Repercussions, Reactions, and Retaliations Book IV

“Do you really imagine that this mad scheme of yours will bear fruit?” The dark, rasping voice rumbled through the room like a winter wind rustling through dead leaves.

“What are you doing here?” a woman’s voice rang out, surprise and annoyance coloring her tone.

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you ... watching you plan and plot against the slayer and her circle,” the malevolent voice responded.

“Why?” the woman demanded. “You’ve already made it very clear that you won’t help me.”

“Why? For the sake of my amusement, nothing more,” came the derisive reply. “The sheer complexity of your plan nearly guarantees its failure.”

“It’s not as if I have anything better to do with my time,” she grumbled bitterly.

“I wonder if you truly grasp the danger you court?” the voice wondered aloud in a mockery of paternal concern.

“Either way, I’m sure you’ll derive amusement from the result,” she said. A note of calculation entered her tone, “And, just think if I were to succeed–”

“Hmm.” The voice hummed for several moments, as though weighing its options.

Though she managed to wait silently, the anticipation rolled off of her in palpable waves.

“If you did ... I might be willing to give you back what you so desperately desire,” the voice allowed. “However, should you fail — as I believe you will — I will take great pleasure in finding other ways to use you for my amusement.”

A sinister laugh was all that remained of the voice as she gasped and shuddered in dread.

Quentin Travers looked up from his newspaper with a disapproving frown. “Jeremy, if you cannot calm yourself, I shall have you checked in with the rest of the luggage,” he said to his nervously pacing assistant.

The younger watcher immediately dropped into a seat, his hands clutching together. “Sorry, Mr. Travers,” he apologized. “I’m afraid I’m a bit anxious about our trip,” he added unnecessarily.

“Anxious?” Travers questioned in what — for him — passed as an innocent tone.

“Yes, well ... after our last visit, and the, um, extraction attempt—” Jeremy stammered.

“The slayer and her little group are aware of our impending visit. This is merely an opportunity to assess the current state of the junior slayer’s emotional and mental stability, with no action to be taken regardless of our findings. We aren’t there to incite any trouble or discord. What possible reason could you have to be anxious?” Travers said in a schoolmaster’s condescending tone, deliberately baiting his assistant.

“I, uh ... well ... that is,” Jeremy babbled incoherently, a bright flush coloring his features. “Yes, of course you’re right,” he managed to spit out at last.

“Then stop flailing about like an addle-minded child,” Travers snapped, needing the gruff reaction to cover his near-smile. ‘I am enjoying this too much, perhaps,’ he mused, lifting his newspaper to block out the sight.

“Okay, tell to me again why we don’t just eat her?” one vampire asked impatiently.

The leader of the group backhanded the questioner with a meaty-sounding thwack. “You idiot!” his annoyed voice filled the air of the small, low cavern — only about seven meters across.

“Vampires, always thinking with their teeth!” came the annoyed mutter from the only female — as well as the only human — in the room.

“Tell me again about this ... libertarian amulet ... thing,” the leader of the vampires ordered in what was obviously an attempt at a commanding voice.

“Libitinan, not libertarian!” she exclaimed in annoyance. “Libitina was the Roman goddess of death; libertarian is a highly rational, though poorly accepted, political ideology.” she explained in a tone of voice that one might hear from someone speaking to a very young — perhaps even retarded — child.

“Right, death-goddess, whatever,” the vamp leader said dismissively. “Get back to the good part.”

“Look, it’s old, it’s powerful and any vampire that wears it will be basically invulnerable,” she blurted exasperatedly.

The vampire that had espoused eating her earlier was sitting on the floor, looking sullen. “If it’s so friggin’ powerful, why’s she giving it away?” he muttered.

The look on the vampire leader’s face made a glacially slow transition from a cocky smile to a confused frown as the concept of a possibly nefarious motive made what was clearly its very first appearance in his mind. “Hey—” he began, no doubt about to ask the same question.

“Finally!” she said with a shake of the head. “Two reasons: One, it’s an amulet that belonged to the goddess of death and corpses. That means it only works on vampires — well, I suppose it would work on zombies too.” She pondered that for a second, then shook her head dismissively and continued. “Anyway, I — not being a corpse of either, or any sort — can’t use it. Two, I also can’t kill the slayer, which is what I expect you’ll do once you are free from the threat of being dusted.”

“Hey, I’m not afraid of the slayer!” the vamp leader exclaimed, clearly offended by the implication.

A chorus of agreement rose up amongst the rest of the vampires, though their darting looks somewhat belied the veracity of their fortitude.

“Of course not,” she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You live in a tiny cave in the middle of the forest by choice.”

Another look of consternation came across the vampire leader’s face and she quickly reiterated, “I give you the amulet, you kill the slayer; deal?”

She closed her eyes and gave serious thought to reconsidering the plan ... for about a second. Then she remembered what was at stake. With a resigned sigh, she pulled the amulet out of her bag and underhanded it across the small cave. Quickly she spun on her heel and walked out of the cave and into the sunlight before any of them might figure out that she no longer had any value to them beyond the intrinsic value of a tasty meal.

“Morons!” she groused to herself on the way out. “Men, vampires, and certainly men that are vampires! They’re all idiots!”

‘Man, this relationship stuff is getting seriously unreal,’ Faith thought with a slight smile on her face. After an afternoon Scooby meeting, she was returning to her lovers’ house. ‘Just walking up to this house is making me feel better about stuff; how weird is that?’

‘All day, all I could think about was freaking Council guy coming to see me, and now all I’m thinking is I’m about to get some food, and some fun!’ she thought with anticipation.

‘Well, almost all,’ she added with a frown as a pang of worry caused her stomach to tighten, though to less of an extent than it had been during the meeting. “Least I don’t feel like puking again,” she muttered as she approached the door.

Warm feelings again washed away the worry as she fished her key ring out of the snug pocket in her leather pants. Holding it up in front of her face, she stared at the two keys: one to her practically abandoned apartment, the other to the door before her. ‘Jeez, I still can’t get over this.’ she thought, awash in a recent memory.

========== BtVS ==========

“Here, Faith. I wanted to make sure I gave you this before you went out tonight.”

Beth’s voice attracted the slayer’s attention from the comic book she’d been reading. “What’s this for?” Faith questioned, seeing a shiny brass key dangling from Beth’s outstretched hand.

“It’s for you, silly,” Beth said with a wide smile.

“We wanted you to have it,” Alex said, his voice almost hesitant. “We know you have your own place, but—”

“We just wanted you to know that you’re welcome here anytime ... all the time,” Beth completed his thought.

“Our house is your house,” Alex had added, the cliché overridden by the deep emotion in his voice.

“Our home is your home, Faithy,” Beth said with equally deep emotion.

========== BtVS ==========

Memories of the sex that had followed caused Faith’s breath to quicken and the only tightness was in her loins as she opened the door. ‘Home,’ she thought, as though trying the word on for size. “Hey, guys,” she called out as she entered, still not completely comfortable with the concept.

Faith smiled. “Damn, that smells good!” she said, food hunger rising to compete with the ever-present sexual hunger.

“You’re just in time. Bethy’s making Polack Pasta,” Alex said teasingly as Faith entered the kitchen.

“Hey!” Beth immediately protested, looking up from the sauce she was stirring to glare at her husband. “Polish pasta!” she corrected.

“Isn’t that what I said?” Alex asked Faith, his expression and tone portraying innocence.

“You should know better than to make fun of the woman who cooks like a fricken chef,” she jokingly chastised. “And can cross her legs behind her head without using her hands!” she added in a stage whisper to Alex.

Alex stepped toward her, sliding one hand around her waist and the other up into her hair at the nape of her neck. He pulled her sharply toward him so that their pelvises thumped together.

Faith’s eyes slipped half-shut when his hot breath washed over her lips as he said, “Mmm, you say the sexiest things, lover!” She moaned her response into his mouth as he punctuated his statement with a deep, soft, searching kiss.

Amongst the erotic visions that filled Faith’s mind whenever he kissed her was the routine amazement, ‘Damn but can he kiss!’ Her breath came heavy and her eyelids slowly fluttered open when he finally released her. “You keep that up and dinner’s gonna get cold,” she exhaled in a lust-thickened voice.

Soft, feminine hands gently turned her face to the side as Beth playfully warned, “Oh, no you don’t! You’re going to need to eat now if you want to keep your strength up later.” Again, any possible response from Faith was cut off by an ardent kiss.

Her hands made their way to Beth’s hair as she kissed back with all of her passion and desire. She was gratified to see a similar reaction to her own when the kiss ended.

Beth took a deep breath and licked her lips before rasping, “Now, be a good girl and help Alex set the table. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Bossy little thing, isn’t she?” Alex teased lightly as he opened up a drawer and began pulling out the flatware.

“Dunno, I kinda got the impression you liked bossy, stud!” Faith teased right back, rubbing her body up against his as she passed to get to the plates. ‘Oh yeah, like putty in my hands,’ she thought with feminine pride as Alex sighed and the clear evidence of his arousal bulged the front of his slacks.

Faith polished off her third helping of pasta as Alex and Beth finished their second and first, respectively. “Man, that was fricken good!” she complimented with satisfaction. “It tasted really different than what I expected ... I mean for pasta. I dunno, it’s like it ... felt different on my tongue?” she said, trying to describe her experience.

“Vodka?” Faith asked in surprise. “You mean you put booze in the sauce?”

Alex laughed while Beth tried to explain; “There are certain flavors in the tomatoes that don’t come out with water or oil, only with alcohol. That, plus the vodka breaks down the tomato’s flesh, giving it that texture; like silky and grainy all at once.”

“Huh,” Faith grunted. Shaking her head, she said, “Well, whatever it does, it must fricken work, ’cause that tasted amazing!”

“Thank you, Faith,” Beth said with a warm smile. “I’m really glad you enjoyed it.”

Alex’s smile dimmed somewhat when he broke the silence. “Faith, can I ask you something?” he said, reaching over to take her hand.

“Shoot,” Faith said with a shrug, a bit of a chill feeling forming inside her.

“Well, I wondered if there was something bothering you,” he began. “It’s just ... several times during dinner you seemed to get this pensive, worried look on your face....” He trailed off.

“Did something happen at your meeting?” Beth asked when Faith didn’t immediately respond.

‘It’s times like this when it’s still hard,’ she thought introspectively. ‘I still have a fricken hard time opening up about feelings and stuff ... I so want to just blow it off.’ Looking into the eyes of her lovers, Faith saw only concern and caring. ‘Trust, trust, trust; remember?’ she asked herself. ‘You can trust them.’

She took a deep shuddering breath and spoke. “Okay, you remember when I told you about the watchers and stuff?”

Dark looks crossed both Alex and Beth’s faces. “They tried to kidnap you and take you back to England.” Beth said with a seething anger that seemed foreign on her normally sweet face.

“Yeah, that’s them,” Faith said, her heart warmed by her lover’s reaction. “Anyway, it’s just that one of them is coming here and I’m supposed to talk with him.”

Identical looks of incredulity came over both Alex and Beth, jaws dropped open and eyes wide with shock.

“Hey, it ain’t as bad as it sounds. It’s just one guy and his toady assistant. It’s not like they’re sending a hit squad like last time.”

Beth’s hand shot out to grip Faith’s free hand and it looked like she wanted to say something, but no words came out of her gaping mouth.

“Seriously, guys, it ain’t that big a thing. Scoobies got it covered. Watcher-man’d have to be wicked stupid to try and pull anything. ’Specially after what happened to the last guys they sent.”

A slight grin overcame their looks of shock. ‘Yeah, that was pretty fricken funny,’ Faith thought, remembering the looks on their faces when she’d told her lovers about the ‘gift-box’ that Buffy, Willow and Tara had sent back to the council.

“Sorry,” Alex said, chagrinned. “It’s just ... the thought of them ... hurting you.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it,” Faith said, her voice suddenly choked up. “I mean, I appreciate....” She trailed off, embarrassed.

‘Just say it!’ she chastised herself. ‘Step up, Faith. Tell them how you feel!’

Her eyes dropped to the table as she whispered, “It makes me feel better ... knowing you guys, like ... care about me and stuff.”

Alex and Beth stood up in silent harmony and pulled her to her feet, wrapping her in a tight embrace.

Of one accord, Alex and Beth released Faith from their embrace and guided her toward the bedroom. “Let us show you just how much!” Beth whispered hotly in her ear as they went.

“Faith, oh God, you feel so good, Faith!” Alex’s voice rasped in her ear, causing chills to run through her flesh. She was sitting on his lap, his erection buried deep inside her as she arched her back against his chest. Her head was thrown back as she gasped air into her burning lungs.

“So good!” Faith grunted out. Beth was kneeling before her, mouth on one breast, hands playing with the other breast and her clit; each erogenous zone sending shooting spikes of pleasure straight to her brain.

“Harder, Bethy! Bite it!” she cried out, her hands moving up Beth’s back and into her hair, pushing her lover’s head into her breast. “Oh, God! Just like that!”

Beth pinched one nipple hard, while biting down on the other. The combined jolts of pain were enough to send Faith over the edge, squealing, “Yes!” out loud.

‘Love this, love it!’ she exulted in her mind as Beth quickened her already furious rubbing on Faith’s swollen button.

Alex grabbed Faith by the hips and began to shove her down to meet his upward thrusts. Each meeting of their bodies made a loud smack and sent Faith bouncing upward only to be shoved right back down again.

“Oh, hell yes!” Faith growled, her sex still contracting around Alex’s pounding cock. “Drive it home, stud! Pound that big fat dick up in me!”

“Jesus, Faith!” he growled right back, increasing the speed of his thrusts. “God, I love being inside you! So much!”

Faith spasmed even harder when he sucked her earlobe into his mouth and bit down. “Alex!” she squeaked, clamping down involuntarily on him.

“Gahh!” he cried, releasing her earlobe and slamming her down onto himself one last time, holding her there while he unloaded inside of her.

Beth sat back with a wide smile. “Mmm, Faithy,” she hummed in obvious delight. “I think Alex made me desert!”

“Huh?” Faith asked, her mind still hazy with post-coital endorphin overload.

“Ohh,” Faith breathed out. Suddenly she was pulled up and off of Alex’s fading erection, onto her knees. Beth turned her around and within moments Faith found herself facing Alex, who was still reclining against the headboard. She looked down to see Beth’s closed eyes and the top of her head down below her.

Faith felt her knees being pushed apart until her sloppy-wet pussy was right on top of Beth’s mouth. “Mmm, Bethy!” she hummed as her lover’s soft tongue began to lave her sex, loud slurping sounds coming from Beth as she delved after her desired cream.

She looked up at her other lover and smiled at the look of satisfaction on his face. “Hey, stud,” she whispered when his eyes met hers.

“I think you gave Bethy a pretty big desert there!” she said, humming in pleasure as she was licked and sucked.

“Gimme a couple minutes and I’ll give her a dose of her own,” he replied lasciviously.

“Oh yeah?” Faith said, her eyes traveling down his tight, fit body to the glistening flesh between his legs. “Maybe I can help!” She immediately bent forward and slurped his semi-erect cock into her mouth.

‘Yum, I taste good on him!’ she thought salaciously as she worked to return him to a fully erect state. ‘Only fair I help him out so he can fix me a little Bethy-cream-pie of my own!’

Humming in delight at Beth’s attentions helped quickly bring Alex back to full tumescence. She released him with a loud pop and said, “Now, why don’t you go make me a little desert?”

Alex pulled her up for a deep, wet kiss before responding. “You got it, lover!” he said low and sexy, moving off the bed.

“Don’t worry, Bethy. You ain’t finished yet,” Faith replied as she turned around and settled herself back down on Beth’s face, this time facing down to the foot of the bed.

She was just in time to see Alex take his wife’s legs and pull them flat against his chest — her feet on either side of his face — before sinking himself into her with a deep grunt.

‘This relationship stuff beats the fricken hell out of “get some, get gone”!’ Faith thought with lusty satisfaction as Beth pushed her toward another orgasm.

Within a few minutes, Faith was cumming hard again, and so was Beth if her loud squeals against Faith’s sex were any indication. It took Alex another minute before he too came with a shuddering grunt.

Faith had recovered sufficiently, so she licked her own lips and said, “Mmm, desert!”

“Why do vampires even come to Sunnydale anymore?” Willow asked rhetorically.

Tara laughed. ‘Another patrol, another handful of vampires for Buffy to destroy. Goddess, who would’ve thought I’d ever look at vampires as a minor nuisance?’

“You know, that reminds me of one time Xander asked me why vamps always hang out in cemeteries,” Buffy said as the three of them began walking again.

“I told him to ask the next vampire we saw,” Buffy said, smiling at the memory.

Tara laughed along with Buffy. “You’re adorable when you pout,” she told her redheaded lover.

“You can ask the next vamp we come across, Wil,” Buffy teased. “Maybe they’ll tell you why they come to the Hellmouth too.”

“What’s got you so happy?” Buffy asked with a wide smile of her own as she moved to drape herself against Tara’s side.

She wrapped one arm around Buffy and held her other out to Willow, inviting her to join the embrace. “I don’t know. Lately I just feel so warm and ... joyful. All the time.”

“Wow!” Willow said, her face echoing the surprise Tara was feeling at the simultaneous declaration.

“Do you both feel it too?” Tara asked, instinctively knowing the answer was yes.

Something caught Buffy’s attention and her head whipped upward, looking over Willow’s shoulder. Tara turned and caught a brief glimpse of a fleeing form weaving around headstones. Almost as soon as she saw it, it disappeared around one of the larger mausoleums.

“Uh oh, gotta go,” Buffy said, pulling away from the embrace. “We’ll definitely finish this later!” she added with a libidinous smile before taking off after the fleeing form.

“I’m not sure. Do you think she just ran into a trap?” Tara asked, feeling a little tendril of concern.

“Probably,” Willow said with a nod. “You wanna go watch her turn the tables?”

Tara was about to nod yes, when something tickled at the back of her awareness. ‘Willow must have felt it too,’ she thought when she spun around to find that Willow had beaten her to it; a shimmering shield springing into existence around both of them.

“What the—” one of the two vampires that had been sneaking up behind them blurted out. He came to a stop with a confused and startled look on his face.

‘Must be the smart one,’ Tara thought as the other continued, leaping at the two witches.

Vamp number two’s only comment was, “Oof!” as he hit the shield like a sparrow flying into a window.

Tara quickly immobilized the other, sweeping him up into the air to dangle by his feet.

“Spike spell,” Willow said with a grin, picking up the crumpled vamp to hang next to his partner.

“What’s this?” Tara wondered when she saw an object fall from the dumb vamp’s hand when Willow lifted him.

“Sweetie, can you drop the spell a second?” she asked, gesturing to the fallen object.

‘A one-way shield?’ Tara thought in amazement as she picked up the object. ‘I’d never even imagined such a thing.’

“Stun gun?” Willow said, surprised. “What’s a vampire doing with a stun gun?”

“Let’s ask,” Tara suggested, pulling her vampire closer with a wave of her hand.

“I ain’t tellin’ you dick, bitch!” the crumpled vamp spat out. He followed suit by actually spitting at the redhead.

The bloody saliva hit the shield, but Willow still recoiled with a disgusted look on her face.

“Kiss my aaiieeee!!” the vampire responded, his bravado turning into a high-pitched shriek as Willow grabbed the stun gun from Tara and applied it to his crotch.

Tara turned away from the screamer and toward the other. She had to hide a smirk at the look of stark terror on his face. “Now then, I believe there is a question waiting for an answer.”

“No! No! Hell no! Don’t, I’ll tell you anything, I swear!” the other vampire cried, visibly shaking in fear.

Willow pulled the stun gun away from her victim, who was reduced to a soft, keening wail. “So, answer the question. Why the stun guns?”

“The boss, he wanted us to take you alive, so—” The vamp stopped abruptly, snapping his mouth shut.

The vamp whimpered, his eyes darting back and forth between Willow’s face and the black device in her hand.

“Tell me!” Willow ordered, pushing the button and sending a blue arc across the device’s contacts.

Another blue spark was needed to loosen his tongue further. “He was gonna make her watch while we ... ahh, played with you two.”

“And what makes him think he can do what every other vampire, demon, or hellgod that’s come to this town couldn’t do?” Willow asked coldly.

“Uh, see ... the Boss just got hisself this mojo amulet, and now he’s like, you can’t hurt him.”

‘Buffy!’ Tara immediately reached out to see if her pet was in trouble and found that she was deeply enjoying herself. “She’s fine,” she said to Willow just as the question was about to leave the redhead’s lips. “She’s having fun, playing.”

“She would be,” Willow said with a soft smile. The smile fell away, replaced with a hard, angry look as she turned to the two hanging vampires. “Now then, what to do with a couple of wannabe rapist demons?”

‘God, I love this!’ Buffy thought as she ducked under one punch while simultaneously spinning and driving her foot through the ribs of another vampire. ‘I can’t believe how slow these guys are!’

She had time to step down from the spin-kick and grab the extended arm of the puncher, lifting him bodily and throwing him into two other approaching vampires.

She’d followed the running vampire into a trap: over a dozen vampires in a semicircle. One vampire — clearly in charge — was lounging on the steps of a mausoleum with a snide look on his face.

“Okay, boys, remember, I want her alive,” the vamp leader said loudly. “Barely,” he added with a sardonic grin.

At that point the dozen vamps leapt forward; the looks of eager anticipation on their faces indicating they thought they were in for some fun.

‘I wonder if they were surprised when I laughed?’ Buffy thought as she broke one vamp’s arm with her left hand, smashed another’s jaw with her right, and shattered third’s knee with her right foot.

One vamp nearly landed a blow to the back of her head, but she felt the pressure and rolled forward. As she completed the somersault, she drew a pair of stakes and dusted two vamps.

‘Huh, weird,’ she thought when a quick glance at the vampire leader showed he was still lounging on the mausoleum steps, still looking confident.

After laying together for about half an hour, soaking in their after-sex glow, Faith began to stir. “Hey, guys?”

“Nooo, too soon, Faithy!” Beth groaned. “Need another thirty minutes, at least!”

Faith laughed, joyfully. ‘Damn I’m good!’ she thought with both pride and happiness. “Actually, I was gonna say I need to go patrol for a while,” she changed the subject. She was slightly hesitant as she added, “Um, can I come back and stay over after?”

“Faith, have we ever not wanted you to stay over?” Alex asked as though it was a silly question.

“No, I just,” Faith began, feeling silly. “You know; didn’t want to assume or nothing.”

Alex shook his head, smiling warmly as he answered. “Let me make it crystal clear, Faith. Not only are you welcome in this house twenty-four seven, you are more than welcome in this bed every night. We want you here. This is ... this is where you belong,” he finished in a soft, emotional voice.

“What he said, double for me!” Beth interjected her fervor clearly displayed both in her voice, and on her face.

“I—” Faith felt a lump in her throat. “I-I’ll be back in a little bit then.”

Beth pulled her down for a lingering kiss. “Hurry back!” she whispered after letting go Faith’s lips.

“Um, well,” Tara said, clearing her throat a bit. “You don’t think that was a bit ... um, extreme?” she asked with a little bit of trepidation.

“Well, I thought of what they wanted to do to me, and I got pretty angry ... but then I thought of them touching you, and I just—”

They turned around a large memorial statue to some formerly rich and presently dead Sunnydaler and came upon the remains of the battle.

“Hey, what took you?” Buffy asked, spinning in a pirouette, before lashing out to her sides and staking two of the three remaining vamps.

Before they could even answer, the last vampire stood up from the steps behind Buffy and began ranting. “It doesn’t matter! After I deal with you, I’ll turn a hundred more!” He pulled a dull metallic object from his shirt and held it up before him as he continued, “With this I am invincible! I’ll tear your guts out through your throat and string them up in the trees! I’ll break your—”

All three just stood there for several moments, looking — staring at the amulet lying in a pile of dust.

“Why not?” Alex asked, the trepidation in his tone telling her he already suspected the answer.

“Mad? Of course he’s mad, that whole blasted council is so intellectually inbred, I’m amazed they can even walk and speak simultaneously,” she growled, frustrated. “Do They have anything to say about this?”

“Unfortunately They don’t control the council,” he answered with a shake of the head.

“The council is *supposed* to be serving the same purpose,” she argued, exasperated.

He stood up and began pacing. “Sometimes I wonder ... I think the council has the same goal, but their stubborn adherence to antiquated traditions and methods makes them ineffectual.”

“But?” she asked, her voice indicating that she knew he had more to say on the subject.

Alex’s voice was contemplative as he responded, “I wonder if he might have a different agenda.”

“Damn, no action tonight,” Faith muttered, twirling her stake as she wandered through her third cemetery of the night. “Jeez, B, you couldn’t leave a couple for me to play with?” she complained.

As she came around a copse of trees, she was startled by an unexpected sight. “Holy crap!” she exhaled, shocked. She moved closer until she could clearly see what turned out to be two vampires; naked on the ground, spread-eagle, staked through their hands and feet. They also had something stuffed into their mouths to keep them from yelling.

“Jeez, who’d you two piss off?” she wondered aloud. “And why are you jerking around like that?”

She tried to move closer but when she got within three meters, her progress was suddenly halted as though she’d bumped into a plate-glass window. “What the—” She felt the space in front of her, looking like a mime doing the ‘trapped in a box’ routine. “Willow ... or Tara. Gotta be one of them.”

She moved around the bodies outside the perimeter of the shield until she saw what was causing their squirming. Laughter broke forth from her when she saw it: their crotches were covered in fire ants.

“Oh my God!” she gasped through her laughter. ‘I definitely gotta remember never to piss off a witch!’

Then another thought popped into her head, ‘I can’t wait to report to Giles what I found on my patrol!’

The triad had taken the amulet to Giles just in time to catch Xander and Dawn still there and an impromptu Scooby session was started.

“Nope!” Buffy chirped. “Dusted like any other.” She laughed as she added, “Right in the middle of telling me how un-killable he was.”

“Yes, I see,” Giles allowed with a tentative smile. “And yet, the amulet didn’t disintegrate along with the vampire.”

“Plus, it’s definitely magical,” Tara offered, turning back from Giles towards Willow.

“This is maddening!” Willow growled, dropping the amulet back onto the table. “I can feel the spell — it’s like I can see it — but I can’t see what’s hidden inside it!”

Tara looked at Willow with sympathy. “We’ll find a way, sweetie,” she said reassuringly.

Tara reached over the table and grasped her lover’s hands, squeezing gently. “We’ll figure it out,” she said, locking her gaze with Willow’s.

“I don’t get it,” Buffy interjected. “What’s wrong, is it — it can’t be too tough, can it? Giles said you’re like the most powerful witch he’s ever heard of.”

“What?” the slayer asked, sounding slightly affronted. “What’d I say?”

“That’s the problem,” Tara explained. “It’s not too strong; it’s too weak.”

“I can’t even get close to it and it’s like it’s going to shatter!” Willow grated out.

“It’s very fragile,” Tara said, feeling Willow’s frustration, though less intensely. “Someone or something put a spell on this to hide its true nature. However, we can’t unravel the spell without destroying the amulet.”

Tara struggled to keep the smile off of her face as Willow looked up to see surprised looks on most of the Scooby gang’s faces.

“Yes, well ...” Giles muttered. Suddenly, a thoughtful look came over his face. “May I see it?” he asked, gesturing toward the amulet on the table between the two senior witches.

“Sure, why not?” Willow said resignedly. She pulled her hands away from Tara and picked up the amulet.

Buffy gasped as the redhead casually tossed the item to her watcher. “Wil!” she gulped.

Tara smirked, knowing what Buffy must be thinking. “It’s alright, Buffy. The spell is fragile, not the amulet itself.”

“Aww,” Tara crooned, again taking Willow’s hand in her own. Looking toward Buffy she softly said, “Looks like we’re going to have to find a way to cheer up our pouty girl.” She smirked again as Willow visibly perked up. ‘Oh you so aren’t fooling anyone,’ she thought as the redhead’s momentary smile was again hidden behind an exaggerated pout, clearly fake.

“Okay, you so have no right to ever tease Xan and me for being sappy again!” Dawn’s amused voice startled Tara into laughter.

“There is something about this ...” Giles pondered, still focused on the amulet. “Something familiar....”

“Hmm?” he said, snapping his attention away from the amulet to his charge. “Oh, yes. I-I’m not certain ... I need to make some telephone calls.”

“Thus endeth the Scooby meeting?” Xander immediately interjected. “’Cause it’s seriously getting to be dinnertime.”

“Um ... yes,” Giles stammered, looking to his watch. “Yes, it’s a bit late to make the calls tonight, in any case.”

Tara cocked her head to the side with a bemused grin. “Looking forward to dinner?” she asked, curious. ‘Xander the endless stomach must be rubbing-off on her,’ she thought with silent laughter.

“Mmm, not dinner,” Dawn said with a slight headshake. “Desert.” she corrected with a hungry-sounding tone.

“Really?” Willow added, having dropped the pouty-act as her curiosity apparently got the better of her as well. “Why, what’s for desert?”

Tara and Willow both laughed aloud as Dawn pulled Xander to his feet, boldly teasing, “Come on, Xan. I so need to get you fed!”

A glance at Giles showed Tara that he was studiously pretending to ignore the innuendo floating through the atmosphere. She stood up and reached her hands to her two lovers as she said, “Come on, I’m suddenly feeling a little hungry myself.”

‘It looks like we’ll be starting with desert!’ Dawn thought as they entered their apartment. The looks Xander had been giving her the whole trip home bespoke a hunger for something other than food.

‘Like I mind!’ she thought happily as Xander slammed the door behind him and immediately pushed her back against the kitchen area counter. She met his hard kiss with equal passion: hands in hair, tongues wrestling, bodies pressed together.

She moaned into his mouth as he grabbed her ass and lifted her up onto the counter, making for a much more comfortable angle to kiss. “Oh, sugar,” she sighed, her head lolling back when he released her lips and began kissing his way down her throat.

‘Oh yeah, I love it when you do that!’ she thought as he sucked on her pulse-point, his hands moving down her sides until he went past the hem of her skirt. He made it as far as her knees — snug around him on either side of his hips — before reversing course and sliding up the outsides of her thighs, under her skirt.

“Oh, Xander!” she panted as he pulled down her panties. She let go of his hair and put her hands on the counter to lift herself up, clearing the way for him to remove them completely.

He released her neck and leaned back, stepping away so he could slide the purple satin material down her long legs.

‘Oh, God!’ she thought as he stared into her eyes. ‘They’re almost black!’ she thought with amazement. She smiled with both humor and lust as he brought her panties to his face, inhaling deeply. “Perv!” she whispered indulgently.

Her smile fell, replaced by lust and desire. She licked her lips in anticipation of what was to come.

“Take off your clothes!” he instructed her, sending a jolt of energy straight to her core.

She quickly pulled her sweater up over her head and tossed it aside. The bra quickly followed and she shivered with anticipation as he walked around the counter and headed for the refrigerator. Her flanks became covered in goose bumps as she shucked her skirt and kicked off her shoes, sitting on the counter in nothing but bare skin.

“Lay back, kitten,” he instructed softly, opening a jar of their latest sex-toy: Mont Blanc dark chocolate syrup with a touch of cream stirred in to keep it at the proper viscosity when it was refrigerator cold.

“You and me both!” he said huskily. He set down the open jar and stuck a metal spoon inside, leaving it there while he quickly shucked his own shirt and T-shirt.

‘I remember the first time we did this ... the chocolate stains never did come out of that shirt!’ she thought humorously. ‘Still, it was so worth a new shirt!’

He took the spoon out of the chocolate licked the inside clean. Then he painted her lips with the backside, immediately covering her mouth with his own and smearing the syrup over both of them, his coated tongue entering her mouth to caress hers.

“Chocolate Dawn-kisses!” Xander huffed, licking his lips with obvious relish. “Definitely my new favorite candy!”

‘Oh yeah! Screw Hershey’s; this is what a chocolate kiss should taste like!’ she thought with a loud groan.

He took another spoonful and dripped it over her left areola, causing it to contract into a hard knot of flesh. She gasped at the cold sensation, her whole breast quivering and covered in goose bumps. He then painted the tip of her erect nipple with the back of the spoon, causing it to stand up proudly from the surrounding flesh. He ignored the way the syrup slowly dripped down from the peak while he anointed her right breast in the same manner.

He waited until she mewled in frustration before slowly licking her breasts clean, finishing each by sucking hard on the erect flesh capping them.

Her whole body was tingling as he drizzled a line of dark, chocolatey goodness from the hollow of her throat all the way down to her navel, creating a pool of dark-brown, velvety liquid. Her moaning became almost constant as he slowly devoured the trail, taking his time with her belly button, making sure to get every last molecule of chocolate out with his tongue.

“Do it, sugar!” Dawn cried, her sex aching for the cold syrup, quickly followed by his warm tongue.

“Is this what you want?” he teased, holding a spoonful over her nether-lips, a cocky smile on his face.

“Yes!” she cried, desperation overtaking pride. ‘I’d happily beg for it right now!’ she thought, flushing slightly at the power of her need. “Please?” she added, having to fight to restrain her hips from jerking.

‘Yes! God, yes!’ Dawn exulted, gasping at the sensation of the cold chocolate pouring over her hot, wet pussy. “Xander!” she shrieked, an unexpected orgasm ripping through her as he rubbed the cold metal hard against her swollen clit.

“So freaking beautiful!” he grunted. He licked the spoon clean and then dove right in between her spread thighs, licking her chocolatey pussy clean of the combined syrup and girl-cum. He moaned loudly with pleasure as he licked and sucked, delving deeply inside her with his long, strong tongue.

He didn’t let up for long minutes. Not until her body was again twitching, right on the cusp of another orgasm. ‘I am the luckiest girl in the world!’ she thought blissfully, right before screaming out his name again as he slid two fingers inside her to replace his tongue, which quickly went to work sucking the remaining chocolate off her clit.

By the time he was finished with her, she was sprawled out; boneless, eyes unfocused, and panting like she’d just run a marathon.

“We so owe Willow for finding this stuff!” Xander crooned after one last lick.

“Oh yeah!” Dawn agreed breathily. “Of course, I already know how to pay her back,” she added, thinking Willow’d appreciate a recounting of their use of the syrup.

‘Hmm, methinks a little teasing is in order,’ she thought, fighting to keep a straight face.

“Well, she is a very sexy woman,” Dawn said thoughtfully. “Maybe we could ... I dunno, tape it for you? Or maybe she’d even agree to let you watch?”

“Gotcha!” Dawn laughed out loud. ‘Dang, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to keep a straight face!’ she thought, congratulating herself. “Keep dreaming, Perv!” she added with no real rancor. ‘Willow is pretty hot ... no, not going there. Time to thank my sexy boyfriend for the mind-blowing oral sex!’

“Cruel, evil woman!” Xander muttered, the small smile on his face belying his complaint.

“Aww, lemme make it up to you!” she answered honey-sweet. She sat up and jumped down off the counter. She smiled widely when his breath quickened as she undid his belt and jeans. She couldn’t help but lick her lips in anticipation as she pushed his pants and boxer-briefs down to his ankles.

‘You’re gonna need to spread those legs a bit,’ she thought, quickly undoing his shoe laces so he could step out of his shoes and pants. ‘I love that,’ she thought when his erection twitched and his breath caught. ‘That’s right, sugar bear, your kitten’s gonna make you scream!’ she exulted.

She pushed him back so he was leaning against the counter, then she spread his legs so she could kneel between his feet, his swollen cock right in front of her face.

She reached up and grabbed the Mont Blanc off of the counter and poured a good measure over his hard length, grinning at the hiss he made as the cold syrup hit his hot skin. “Mmm, I think it likes chocolate!” she teased, watching with pleasure as the wide head swelled even further, turning purple with blood. She smoothed the chocolate over his dick, using it almost as a lubricant, slowly jacking him off. A large drop of pre-cum oozed out of the tip and she licked it off. “Mmm,” she hummed loudly. “Chocolate syrup and Xander-sauce!” She smacked her lips with pleasure.

She moved her chocolate-covered hand down over his scrotum, smearing the velvety skin with the sweet syrup. ‘I thought he’d freak when I wanted to use the witchy hair-remover down here,’ she remembered as she happily took in the sight of his hairless privates. ‘I guess asking him in the middle of a blow-job helped.’

Once his sack was as chocolatey as his cock, Dawn lifted his dick up against his belly and began to lick and suck on his balls.

‘I so enjoy doing this!’ she thought as he made happy-sounds. She sucked one silky-smooth nut into her mouth and gently sucked, laving the round egg with her tongue. While she repeated the action on the other, she rolled her chocolatey index finger in the copious lubricant weeping from his cock.

‘Hmm, that’s probably enough,’ she thought, releasing his scrotum and pulling his cock back down. She licked from the base to about halfway up, and then repeated the gesture all around the circumference, trying to get the chocolate that she wouldn’t be able to reach once she started sucking. ‘One of these days I am going to get this whole thing down my throat!’ she thought, determined. ‘At least now I don’t gag when it hits the back of my throat!’ she consoled herself. ‘Not that he ever complains, but I know from bitch-Anya’s bragging that it’s one of his favorite things in the world, and I’m gonna make sure I’m doing everything he could ever want or need!’

Resisting the temptation to suck off her Xander-coated finger, she quickly gobbled down the head of his dick, sucking strongly as she established a steady, moderately paced rhythm.

“Dawn, Dawn, Dawn! So good, honey! So, so good, kitten!” He began chanting after a few minutes of steady sucking and fondling.

She remembered her embarrassed conversation a couple of days previously when she’d asked if it would be okay for her to try something new with him sometime. She’d showed him a website she’d found and highlighted the paragraph describing what she wanted to try. ‘The way his eyes bugged out when he read it!’ she thought, smiling around his cock at the mental image. ‘He tried to play it cool, but the catch in his voice when he said he wouldn’t mind told the real story!’

When Xander’s chant began to falter, she knew it was time. She slid her finger along the crack of his ass until she felt his puckered sphincter. ‘Okay, Xan, here goes!’ she thought, pushing gently until it opened up, she slid her finger into him, rubbing upward as far in as she could reach.

‘Holy wow!’ Dawn thought as Xander’s dick swelled bigger than she’d ever felt before and he shot a huge load of cum into her mouth. So much that, even as she swallowed furiously, it poured out of her mouth and dripped down off of her chin onto her breasts.

Somehow she remembered to keep rubbing and Xander actually screeched, his whole body shaking violently. ‘Oh my God, he’s still cumming!’ she thought, amazed as she failed miserably to keep up with the jetting spurts.

After long seconds of extended orgasm, Xander’s knees buckled. His cock pulled from her mouth and blasted the last few jets onto her face, fortunately missing her eye as he hit her forehead, nose, and cheek.

“Wow!” she blurted, pulling her hand from between his legs as he slowly collapsed to the ground. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned as he sat there blinking furiously.

Finally he seemed to regain focus, shaking his head briefly and then meeting her gaze. “Yeah, I....” He trailed off, then began to laugh.

She looked down at her cum-drizzled breasts and then felt her face — with her non-chocolate hand. “Oh, God! I’m a mess!” she said with a laugh of her own.

She bounced up off of her knees, pushing to her feet while making sure not to touch anything with either of her differently sticky hands. “Come on, you can help me clean up in the shower.”

“As soon as my legs start working again!” he joked, slowly pushing himself to his feet, using the counter to brace himself. “Seriously though, thank you, Dawn. That was ... amazing!”

“It was ... it was unbelievable!” she agreed with a warm smile to match the warm feeling inside her at his heartfelt compliment.

“Next time, maybe we should do it lying down?” he said as he stumbled toward her.

“Laying down; right.” she agreed, leading the way to the shower. “With a big stack of towels handy!” Glancing at her ‘chocolate hand’ she wrinkled her nose and mentally added, ‘And maybe some wet-naps.’

An evil smirk came over Dawn’s face as she added, “Oh, I don’t know, I think you hosed me plenty!”

Buffy and Tara sat on the end of their bed, waiting for the third in their triad to begin the show that they’d requested when they got home from the Scooby meeting.

Willow stood before her two lovers, clad in an outfit that looked like a catholic schoolgirl who’d gone straight from class to a Goth party. Her makeup was pale except for the deep, dark almond shape around her eyes and her black lipstick. Her hair was pulled back into twin-pigtails that stuck out on either side of her neck at the nape.

Music suddenly filled the room and Willow began dancing. The music had a hard, crunching guitar riff, repeating over and over with a deep base drum pounding slowly in the background. Willow’s hip began to roll in time to the rhythm and her hands moved over her thighs, slowly sliding upwards.

Willow’s shoulders began to roll in counterpoint to her hips and she lowered her head to peer through her eyelashes at her lovers, laid out on the bed, watching her intently.

“Dear God in Heaven!” Buffy softly cried, feeling a thrill of lust pound inside her, matching the beat.

“Goddess, I’ve never heard anything like this before!” Tara exclaimed, panting hard already.

“It feels ... dark,” Buffy said, licking her dry lips. “And, like, sticky.”

Willow’s hands made the torturously slow journey up her torso, squeezing and pressing her breasts together through the fabric of her sweater and shirt.

“Ohhh, yeah!” Buffy groaned in agreement, her nether-lips already slick with desire.

Willow began to pull the buttons apart on her sweater, starting from the top, popping each one on the backbeat of the music.

Buffy lost no time whipping her own shirt up and off so she could play with her breasts as she watched. ‘Mmm, I’m not the only one!’ she thought as a quick glance showed Tara had her shirt open and was already pinching and twisting her nipples.

Buffy hummed in delight and rubbed the soft cashmere over her naked torso. ‘God, that feels good!’ she thought.

Willow spun around and crouched down to the floor, then straightened her legs back up until she was bent at the waist, her arms on the backs of her knees. She slid them upward in one quick motion, flipping her skirt up to flash a brief shot of black lace panties that left most of her cheeks exposed.

Buffy continued caressing herself with the sweater, but moved one hand down over her leather-covered crotch and began to rub herself through the soft hide.

Willow performed on her shirt the same rhythmic button popping that she had used on her sweater. The strip of skin revealed by this maneuver showed that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Pulling her shirt open just enough to see the inner slopes of her breasts, Willow stalked over to Buffy and pulled her head into the open shirt, rubbing her breasts over the slayer’s face.

‘Oh, smells so good!’ Buffy thought, intoxicated by the combination of perfume and Willow-scent. She rubbed harder through her pants, her hips twitching as her orgasm approached on the horizon.

Releasing Buffy, Willow pulled her shirt out of her skirt and quickly flipped it off and threw it away. She immediately went over to her other lover.

Buffy’s eyes followed and she saw that her own mistress had pulled her pants open and had one hand moving furiously inside them.

Willow pulled that hand out and began suckling the wetness from Tara’s fingers. She turned and sat down on the blonde witch’s lap, grinding herself against her, never releasing the fingers in her mouth as she did it.

Willow released Tara and stood up away from her, dancing back out into the room. She danced for a time, stroking herself and pinching and pulling on her nipples until the song ended.

Immediately the song restarted and Willow slowly slid her hands up the outsides of her thighs, under and lifting her skirt until it just showed a glimpse of black lace in the middle. She then hooked her fingers into her panties and pulled them down her legs, over her knee-high socks and Mary Jane’s, until she could step out of them.

Buffy felt her dry mouth suddenly flood with saliva as Willow approached her, twirling the black scrap of fabric on one finger. Her eyes slipped half shut as Willow balled up the material so the crotch was the outermost part, and then pushed the damp, fragrant fabric up against Buffy’s nose and mouth.

Buffy inhaled deeply through her nose, capturing the rich, musky scent. “Oohhhmmmm!” she moaned as she exhaled. She then licked at the wetness, trying to get a taste.

‘Oh, you little minx!’ Buffy thought, frustrated when Willow pulled the garment away and went to offer it to Tara in the same manner. Buffy quickly shucked her pants to give herself better access to her dripping sex.

After teasing Tara, Willow tossed the panties aside and began to dance some more, her small breasts jiggling as she writhed and bounced. She did kicks and bends, offering tantalizing glimpses of her smooth pussy until Buffy was whining in anticipation.

‘It’s not like I haven’t seen it before!’ Buffy thought, wondering at her own almost desperate eagerness.

The music was pounding and Willow was writhing when she suddenly dropped to the floor, sitting with her butt and feet on the floor, her knees bent up in front of her, but closed together, blocking any sight of what Buffy really wanted to see.

With her left hand behind her, bracing herself, Willow began to slide her right up her stocking-covered shins until she got to the knees. She slowly pushed her hand between her knees. Keeping it flat — perpendicular to her legs — she moved it up her thighs, spreading her legs a bit but blocking the sight of her center.

“Mmm, show me baby ... show me that perfect, pretty pussy!” A low growl from Tara startled Buffy slightly. ‘God, Tara!’ she thought; though in truth she felt the same way.

Willow began opening and closing her legs, again matching the beat of the music, spreading wider and wider each time. Her hand still covered her sex, cupping and rubbing as Willow sighed and hummed in apparent pleasure.

“Do it, baby!” Buffy chuffed out, her own hand busy with two fingers buried to the third knuckle inside her dripping pussy.

Willow responded by spreading her feet wide and dipping her middle and ring fingers into her sex. Instead of pumping her hand, Willow kept it still, thrusting upward with her hips, her butt leaving the floor as she rode her fingers to the beat of the song.

By the time the third repeat of the song had completed, all three of them were moaning and jerking, release clearly nearing.

Buffy was close behind, grunting Willow’s name over and over as she rode out her orgasm.

By the time she blinked her eyes back into focus, Buffy saw that Willow had given up any pretense of rhythm and was pounding her fingers furiously into her sex.

Willow immediately stopped, but a high-pitched whine of frustration escaped from her.

A glance at Tara while Willow hastened to comply showed confusion on the blonde witch’s face.

“I want to set off Little Miss Orgasma-bomb,” Buffy explained with a wicked smile.

“You set up the shield thingie while I get the chains!” Buffy said excitedly.

‘Oh, she’s ready, I think!’ Buffy thought as she looked at her squirming pet.

The naked redhead was on her back, stretched out with her hands cuffed together to the center of the headboard, and her legs were spread and chained to the corners of the footboard.

Buffy and Tara lay on either side; mouth on breast, hand toying with her sloppy wet pussy.

Buffy left off her nibbling on one turgid pink nipple and moved up until she was face to face with Willow. “Hmmm, you want to cum, Pet?” she whispered in Willow’s ear.

“You know what I want, right?” Buffy asked, feeling anticipation. She moved her leg over Willow’s, rubbing her own wet sex against the redhead’s lower thigh. ‘This time I’m gonna be in full body-contact!’ she thought excitedly.

Tara took the cue and mirrored Buffy’s position, looking over their lover at the slayer with wide eyes.

As had happened last time, there was a momentary lag, and then all the light in the room disappeared. This time Buffy carefully focused on what she was feeling. ‘Ohh!’ she thought, amazed and a little frightened as she felt her own energy drain away, leaving her weak as a kitten.

By the time she realized what she was feeling, she was suddenly flooded with Willow’s energy. Every cell in her body felt like a nova had gone off and she screamed through the most intense orgasm of her life.

Dawn’s lips widened into a smile, her heart warming at the praise. The smile was her only answer as she continued to focus her attention on the candle flame before her. ‘I can feel the flame!’ she thought, amazed at the intimacy of the experience. ‘It’s like ... I *am* the flame.’

She and the rest of her mini-coven — Tara and Willow — were in their casting room, or ‘Wicca World’ as Buffy usually referred to it. Today’s exercise was one of fine control, rather than power. She’d already made the flame change colors by selectively suppressing the combustion of certain elements present in the wax fuel.

‘Now for something new,’ she thought with a slight feeling of trepidation. ‘Something they haven’t shown me before ... maybe even something they haven’t thought of before!’

Proximity of the flame to the wax causes the wax to melt, drawing it up the wick to feed the flame. Dawn created a channel of heat from the flame downward, allowing her to lift the flame up from the wick. Simultaneously, she caused the melting wax to flow upward through and past the wick, continuing to feed the flame even as it rose up and away from the candle.

She halted the upward travel once the flame was hovering almost half a meter above the candle.

Dawn’s smile widened, though she refrained from expressing her own excitement otherwise. ‘Now for the really tough part,’ she thought, taking a moment to will her heart rate down towards normal.

She took a deep breath and then began to manipulate the natural air current as directed by the flame’s heat. Instead of the normal upward flow, Dawn began to curve it sideways; not increasing the speed, thus distorting the flame, but rather changing angle in which the flame pointed. Once it was pointing about forty-five degrees upward to the floor, she added another element, twisting the current in a spiral.

It wasn’t readily apparent in the shape of the flame due to its short length, so she increased the flow of heat to the candle, and the flow of the wax to the flame.

“Wow!” both of her sister witches sighed as, within seconds, Dawn had created a spiral of flame taking on a helix shape that stretched a good thirty centimeters in length.

Dawn noticed the candle was rapidly being consumed and as one last touch, she ran the flame’s color through the rainbow spectrum, ending just as the candle disappeared entirely. The flame lasted only a second longer until the wax that fueled it was consumed entirely.

Tara actually began clapping, joined immediately by Willow. Dawn blushed, but felt extremely pleased by the response.

“Sweetie, that was amazing!” Tara gushed, her mouth bearing her trademark lopsided grin.

“So pretty!” Willow added, her hand coming to rest on Dawn’s knee and giving her a gentle squeeze.

“Thanks,” Dawn replied. “Lately it’s been really easy to find and maintain my focus.”

Tara just smiled in response, but Willow seemed less reticent to comment. “I guess regular sex is really helping?”

“Mmm,” Dawn hummed with pleasure, knowing exactly to what the redhead was referring. “Well, we started with desert,” she said blushing at the memory even as she reveled in it.

Dawn glanced at Tara, seeing the blonde roll her eyes at Willow’s prompting. ‘Hmm, I notice you don’t tell her to stop though,’ she thought with a smirk.

“Uh huh,” she responded. “And, seriously, I have to thank you for finding that dark-chocolate syrup ... we both really, *really* like it!”

“Yeah?” Willow asked, bouncing with excitement. “Well, give us details!”

Though not at all reticent to share with Willow, Dawn glanced at Tara uncertainly and stammered, “Um, well ... there’s ... well....”

“It’s okay, Dawnie,” Tara said with both amusement and assurance in her expression. “I’m tough; I don’t think I’ll be scarred for life by hearing the word ‘penis.’”

Dawn took a deep breath and said, “Okay! Well, basically we barely got in the door and Xan had me naked on the kitchen counter—”

“Hey Giles,” Buffy said, feeling upbeat as she entered her watcher’s apartment.

She hid a smile as he began to rub the bridge of his nose. ‘Poor Giles,’ she thought indulgently.

“You do realize that, with your mother living here now, you run the risk of walking in on....” He trailed off, raising an eyebrow and staring at her intently.

Buffy’s eyes widened as she caught his gist. “Ack! Let’s not go there!” she protested. “I so don’t need the mental trauma right now.”

‘Yeah, score one for the watcher,’ she thought sourly upon seeing his poorly concealed smirk. ‘Moving on to safer territory.’

Buffy walked over to Giles’ couch and dropped down onto it, relaxing into its shape with cat-like grace. “So, did’ja find out anything about the wanna-be super-vamp’s bling-bling?” she asked.

“I often find myself wondering why they even bother to teach English in schools any more.” Giles said, staring at her, dumfounded. “Clearly it isn’t doing a bit of good.”

She smiled at the age-old argument. “Oh yeah,” she countered. “Like ‘poofter’ or ‘bint’ or ‘wanker’ are real words.”

She smiled even wider at the look of indignation on his face. ‘Game, set, and match to the slayer!’ she thought happily.

“I gain more and more respect for your mother with each passing day,” he muttered under his breath, turning away from her. “It’s a wonder she managed to remain sane.”

“Hey! Slayer hearing, remember?” Buffy cried out, pretending to be outraged.

“As to the amulet, I’ve been unable to reach anyone at the Devon Coven,” he blithely changed the subject as though she hadn’t even spoken. “The markings on it appear to be Roman. There are symbolic representations that I believe to be regarding a goddess Libitina.”

“Huh, never heard of her,” Buffy said, immediately forgetting their language argument.

‘Great, now entering watcher-lecture mode,’ Buffy thought with a resigned sigh.

“Makes sense,” Buffy interrupted — because she could. “What goes with death and corpses? Survey says: Vampire!”

“Hmm, not necessarily,” Giles countered. “Though she was the goddess of death and corpses, her temples became the first ... well, mortuaries essentially. She wasn’t in any way associated with the undead that I recall.”

“So, why then did this vampire believe that it would provide him with invulnerability?” he wondered aloud.

“Someone told him?” Buffy said with a question in her tone. “I mean, how else would he know?”

Giles raised his brows and pursed his lips for a moment, apparently considering her comment. “Yes, well, I suppose he might have found a lost text.”

Buffy shook her head and interrupted, “No way Giles. Trust me; this guy wasn’t a reader.”

“He totally had ‘high school jock’ written all over him!” Buffy explained.

“Yes, of course,” Giles said dismissively, removing his glasses and pinching the bridge of his nose.

In any case, there is cause for concern,” Giles segued. “Why would someone, or something provide that particular vampire with this amulet and then lead him to believe that it would make him invulnerable.”

“You think someone was setting him up?” Buffy interjected. “Why would someone do that?”

Giles expression showed surprise. “I hadn’t considered that ... it does seem unlikely; the amulet is definitely magical ... but for what?”

“You got me,” Buffy interjected. “That’s why we brought it to you: Giles the answer-man, research-guru—”

“Hmm?” he asked, shaking his head slightly as though distracted. “Yes, well ... rhetorical questions at this point, I suppose.”

“So, if the books aren’t giving it up, how’re we gonna figure it out?” she asked.

“Yes, well, as I mentioned, I’ve been trying to reach an associate of mine who happens to be a member of the Devon Coven. I recall having a discussion with her once that involved an artifact, and I’m nearly certain that it had to do with Libitina.”

“Her, huh?” Buffy said with a smile. “This a ‘former honey’ type ‘her’?” she teased.

The blush on Giles face caused her to change gears in a hurry. “It is, isn’t it? Forget it. Say no more; I don’t wanna know!” she protested, covering her ears melodramatically.

“Buffy!” Giles objected sternly. “Really now, this could be a serious issue! What if this amulet had given the vampire the invulnerability he claimed?”

‘Jeez!’ Buffy thought, in no way feeing Giles’ anxiety. “Been there, done that, got the T-shirt. It’s no big.”

“Buffy,” he began, clearly dismayed by her response. “I realize that your, um ... slaying abilities ... have markedly increased of late; however, that is no reason to take such a threat lightly!”

‘Doesn’t he remember?’ Buffy thought as she cocked her head and frowned lightly at him. “Um ... Giles?”

Giles straightened as if he’d just touched a live wire. “I ... well ... that is—” he stammered.

‘It’s like I can see the wheelie things turning in his head,’ Buffy thought with a highly amused smile as he absorbed her comment. She leaned back with a pleased sigh, lacing her fingers behind her head while she waited for him to respond.

“I ... well ... I suppose that ... that was a, ah ... similar situation,” he haltingly allowed.

“Yeah, if by ‘similar’ you mean ‘identical,’” Buffy said with a smug grin.

“Soooo,” she began, drawing out the word until Giles focused on her again. “Anyway, I’m all on board the ‘let’s figure out what the amulet thingie is’ train, but I don’t think we’re really in crisis mode or anything.”

“No!” Buffy whined with a petulant pout. “How come there has to be a ‘however’?” she demanded. “Why can’t you just say, ‘Yes, Buffy. You were totally right, and I was totally wrong.’?”

“However,” he reiterated, ignoring her interruption with the exception of one raised brow. “We mustn’t forget that someone turned over a potentially powerful magical artifact to a vampire.”

“And again with the ‘yeah, so?’” Buffy asked when he finished. ‘Still not seeing the big deal,’ she thought confidently.

Giles removed his glasses and began polishing them with his ever-present handkerchief. “Yes, well ... without actually knowing the motivation behind such an action, I can only presume that this was an attempt to, well ... to target you ... or perhaps Faith ... or perhaps the both of you.”

“’Cause the first thing a magically powerful vamp is gonna do is go after the slayer; I get it. You’re saying there’s a new big-bad in town and they’re gunning for little old me.” She said with a sigh.

“I must say, Buffy,” Giles began, his face radiating disapproval. “I’m rather concerned about your cavalier attitude.”

‘Bad Buffy,’ she thought, slightly chagrinned. ‘Don’t want to push the watcher too far ... he’s just worried for me.’ She sat forward, bracing her hands on her knees as she leaned her upper body towards her watcher.

“I’m sorry, Giles,” she said, slightly repentant. “It’s just ... it’s not like this is new or anything, you know? There’s always a big-bad, and they always want to kill me, either personally, or, you know, the whole world plus me. It’s not like I don’t take it seriously, it’s just ... I just can’t be afraid and stuff. I know I’m gonna win. The only way I ever lose is if I try to do it all on my own, without you guys — and I’ve totally learned my lesson on that! With the Scooby Gang backing me, I always win.”

She smiled brightly and added, “Plus, now with the new and improved slayer power, I totally rock! I took out those twelve easier than I used to fight one!”

“That’s not counting his not-so-unkillableness, or the two that went after Wil and Tara.” She added. “It was like opening morning at the Bloomingdale’s after-Christmas sale — like a forest made out of arms and legs.”

“And they didn’t even land a single punch, Giles!” she said in excited wonder. “I totally kicked their asses and they didn’t even touch me ... well, except for where I touched them when I, you know, punched, or kicked, or elbowed, or—”

“I think I understand,” Giles interrupted. “I must say, that is extraordinary! Amazingly so.”

The warmth she felt at his praise was tempered, “I hear a ‘but’ coming.”

“I agree that a conventional foe would have little chance at defeating you Buffy,” he began in a conciliatory tone.

“Yes, well,” he dropped his gaze slightly. “We cannot ignore the fact that this foe, whoever — or whatever — it may be ... has access to magical resources that have confounded our two resident — and most puissant — experts.”

‘Pwe-sent?’ Buffy thought, her knee-jerk objection deflected by the unfamiliar vocabulary.

“While I do agree that it is very likely that we can, and will, defeat this new foe,” he continued while she was still chewing on the foreign terminology. “We must, as always, take care to understand what it is that we are facing, and then develop a plan of action.”

“Right, we Scooby-do the research, figure out what it is, and then I slay it. I’ve got Wil and Tara to back me if it’s all, like, magical and stuff,” Buffy agreed with a casual shrug.

‘See, it’s all good,’ Buffy thought with a satisfied smile, relaxing back into the couch.

“Speaking of magical ... and stuff,” Giles began, his voice once again hesitant.

“Assuming I’m able to reach anyone at the coven I’d mentioned, I’d like to suggest that Tara or Willow ... well, that they take the amulet to England,” he said softly.

“So these witchy pals of yours can look at it?” Buffy asked — all the while thinking, ‘Why is he all with the worry?’

“Yes, well, that ... and for safe-keeping. The Devon Coven has an excellent collection of artifacts entrusted to their care. They have a reputation for reliable containment of more dangerous items.” he explained. “And, I trust them over the council ... despite our current, um, arrangement.”

“Cool,” Buffy chirped. “It’ll be like a vacation, except without so much of the sunny-beachy goodness.”

“Okay, spill already,” Buffy demanded with a raised eyebrow. “What’s with the tragedy-face?”

“Ahh, yes,” he began, his eyes dropping to the floor. “Well, that is ... I’m not certain that it would be a good idea for you to ... um, that is, what with this unknown adversary about—”

Buffy sat up, frowning. “What are you saying, Giles?” she asked, her heartbeat increasing as though in imminent peril.

Visibly grabbing hold of himself, Giles brought his gaze back up to meet hers. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to leave the Hellmouth unguarded right now, what with some new foe stirring up trouble.”

“With Quentin due in this week, I’m not sure Faith will be sufficiently focused,” he immediately countered.

“Giles, what are you telling me?” she demanded, her heart starting to race, and her breath quickening.

Giles face softened, and his voice was gentle as he answered, “I think it would be best if you were to stay here and continue to patrol, while either Tara or Willow, or both, consult with the coven.”

Buffy immediately stiffened, her back popping up away from the couch as she sat upright. Her mouth was suddenly dry as she tried to lick her lips. Her head began to shake side to side. “No ... no, no. No, Giles!” she rasped.

“Bad, bad, bad, badness,” she muttered, her hands feeling suddenly cold and clammy as she continued to shake her head in the negative.

“Buffy, it would only be for three or four days ... a week at most,” he said with a conciliatory tone.

“Days!” she immediately leapt on the word as though it were particularly nasty vampire. “Days? No, Giles!” her heart was hammering in her chest and a bitter taste filled her mouth. “Minutes! Minutes I can do, even hours—”

“But days!?” she continued, her voice rising. She shot to her feet and a roaring filled her ears as she screamed, “No! No, I won’t!” She immediately turned and ran, tearing the door open in her haste to escape. The sound of splintering wood barely registered in her awareness as she poured on the speed, racing for home. She had the image of her lovers fixed in her mind, one thought shrieking through her brain over and over: ‘Need you! Need you, now!’

“So then we pretty much did it all over again in the shower, except without the chocolate.” Dawn finished the story.

‘Oh, I think I might’ve sprained poor Tara’s brain,’ she thought, glancing at the blonde. A brief look to her other side netted a far different result. ‘Willow just looks, um ... hungry.’

Ignoring the hormonal quagmire of Willow’s reaction, Dawn focused her attention on Tara. “Too much information?” she asked, trying for a sympathetic rather than humorous tone.

“Goodness!” Tara said with a gulp. “I ... I guess I never really pictured ... um, you know.”

Dawn raised her eyebrows, waiting for the stunned witch to gather her thoughts. ‘This is kinda interesting — what she thinks about it.’

“Boy, not boys,” Dawn clarified with a chuckle. “Xan and I haven’t done any threesomes. And besides, I don’t think he’d be open to another man in our bed.”

‘Now, that was just evil, Summers,’ Dawn thought, unable to continue suppressing her grin.

‘What the...?’ Dawn wondered as she met the redhead’s eyes and saw a strange glimmer.

The salacious look on the redhead’s face immediately dropped away. “What?” she asked defensively. “I didn’t mean *me*....” Her voice trailed off quietly while her gaze dropped to her wringing hands in her lap.

Dawn glanced toward Tara and saw the look on her face. “Uh oh! Somebody’s in trouble,” she sing-songed.

“And you’re not helping matters, missy, egging her on like that!” Tara said, turning on Dawn.

‘Mmm, hmm,’ Dawn thought, catching a sly grin on Willow’s face. ‘Somebody *likes* being in trouble I think.’

“You’re both lucky Buffy’s not—” Tara suddenly frowned in mid-chastisement. “not ... here....”

“What is it?” Dawn asked as both of the other witches began to stand up and head for the door.

“What? Is she hurt?” Dawn asked, a tendril of worry threading through her psyche. She got up and followed as they quickly exited the spell-casting room.

‘Buffy’s afraid?’ Dawn thought, her concern increasing at the thought. ‘But ... what would make Buffy afraid?’

“She’s on her way here,” Tara muttered, her expression one of concern and concentration.

An uneasy silence filled the room as Tara and Willow stood by the door, wringing their hands.

It didn’t take long before the door to the mansion swung open hard and Buffy came running in, out of breath and crying. “Tara! Willow!” she howled, distraught.

‘Oh, God!’ Dawn thought, watching her friends instantly attach themselves to the weeping blonde. A huge lump rose in her throat as she watched her sister break down. ‘She sounds like something horrible happened!’

“Don’t go!” Buffy wailed, collapsing in her lovers arms. “Don’t let him send you away!”

Dawn watched in shock as the three women dropped to the floor together. She felt tears of her own start at the raw pain in Buffy’s voice.

“Never!” Tara cried out, tears streaming down her face. “We won’t leave you, Buffy.”

‘It’s like watching a car wreck,’ popped into Dawn’s mind as she witnessed the spectacle unfolding before her. ‘I shouldn’t be seeing this.’ She felt nauseous as fear, guilt, and embarrassment churned in her gut, but she couldn’t drag her gaze away from it.

“I promise!” Willow swore intently. “Mistress, I’m yours forever; you know that I could never leave you!”

“I couldn’t live without you — without either of you,” Buffy’s voice was filled with despair, but her look at Willow had a glimmer of hope in it.

‘Oh God!’ Dawn thought, feeling guilt like a punch to the solar plexus. It was enough to make her turn away and stumble across the room to the couch, facing away from weeping triad. ‘And I was almost flirting with her,’ she agonized, suddenly feeling as though she’d betrayed her sister and her best friend with her earlier teasing. She sat, hunched over and clutching at her stomach, trying to block out everything happening behind her.

“What the hell happened?” she whispered to herself as her mind spun in circles.

Minutes later she barely noticed that the sounds in the room had quieted. “Dawn?” Tara’s soft voice broke into her reverie.

Tara wiped at her tear-soaked cheeks and said, “I ... I’m not sure exactly.” She gulped audibly before continuing, “Something about Giles wanting to send us — Willow and me — away for something ... she’s not exactly making sense yet.”

“Is she—” Dawn sniffed back her tears before continuing, “Is she gonna be okay?”

“Of course she is, Dawnie,” Tara reassured, managing an altogether unconvincing smile. “We just need to get her calmed down.”

Dawn nodded, not challenging the statement. “Okay, I’ll um ... I’ll go home I guess,” she said, part of her wanting to stay and find out what happened, the other part wanting to give Buffy some privacy.

“Absolutely! Of course I can!” Dawn immediately agreed, leaping on the opportunity to do something constructive. “I’ll find out what happened and I’ll call you right away!” she said, standing up to leave.

“Um, how about—” Tara interjected sounding somewhat chagrinned. “How about we’ll call you after....” She trailed off, blushing.

“After? Oh!” Dawn broke off, nodding her agreement. ‘Comfort sex, right.’ She cleared her throat and said, “I’ll go get Xan and we’ll head over to Giles’. You can just call there, um ... later.”

“Hey, you know I’m totally there for you guys,” Dawn answered. “Any time, you know, whatever you need and stuff. Anything, just ask!”

Tara nodded, a flash of gratitude in her expression before she turned back to where Willow was leading Buffy to the bedroom.

‘Beyond bizarre,’ Dawn thought as she left the mansion. ‘This is weird even for Scooby-drama.’

“I love you, I won’t leave you, I promise,” Willow whispered soothingly into Buffy’s ear. They were lying on their sides, face to face on their bed. Buffy was still weeping softly, clutching Willow tightly to her.

‘Goddess, what happened to you?’ Willow wondered, fear flowing like ice through her body at her lover’s breakdown.

“Shh, shh, I’m right here,” she spoke softly as she combed her fingers through the blonde’s tresses.

“I ... I can’t l-lose you, Wil,” Buffy’s cry was softer, but no less painful.

Willow’s own tears ran down her face, sorrow running through her along with the fear. “You won’t, Buffy. I swear!” she reassured fervently, tightening her embrace around the smaller women.

“I need you, Wil! You and Tara ... I c-can’t live without you!” Buffy spoke intently.

Willow swallowed past the lump in her throat and her voice was ragged as she replied, “I belong to you, Buffy, remember?” She pulled away just enough to take hold of Buffy’s hand and guide it up to the collar around her neck. “See? It says, ‘Property of Buffy Summers.’ I couldn’t remove it even if I wanted to; and that’s never gonna happen.”

A hesitant smile appeared on Buffy’s face. “For ever and ever?” she asked in a little-girl voice.

“Forever and ever and ever!” Willow answered intently, smiling back at her lover. Her smile grew even more as Tara entered her line of sight.

The taller blonde climbed onto the bed and scooted over to embrace Buffy from behind.

Buffy’s eyes slipped shut and she whimpered softly as her own mistress held her and nuzzled her hair. “Oh, Tara!” she sighed.

“Oh, Buffy, my darling girl,” Tara crooned softly. “Don’t you know we’d never leave you?”

“Doesn’t matter,” Tara whispered, turning Buffy’s head towards her and kissing her gently. After ending the kiss, she stared intently into Buffy’s eyes and slowly and clearly said, “We. Are. Not. Leaving. You.”

Willow held her breath as Buffy visibly hesitated. After a few seconds, the petite body in her arms relaxed. ‘Thank goodness!’ Willow thought with a relieved exhale.

“Never!” Tara huffed. Any further protest from Buffy was halted as Tara pulled her onto her back and began kissing her passionately.

‘Mmm,’ Willow thought with a sigh. ‘Playtime? No ... comfort-time I think.’

Taking advantage of her lover’s face being turned away, Willow started her way up the side of Buffy’s neck with soft, gentle kisses. ‘Goddess, I love your warm, smooth skin,’ she thought. Whether the whimper that Buffy made was due to Willow sucking on her earlobe, or due to Tara’s kiss, it warmed the redhead’s heart just the same.

‘How I love you, Mistress Buffy,’ she thought, her heartfelt adoration for the slayer filling her mind as she concentrated on soothing and pleasing her mistress. “May I get rid of these clothes?” she whispered into Buffy’s ear.

“Mmmhmm!” Buffy moaned, Tara not letting up on their kiss long enough for her to verbalize.

Willow smiled at Buffy’s eager grunt. ‘Hmm, it’d be a shame to make Tara let her go long enough to undress her...,’ she thought, rationalizing what she was about to do. Focusing her inner sight on the material making up Buffy’s clothes, Willow thought, ‘Unravel.’

She pictured the fabric unraveling like a thread being pulled in a cartoon. Soon Buffy’s outer layer of pants and blouse were floating through the air as a string running from her body to the empty space on the floor where the clothes rebuilt themselves.

‘Why am I not surprised that she’s going commando again?’ Willow thought with a smile.

Once the slayer was completely unencumbered, Willow began to kiss her way back down her tanned neck, taking her time and doing everything with a gentle passion, rather than hurrying right to the erogenous zones. When she reached the upper slope of Buffy’s left breast, she noticed that Tara was mirroring her actions. As she met her fellow-witch’s gaze, Tara lifted her lips away from Buffy’s flesh just long enough to whisper, “That was really cool!”

‘Slayer-healing is definitely a good thing,’ Willow thought as she kissed and nuzzled Buffy’s soft breast. ‘Keeps these tight and perky even with the “no bra” demon fighting she does.’ She resisted the urge to nibble on the nipple, instead flicking it softly with her tongue while she angled her head to look up at Buffy’s face.

Buffy’s head was tilted back, her eyes squeezed shut and her mouth open and panting.

“So sexy!” Willow heard Tara’s quietly awed whisper. She glanced over to see a look of wonder on the blonde witch’s face.

“Oh yeah!” she sighed in response before taking Buffy’s erect flesh into her mouth and beginning to suckle like a baby.

Tara shot her another lopsided grin before emulating her actions on Buffy’s right side.

Willow’s eyes slipped shut as she felt her mistress’s fingers combing through her hair. ‘This is perfect,’ she thought as she swirled her tongue round and round, sucking strongly at the turgid little nub in her mouth.

After a time, Buffy’s whimpers and sighs grew louder and more frequent. ‘Hmm, methinks my mistress has other little bits she’d like sucked!’ Willow thought with a grin as she felt her lover’s hand ‘encouraging’ her to head south. ‘As Mistress commands, I happily obey!’

A glance showed her that Tara’s head was moving in the opposite direction and Willow shivered with excitement. ‘Oh my, I get it all to myself!’ She kissed her way down to Buffy’s belly, stopping to tease and lick the shallow depression there. ‘Relax, don’t rush ... take it slow. It’s not like it’s going anywhere,’ she told herself.

She forced herself to wait until she again felt Buffy’s hand pushing her downward. ‘Goddess, you smell so good!’ she thought as Buffy’s scent filled her awareness. The redhead whimpered herself and began to salivate as she got closer to her goal.

Willow felt Buffy’s thigh muscle quivering under her hand as she lifted herself over it. Her eyes took in the sight of Buffy pulling at her own nipples while Tara kissed her slow and deep. Her eyes moved down to what was right before her and she licked her lips in anticipation. ‘So beautiful, Mistress!’ she thought, humming with pleasure. ‘So wet and open for me!’

She could wait no longer and immediately leaned forward, taking her first taste. “Mmm mmm!” she crooned happily.

Her eyes slipped shut and she navigated the familiar territory by touch, keeping her movements slow and soft. Her lips and tongue were her implements as she created art in the medium of slick, wet flesh.

‘So good,’ she thought with pleasure, each drawn breath filled with the intimate richness of her lover’s scent. “Mmmm,” every exhale was a satisfied sigh. There was no sense of time, just the everlasting sound, taste and smell of her lover.

When she heard Buffy’s first scream of release muffled against Tara’s mouth, she narrowed her focus, nursing on her lover’s clit as she had earlier on her nipple. Though she kept her movements slow, she sucked strongly, rubbing her tongue in gradual circles around it.

It wasn’t long before Buffy was again shrieking into Tara’s mouth, and Willow immediately pushed two fingers inside the slayer’s quivering sex. She continued her oral ministrations while using her fingertips to rub firmly against that secret spot that would ignite the Buffy-rocket-to-paradise.

‘Yours, yours ... belong to you, Mistress!’ Willow chanted to herself as she drove Buffy to the absolute heights of pleasure. She wrapped her free arm around Buffy’s thigh and held on tightly, instinctively knowing the ride was about to become rough.

Buffy’s arching, undulating body must have been sufficient to break Tara’s kiss, because Willow heard her name shrieked out loud. ‘Yes! Love you so much!’ she thought, bursting with pure and overwhelming joy.

Holding on as tight as she could, Willow managed to keep her mouth and fingers working, prolonging the slayer’s release until she slumped back to the bed, boneless and quivering. Only then did she let up, removing her fingers and ever so gently lapping the copious wetness from her lover’s sex.

Moving up Buffy’s still shuddering body, Willow was amazed. ‘So beautiful ... that I could bring you this much pleasure, it makes me so happy!’ she thought with a sense of pride and joyfulness.

Snuggling up against Buffy’s side, Willow nuzzled and kissed her neck, and then whispered, “Yours, Mistress. I am yours forever.”

Once again Buffy wept. This time though, Willow could tell that they were tears of joy.

“Wow,” Xander said, shaking his head at the story Dawn had just told him. “But, she’s gonna be okay, right?” he sought reassurance.

They were in Xander’s truck heading toward Joyce and Giles apartment. Dawn had arrived home early from her magic practice and told him they had to go see Giles and she’d explain why on the way.

“Yeah, I think so,” Dawn said with only a slightly worried tone. “I’m pretty sure Tara and Willow are, um, making her feel better and stuff.”

“So what the heck did Giles do to make her freak like that?” he wondered aloud.

“Well, hopefully we’re about to find out,” Dawn answered his semi-rhetorical question.

He glanced sideways to see her smiling teasingly at him. ‘Mmm, my sexy girl!’ he thought indulgently.

Her smile changed from teasing to what he thought of as her ‘I love you’ smile, and she took hold of his hand, lacing their fingers together. ‘Love you too, kitten,’ he thought back at her.

“So, you getting used to driving this thing?” she asked after a moment’s silence.

“Well, it’s not nearly as quick and nice handling as yours,” he said in mock-complaint.

“Yeah, but there’s way more room to fool around in it!” she answered back with a laugh.

“Very true,” he allowed, grinning happily. He looked briefly around the cockpit of the GMC Yukon Denali with a satisfied feeling. “Yeah, it’s nice. Comfortable.”

“And in a pinch, we could probably get the whole gang in here,” Dawn added with a laugh.

“Ack!” Xander frowned with distaste. “Way to ruin a perfectly good fantasy, Dawn!”

‘Funny how just holding your hand makes it like everything’s gonna be okay,’ he thought.

“Huh, looks like Mom’s just getting home,” Dawn said as Xander pulled the truck into the complex’s parking lot.

“Mom!” Dawn called out. She shot a quick glance at Xander and said, “Catch up, ’kay?”

He watched appreciatively as she jogged to catch up with her mother. ‘Mmm, I think my truck is already filled with all the sexy women I need,’ he thought with love and lust.

“Rupert!” Joyce’s scream startled Xander into a sprint even as Dawn called out his name.

He rounded the corner and leapt down the six steps into the courtyard at a dead run, skidding to a sudden halt as he caught up to the two Summers women, standing outside the door to Giles’ place.

“Whoa! What the—” he began as he noticed that the door was leaning precariously in its frame.

“Alright! It’s quite alright!” Giles’ voice came out of the apartment. “I’m perfectly fine,” he continued the reassurance as the door began to wiggle.

Xander quickly moved forward and helped the watcher move the heavy wood aside. “Buffy?” he asked when Giles flushed face appeared.

“Rupert, what?” Joyce sounded flummoxed. “What’s going on? Did something happen to Buffy? And what happened to our door?”

“That’s what we’re here to find out,” Dawn spoke out. “Well, except the door part. Though, I’d guess that was Buffy freaking out after whatever you said to her.”

“Tell you what,” Xander interrupted. “Why don’t you guys go inside. G-man can make some tea or whatever to calm down, and I’ll get my tools out of the truck and see if I can fix the door, okay? Then we can figure out what happened.”

“Okay, cool,” Dawn said with a pleased smile. She began herding the two parental units into the building while Xander walked away, shaking his head.

“Hellgods, no problem; but Buffy throws a fit, and we all lose our friggin’ minds!” he muttered as he headed back out to the truck.

“Okay, okay,” Xander said feeling less than full comprehension after all the stories had been told. “I know I’m not necessarily the brightest candle on the cake here, but you’re saying that Buffy had a major meltdown because you wanted Willow and Tara ... to go to England for a couple days?”

After a moment of ringing silence, Xander asked, “So, is it just me that’s in the no-comprende zone here?”

‘Dang, now I know he’s freaked,’ Xander thought, his face echoing Joyce’s surprise.

“Honestly, I did imagine that Buffy wouldn’t be particularly eager to part company with Tara or Willow for even a brief time, given their, um ... closeness,” Giles explained exasperatedly. “However, I was in no way prepared for the ... intensity ... of her reaction.”

“Yeah, she was pretty much a total wreck by the time she got to Wil and Tara,” Dawn offered.

“Yeah, I think so,” Dawn said reassuringly. “Tara’s gonna call when they’re finished ... um, you know, calming her down and stuff.”

“They’re ... ah ... reconnecting. You know—” Dawn explained, waving her hands vaguely.

“Ah ... reconnecting,” Joyce said, a look of comprehension dawning on her face.

Giles rolled his eyes and mumbled something under his breath. Xander only caught the words “typical” and “hormone-addled.”

“So, what are we going to do?” Xander changed the subject. “I mean, about the amulet thing?”

“Well, at the moment there’s little we can do, as I’ve been unable to reach anyone from the coven.” Giles answered.

“I’ve left over a dozen messages,” Giles went on, removing his glasses and polishing them vigorously.

“Why? What is it that they can do that Wil and Tara can’t?” Dawn asked curiously.

“Yes, well, it isn’t so much what they might be able to do, as what they may know,” Giles explained. “I’m fairly certain that I recall a discussion regarding an artifact of the Libitinarii temple.”

Giles raised his eyebrows, apparently considering it. After a moment his brows dropped and he frowned. “Well, it was quite some time ago ... I have only a vague recollection of the conversation....” He trailed off at that point.

“How come you don’t remember?” Dawn asked, with a slight frown of her own. “Aren’t you, like, Mr. Memory-guy?”

“Hmm, vague recollections, usually stopping in the middle of a sentence, followed by taking off into the stacks to find some book ... yep, that’s Giles!” Xander corrected her with a broad smirk.

“Yes, well, it was some time ago,” Giles began, his eyes sliding away from Xander’s.

“And there were ... um ... distractions,” he finished, ducking his head slightly.

Xander saw Joyce’s face don an arch look. The ringing of the phone, however, interrupted anything she might have been about to say.

“Hmm, saved by the bell,” Joyce said as Giles moved with alacrity toward the kitchen phone.

‘I’m pretty sure *that* conversation isn’t over,’ Xander thought snarkily.

“I swear, if that’s the call he’s been waiting for, I’m going to start looking for hidden cameras!” Dawn groused. “Talk about your cliché plot devices.”

“Our lives do have a kinda ‘teen horror flick’ quality to them,” Xander laughed.

“Good heavens, Sarah!” Giles voice exploded. “Have you any idea how many messages I’ve left! Where in God’s name have you been?” he demanded.

Xander glanced at his lover and her mother and saw nearly identical looks of surprised skepticism. “Gotta be the Hellmouth,” he muttered, shaking his head.

Quentin Travers squinted against the glare of the bright, southern California sun as he exited the jetway into the Sunnydale International Airport. “Loathsome place,” he muttered with a sneer as he took in his surroundings.

“America,” Quentin answered sourly. “Do you know what it is that makes this country such an execrable place?” he asked, his eyes not meeting the younger man’s, but rather surveying the people filling the concourse.

He stared at his aide disdainfully until the younger man stopped laughing. “Come along, Jeremy,” he said with a wearied sigh, walking toward the exit, outside of which he could see a line of yellow cabs.

‘The sooner that I am ensconced in my hotel room, the sooner you can make some pathetic excuse and slink off to plan your “secret” treachery,’ he thought with grim humor.

“Yes, thank you, Sarah, I’ll let you know ... I shall, you as well ... goodbye then.” Giles hung up the phone and immediately began cleaning his glasses.

Xander looked away from the watcher to Joyce and saw the slightly raised brow and pursed lips. ‘Looks like G-man’s in trouble,’ he thought with a smirk.

Looking to his lover he saw a similar smirk on her face. “Somebody’s in trouble,” she whispered to him quietly.

The hesitancy which Giles displayed in his slow movements back towards the other three made Xander’s smirk grow until he had to restrain himself from giggling.

“Yes, well ... um,” Giles stammered as he began his response. “She’s, um, well ... she’s the leader of the coven in Devon.”

Giles blushed slightly. “Um, well, she’s a ... um, a long-time acquaintance of mine.”

‘Come on, G-man!’ Xander thought exasperatedly. ‘Even I can see she’s baiting a trap here!’

“Um, well ... yes,” Giles admitted. The look on his face was that of a man who knows he’s walking into dangerous territory, yet is seemingly unable to see any other path.

‘Oh, you’re so gonna owe me,’ Xander thought before interrupting. “Why’d it take her so long to return your calls, G-man?”

He studiously ignored the look both Joyce and Dawn shot him, instead keeping his attention focused on Giles, and his own face as expressionless as possible.

“Ah! Well,” Giles fairly leapt on the subject change as a drowning man grasps for a life-preserver. “It seems that the entire coven is attending a week-long out-of-town conference. She’d only just checked for messages this afternoon.” The look of relief on his face was palpable.

“Actually, it may prove quite beneficial,” Giles continued, clearly preferring the present topic to the previous one. “The conference is here in the States.”

Xander put his arm around her and hugged her to his side. ‘Great. Vegas,’ he thought. ‘There’s some happy memories.’

“Anya?” Jeremy’s tremulous call barely broke the stillness of the room. He shot a nervous glance at his watch before once again looking around the dimly lit space. “Anya, are you here? I-I realize that I’m a b-bit early....” He trailed off, wincing at his stammering voice.

“Did you bring it?” a hard, yet clearly feminine voice caused the watcher to squeak and jump.

He turned sharply to his left and could make out the silhouette of a woman in the doorway to another room. “O-oh, Anya ... I-I,” he stuttered.

“The money, Jeremy,” Anya said, sounding perturbed. “Did you bring the money?”

Jeremy’s breath was taken away as she moved forward into the slightly better light of the room. “Yes,” he breathed, whether in answer to her question, or in response to the fact that she was wearing nothing but stockings and high-heeled shoes.

“How much were you able to steal from your boss, Mr. Travers?” she asked guilelessly.

Jeremy flushed in shame at the bluntness of her question. “I, uh, that is, I was able to divert, um—”

“Eighteen thousand...,” he began, his voice hoarse with desire and disgrace.

“Pounds?” she asked, immediately turning from anger to contemplativeness. “Hmm, today’s exchange is one point six four two to one ... that’s just under thirty thousand U.S. dollars.”

“Good job, Jeremy. Now we can begin the orgasms,” she said with a bright smile, unzipping his trousers and pulling his already erect cock out. She wasted no time with further pleasantries, but slid his member down her throat and began to work her head up and down, sucking strongly.

“Oh dear!” Jeremy gasped, dropping the folder in his hand and scattering papers all over the floor.

The watcher only managed to last for a minute or so before his eyes rolled back and he began spurting his cum into her mouth.

Anya gulped him down and pulled off of his rapidly deflating tool with a slurping pop. “That didn’t take long,” she commented. “I certainly hope you’ll last longer next time.”

“Come on then,” she said, standing up and grabbing his limp dick. “You can lick me to several satisfying orgasms while we wait for this to get hard again.”

With that she walked away, leading him by his flaccid prick into the other room.

“Yeah, I’ll do ’em; half now, half after,” the less than reputable looking fellow said.

“I’m not sure,” Jeremy started, feeling uneasy about the entire process. “How do we know he won’t just keep the money?” he added in an aside to Anya.

“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Anya said brightly. “He was recommended very highly. Bob — he’s this Darmsaugen demon I know — anyway, Bob promised to suck this guy’s entrails out through his nose if he didn’t successfully complete the contract.”

Jeremy noticed the up-until-now stoic man shudder at the comment. “Very well, I suppose we have an agreement,” he muttered begrudgingly.

Anya tossed an envelope on the table, saying, “Money, pictures, and addresses. Especially including the address of my shop where you absolutely must not do it! I’ve cleaned enough blood out of that floor; I don’t need any more!” she added vehemently.

“Right. Do ’em outside the store,” the man said in a bored voice, his whole attitude conveying the desire to end this conversation.

“No!” Anya screamed. “Not inside the store; not outside the store; somewhere away, far away from the Magic Box!”

“Yes, go. I am tired of talking to you,” Anya said with a dismissive wave. Turning to the cringing watcher as if the hit man wasn’t even there, she loudly said, “Come on, Jeremy. I want you to give me more orgasms now.”

Flaming with embarrassment, Jeremy heard the hit-man say with a chuckle as he walked away, “I definitely got the better job!”

“I hope Buffy’s feeling better,” Dawn whispered in his ear as they approached the triad’s mansion.

“I just can’t picture her freaking out like that ... I mean, I get what you said, I just can’t picture it in my head,” Xander replied as he pulled the Yukon up next to the triad’s van.

“It was definitely of the bizarre!” she agreed. After a pause, she added in a hesitant whisper, “I wish I hadn’t seen it.”

Xander dropped the transmission into park and then reached over to gently rub his lover’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’s okay now, Dawn. You know nothing keeps the Buffster down for long.”

‘Sibling rivalry aside, you obviously look up to her just like I do,’ Xander thought as he watched his lover’s face. ‘And, you’re just as worried about her too.’

“So, G-man’s not here yet, I see,” he said, changing the subject to something a little lighter.

Her smile grew as she answered, “Yeah, I’m sure he wanted to have us here first ... like safety in numbers, huh?”

“Yeah, he’s probably circling the block until he sees one of our cars,” he agreed.

“Yeah,” she sighed, her shoulders slumping just a little. “Okay, I guess we should go in.”

He nodded and squeezed her shoulder slightly before opening his door and exiting the truck.

She jumped out to meet him as he came around the truck. Their hands automatically came together, fingers interlaced, as they walked the path towards the mansion’s front door.

“So what do you think we’re going to do about this amulet thing?” Dawn asked.

“Well, I dunno, Dawn,” Xander answered. “I mean it’s pretty obvious that Willow and Tara can’t go without Buffy — even though the coven’s in Vegas and they don’t have to go all the way to jolly-old — and Giles doesn’t want Buffy to go for whatever reason, so—”

She stopped them just short of the door and turned to face him. “What do you think about us going?” she asked softly.

“Well, yeah,” she said with a smile, apparently amused by his confusion. “I mean, I know I’m not in Willow’s, or even Tara’s class, of course, but I am a witch, and Giles wants a witch to take the amulet thingy—”

‘I never think of you like that,’ Xander pondered. ‘I guess I’d better pull my head out and start.’

“I mean, it’s not like we’ve got plans, or anything,” she continued, apparently taking his silence for dissent.

“Sure,” he said with a shrug. “I don’t have a problem with it. Are you sure you’re okay with going back there? I mean it’s only been a couple months since, well ... you know; badness.”

Her lips drew back into a joyful smile. “Always thinking of me ... God, I love you, sugar!”

Xander answered with a goofy smile of his own, as per usual when she professed her love for him at unexpected moments.

“I had fun there too,” Dawn went on. “I mean, if I let every horrifying, sickening, near-death experience I have affect me, I wouldn’t be able to keep living here in Sunnydale, you know?”

“Okay,” Xander answered. “I mean, if that’s what it takes to solve the problem, I’m cool with us taking the amulet thing to the witches.”

“Let’s try not to have any of those near-death thingies, though — I mean, if we go — okay?” he added, only half-joking.

“Oh yeah,” Dawn nodded emphatically. “See the witches, see the sights, have tons of sex, hold the near-death experiences ... check.”

‘My insatiable little kitten!’ Xander thought happily as they moved together into yet another breath-taking kiss.

“Good Lord!” Giles exclaimed as he pulled to a stop, parking behind the Triad’s van. “You say they were covered in fire-ants?”

“Well, not their whole bodies, just—” Faith began, smirking at the watcher.

“It looks like Dawn and Xander are here already,” Joyce broke in, obviously not wanting Faith to finish her account.

‘Aww, come on, Mrs. S! I coulda had him cleaning his glasses for sure!’ Faith thought, mildly disappointed. ‘I can’t wait to see how the other Scoobies react!’ Aloud, she commented, “Yeah, I can see ’em making out over by the front door.”

Giles muttered something about hormones, while Joyce had a bemused smile on her face.

‘Damn, I think I’m actually happy for them,’ Faith though after a moment. ‘Wonder if that means I’m acting more mature, or if I’m just getting soft and stuff?’

A wicked grin grew on Faith’s face as she opened the car door and quickly, but quietly exited from the back seat of Giles’ BMW and used her slayer skills to sneak up beside the kissing pair. “Hey, this a private party, or can anybody play?” she said loudly.

‘Damn, now that’s fricken funny!’ she thought, bursting out in laughter as the two didn’t even pause in their smoochies but, in unison, each raised a single-finger salute in her direction.

Xander stuck his hands in his pockets and seemed to find something fascinating to look at on the ground at his feet.

“Yes, well ... let’s not dawdle out here any longer, shall we?” Giles muttered, moving forward to ring the doorbell.

‘What’s up with that?’ Faith wondered with a confused frown when Giles then quickly moved back behind everyone else. ‘And why are those two smirking about it?’

The door opened a moment later and Tara gave the group a gentle smile. “Hi, everyone,” she said as she stepped aside to allow them entry.

Faith let everyone else enter before her. ‘Some kind of drama going on here,’ she thought, wondering at the weirdness as she took up the rear and entered the mansion.

Everyone sat, Xander taking the chair with Dawn in his lap, the triad were cuddled up on the loveseat, and Joyce and Giles on one end of the couch. Faith took a seat on the arm of the couch and said, “Okay, so what’s the what? World ending again? I thought we did that just a couple months ago already.”

Buffy sighed loudly and said, “No, not really ... I just kinda freaked out on Giles this afternoon.”

Faith looked sideways at the watcher in question and briefly scrutinized him. “He don’t look beat up.”

“Okay ... huh?” Faith asked, more confused than she’d been moments earlier.

‘That’s some messed up stuff,’ Faith thought after being caught up on the events of the last few days.

“Okay, so let me get this straight,” she said. “B, you lost it on G ’cause he wanted Red and Blondie to take this amulet thing to some other witches to figure out.”

“I dunno,” Buffy sighed. “I just know that the thought of being separated from Willow and Tara for more than an hour or two ... I start feeling all panicky and stuff.”

“I must say,” Giles interjected, sounding both worried and excited. “I’ve never heard of such a response before, outside of some sort of demonic enslavement.”

“And you know what that means!” Xander interrupted with a resigned-sounding voice.

“Anyway,” Faith shook her head a little and returned to her earlier train of thought. “So, you got this mojo necklace-thing off some wannabe master-vamp that thought he was, like, unbreakable or something,” she continued.

“After dusting all *twelve* of his little lackeys,” she finished. ‘Damn, B!’ she added in her thoughts. ‘I’m fricken impressed!’

Everyone else nodded while Buffy corrected, “Well, he had two more, but they went after Willow and Tara.”

Faith’s full-on smirk returned. “I knew it had to be you two, or one of you anyway,”

“I was telling G on the way here,” Faith crowed. “I found these two vamps the other night, staked out to the ground, almost totally naked.”

Faith chuckled and smiled even wider as she saw Tara blush slightly and Willow avoiding her gaze. “Well, they had their crotches covered in fire ants,” she said in an even, conversational tone.

Faith laughed out loud when Xander grunted and clenched his legs together so quickly that Dawn practically bounced in his lap. “Yep, and I couldn’t even put ’em out of their misery or anything ’cause there was this shield blocking me from getting too close.”

Buffy’s head swiveled back and forth between her two witches with a look of incredulity on her face.

“Yes, well,” Giles began in a strained voice. “Perhaps we should move on.”

Faith smirked as the male Scooby shot a wincing look at the giggling girl on his lap.

“Yes, as I was saying,” Giles again started to speak. “I would like to have the amulet transported to the coven, and it would be best if whoever goes be able to interact with them from a like position.”

“And, as I will be required to remain here, what with Quentin’s visit....” Giles trailed off.

“Normally, Faith, I would have every confidence in your abilities,” Giles said in a reassuring voice. “However, I am concerned with what Quentin’s true agenda might be, and am therefore loath to leave you with no ... backup, as it were.”

“On the contrary,” Giles quickly contradicted. “You have proven yourself to be very trustworthy, Faith.”

A tendril of warmth flowed through the dark slayer at the watcher’s heartfelt tone.

“I do not, however, trust Quentin Travers in the slightest,” Giles finished.

“Amen to that!” Xander muttered darkly, drawing everyone’s attention his way.

“We can take it,” Dawn suddenly interjected. “Xan and I can go spend a weekend in Vegas.”

Faith glanced around to see looks of surprise on the other Scoobies’ faces. “I thought it had to be a witch,” she stated questioningly.

“She’s already way ahead of where I was before I started casting with Tara,” Willow offered.

‘Jeez, that shocked him,’ Faith thought at Giles stunned look. ‘Crap, pretty soon Xander’s gonna be the only one I can kick ass on.’

“Her control is very good,” Tara added with a smile. “She seems to have an affinity for fire especially.”

“Giles, it’s perfect.” Buffy quickly interjected. “I mean, it’s not like these witches are dangerous or anything, right?”

“Dawn, honey?” Joyce tentatively asked. “Are you sure you want to go there?”

‘What the heck does that mean?’ Faith wondered. ‘What’s wrong with Vegas? Who wouldn’t want to hang out in friggin’ Party Town, USA?’

‘Maybe she’s worried that there’s still someone after Little Sis and Jeeves.’ Faith thought to herself. ‘After all, that’s where it went down last time.’

‘Okay, now I’m starting to think something else must’ve happened,’ Faith considered at the intense look on Giles face. ‘’Cause, Jeeves looks way too freaked, just like Mrs. S.’

“Yeah, G-man, it’ll be cool,” Xander added. “After all, what could go wrong?”

Giles opened the door, allowing Joyce to precede him into their flat. He let out a small sigh, thinking, ‘She was too silent on the drive back. Clearly, something has disquieted her.’

For all his concern, he couldn’t help but smile as she immediately walked into the kitchen area and began to fill their tea-pot with water.

She set the pot on the stove and clicked it on. “And just what are you smiling at?” she asked after turning a glance his way. From her grin, the annoyance in her voice appeared to be mostly feigned.

She scowled briefly at him before breaking into a chagrined smile. “Well ... it’s soothing. Right now I think coffee would just make me tense.”

He shook his head, still chuckling. “Not you, love. I just recalled a conversation between Xander and myself once ... I said something nearly identical.”

“Hmm,” she said with a more genuine smile as she moved out of the kitchen to press herself against him. “I guess you’ve got me trained,” she purred.

‘Good heavens!’ he thought, feeling his body respond immediately. “Now, that is a decidedly pleasant mental image,” he flirted and then leaned down to softly kiss her.

One soft kiss lead to another and it was only when the teapot began to whistle that he realized how much time had passed.

‘Dear God!’ he thought as he watched her swaying backside. ‘She makes me feel as though I were once again a lad of eighteen!’

He sat down on the couch and watched as she went through the almost ritualistic motions of making tea the British way. ‘She has certainly picked that up rather well,’ he thought with pleasure. ‘I still remember the first time, when she asked where I kept my tea-bags!’

He smiled at the recollection. ‘I was horrified at the very thought! Bloody Americans, only barbarians would put rubbish in little bags and have the cheek to call it tea!’

She handed him his cup and then sat down beside him. Leaning her back up against his chest and right side.

They sat, drinking their tea in silence for a minute before he broached the earlier subject. “You seemed to be a bit unsettled as we returned home, Joyce,” he observed. “Would you care to talk about it?”

She sipped at her tea again for a moment before answering. “I guess I’m just a little bit anxious, Rupert,” she admitted with a sigh.

“I can’t help but think of what happened to us, and the nightmares she’s had because of it,” she explained.

‘Such pain in your voice,’ Giles thought sadly. He gently hugged her with his right arm and then pressed a kiss to the crown of her head. “I don’t know what to say, Joyce, except this: should any danger arise while they’re away, I have every confidence that Xander will protect her with his very life.”

“I’d really rather that she not be in danger in the first place!” she complained. “It’s just so unfair!”

Giles set his tea down and began to stroke his lover’s hair. “Yes, it’s terribly unfair,” he said, trying to keep his voice soothing despite his own turmoil. “Bad enough that the slayer must face the forces of darkness at such a young age ... at least she is given the strength and skill to meet it on an even playing field. Dawn has no such luxury.”

“Is this supposed to be making me feel better?” Joyce asked with a laugh. “Buffy’s right, you do suck at pep-talks.”

“*However,*” he went on, deliberately ignoring her snarkiness though he did smile at it. “She has no dearth of valiant and able protectors, all of whom will and do stand between her and such dangers.”

He pressed another kiss to her head, inhaling the scent of her hair with pleasure. “Also, Dawn is quite able in her own right. She may not be a slayer, but she’s far more capable than any normal sixteen year-old girl.”

“I know, I know,” she sighed. “It’s just ... I’m their mother. It’s my job to protect them, and I can’t!” she growled out.

‘Nothing I say to that will be of any help,’ Giles realized sadly. After a moment he perked up a bit with the thought, ‘However, perhaps I can find a method that doesn’t require words.’

Acting boldly, Giles reached around and took the teacup from her hands, setting it on the table to the side. Then he pulled her up into his lap and began to nuzzle and kiss her neck, his hands stroking up and down her arms.

“Well,” he spoke in a low voice, punctuating each few words with a kiss to her neck, moving toward her ear as he spoke, “As your lover ... one of my duties ... a most pleasant duty at that ... is to ... offer comfort ... when you’re ... distressed.”

He completed his thought by drawing her earlobe into his mouth and suckling it like a baby.

‘Perhaps I should just take charge tonight ... obviate any need for thought on her part,’ he thought with warm caring, accompanied by a thrill of excitement.

Releasing her earlobe, Giles spoke in a low, commanding tone. “Go upstairs, take off all of your clothes and lay down on the bed.”

“Shh,” he immediately interrupted. “Don’t speak, just do it. I want you naked on the bed, legs spread wide and hands holding onto the headboard.”

When she didn’t immediately move, he gently lifted her up, pushing her to a standing position.

She took two steps toward the stairs, and then hesitated, looking back over her shoulder at him with a question in her gaze.

“Go on, I’ll be along in a moment and I expect to find you waiting just as I’ve told you,” he said, quietly but firmly.

His eyes were glued to her mouth as she drew her lower lip into her mouth, biting gently. ‘Good Lord!’ he thought, barely restraining a grunt of lust when she whimpered softly and then fled up the stairs.

‘Good show, old man,’ he thought as he stood up. With a wince as he adjusted the uncomfortable bulge in his trousers he muttered aloud to himself, “Now let’s see if you can live up to the promise!”

Giles avoided meeting Joyce’s gaze as he puttered around the loft. He searched through the closet, thinking, ‘Something long and strong for her hands ... something opaque for her eyes. Yes, these will do quite nicely.’

Turning back to the bed he paused for a moment to savor. “Absolutely lovely!” he sighed aloud. He then proceeded to use one scarf to tie her hands to the headboard, and the other he wrapped around her head and tied off to the side, blindfolding her.

She was trembling slightly as he reached out to touch her, stroking her from crotch to throat with a possessive touch.

He immediately stilled her lips with a deep kiss. Once he’d pulled back, he instructed, “Don’t speak, don’t think; just enjoy, my love.”

Standing upright, he began to disrobe. Almost as an after thought, he added, “Oh, do of course feel free to cry or scream, if the mood should strike you.”

‘Oh yes, this is precisely what I had hoped for!’ he thought eagerly as he moved down to lie between her legs. With the first lick, her resulting groan was echoed by him. ‘Warm, slick ... her scent! How did I ever live without this in my life for so long?’ he wondered as he suckled her in earnest. ‘Living ... more likely simply existing. Yes, we may very well have saved the world numerous times, but it’s this — loving someone, pleasuring them and being pleasured in return — this is why the world is worth saving at all!’

Soon, Joyce’s hips were thrusting up, pushing her increasingly sloppy sex into his face. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, pushing down with his hands to keep her still while he sucked hard on her clit, lashing it with his tongue as he strove to drive her over the edge for the first of many times this night.

She cried out wordlessly as her climax struck, and now he introduced three fingers up into her clenching sex, not letting up on her clit as he pushed her toward an even higher plateau of bliss.

“Rupert!” She shrieked, her hands straining at their bonds while her whole body jerked and spasmed. “Holy God!”

“Yes, yes, yes, oh Rupert, yes!” she shouted out loud, mere minutes later. Then with another wordless scream she came again, squeezing his fingers almost to the point of pain.

“Third time lucky!” he growled with a giant smile as he scrambled up to impale his turgid cock with one hard thrust.

Her scream cut off with a choking gasp as he set a spirited pace. He cut off any further vocalization with a deep, fiery kiss as he drove himself into her again and again.

“Dear God in Heaven, you are magnificent!” he grated out through clenched teeth when he felt his own release approaching. Joyce was either on her third, or her second had never truly abated as he felt her continuous throttlehold on his cock.

With a strangled cry, he came, his whole body clenching and his fast rhythm degenerating into a series of twitches and jerks.

After what felt like an eternity of rapture, he fell to the side, rolling her with him in order to remain buried within her as much as possible. He rested his forehead against hers, still covered by the scarf, and smiled broadly as he heard her panting, “Oh God! Oh God!” again and again.

‘God, Dawn, you’re killing me!’ Xander thought, not for the first time that night. She was shamelessly rubbing her ass against his crotch as they writhed among the sea of dancing bodies at the Bronze.

As the song wound down, she turned in his arms and pulled his head down for a quick kiss.

“Get some drinks, sugar, I’ll be right back,” she breathed into his ear after the song ended.

“Drinks, right,” Xander muttered hoarsely. ‘As soon as I can walk again!’ he added sardonically to himself while she walked away from him towards the ladies’ room. He slowly made his way to the bar, wincing slightly with each step as his trapped erection strained against the material of his jeans.

“Something’s gotta be wrong with me,” he groused while waiting for the bartender to work her way toward him. “I have no fricken control lately!”

As he worked his way back to the booth, he saw Dawn standing there, waiting for him with a smirk on her face and her hands behind her back. He groaned softly as his eyes took in her sexy outfit: pleated black miniskirt and midriff baring halter top. ‘Mmm, so much bare flesh; no wonder I have no control!’ he thought lustily.

“What?” he asked warily as he set the drinks down and notice her smirk growing larger.

Heart racing, he did as he was told. ‘I think I’m in trouble,’ he thought not unhappily.

She boldly straddled his lap, eliciting a growl from deep inside him. She moved her hands from behind her back and slid the left behind his head and into his hair. The right, she brought up to his face and opened up right before his nose.

“Holy mother of God!” he gasped as the unmistakable scent hit him. A quick glance confirmed things, “You took off your panties?”

She nodded and said, “They’re soaked, sugar! You got me so worked up out there ... I have to have you, Xander. Right. Now.”

“No one will know, sugar,” she reassured him even as her left hand moved down his body, dropping the fragrant garment to the seat beside him and tracing her fingers over his zipper. “I already cast that same glamour I used in the car that time.”

“No one will see us speeding?” he blurted out, confused and distracted by her roving hand.

She giggled. “No one will see anything out of the ordinary,” she moaned softly, making the statement sound like the filthiest pillow-talk.

‘We can’t! We’ll get caught for sure! Arrested even!’ his mind protested even as he was nodding his head in agreement.

She smiled broadly and wasted no time unbuttoning and unzipping him. He whimpered like a little puppy as she pulled his already nearly erect cock out into the open. ‘This is so very wrong!’ his mind continued to protest. His face flushed hot as his libido clearly cast it’s vote in favor of the proceedings.

“God, sugar, you make me so damn hot!” Dawn growled, quickly spinning around to face away from him and then sinking herself down onto his lap.

“Ungh!” he grunted as he felt himself bottoming out deep inside his lover. “So damn good!”

“So full!” she gasped, her head falling back onto his shoulder. “Sugar, I love the way you fill me up!”

Fully on board now, Xander ignored the rest of the surroundings and concentrated on Dawn. He grabbed her waist and held her still as he slowly and deliberately pumped himself up into her wet heat.

After a couple minutes of blissful agony, Xander was startled out of his fugue state by Buffy’s chirpy voice. “Hey guys, you finally get tired of dancing?”

‘Holy crap!’ Xander thought, icy fear running through him as he froze still.

“Yeah, time to sit down and relax for a while,” Dawn said with only a slight tremor in her voice.

“Mmmhmm,” Buffy hummed in agreement. “I wanted to watch them for a while,” she said, nodding her head toward the dance floor. Xander looked to see the two senior witches writhing together.

“Yeah, they look pretty hot out there!” Dawn agreed, simultaneously squeezing Xander’s flagging erection inside her and then grinding her ass into his crotch. He couldn’t help but whimper in response.

“Hey!” Buffy protested half-jokingly. “You two keep your dirty thoughts off of my girls!”

‘I’m so dead!’ Xander thought, thumping his head on the wall behind him as he felt his cock swell instantly back to full rigidity.

“Don’t worry, Buff!” Dawn said, rising up several inches and then dropping herself back down to fully envelop him again. “I’ve got what I want right here between my legs!”

“Eww, Dawn!” Buffy protested, no kidding in her tone this time. “I so didn’t need to hear that!”

‘Holy God in Heaven!’ Xander thought, aroused and embarrassed all at once. ‘This is so, *so* wrong! And I don’t think I’ve ever been hornier in my life!’

‘I’m definitely a goner ... but what a way to go!’ Xander thought with another strangled groan.

As the song came to an end, Tara began to pull her witchy lover off of the dance floor. ‘Need to cool down a little,’ she thought.

“Mmm, you’re all flushed and sweaty!” Willow growled in her ear, pressing against her back and moving in lock step as they moved toward their table.

“Goddess I love the taste of you, Tara!” Willow said low and hot in the blonde’s ear. “Makes me want to crawl under that table and eat you till you scream!”

“Willow!” Tara admonished softly, the mental image filling her with lust. ‘This is not helping me cool down!’ she thought, her exasperation heavily tempered with desire.

‘Oh, that was sincere!’ Tara thought sarcastically, a smile nevertheless coming to life on her face.

“You’re just so darned hot! I can’t help myself,” Willow continued, her voice clearly unrepentant.

As they approached the table, Tara locked eyes with her other lover and saw an equal amount of desire there. ‘Goddess, I hope we at least make it to the van before they ravish me!’ she thought, any lingering aggravation melting completely away by the sexual heat both her lovers were broadcasting.

Willow moved to take up a space next to Buffy. ‘Practically *on* Buffy!’ Tara thought indulgently. “So beautiful!” she whispered at the sight of her lovers kissing passionately.

Her eyes moved to the table’s other occupants briefly. “Hi guys,” she said perfunctorily before her attention snapped back to her girls.

“Mmm, sexy girls!” she growled, sitting to snuggle up against Willow, while reaching around to stroke various bits of Buffy’s barely-covered flesh.

“Hmm, that’s funny,” Willow muttered, causing Tara to pull back and look directly at her.

‘Funny? Not what I was going for,’ Tara thought, slightly disgruntled. ‘What’s she looking at?’ she wondered, taking in the redhead’s focus on the couple across from them.

Tara cast another brief glance at Dawn and Xander before her eyes once again focused on Willow’s face. “What?” she asked softly.

Willow’s eyes suddenly widened and she made a surprised gasp. “Glamour!” she whispered.

Tara once again turned to look at the couple across from her. “I don’t see,” she began, her attention immediately returning to the redhead. Then it struck her. ‘She’s right!’ she realized. She forced herself to focus on Dawn and Xander and pushed through the glamour’s effect on her.

‘This is so naughty!’ Dawn thought, incredible heat pouring through her as she made love to Xander right in front of her sister and fellow witches. ‘I’m a bad, bad girl! Oh, but it feels so damn good!’ she thought, the embarrassment making her that much hotter.

More shame and lust flowed through her as she watched the three women across from her grope and kiss one another. ‘Seeing this shouldn’t be turning me on even more — oh, who am I kidding?’ she tacitly admitted to herself.

Her eyes remaining on the trio before her, she leaned back to whisper to Xander, “God, you’re so fricken huge inside me, sugar! I feel like I could split right in two!”

His verbal response was a low growl. His fingers were more articulate, as she felt his hand move down from her waist and then back up under her short skirt to manipulate her clit.

‘So busted!’ she thought, even more shame, embarrassment and lust pouring through her.

“You’re soaking wet, Dawn!” Xander’s voice continued, low and filled with excitement.

‘Oh, I’m gonna explode!’ she thought, feeling her orgasm build to epic proportions.

Just then, Willow’s gasp refocused Dawn’s attention. Meeting the redhead’s eyes, she knew. ‘She sees us!’

Willow moaned loudly and Dawn felt herself shatter. “Xander!” She squealed, silence impossible as her whole body shook with release.

“Love you!” he grunted and she could feel him spurting powerfully inside her.

Post-coital bliss made Dawn feel like a limp noodle as her body collapsed and molded itself against her lover.

She couldn’t help but chuckle weakly as Tara’s voice took on full dominance. “Van! Now!” she commanded.

“Goddess, yes!” Willow grunted, practically leaping from her seat, her eyes still locked on Dawn’s.

“Wow, what’s got into you two?” Buffy asked almost innocently, appearing slightly embarrassed at her lover’s brazenness. Nevertheless, she quickly followed, tossing a perfunctory “See ya!” over her shoulder as she left.

“We’re so busted!” Dawn pouted. ‘Not sorry we did it, only that we got caught,’ she qualified silently.

“Good!” he growled. “I think that was the most erotic thing I’ve ever experienced in my life, Dawn!”

“Huh?” she asked confused. “Oh!” she grunted as he let his body clarify the statement, thrusting back up into her strongly once again.

“Love you, kitten!” he growled as their bodies made wet, slapping noises with each meeting. “So damn much!”

“Yes, sugar, Yes!” Dawn cried softly in response, ignoring the crowd and focusing her attention completely on her love.

‘She was looking right at me!’ Willow’s mind was stuck on the image of Dawn as she came, staring right into her own eyes.

The slamming of the van’s door shook her out of her stupor, but did nothing to calm her lust as she looked into Tara’s eyes. ‘Goddess, she’s just as turned on by it as I am!’

“Slayer, I need you!” Tara growled, quickly shucking her skirt and panties at the same time. She didn’t even bother to remove her top, but immediately lay down and spread her legs open.

“Mmm, naked Buffy!” Willow thought hungrily, noticing that the slayer had managed to disrobe entirely before Tara had fully settled.

“Yes, Mistress!” Buffy answered Tara’s command, obviously getting into the spirit of things even if she didn’t necessarily understand why. Within seconds, the petite blonde was noisily eating out her mistress.

‘I love being us!’ the happy thought popped into Willow’s mind as she too began to get out of her clothes.

“Sweetie, why don’t you park yourself right here and let me taste that Willowy goodness?” Tara said seductively, tapping a finger at her lips to indicate where she wanted the redhead. “Oh, and I’m sure Buffy will let you cum right after she makes me cum; right, Slayer?”

“Oh, thank you, Milady! Thank you, Mistress!” Willow gushed eagerly as she moved to straddle her lover’s face. She let out a small squeal of delight as Tara reached around her legs and roughly jerked her down to meet her mouth.

“Beautiful!” Willow sighed at the vision before her, Buffy enthusiastically licking and sucking Tara’s shiny/wet pussy. The blonde witch’s eager tongue against her own soaked sex was equally enthralling.

After a few minutes of fervent cunnilingus, Willow’s eyes slipped shut, despite the riveting view. ‘I can’t believe how hot Dawn looked,’ the thought came unbidden, though not entirely unwelcome. ‘So passionate, and so wanton! Even with the glamour ... to do it right there in the Bronze!’

She felt her orgasm threatening to erupt and her eyes snapped open in horror. She viciously clamped down on her body’s desire to cum, thinking, ‘Goddess, I almost ... and before Tara! What’s wrong with me?’

Fortunately, it wasn’t long before Tara began to buck and scream against Willow’s pussy and the redhead immediately came with a wordless cry. ‘Oh I’m such a bad pet!’ she thought with shame and lust combined. ‘Naughty thoughts of my mistress’s sister making me lose control like that! Thank the Goddess that they didn’t decide to make me wait until after Buffy ... I would be in *so* much trouble!’

“Mistress, may I?” she panted, eager with both lust and guilt to service the slayer.

“God, yes!” Buffy nearly shouted, flipping like a gymnast to go from lying on her stomach to reclining on her elbows, knees spread incredibly wide in preparation.

‘One Buffy-rocket-to-paradise coming up!’ she thought as she crawled over Tara’s body to reach her mistress.

“Mmm!” she hummed loudly against her lover as she began to plow her tongue along Buffy’s furrowed flesh. ‘Love this! Love you, Mistress!’ she thought happily.

Not long after she’d begun to work on her mistress, Willow was startled by the sudden burst of pain on her left butt-cheek.

“Your pet’s been a very naughty girl, Slayer!” Tara’s voice was just loud enough for Willow to make out.

‘Oh yes, very naughty,’ Willow thought with relief and excitement as Tara continues to spank her ass hard. Any thoughts of lusting after Dawn washed away as Willow lost herself in the combined sensation of receiving her just punishment while servicing her mistress.

‘Yours, yours. I’m yours, I’m yours, I’m yours,’ her mind chanted as her consciousness slipped away into subspace.

‘Mmm, yes ... this part is the part I love so very much!’ Willow thought as she became aware of her surroundings. “Nestled between two sexy blondes!” she mumbled with a wide smile.

“Welcome back, Willow,” Buffy whispered softly in her ear while on the other side of her Tara’s chuckles elicited warm feelings.

“Mmm, love you, Mistress Buffy; love you, Milady Tara!” she crooned joyfully.

They lay silently in bliss for only a moment before Buffy asked, “Now — not that I ever mind making love to you two — but can somebody tell me why we suddenly ran out on Dawn and Xander like that?”

“Van’s still here,” Xander noted as he and Dawn walked across the parking lot toward his SUV.

“Uh huh, just be glad Buffy couldn’t see past your spell!” Xander chided, though he was unable to entirely keep the grin off of his face.

They were just closing the doors to the Yukon when the relative quiet in the parking lot was suddenly pierced by an outraged shout.

“Oh yeah,” Dawn interjected. “Time to leave, as in right now!” she added urgently.

“Good plan!” Xander agreed, starting the engine, dropping the transmission into gear and flooring it.

The truck surged up over the concrete parking blocks and down over the curb onto the street.

“That was close. Good thing we took your truck!” Dawn said as they accelerated down the street.

‘And I thought this was gonna be easy,’ he mused, following his quarry’s GMC Yukon sport-utility vehicle as it turned off into the access road to Sunnydale International Airport.

‘I could still do it, easy enough ... if I didn’t care about getting caught,’ he thought sardonically.

He followed on, fuming and planning as he went. ‘Maybe they’re just picking up somebody ... I don’t care if there’s extras, just don’t be getting on a damn plane!’

“Son of a bitch!” he cursed aloud as the Yukon pulled onto the ‘departures’ ramp and into airport parking.

‘I could just do the other one first ... wait till she comes back,’ he considered for a moment. ‘Damn but I hate having to break off!’

He growled aloud as he came to a decision. ‘No; screw it. I’m gonna get this little bitch and I don’t care if I gotta chase her across the entire country to do it!’

He quickly found a parking spot and gave a sad look toward his toolbox. ‘Damn but I hate having to leave that behind!’ he thought in annoyance. Shaking his head, he climbed up out of his black Cadillac DeVille and hurried toward the entrance so he could reacquire his target without having to follow her across the lot.

As his target and her boyfriend went to the United counter, he faded into line a few spots behind them. ‘Yeah, feel the jazz,’ he thought as he tested his skill by maintaining proximity to his target without being detected.

When they finally made it to the counter, he perked up a bit. ‘Vegas, huh? This might not be too bad after all!’

‘Crap, I hate this!’ Faith thought with a sigh as she stared at the wall in the darkened bedroom. ‘Good thing I don’t need much sleep, ’cause I got a feeling I ain’t gettin’ any tonight!’

Even the feeling of her lover Beth spooned against her back — normally very soothing — wasn’t enough to make her relax.

Slowly, so as not to disturb those who were able to sleep, Faith moved over and up out of the bed. She walked toward the bathroom, kicking the crumpled clothing on the floor over and into the hamper as she went. The act brought a smile to her face as she remembered how it got there, ‘Damn, she was eager tonight! She’s so fricken hot when she gets like that ... ripping the clothes off my body like a freaking mad-woman. I mean, I’ve had guys do that, but it was always ’cause they couldn’t wait to get their dick in me; she couldn’t wait to eat me out till I was screaming her name like a damn banshee wail!’

She closed the bathroom door behind her before flicking on the lights. ‘Alex made it even hotter: just standing there, stroking that big dick of his and watching us like a starving man standing at the friggin’ all-you-can-eat buffet!’

“You are one lucky bitch!” she whispered to herself, smiling at her reflection and stroking the line of already fading hickeys that went down her neck and onto her breasts. Even the voice of negativity — that dark specter that always used to mutter scornfully in the back of her mind — couldn’t contradict that statement.

Still, her smile faded as the reminiscence about her lovers was replaced by thoughts of current and upcoming events. She sat down to empty her bladder as the darker musings ran through her mind.

‘Today I get to face watcher-man ... the one that sent those guys to kill me the first time,’ she thought with some trepidation. ‘Of course, it was B that had to deal with them the first, first time, when I pulled that stupid body-switch crap.’

‘She was there when they tried to shoot me on the roof ... saved my life, even.’ She deliberately skipped past the memories that followed, of her going to prison, and focused on more recent events. ‘B stopped the last time too. Sent me off to Vegas to pick up Little Sis while she dealt with them for me.’

She sighed again, then finished her business and went back to the bedroom. Being the slayer, her vision instantly adjusted to the darkness and she stood for several moments, looking at her sleeping lovers. “Damn, they’re so ... beautiful,” she whispered softly, feeling uncomfortable with the sentiment but unable to come up with anything else that could describe the scene before her.

Desire to return to the bed warred with certainty that she wouldn’t be able to sleep as she stood there watching them slumber. After a minute of uncertainty she walked over to the hamper and grabbed a pair of Alex’s boxer-shorts and slipped them on. ‘Screw it. I’ll go find something to eat or something,’ she decided.

The sound of the French doors clicking open didn’t startle Faith. ‘Gotta love that slayer hearing,’ she thought, having heard her girlfriend’s footsteps through the living room in the stillness of the early morning.

She was reclining on one of the deck’s padded loungers, the bright moonlight giving her nearly nude body an ethereal glow.

“Faithy?” Beth’s voice was soft and filled with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Mmm, but I missed my favorite body pillow!” Beth whined, giving an exaggerated pout. She immediately rectified the situation by climbing onto Faith, straddling her pelvis and lying against the slayer’s ample chest.

Faith couldn’t help but grin at her lover’s behavior. ‘I’m never inviting the Scoobs over here; they’d never let me live it down when they saw what a freakin’ softie I’ve turned into!’ she thought as her arms automatically wrapped around the slightly smaller brunette.

“Alex still sleeping?” Faith softly asked. She could feel Beth’s lips pulling into a grin against her skin as she answered.

“Yeah, that guy can sleep through just about anything,” Faith answered with a little laugh of her own.

“Mmm,” Beth agreed. “But, we know how to wake him up, don’t we?” she asked with a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Faith’s collarbone.

“Well, there’s got to be a reason it’s hard in the morning, right?” Beth asked with a wicked tone to her voice.

They settled into silence for several minutes before Beth quietly asked, “You worried about your meeting today?”

“No ... I dunno,” Faith backed down from her knee-jerk denial. “I guess ... I just never had to deal with the watchers before ... not really. I mean, there was that one time with Wes, but that was no big,” she started to explain.

“What do you mean?” Beth asked softly, nuzzling Faith’s shoulder with her cheek.

Beth gave her a moment to continue on her own before prompting, “In your place?”

“Okay, see, I ... when I woke up from that coma, I uh ... I kinda did this body-switch thing,” she flushed with shame and embarrassment at the memory.

“What do you mean?” Beth asked in a quiet, even voice, continuing with the calming kisses.

“The mayor ... he left me this tape and this magic thing ... I was really messed up, and still way pissed at B — all the Scoobies, really.” She hastily rubbed away the tear that was threatening to fall from her right eye. “So anyway, this magic thing made it so I could, um, swap places with B. It’s like I was in her body, and she got stuck in mine.”

‘Thank you!’ she thought fervently when Beth didn’t press for details of the event.

“So, the watchers came after me, but B got stuck dealing with them ’cause she was ... you know....”

“Yeah.” Faith hugged Beth tightly too her, thinking, ‘How did I get so damn lucky?’

“Then, in LA, they came again, and even though me and B were having this screaming match and I figured she was about to beat me down....” She trailed off again, thinking, ‘I would have welcomed it, too.’

“She saved me, threw me down and covered me with her own body when the bullets started to fly,” she continued the story.

“You weren’t kidding when you said things were complicated between you two,” Beth whispered.

Faith was shocked when Beth grabbed her by the chin and turned her face till their gazes locked.

“Stop it! Quit worrying about making me jealous of Buffy.” Beth demanded. “You’re here, I’m here, Alex is here — well in the bedroom — but you know what I mean!”

Astonished, all Faith could do was laugh at the intensity with which her lover babbled that last part.

“Better,” Beth allowed with a smile of her own. “You’ve got to stop beating yourself up, thinking you’re hurting me!”

“Yes, I am amazing, and yes, you’re very lucky to have me,” Beth said with a teasing smile. “Now, back to the subject.”

‘I am so going to make you cum screaming my name later!’ Faith vowed to herself.

“Yeah, so ... that was that time, and then a few months ago, right before I met you and Alex, they tried again.” Faith continued. “G-man found out the watchers were sending another hit team to take me back to Jolly Old for a trial and pretty sure to be followed by execution.”

She could feel Beth’s whole body shudder against her own, and she rubbed her hands up and down over her back, trying to reassure her. “B and the gang were all over it. Sent me and X-man to Vegas to pick up G-man, Mrs. S, and Little — uh, I mean, Dawn while they put the smack-down on the British Invasion.”

Faith didn’t say anything for several moments before sighing deeply. “I dunno, Bethy,” she whispered. “There’s something wrong with B,” she said with a wince. ‘Crap, I actually said it,’ she thought, as though verbalizing it made it that much more true.

“I don’t really know how it happened, but ... she freaked out on Giles the other day and the only reason was ’cause he wanted the witches to take this amulet thing back to England so some more witches could look at it,” she blurted out all at once.

“Yeah, like screaming, crying, ‘ripping his door off the hinges and running home to her witches’ freaking out,” Faith explained.

“You’re kidding!” Beth immediately protested, her head snapping up to look Faith in the face.

Faith chuckled. “Not sure. G-man’s gonna research it. He said something about a mega-case of separation anxiety, or something like that.”

“So, she became upset at the thought of being separated from Willow and Tara?” Beth sought clarification.

“You think B’s gonna let Giles send her witches away if she doesn’t want them to go?” She laughed somewhat sardonically.

“I take it that’s a ‘no’?” Beth asked with an answering smile, then laid her head back down on Faith’s shoulder.

Her lover’s hand began to move up her side, causing Faith to hum softly with pleasure. She did, however, continue the line of discussion as she added, “Trust me, if stuff ain’t goin’ B’s way, it’s time to fricken duck and cover, ’cause it’s about to hit the fan.”

“She gets her way a lot, I take it?” Beth said, her voice carrying her smile.

“Ha!” Faith grunted. “That ain’t the half of it. B gets whatever B wants, and no one gets to tell her different.”

“Well, except now Blondie gets to tell her what to do ... mostly in the bedroom though....” She trailed off thoughtfully.

“Yeah, I ... I guess I was just letting it get to me,” Faith realized. “Maybe I was making it a bigger deal in my head than it really was.”

“Always glad to help, Faithy,” Beth said breathily, her hand moving to ‘accidentally’ caress the side of the slayer’s breast.

‘Mmm, ’bout done talking I think,’ Faith concluded with a happy grin. Then she sobered for a moment. ‘I should tell her, or I could just show her. No; tell her. She deserves it, right?’

She leaned back and lifted Beth’s face up to meet her gaze. Staring for a moment while she gathered her courage, she finally whispered, “You do — I mean, you did ... you know?”

With that, Faith utilized her superhuman strength to lift Beth up and twist them both around so that Beth was on her back with Faith sliding down her tee shirt clad body towards her goal. ‘Jeez!’ she thought in amazement. ‘My mouth is fricken watering just thinkin’ ’bout licking your sweet pussy!’

Reaching the hem of the long shirt, Faith pushed it upward while kissing and then licking the insides of Beth’s thighs.

‘No panties,’ Faith thought with a grin as she reached the apex of Beth’s thighs. ‘Girl after my own heart!’

Unabashedly, Beth reached down and yanked the hem of her shirt up and over her head, apparently not caring that it was still over her arms and therefore bunched up behind her neck. She opened her legs wide and then swung them upward at the same time as she pulled her torso forward like a stomach crunch. In an incredibly gymnastic feat, the lithe little brunette’s legs locked in behind her shoulders, stretching back as she straightened her body out, leaving her limber body bent in half at the waist and her glistening vulva open and jutting upward toward Faith’s face.

“Eat me, Faithy! Make me scream!” Beth demanded, grabbing the slayer by her hair and pulling her sharply down against her slick flesh.

“Yes, ma’am!” Faith grunted, her voice muffled by Beth’s wet sex. Immediately, the slayer delved downward into her lover’s body with her long, strong tongue. Her mouth and nose mashed against her lover’s lips and clit as she vigorously moved her head in random circles while seeking out that special spot with her tongue.

Another blessing of Faith’s supernatural calling was the ability to hold her breath comfortably for several minutes. She utilized this gift to bestow uninterrupted pleasure within her lover and within three or four minutes Beth’s request was fulfilled.

‘That’ll wake up the neighbors!’ Faith thought happily, hearing her name being shrieked aloud.

Faith smiled against her lover’s tasty pussy at the sound of her other lover’s sardonic voice. She pulled away, just for a moment to breathe, and shot a quick glance his way.

‘Mmm, a guy after my own heart too,’ she thought, seeing him standing there, buck-naked and hard as a rock.

“We’re kinda busy right now, stud; why don’t you park that thing in the back?” she nodded toward his cock and gestured with her thumb toward her own backside. She didn’t wait to see his reaction, but immediately turned back toward Beth’s wide-open sex and began to strongly suck her swollen clit.

The slayer moaned as Alex followed her instructions, yanking his ‘borrowed’ boxer shorts down her hips and stroking a finger along her own wetness. ‘Crap, like I wouldn’t be wet and ready, sucking this hot pussy!’ she thought, her impatience overwhelming any appreciation of his thoughtfulness.

She didn’t have long to wait, though. She felt his head against her lips, his hands on her hips, and then his thrust as he shoved his big dick deep inside her.

‘Oh yeah!’ Faith thought hungrily, pushing her ass back to meet his thrusts with a hard slap of flesh.

‘What?’ she was confused when, after a couple thrusts, he pulled out, leaving her feeling achingly empty.

Before she could ask the question, she again felt the swollen head her boyfriend’s cock ... this time, knocking on her back door.

‘Oh, hell yeah!’ she thought, crying out wordlessly as he drove deep inside her tight asshole. She redoubled her efforts to drive Beth to her second orgasm, moving one hand to pinch and tug on her puckered nipples; the other, she slid under her chin, slipping two fingers into Beth to rub on the spot where her tongue had recently held sway.

“Oh God, Faith!” Beth grunted through clenched teeth as her body tensed under Faith’s ministrations.

Soon Beth was screaming again and Faith began to shudder in the throes of her own orgasm. Her pleasure was trebled as Alex bellowed her name into the night air, his warmth flooding her bowels.

‘Damn, sometimes it *is* good to be me!’ she mused happily; her worries about watchers and other slayers overshadowed for now.

“Mmm, gotta love first class!” Dawn whispered with a sigh as the plane rose into the air. ‘Maybe we really were worried for nothing,’ she thought, feeling her body relax as they moved into the relative safety of the sky. ‘Now all we have to do is not crash!’

“Oh yeah,” Xander agreed to her spoken comment. “It almost makes me wish this was a longer flight!”

‘Yeah, that’s right ... short flight, I’m gonna have to work fast,’ she thought with a secretive smile.

“That smile,” he said with a look of trepidation. “What kind of scheme is running through that dangerous mind now?”

If anything, her grin widened. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” Dawn said, lying through her teeth. “I think you’re just being suspicious today,” she added dismissively.

Dawn didn’t deign to answer that. She sat back and watched the ground recede through the window.

Immediately after the plane leveled out and the seat-belt light went out, she looked around to see if anyone else was making a bee-line to the toilet. When no-one did, she leaned over to nudge Xander, “Xan?”

‘Man, oh man!’ Xander thought to himself nervously. ‘I can’t believe I’m about to have sex in a freaking airplane bathroom!’

‘She’s definitely gonna be the death of me,’ he mused, shaking his head. Just then, the door opened and she squeezed in, pressing up against him as she closed it behind her. The smile on her face bespoke both excitement and hunger.

“God, Xan!” she huffed out excitedly. She reached behind his neck an pulled his head down for a kiss, muttering, “I got so wet thinking of doing this!”

“Mmph!” he whimpered against her mouth. His whimper turned into a groan as her hands found his zipper, opening it and reaching in to grasp his cock through the material of his boxer shorts. A slight wince as she worked his stiffened prick out of his fly, then a heartfelt sigh as she began to gently stroke him.

“Oh yeah!” he growled, lust overwhelming any lingering reticence as he lifted her up to sit on the edge of the tiny sink area. “Gah! You’re soaked!” he cried softly as he pulled her panties aside.

His own eyes slipped shut for a moment as she guided him into her. “Nothing better!” he sighed as he sank himself all the way inside of her slick, warm sex.

His eyes opened and he focused on her gaze as he answered seriously, “Nothing better than being inside you!”

Knowing this was going to have to be a quickie, Xander kept his movements short and fast. He curled his fingers under her panties and held them farther aside, using his thumb to briskly rub her stiff little clit, causing her to groan aloud.

“Almost there, Dawn!” he whimpered when he felt himself getting close not a minute later.

“Oh, God, me too!” she squeaked, her hips twitching and slapping against him.

“Did you ... cast that ... glamour?” he huffed out as her cries grew louder.

A rush of excitement, embarrassment and lust shot through him and he nearly shouted her name, his rebuke transitioning into a cry of orgasm half-way through.

She took a few seconds more, panting out, “Yes ... yes ... yes!” Then, “Xander!” she grunted out his name through clenched teeth.

“Wow!” Dawn whispered with a broad smile. “Welcome to the Mile-High Club. Yay us!”

Xander smiled back, torn between amazement, pleasure, and embarrassment. “You know, there’s no way everybody out there didn’t hear us!” he admonished gently.

“Good!” Dawn quipped unrepentantly. “I want everyone to know that you belong to me, especially that vapid, blonde stewardess!”

She smiled warmly at him, “Do you have any idea how much I love you?” she asked, seemingly out of the blue.

“Huh? I mean, me too — I love you too — but huh?” he babbled, confused by the course of conversation.

She shook her head, continuing to smile widely. “She’s been looking at you like an afternoon snack ever since we got seated ... and you didn’t even notice.”

She gently stroked his cheek and then placed a chaste kiss on his lips. “No, Xan. Don’t be sorry, it’s just one more thing that makes me completely crazy about you.”

“I’m ... not sure I understand,” he said hesitantly. ‘I feel like I’m tip-toeing through a minefield sometimes,’ he added in his thoughts.

“And that’s what makes it perfect. It’s not something you try to do, you just do it.”

“Now, you go sit down, I’ve got a mess to clean up before I go back out,” she said.

‘Holy crap!’ he thought as she boldly reached down between her legs and scooped up some of their combined essence on her fingers. She brought up the sticky digits between them, and then slowly, deliberately licked them clean, like a cat cleaning it’s paw.

“You’re killing me, Dawn!” he groaned, hastily tucking his dick into his pants, wincing slightly at the wetness of it against his leg.

“Right,” he said, reaching behind him in the cramped space and working the door open. He slipped out and quickly closed it and turned around to return to his seat.

‘D’oh! So busted,’ he thought, blushing furiously as the two stewardesses in the first class section were standing across the service space, staring at him.

The younger one, bleach-blonde and showing lots of cleavage was glaring at him angrily, while the other, a graceful-looking middle-aged woman was actually smiling at him with a knowing twinkle in her eye.

“Excuse me,” he whispered hoarsely. He moved past them, clearing his suddenly dry throat and then re-entered the cabin space. His embarrassed blush dissipated not a whit as he noted that every eye in first class was focused on him.

Looking down at his feet, he shuffled his way back to his seat. ‘Couldn’t cast the damn glamour?’ he thought exasperatedly. ‘We’re gonna have to talk about this exhibitionist streak you’re developing, Dawn!’

As he reached his row, he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself, ‘Yeah, right. Like you really hate it that she can’t keep her hands off of you, Xan!’

His eyes raised to the seats across the aisle from him and saw an older couple there, the woman looking at him scornfully, but her husband behind her winking and giving him a surreptitious thumbs-up before quickly composing himself when his wife turned back.

He focused back on the front of the cabin, ignoring any faces that might be turned his way, as he waited for Dawn to reappear.

He could just see the blonde stewardess standing there, glaring at the door as though lying in wait.

‘Oh boy, she’d better behave or Dawn’s gonna kick her ass right here on the plane!’ he thought, worried images of and in-flight altercation filling his brain.

Then Dawn exited the restroom. ‘Holy friggin’ cow, she looks sexy!’ the thought smacked his worries away. ‘Yet again, it was so worth it!’

Immediately he could see that Dawn noticed the agitated blonde. ‘Here it comes!’ he thought.

Dawn slowly licked her lips, staring right at the stewardess, and then spoke too softly for him to hear, though he thought he could read her lips, ‘Did she just say “Yummy”?’ he mentally squawked.

Whatever it was, it had a noticeable effect on the blonde, as her jaw dropped in astonishment. Before she could make any other reaction, Dawn flipped her hair and walked away from the stewardess, her contempt for the bleached blonde clear to everyone that might be watching.

The other stewardess’s laughter rang out loud. ‘Thank God for that!’ he thought as the blonde stewardess whipped around to whisperingly berate her co-worker, removing her attention from Dawn.

The brunette in question ignored anyone else’s stares and walked — practically pranced — down the aisle, head held high with a superior smile on her face.

She took her seat next to him and immediately snuggled against him. “I don’t know which I like better, sugar bear,” she whispered.

“Mmm, I don’t know if it’s the way you feel in me ... or the way you taste in me,” she practically purred in his ear.

His whole body shuddered and his cock actually twitched in his pants, becoming partially erect. “Thank God this is a short flight!” he muttered as she giggled at him once again.

“Hey, baby,” Willow replied as Tara wrapped her arms around the redhead’s tummy.

“Mmm,” Willow hummed, saucily pushing her ass up against the taller witch behind her. “I’m making chicken salad, and there’s grapes, and plums, and I’m gonna slice up some nectarines to go with.”

“Yummy,” Tara said happily, placing a kiss on her lover’s neck. “And maybe a little Willow cream for desert?” she whispered in Willow’s ear.

Tara giggled and released her lover to go back to her preparations. “Where’s Buffy?” she asked, not seeing her other lover in the area.

“She went out on the patio,” Willow explained. “I’m not sure ... I mean, she says nothing’s wrong, but you know Buffy,”

“Being ‘little miss mopey slayer’ again, is she?” Tara asked with hands on her hips and a slight frown on her lips.

“I think she’s still a little bit upset about the whole ‘freaking out’ thing the other day,” Willow postulated.

“Since she doesn’t want to talk to me about it, maybe her mistress can help her out?” Willow suggested.

Tara giggled. “You’re so smart, sweetie,” she laughingly praised. She followed it up by stepping beside the redhead and leaning in for a brief, but deep kiss.

Willow hummed in pleasure and then said, “That’s me; always thinking, thinking, thinking!”

Tara couched her voice low and seductive, and said, “Smart chicks are so hot!”

Tara laughed again and then left the room, saying, “I’ll let you prove that yet again later. Now, Mistress Tara has to go take care of her slayer.”

“If she ends up needing a spanking, can I watch?” Willow teasingly called out after her.

Even the prospect of dealing with a sulky slayer couldn’t erase her smile at Willow’s behavior. ‘Goddess, I so love that girl!’ Tara thought happily as she walked through their living room.

As she approached the glass door, she could see her blonde lover walking along the stair-wall, her hand reaching out to stroke some of the plants growing there. ‘My poor little slayer ... she looks so lost sometimes,’ she thought, a pang in her heart at the sight.

She went out the door and approached her lover from behind as she had with Willow moments earlier.

Buffy gave no sign of noticing Tara’s approach, yet the moment the she stepped up against the smaller girl’s backside, Buffy leaned back into her with a deep sigh, one hand reaching up to cup behind Tara’s neck, and the other covering Tara’s arms as they wrapped around Buffy’s stomach.

“They’re lovely, aren’t they, my slayer?” Tara began the conversation obliquely.

“The lavender,” Tara answered, gesturing with one hand toward the flowers that Buffy’d been touching.

‘Typical Buffy,’ Tara thought when Buffy didn’t offer anything more. ‘All this time with us and she’s still hesitant to talk about her feelings.’

Another dramatic sigh from the shorter girl caused Tara’s lips to twitch into a smile. She nuzzled the side of Buffy’s head, then lightly kissed her ear and whispered, “Tell me, Pet.”

‘At least she’s not trying to play the “I don’t know what you’re talking about” routine anymore,’ Tara thought. ‘That’s progress ... right?’

“No,” Buffy immediately answered, shaking her head slightly. “No, I’m more worried about the fact that I freaked out in the first place ... I mean, why? I know better.”

“Better than to think you guys would ever leave me ... for good I mean.” She answered. “I mean, if I thought you were gonna, like, *leave me* leave me, I could see getting all worked up and stuff, but I know better than that.”

“I know, I really do, and that’s why I’m freaked out, because there’s no reason why I should have freaked out, you know?”

‘I have no idea what to say to that,’ Tara thought, stroking Buffy’s belly in an attempt to reassure her physically when she couldn’t do so verbally.

“It doesn’t make any sense, Mistress!” Buffy whispered emphatically. “Even though I know better, the thought of not seeing the two of you for more than an hour or two ... even right now, it feels like this wave of panic is trying to crush down on me,” her voice had dropped into a harsh whisper.

“Look at me, Slayer,” Tara demanded, turning the smaller blonde around in her arms.

She saw that tears had started just at the corners of Buffy’s eyes, and her own grew moist in response.

“I know, Mistress!” Buffy all but wailed. “I know it’s not real, but I feel it — not in my heart, but in my body I feel it!”

Tara stroked her face. “We’ll figure this out, I promise. Somehow we’ll figure it out.”

Then the slayer said something that caused a chill to run through Tara. “It’s not fair! How come I’m the only one that has to feel like this?” she complained, her voice bitter and angry.

The smaller girl immediately dropped to her knees. “I’m sorry! Oh God, please, Mistress, I’m sorry I said that! Please, I didn’t mean it!” she babbled, sounding panicked.

“I’m sorry!” Buffy burst into tears and hugged Tara’s legs, crying aloud.

Finally, Tara had to grab the sobbing slayer by the shoulders and pull her up. “Slayer! Stop it this instant!” she commanded.

Buffy immediately stopped crying, sniveling slightly as she pulled herself together.

“I take it from your tone that you’re angry with Willow and me about this?” Tara said after a moment’s consideration.

Her lower lip pouting out like an errant schoolchild, Buffy nodded her head. “But I don’t mean to, I swear!” she quickly reiterated. “I try not to think about it, but every time I feel that panicky feeling, the thought pops into my head: ‘How come I feel this way, but you don’t?’ I know it’s wrong, but I can’t help it....” She trailed off desolately.

“Oh, Buffy!” Tara cried, fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. She pulled her lover into her arms and said, “You should have told me.”

“How could I?” was Buffy’s response. “It’s horrible and wrong, and I shouldn’t be thinking it, but I can’t stop myself.”

“But it’s not your fault,” Tara tried to reassure her. “We’re supposed to be in this together, but you’re the one being affected ... it’s natural that you’re going to feel some resentment. We just don’t want it building up and coming between us.”

“Yes, of course, my love,” Tara replied, hugging he tightly. “Nothing to forgive.”

In her mind she was seething. ‘If I find out someone did this to her I’m going to make them wish they’d never been born!’ she vowed silently.

“So, Ms. Lehane, we finally meet face-to-face.” Quentin Travers’ voice was dry and cool.

“It’s just Faith,” she answered somewhat hesitantly. Her mind was racing even as she tried to keep her body from falling back into a defensive stance. ‘Jeez, this guy is seriously settin’ off my friggin’ alarm bells!’ she thought, not for a moment reassured by his smile.

“Faith, then,” he said, his smile not faltering a bit, though his disapproval was clearly conveyed by his tone.

After a moment, he resumed speaking, “I suppose I should begin by apologizing for the council’s ... overzealousness ... several weeks ago. I recommended against sending a retrieval team, but — regrettably — was unable to sway the majority opinion.”

‘Yeah, I’m sure you were real sorry ... only ’cause it didn’t work!’ she thought distrustfully.

“I do hope that you understand that the council has no personal animosity towards you. They were simply concerned about your state of mind, given the situation.”

“Nevertheless, it seems that you have acquitted yourself well enough since the hellgoddess was dealt with,” he added smarmily. “If I might inquire, how is your reintegration into the Sunnydale team proceeding?”

Faith offered another slight shrug, “It’s goin’ okay, I guess. ’Bout as well as you can expect, you know?”

‘Like you really care,’ she almost snorted out loud. “Stuff’s workin’ out,” she said noncommittally.

“I don’t suppose it’s been particularly easy on you either, seeing them all again after your estrangement,” he offered with clearly false sympathy.

“Look, I don’t mean to be rude or whatever, but ... what do you want from me here?” she interjected when the insincerity became too much for her to stomach.

“Yes, well ... to the point then,” he said, his smile even wider, if anything. “I am here to determine your status so that I may return to the council and convince them — despite past events and alliances — that you deserve to remain free and active in the defense of the Hellmouth.”

Now she did snort disbelievingly. “Well, then you’re straight outta luck.” She said flatly.

“How so?” he asked unflappably, leaning back and lacing his fingers together on the table.

‘Asshole!’ she thought, bristling at the amused indulgence his posture indicated.

“Hey, I helped save the world, and you know what?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning at him. “It still don’t make up for the crap I did, the people I killed.”

Aloud, she continued, “I’ll never be able to take back what I did ... it ain’t even worth tryin’. All I can do now is try to do things right: slay the vamps and demons and protect people and stuff. The only thing I can say is that I can’t be any use to anybody in jail.”

She stared right into his eyes as she added, “Better off killin’ me and callin’ the next slayer than lockin’ me up some more.”

‘Damn, I knew it!’ she thought angrily when she saw the momentary gleam in Travers’ eyes.

He rapidly schooled his features and spoke almost as though she hadn’t said anything at all. “Yes, well ... there are a few questions I’d like to go over in order to make my assessment. Let’s begin then, shall we?”

‘He’s human ... you can’t kill him. Just remember: he’s human ... you can’t kill him,’ Faith told herself with a resigned sigh.

“Well, here we are ... this is the place,” Dawn said, looking at the door but making no move to knock.

“Well, it was either that, or you’re suddenly really interested in the door itself,” Xander explained, “what with the staring at it and not knocking or anything.”

“What’s to be nervous about?” he asked — genuinely curious — while he rubbed her gently at the small of her back.

“I dunno, it’s like ... if it was you, going in to a room of all these master-carpenters and you didn’t know any of them and what if they wanted you to build something to, you know, prove that you were a carpenter too, and you know you can, but what if you aren’t as good as you think and it’s not as good as they do it and what if they all laugh at you and stuff—” she babbled out in one long string before finally gasping for breath.

That apparently broke Dawn’s tension, because she laughed and teased him, “Yeah, you wish ... perv!”

“Hey!” he protested. “I didn’t mean it that way ... not that it makes for a bad mental image or anything....” He trailed off suggestively. ‘Hey, she brought it up,’ he justified to himself. ‘Actually ... she kinda brings that up a lot. Nah; that really would be wishful thinking.’

She slapped him lightly on the chest before turning back to the door. “Well, here goes,” she muttered and then knocked firmly on the door.

A moment later, the door opened slightly to show half of a short brunette’s face. “Yes?” she asked, looking back and forth between the two Scoobies.

“We’re here to see Sarah,” Dawn said, sounding confident despite her earlier nervousness. “Rupert Giles sent us.”

After several uncomfortable moments passed, the door re-opened and the woman said, “This way, please.” She turned and walked away without waiting to see if they followed.

“After you, love,” Xander said with a smile, tamping down his own sudden nervousness.

She preceded him into what turned out to be a large room, dimly lit and decorated unlike what one would imagine for a hotel room. ‘Kinda reminds me of Tara’s old dorm room ... kinda sorta, but not exactly,’ he thought.

Peripherally he noticed about a dozen women lounging about in low chairs, or on floor cushions. ‘High creep factor,’ he thought with a shudder as all of the women’s eyes followed him and Dawn. A tiny grin took over his mouth as Dawn’s hand sought and grabbed his own. ‘I guess I’m not the only one,’ he thought.

Their guide silently led them to a dim corner of the room, lit only by a handful of candles. A woman in a simple white dress was seated behind a small table and was laying out cards in front of her. ‘Looks like tarot,’ he thought with a slight roll of the eyes. ‘Jeez, could this whole scene be more stereotypical?’

The woman who had led them across the room did a tiny bow towards the seated woman and then left without a word. Xander and Dawn’s eyes met and both had similar raised brows at the overly-dramatic proceedings.

They waited in silence while the woman finished laying out her pattern. Finally, she looked up at them and spoke. “So, Rupert’s sent you with a puzzle that he cannot solve.” She made it a statement rather than a question.

“I am.” She intoned. “And you’re the witch Rupert said he’d send?” She looked pointedly toward Xander and Dawn’s joined hands, adding, “I was under the impression that you were partnered with another witch?”

“Oh, no,” Dawn began to explain. “Originally, Giles wanted to send Willow and Tara, but they couldn’t come. I’m, like, their student, I guess you’d say.”

‘I can’t tell if she’s pissed, or if she’s just playing with us,’ Xander though, suddenly a bit worried. ‘We’re pretty much screwed if they pull something ... I really don’t like six to one odds; especially with the whole magic thing.’

“How long have you been ... studying?” Sarah asked tonelessly, yet still giving off a feeling of disapproval.

Sarah frowned, the disapproval clear in her voice as she said, “Three months, and you think to call yourself a witch? You’re barely a neophyte.”

‘I’m getting a seriously bad feeling about this,’ Xander thought worriedly.

‘Bitch!’ Xander thought angrily as he heard quiet laughter from several of the women in the room.

“Look, we’re here to give you the amulet because Giles said you could help identify it.” Dawn answered sharply. “What does my being able to cast have to do with anything?”

Dawn interrupted, “God, what is this, a Harry Potter novel? Could you get a little more juvenile?”

“A witch who cannot cast is no witch,” Sarah continued as though Dawn hadn’t interrupted.

“I was taught that one shouldn’t cast frivolously,” Dawn answered just a bit haughtily.

For the first time since they’d encountered this woman, Sarah smiled. “That is wisdom,” she allowed. “However, a demonstration of ability to fellow witches is not a frivolous act. Perhaps if you were further along in your ... studies ... you would have known that.”

‘This should be interesting,’ Xander thought. ‘I never seen her do anything but that glamour ... and that didn’t really have anything to see.’

Dawn gave his hand a squeeze and then stepped back away from him a couple of meters. She stood silently with her eyes closed for a moment and then opened them back up with a wicked grin on her face.

‘What?’ Xander wondered when it appeared that nothing was happening. A gasp from Sarah caused him to glance back toward her. ‘Holy crap!’ he thought with a gasp of his own as he saw the candle flames on her table stretch toward his lover.

He quickly scanned the room to see that every open flame in the room was stretched out, reaching towards Dawn. When they’d stretched out about a half-meter in length, the flames leapt away from the candles and sped towards the lithe brunette. ‘Dawn, no!’ Xander had a brief moment of panic but the flames didn’t impact with her, rather they began to spin around her body like a tornado of flame instead of air. Another moment later and the flames began to change colors, going from orange to yellow, and then to green, blue, violet, and finally pulsing red for a second. Then they began to cycle through the colors faster and faster.

‘She looks like she’s in a flaming rainbow blender!’ he thought bewilderedly. A few seconds later the flames shot away from her like scattering raindrops of colored fire, landing back on the candles, which he noticed were significantly burned down.

Instead of being impressed, the women in the room suddenly began to hiss in anger. “That was no witchcraft!” Sarah said sounding angry.

“What do you mean?” Dawn asked, sounding surprised. “That was *so* magic!”

“We are daughters of the Goddess. We have no truck with sorcery!” Sarah continued heatedly. “It is an anathema!”

“Leave it,” she spat. “I will repay the debt I owe, but be sure to tell Rupert Giles that he will hear from me on this! Sending a sorceress, and trying to pass her off as a witch! It’s repugnant!”

“Whatever!” Xander muttered. ‘Great of Giles to send us to see a bunch of psychos!’ he thought angrily as he fished out the amulet from his pocket and set it on the table. He quickly turned and put his arm around Dawn to lead her out of the room.

“Later, kitten. Let’s just get out of here,” he whispered in her ear as he half-dragged her to the door.

The door opened for them and slammed shut behind them, nearly striking their heels. “Boy, am I glad to get out of there!” he muttered as they rapidly walked down the hall. ‘Never have I been so happy to be leaving a room full of beautiful women before in my life!’ he thought.

“What in the hell was that!” Dawn spluttered as they entered the elevator at the end of the hall, finally finding her voice.

“I dunno, but Giles has some ’splainin’ to do!” he vowed as they began to travel down.

‘He can’t be human. No human could possibly be this friggin’ stuck-up and boring, could they?’ Faith asked herself in amazement as the senior Watchers’ Council member continued to drone on as he had for the past twenty minutes. She’d tuned out the actual words five minutes into the monologue.

‘Jeez, first this asshole makes me relive every crappy thing I’ve done since being the freakin’ slayer, and then it’s the “Honor, responsibility, duty” speech. It’s like he thinks I should be thanking him personally for me bein’ the slayer! What a tool!’

“And, therefore, it is vital that you remember, Faith; being the slayer is not only a sacred calling, but a privilege. A privilege that must be constantly earned with every thought, every deed.”

“Privilege, right. Got it,” she said when he seemed to have finally wrapped up his lecture.

He stared at her with a sour look on his face for several seconds before imperiously allowing, “Very well, Faith. You may be excused.”

‘What? Why you—’ she thought, but immediately shut herself down. ‘Crap, don’t want another friggin’ lecture,’ she thought, disdaining any response as she got up and walked out of the room.

Fuming, she ran down the stairs to the lobby rather than taking the elevator. ‘I need to work off some steam before I end up beatin’ someone down for lookin’ at me funny,’ she thought. And I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna hang out outside for a while and see if this prick goes anywhere ... ’cause there’s no way he came all the way to Sunny-D just to talk to little ol’ me!’

It didn’t take long. Within half an hour of his interview with her, Quentin Travers exited the hotel.

‘Arrogant prick!’ she thought, not for the first time, as he walked up to the valet and had him hail a cab. ‘He’s not even looking around!’ she thought derogatorily. ‘This guy thinks he’s Mr. Friggin’ Important ... or he’s used to bein’ surrounded by bodyguards or something.’

It didn’t require any great expenditure of effort, even though she was on foot, to keep pace with the yellow cab as it turned the corner and headed towards one of the town’s residential districts.

Cutting down alleyways and hopping people’s fences, Faith ran full-out, as much to burn off some of her anger-induced energy as to keep up with the taxi.

‘Hey, I’ve been down this street before,’ she thought with a vague sense of unease beginning to manifest in the pit of her stomach.

She popped out of one yard and crouched down next to a parked car, looking toward the intersection to see which way the cab was going to go. ‘It’s gotta go straight, no way it’s turning here ... just a coincidence ... just a really freaky coincidence.’

It was as though her heartbeat paused when the cab slowed as it approached the intersection. “No ... no, please,” her voice was that of a frightened child as the car’s turn-signal lit up and it turned left, coming towards her position.

Frozen in place with adrenaline coursing through her body, she nearly let herself be exposed as the car passed her position. In the end, she just fell on her ass and it was only luck that neither the cabbie nor Travers glanced to their left to see her.

“Can’t be ... it’s a mistake—” she sat in stunned horror as the cab came to a stop in front of one of the houses.

The house in question was known to the dark-haired slayer. In fact, she just happened to have the key to that house on a ring in her front pocket.

‘This is actually pretty cool!’ Xander thought, surprised as he looked up at the lightshow above them.

“Isn’t this cool?” Dawn asked with an excited voice. “Fairmont Street’s one of my favorites, but the best is the one at the Bellagio! I can’t wait to show you that one!” she gushed, giving his hand a squeeze as she bounced up and down on her toes.

“Me either,” Xander answered, looking down at his lover’s face. ‘I love seeing you like this,’ he thought happily. ‘So excited and joyful ... and so very beautiful!’

“Xander!” Dawn chastised him with a laugh. “You aren’t watching the lightshow!”

‘Once again I have to marvel at how I got so lucky!’ he thought, contented. ‘I can die a happy man, now.’

Everyone around them had their heads tipped back, focused on the light show playing above them, so Xander was the only one to notice the approaching SUV slow to a stop. He looked up from his girlfriend’s face, focusing on the vehicle. A cold shiver ran down his back when the heavily tinted driver’s window began to slide down.

‘Oh crap,’ ran through his mind as his subconscious began screaming, ‘Danger!’ The sounds of the crowd bled away and the thump of his heart filled his ears. Before he even knew why he was doing it, he pulled Dawn into his arms and turned them so that he was between the truck and his lover.

Her head snapped down as her eyes locked onto his. “Xander, wha—” he saw cross her lips though he couldn’t hear her confused exclamation.

‘Firecrackers?’ the word appeared in his consciousness for a moment as a string of loud snapping sounds filled the air. Then the burning pain bloomed in a line up his back, the pressure of it pushing him forward, his grip taking Dawn down with him as he fell forward.

He winced more at the pain in Dawn’s face as they hit the concrete than he did at his own agony. ‘Sorry!’ he wanted to say, but he couldn’t inhale the air to speak.

Tears started in his eyes at the fear in her eyes while she called out his name. ‘I didn’t mean it!’ he screamed silently, his mouth wide open as his body struggled futilely to draw in a breath. ‘Dawn, please! I don’t want to leave you!’ he thought miserably, knowing from the pain in his back and the feeling of cold seeping through his unresponsive limbs that death would be soon upon him.

‘I love you!’ he mouthed over and over, his eyes locked on the panic-filled gaze of the girl he loved, barely noticing the tears falling onto her cheeks from his own.

‘At least I got to go out saving her,’ was his dying thought as darkness stole over his vision.

“Are you out of your mind?” Alex’s voice was loud enough that even someone not gifted with slayer senses would have heard it. Crouched outside a bathroom window on the side of the house, Faith had no difficulty following the conversation.

‘This is a nightmare!’ She thought, her sense of betrayal nearly bringing her to her knees. ‘And I’m a fool. I can’t believe I trusted them! I should’ve known — hell, I did know! I just didn’t listen to myself,’ she growled at herself.

Faith had followed Quentin Travers from his hotel, instinctively knowing he wasn’t being truthful about his reason for being in Sunnydale. His arrogance was such that she didn’t even have to work to follow him unseen, cutting between buildings and through yards, utilizing her vamp-chasing speed to keep up with the car.

When the cab turned down this particular street, she started to get a sick feeling in her stomach. She nearly doubled over and puked when the cab stopped and Quentin got out at one particular address. It was a house with which Faith was intimately familiar: the home of Alex and Beth.

‘I should just go in there and....’ She choked out a sob as her anger was overwhelmed with sorrow and pain. ‘I thought they might really love me. God! What a sap!’

‘Haven’t you learned by now? No one will ever love you! You don’t deserve it; you aren’t worth it!’

“The two of you have failed to perform your functions satisfactorily,” Quentin’s patronizing voice rang out.

“And you thought coming here in broad daylight would help matters?” Beth’s voice was filled with outrage.

“You were assigned to keep an eye on the renegade. Gain her trust.” Quentin’s voice was supremely condescending.

“You arrogant ass!” Alex shouted angrily. “We took this assignment for one reason, because you said she needed help.”

“We didn’t come her to spy on her for you. We came here because one of the two girls who got stuck having to spend their lives fighting to save the world was hurting! Damaged, even!” Alex continued unabated.

“And it certainly didn’t help matters when you tried to abduct the poor woman before we could even get started!” Beth’s voice shared her husband’s anger. “Our job is to help her. Help her overcome her anger and pain; help her move on from the terrible things in her past before they destroy her.”

‘Help me, huh?’ Faith thought, the sense of betrayal lessening. ‘Well, lying to me ain’t a good way to go about it!’ she told herself, wanting to hold on to her anger.

“And your solution was to repeatedly seduce her into your bed.” Quentin challenged.

“Faith needs someone to be there for her, to put her first. Also, she’s a slayer. That means a significantly amplified libido,” Alex started explaining.

Beth said it more plainly. “Slayers need sex. If you watchers weren’t a bunch of sexless prigs, you’d understand that. They’re primal. They need food, they need to hunt, and they need sex,” she said unapologetically.

Beth went on, “When they’re denied those things, they have a tendency to cope poorly. You see it in Buffy: she performs much better when she is in a physically and emotionally satisfying relationship.”

“I don’t recall a lack of physical gratification ever being an issue for Faith.” Quentin snarked.

“Just because slayers are primal, doesn’t make them animals!” Alex seethed, clearly furious with the senior watcher.

“Serial one-night-stands weren’t helping Faith’s sense of self-worth,” Beth explained. “Hooking up with men who saw her as nothing more than a piece of meat caused her to both believe that about herself, and to see others the same way.”

‘She actually sounds sad about that.’ Faith thought; part of her desperately wanted to believe that Alex and Beth cared about her, despite the anger and betrayal she was feeling.

‘Please, she’s just trying to “fix” you ’cause you’re so screwed up! You’re like a ... a project or something,’ her dark voice reminded her.

“You treat slayers like nothing more than tools, to be used and discarded!” Alex said angrily.

“We are fighting a war,” Quentin said contemptuously. “The slayers are one tool with which to wage that war.”

‘Bastard!’ Faith thought disgustedly. ‘Your lily-white ass is safe and secure back in Jolly-Old! I’d like to see you out here facing a vamp. You’d probably wet yourself, right before you got your ass killed!’

“The slayers are human beings! Young women who carry all the baggage that comes with being young women. Then you add in the incredible pressure of being responsible for saving the world from the forces of darkness! You cannot treat them as though they’re disposable!” Alex raged. “God, even from a purely military point of view, you have to be concerned with the morale of your troops! Do you know that she actually told us that all she was good for was sex and death! You were the one who told us she needed help, and you were right!” he said earnestly.

“What is it with these American slayers?” Quentin asked indignantly. “First Rupert falls for his charge, fancying himself to be her father; now you two have fallen for Faith.”

Faith gasped and her heart beat sped up. ‘Not true!’ part of her mind yelled out. ‘It was just their job, they don’t—’ Even the voice of her insecurities shut up as Faith, panting for breath, waited for the inevitable denial to come.

“You really are a jackass, Quentin,” Beth said, her voice as much filled with wonder as with scorn.

“Are you really going to deny that you have developed romantic feelings for the girl?” Quentin demanded.

The pregnant pause nearly undid Faith. Her breath hitched and it felt like her heart had stopped as she waited for the answer.

“What you fail to grasp, Quentin, is this: the fact that, somewhere along the way, we fell in love with Faith only makes us *more* qualified to help her, not less.”

Beth’s voice continued speaking for a moment, but Faith couldn’t make out the words. ‘Oh God, oh God, oh God!’ she thought, her mind buzzing. Adrenaline pumped through her body and her hands and feet suddenly felt like ice. ‘I think I’m going to—’ Faith leaned away from the window and vomited forcefully, her stomach nearly cramping from the intensity.

When she stood back upright she had to brace herself against the side of the house. “Whoa! Serious dizzy-spell there. Christ, I feel like I got kicked in the head or something.” she muttered, her body shivering slightly.

“—questionable loyalties,” Quentin’s voice again registered in Faith’s ears.

Though she felt strangely disconnected from reality at the moment, Faith refocused her attention on the conversation occurring inside the house.

“On the contrary, Quentin; our loyalties are incontrovertible,” Alex’s firm voice echoed through Faith’s consciousness. “They simply lie with Faith, not with you.”

“However, our goal — helping Faith — happens to be the same as your stated goal, so why don’t you just leave us to it?” Beth asked in a tone that brooked no argument.

“This can’t be real,” Faith whispered, her voice sounding tiny and lost. “Stuff like this doesn’t happen to me.”

“As I can no longer trust your judgment in this matter, I am afraid I have no choice but to remove you from this assignment,” Quentin said officiously.

“Do you *want* Faith to fail? Is that it?” Beth asked angrily. “Recalling us would only serve to hurt her!”

“I have made up my mind. You’ll be sent to London for debriefing, and then we’ll see what other assignment may be available,” Quentin decreed.

‘No! No!’ Faith’s conscious mind struggled towards clarity as anger burned away the fog in which it had been hidden. ‘I can’t lose them! I just found them! I ... I think I might—’

Sensation began returning to Faith’s body as she came to a realization. “I ... I might love them,” she whispered hesitantly, cringing almost as if she was waiting for the blow to fall in response to her words. “But they lied ... how do I know?”

“Do you really for a moment imagine that we will just pick up and leave, simply because you say so?” Alex’s harsh voice rang out. “We’re staying. Faith needs our help, and frankly we’ve reached the point where neither of us would be willing to live without her.”

“Faith needs us!” Beth agreed passionately. “And we need her too! We’re not leaving.”

Her lovers’ declarations were like being immersed in warm water. ‘God, I can feel my whole body tingling,’ Faith thought in amazement. ‘Damn, is this what it feels like?’

‘If they lied about the council, how do you know this isn’t a lie?’ the dark voice inside her interjected.

“If you refuse, your employment will be immediately terminated,” Quentin threatened.

Raising his voice to overwhelm their laughter, Quentin continued, “*And*, I will see to it that Faith finds out that you have been working against her.”

“We aren’t working against her; we’re trying to help her!” Alex said in a low, dangerous voice.

Quentin seemed unimpressed as he scoffed, “Somehow I doubt that she will see it that way.”

“We’ll tell her ourselves,” Beth asserted. “If we have to get on our knees and beg her forgiveness, we’ll at least make sure she knows that we only ever wanted to help her; to be there for her.”

“And do you think she’ll ever trust you again?” Quentin argued, still sounding ever-so-superior. “She’ll think you’ve betrayed her.”

‘Oh God, I probably would have too,’ Faith thought ashamedly. ‘I would have bought it, if I hadn’t been here to hear it for myself. I would have trusted that bastard.’

“You know that I’m right,” Quentin went on. “Why ruin your own lives? Simply accept reassignment.”

“No. We’re staying,” Alex said firmly, though Faith could also detect a note of uncertainty in his voice. “Worst case, she does believe that we betrayed her. At least we’ll have a chance; we’ll be able to keep trying to convince her.”

“That is assuming that you even survive the revelation,” Quentin said derisively.

“She’s a rabid dog!” Quentin stated angrily, clearly losing his patience at last. “She *will* turn on you! She cannot be trusted.”

‘No! I’d never ...’ Faith immediately thought. ‘I wouldn’t — oh God, I hope I wouldn’t — but if I hadn’t been here. If I hadn’t heard....’

“I think it’s time for you to leave, Mr. Travers,” Alex said stiffly, his voice clearly laden with repressed rage.

“Fools!” Quentin barked. “Fine, throw yourselves to the she-wolf! You’ll receive no assistance from the council. As of this moment, you may consider yourselves fired!”

Faith was still shivering with fear as images of her possible reactions ran through her head. The slamming of the front door snapped her out of her fugue state.

“Bloody fools!” she heard Quentin’s voice coming from the front of the house. At the same time she heard, “Arrogant prick!” from inside as Alex was clearly seething.

“It doesn’t matter. He can’t hurt us now,” Beth’s soothing voice quietly sounded out.

“Whatever we have to,” Alex answered determinedly. “We’ll just tell her the truth, and hope to God that she’ll forgive us.”

‘The truth,’ Faith thought. ‘God, what do I do?’ she thought as feelings of love and lust warred with residual mistrust and fear inside her. ‘Crap, whatever I do, I’d better follow the asshole and see what other crap he’s trying to pull.’

Reluctantly Faith moved out to keep Quentin within eyesight. ‘What do I do? I want to trust ... but they lied to me. But they gave up everything ... for me.’

People were screaming and running around blindly in terror, yet that was a mere blip on the periphery of Dawn’s awareness.

Out of breath already from being fallen upon, Dawn’s last gasp came out as a whimper. ‘Xan ... no, please,’ she thought while panic ran through her like an icy, torrential river. She watched as his lips formed the last, ‘I love you,’ and then went slack. The warmth that had always filled his eyes — especially when they were focused on hers — drained away, leaving them flat and cold.

Dawn sucked in a great draught of air and screamed, “Xander!” She rolled with all her might, moving his dead weight off of her and scrambling to her knees. ‘No, no! You can’t ... please, you can’t leave me!’ her mind cried over and over as she began to administer CPR.

“One, two, three,” she muttered under her breath as she compressed his broad chest. ‘Don’t you leave me, dammit!’ she thought angrily. Immediately, her anger switched to fear and she mentally added, ‘Please, sugar ... please don’t go!’

She tipped back his head and covered his mouth with her own, her mind deliberately ignoring the coolness of his lips as she tried to breathe life back into her lover. Watching his chest rise and fall with her breaths teased her with a glimmer of hope that quickly turned to even greater agony when it didn’t continue the pattern on its own.

“Somebody call nine-one-one!” she screamed at the riotous crowd as she quickly went back to giving his chest compressions. “One, two, three ... please ... please don’t go.”

Hot tears streamed down her face, dripping onto her hands as she focused on trying to revive him, even as her subconscious mind began to realize the awful truth.

‘He’s gone,’ the agonized thought rolled through Dawn’s mind. Silent tears continued to run down her face like a river of pain as she sat on the curb. She was clutching her arms tightly around her stomach, as though subconsciously trying to hold herself together. Not ten feet away, cops and paramedics were standing around or packing up their equipment — waiting for the coroner, she’d overheard them say.

‘He really left me,’ she thought despondently, not even realizing how illogical the thought was.

Some indeterminable time later, the approach of two women, carrying what looked like fishing tackle-boxes, entered her awareness.

“What’ve we got?” the redhead asked the suit-wearing cop who’d been standing around, apparently overseeing things.

“Well, no one saw anything,” he began, pointing up to the lights. “Everyone watching the show and all. But all the witnesses so far agree that the shooter was on full rock-and-roll.”

“Machine gun,” the brunette opined, sounding surprised. “And no other casualties?”

“I don’t think so,” the cop disagreed. “Even not counting the other people, there’s a wall of glass behind where he was standing. Not a single broken pane.”

“Hmmph” the brunette said, again sounding surprised. “Who’s the girl?”

Though clearly hearing the conversation, ‘the girl’ in question didn’t react when the attention of the three turned directly on her. Dawn’s mind was still reeling from the sudden crushing blow of going from delirious joy to heartbreaking despair.

“Girlfriend, apparently,” the cop answered the brunette’s question. “She was doing CPR when we arrived....” He trailed off with a dry chuckle.

“She wouldn’t stop and let the paramedics look at him. Iverson ended up pulling her away from him and she went off on him.”

“Stomped on his foot, wriggled out of his arms and tagged him right across the chin,” he said in an oddly amused tone.

“Yeah, I thought we were going to have to subdue her, but right then the paramedic said the kid was dead, told us to call the M.E. and she just stopped,” he said with a bit of sympathy creeping into his tone. “Dropped down to the ground right there and hasn’t moved since.”

“I’m surprised Iverson didn’t tackle her down and cuff her anyway,” the brunette said wonderingly.

“Being unconscious,” the cop answered like it was the punch line to a funny joke.

It replayed over and over again in her head, the sound of them zipping Xander’s body bag closed. Each replay was one more agonizing rip in Dawn’s heart. She’d watched as the two women examined the area around his body, looking but not touching, until a nerdy looking guy that they called ‘David’ had shown up. It hurt to see him dispassionately touching and talking about Xander like he was some inanimate object, but the pain was a bare drop in the ocean of despair that filled her. No coherent thoughts formed in her mind as she observed everything, just aching emptiness.

She was sitting in a bare room with only a table and chairs and the untouched cup of coffee that they’d set in front of her. She was dressed in a gray sweatshirt and pants because they’d taken her clothes — ‘to process’ the brunette woman had apologetically explained.

Her eyes were the only things that moved, looking up to the mirror that covered one whole wall of the room when the door to the room opened behind her. The cop in the suit and the redhead from earlier entered the room and sat in the chairs across from her.

“Ms. Summers, I’m Detective Jim Brass, with the Las Vegas PD,” the man introduced himself. “This is Catherine Willows from the Crime Lab. We’re very sorry for your loss, but we need to ask—”

“No you’re not,” Dawn interrupted, her voice barely above a whisper, raspy and harsh as her throat was both dry and thick with sorrow.

“You didn’t know him,” Dawn went on, her voice devoid of the emotion that churned inside of her. “He meant nothing to you. He meant everything to me.” Her words were not at all accusatory, just a dry statement of fact that was belied by the tears that continued to stream unabated from her eyes.

“Dawn, we need you to tell us what happened,” Catherine said with a sincere-sounding tone of empathy.

“We were watching the lightshow ... well, I was anyway,” Dawn amended. “Xander was watching me watch the lightshow.”

“Xander likes—” she stopped and had to swallow past a lump of emotion in her throat before correcting herself. “He liked to watch me get excited about stuff, to see me smile,” she explained. Her tone clearly indicated that such behaviors were unlikely to ever reoccur.

“He grabbed me and spun us around.” Her voice grew even quieter as she continued, “I heard gunshots and then he fell on me.”

She took a shaky breath and the dry, emotionless voice was replaced by a quiet groan of horror as she said, “I watched the life go out in his ey-eyes.”

She clenched her eyes shut and forced back the sob that threatened to rise out of her chest. ‘Not now, Summers!’ she raged at herself. ‘Later, you can fall apart, but not now.’

She sniffled loudly and then shook her head before opening her eyes and continuing. “I rolled him over on his back and started doing CPR.” Her voice was back to flat and emotionless. Her mind replayed again and again the useless effort to revive her lover.

“That’s it,” she answered. “I just kept going and going until some guy pulled me away from him.”

Dawn’s eyes move up to meet his for the first time since he and the woman had entered the room. “Huh?” she grunted, frowning slightly in confusion.

The detective smiled and elucidated, “The police officer that pulled you away from your boyfriend: Officer Iverson.”

“Oh....” She trailed off. ‘Like I care what his name was,’ she thought with a slightly annoyed feeling.

“Yes, well, the paramedics were trying to get to your boyfriend and you weren’t letting them,” the detective further explained.

“Well, it’s understandable,” Catherine said charitably. “I’m sure you were focused on trying to save his life.”

“I knew he was dead ... I knew it when I saw his eyes,” Dawn whispered. “I just didn’t want to believe it, I think.”

“You were pretty upset when he pulled you away,” the detective said with that same little smile on his face.

“I guess,” Dawn said with a slight shrug. “I don’t really remember much except hearing that guy say he was dead ... that’s when it really hit me, I guess.”

“Um, no?” she answered, no memory of hitting anyone popping up at the question.

“Oh ... sorry,” Dawn apologized. ‘He doesn’t seem all that pissed ... not that I really care. She seems like she’s trying not to laugh.’ she thought, glancing toward the woman.

Dawn thought about that for a heartbeat, ‘I guess I shouldn’t involve the coven.’ She offered something vague, “It was like a mini-vacation, I guess.”

“Yeah, you know ... like a weekend getaway thing.” Her eyes dropped as she added, “Xander’d never been here, and I wanted to show him the shows on the strip.”

“You’ve been here before?” Catherine asked, almost sounding disinterested.

Dawn looked up to meet the redhead’s gaze. ‘Your eyes give you away,’ she thought. ‘I don’t know what the big deal is, it’s not like they could possibly know anything that happened last time I was here.’

“Um, yeah, a couple months ago,” she said, keeping her tone as bland as possible.

“No,” Dawn said with a frown. “Hello? Didn’t I just say that he’d never been to Vegas?”

“Hey now, it’s just a question, there’s no reason to get upset,” the detective said placatingly.

“No, it’s not ‘just’ a question, when I already answered it,” she began in clipped, angry tones. “It’s a freaking interrogation! The love of my life just died in my arms; I knelt in a pool of his blood trying to bring him back to me!” Her angry tone faded into an agonized wail.

‘Asshole!’ she thought, infuriated with him; and herself for nearly breaking down. She pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes, as though physically forcing the tears back.

“Brass, can I talk to you outside?” Catherine’s voice was soft, but there was an underlying note of anger detectable. “Excuse us for a moment,” her voice was more genuinely soft as she spoke to Dawn.

The two left the room and Dawn slumped back in her chair, rubbing at the wetness on her face. ‘I’m so tired,’ she thought suddenly. ‘I feel like something all of a sudden just sucked all of the energy out of me!’

Her arms felt leaden and she let them fall to her sides. Her chin dropped to her chest and fresh tears started at her eyes as she forgot about the two cops and focused once again on the enormity of the situation. ‘God, Xander ... how am I supposed to deal? I feel like everything good in me died with you.’

A few minutes later the door opened and the redhead walked in alone. “Dawn?” she asked with what sounded like genuine concern.

Dawn interrupted any further protestation, asking, “Then can you please have someone take me back to the hotel? I just want to bawl my eyes out and sleep for the next ever.”

“I ... of course,” Catherine answered, sounding uncomfortable. “I ... is there anyone I can call? Your mother?” she trailed off.

‘Mom? Oh God, Buffy ... and Willow!’ Dawn thought anxiously, though even that worry wasn’t enough to break through her physical lethargy. She slowly shook her head and said, “I’ll call my sister later.”

“Okay,” Catherine agreed hesitantly. “I guess ... I’ll drive you back. The Monte Carlo, right?”

‘What does she want?’ Dawn wondered as she surreptitiously observed the redheaded investigator in the black-mirrored wall of the elevator. Catherine, the redhead in question, was more overtly watching Dawn, almost staring at her.

The ride from the police station to the hotel had been made in uncomfortable silence. ‘She kept acting like she wanted to say something ... or ask something,’ Dawn thought. ‘I’m glad she didn’t. I don’t know what I’d say. I just feel like ... empty. Like my insides are missing ... God, this can’t be real, can it? Please let it be just a nightmare ... let me wake up!’

Shaking her head slightly, Dawn closed her eyes and focused on pushing back the tangled knot of traumatic emotion that was continually threatening to overwhelm her.

She opened her eyes and again looked at the other woman in the mirror. ‘Is she worried I’m going to freak out, or is she trying to get a look in our — my room; figure out why someone would be trying to kill one of us?’

The elevator slowed to a stop. She was startled slightly when Catherine broke the silence. “Was your boyfriend a gambler?”

Dawn frowned at the question, both for its content and for flash of pain that occurred with every past-tense reference to Xander. “No, why?”

“Usually these suites are reserved as comps for the high-rollers,” Catherine explained.

“Oh, I don’t know. Xander just said he wanted to stay someplace nice,” Dawn answered, thinking, ‘Now I’m glad we didn’t stay at Huggy Bear’s house. That would have required some serious explaining.’

Dawn slid the card key into the slot and opened the door, walking into the room, Catherine on her heels. ‘We made love on that couch, and then again on the rug right in front of it ... God, was it just this morning?’ she thought. The empty ache in her heart of her absent lover made itself more strongly known as she looked around the room. She turned to the doors that led to the bedroom and thought, ‘How am I going to sleep in there without him? How am I going to sleep anywhere, ever again?’

Suddenly the doors to the bedroom opened, the sound of the knob turning was shockingly loud in the uncomfortable silence.

An older, darkly tanned man with thinning hair stepped through the door, immediately bringing up his hands which were filled with a big, ugly, black machine pistol. “Don’t even!” the stranger commanded, jerking the muzzle of the gun in Catherine’s direction. He must have seen her badge and gun because he spat, “Great, a freaking cop. That little bitch is gonna owe me extra for this!”

The stranger’s eyes flicked briefly in Dawn’s direction. “Dumb kid got in the way.” An evil grin suddenly grew on his face as he continued, “If it’s any consolation, you’ll be seeing him again, here in a minute.”

The woman’s voice continued but Dawn’s awareness of it faded away. ‘You killed Xander,’ she thought again as the emotionless void inside her suddenly filled up with rage. Filled up and overflowed as Dawn’s vision went red and she shrieked, “You killed Xander!”

Mentally, she lashed out at the man, pouring her rage at him as though it was a physical thing.

Xander sat up. ‘Bed?’ he thought, looking down to see on what he was sitting. ‘Everything’s white,’ he further thought as he took in his surroundings. “Is this a hospital?” he wondered aloud.

“Jesse?” Xander asked in shock as he turned his head to see the room’s other occupant.

“Who else, Bro?” Jesse answered from where he was sitting, sprawled out in a large, overstuffed chair across the room.

“I guess this isn’t a hospital,” Xander muttered, his mind filled with confusion.

“Duh,” Jesse answered sardonically. “You never were very quick, were you?”

Jesse laughed again. “What the hell makes you think you’d end up in Heaven?”

Xander’s mind shied away from the resulting conclusion. “What happened?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Oh God, Dawn!” Xander suddenly remembered what had happened. “Is she okay?”

“How the hell would I know?” Jesse sneered. “I’m stuck here with your lame ass, ain’t I?”

‘Please, please, let her be okay ... as okay as she can be, anyway,’ Xander fervently beseeched.

“Speaking of ass,” Jesse drawled out in a taunting voice. “I cannot believe you’re porkin’ some sixteen-year-old!”

“Hey!” Xander snapped, leaping to his feet and looming over his former best friend’s form. “You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about!”

Jesse seemed unfazed by Xander’s actions. “Well, maybe I’ve got it all wrong,” he said condescending. “Let’s take a look at it; is she sixteen?”

“So, that’s a yes,” he went on. “Now then, are you going to tell me you ain’t tappin’ that ass?”

Xander shook his head, stumbling backward towards the bed. “You’re not Jesse,” he whispered. ‘Jesse would never talk to me like this,’ he told himself silently.

“Well, you’d know, wouldn’t you?” Jesse said, standing up. “After all, you’re the one that killed me.”

‘This isn’t happening,’ Xander told himself, his eyes squeezing shut. “I didn’t kill you,” he explained, opening his eyes and seeing Jesse standing right before him. “A vampire killed you, I just killed the vampire.”

“Potato, po-tah-to,” Jesse said dismissively. “Still a murderer in my book.”

“What about stabbing a human through the heart?” another voice off to Xander’s right demanded.

A chill ran through his blood as he slowly turned his head. “Ben,” he whispered.

‘Now, that is just creepy,’ the thought popped unbidden into Xander’s mind as Ben’s appearance transitioned back and forth between his previous, uninjured appearance, and the burned and bloody appearance he had just prior to Xander killing him.

Stiffening his resolve, Xander straightened his shoulders and stood upright. “I didn’t murder you, Ben, I killed you; there’s a difference.”

“Oh, this ought to be good,” Jesse drawled. “Tell us, oh murderous child molester, what is the difference?”

Ignoring Jesse, Xander forced himself to make eye contact with Ben. ‘Alright, Xan, you and Dawn went over this, like, a thousand times ... just say it.’

“It was war, Ben. Like it or not, you were the bad guy, and I had to do it,” Xander said with only a slight quiver in his voice. “It was you or the world, and I chose the world over you.”

“You were Glory!” Xander shouted right back. “She was a part of you and you knew what she was going to do!”

“I couldn’t stop her!” Ben countered. “I was just an innocent human, what was I supposed to do?”

“That’s a load of crap and you know it!” Xander shouted back. “You knew she was in you, and you knew she was going to destroy the world and you didn’t do anything!”

“Kill yourself!” Xander shouted, interrupting him. “You selfish bastard! You knew what was going to happen, and you could have stopped it, but you decided you were more important than the whole world!” Impassioned now, he continued his rant, “You should have killed yourself the moment you figured out that you couldn’t get rid of her! I would’ve done it. The people I’m friends with risk their lives all the time to protect people and keep the world safe. Any one of us, if we knew it was us or the world, would’ve done it in a heartbeat! But you, you selfish prick, you decided to risk the planet to save yourself. How many lives did Glory take, how many minds did she break, because you didn’t have the balls—”

“That’s a nice theory, Xander,” Jesse interjected. “But, we both know you didn’t do it for the world ... you did it for that little slice you’ve been sticking it to.”

“What do you say, Ben?” Jesse continued, ignoring Xander now. “What should we do with a child-molesting murderer?”

“Well, he’s dead and all,” Ben said with a grin, still disturbingly switching back and forth between healthy Ben and beat-to-a-pulp Ben. “Why don’t we stick him in his box?”

The color of the pulsing light began to shift from white to an emerald green color.

Before Xander could move or speak, each of his tormenters had grabbed one of his arms and they swiftly dragged him backward.

‘No, Holy God, no!’ he thought, looking over his shoulder and seeing a rectangular hole in the ground where the bed had been.

He couldn’t even scream as they slammed him down into the hole, knocking the air out of him.

The pulsing green light above grew impossibly bright just before the lid of his coffin slammed shut.

‘Lovely,’ Giles thought with a soft sigh, as he still almost always did when watching his lover walk away from him.

“Um, hey Ms. S,” Faith’s voice sounded tentative. “Is Jeev — uh, Giles around?”

“Ah, if it ain’t a bad time or anything, I kinda, um....” Faith trailed off.

He stood up and walked to the door. ‘Good Lord!’ he thought upon seeing the younger slayer. ‘She doesn’t look at all well.’

“Faith, what’s happened?” he asked, trying to keep his voice even and calm.

“I need ... can I talk to you?” she asked, her body language screaming discomfort and unease.

‘Not at all like the usual swagger,’ he thought as she walked into the apartment, her hands twitching and clenching over and over and her posture extremely stiff.

“Look, I’m not good at, like, asking for help and stuff, but....” She trailed off, her eyes darting around the room, avoiding both him and Joyce.

“Do you want something to drink?” Joyce asked, her voice also projecting sympathy.

“Um ... okay, yeah. I guess,” Faith answered, sitting on the edge of the couch, a palpable air of tension rising from her as she tapped her feet and clenched her hands.

He met her eyes and saw deep concern written in her gaze. He tried to smile encouragingly at her and then took a seat facing the agitated slayer.

“It’s quite alright, Faith.” He said in a soft voice. “Now then, tell me; what’s wrong?” His voice turned hard as something occurred to him. “Did that bloody pillock say or do something?”

‘Good Lord, her body language is practically screaming fear and uncertainty,’ he thought. ‘Relax old man ... you don’t want to scare her off.’

“Whatever it is, I’m certain that we can find a way to resolve things, Faith,” he said as reassuringly as possible.

When she didn’t say anything for a moment, he gave a gentle prod, “I take it that your meeting didn’t go as well as we hoped?”

She snorted a brief laugh at that. “Nah, it went about like I expected ... guy’s a real jerk, you know?”

“Yeah, so anyway ... after the lecture and stuff, I decided to hang around for a while, down in the lobby. Wanted to see if he was gonna maybe take off and I could find out why he was really here, you know?” she explained.

“Good show, Faith,” Giles praised. “I imagine by the fact that you’re here now, that he did indeed meet with someone else?”

‘I don’t believe I’ve seen her this openly vulnerable in all the time I’ve known her!’ Giles thought, fighting to keep the surprise out of his expression.

“He took a cab, I followed him ... all the way to ... to Alex and Beth’s house,” her voice was a pained whisper.

“Oh no! Faith,” Joyce — who had just brought the tea tray out — cried out, sounding horrified.

“Yeah,” Faith nodded slowly, her anguished expression striking a chord in his heart. “I just about tossed my cookies when that freakin’ cab pulled up in front of their house.”

“I should imagine,” Giles whispered hoarsely. “Such a betrayal ... even for Quentin, this is ... I would never have expected it.”

“See, I ... I’m not sure,” Faith tentatively disagreed. “There’s like, circumstances and stuff.”

“I heard them talking,” she began. “I went by the bathroom window off the living room and I could hear them real good.”

“So it turns out, they said they were here to help me,” she started speaking at a more rapid pace. “Like, emotionally and stuff. Like, the council hired them, or maybe just that Travers guy hired them ... anyway, they were here to make sure I didn’t, like, lose it and start doing the whole evil thing again, you know?”

“But the watcher-guy was all pissed and said they weren’t doing what he wanted, which was basically spying on me, I guess,” she explained with an unsure frown. “Anyway, he told them they had to go back to England and stuff, and they basically told him to piss off, ’cause they weren’t here to spy on me, but to, you know, help me and stuff.”

She picked up a cup of tea and stared down into the liquid, turning the cup round and round in her hand for a moment before continuing. “Then they were arguing some more and he was all, ‘What is it with these American slayers?’ ’cause he was pissed that you fell for Buffy — like in a father way,” she hastened to add. “And he was pissed ’cause they fell for me ... you know, as lovers,” her voice was so soft as to be almost unintelligible.

Faith remained silent for several moments, spinning the cup and staring into her tea.

Faith looked up at Joyce, then at him, with tears in her eyes as she answered, “Beth said that it didn’t matter that they fell in love with me, because it only made them even more qualified to help me.”

Joyce gasped. “Oh, Faith honey.” She reached out tentatively, grasping one of the slayer’s hands.

Giles raised his brows in surprise when Faith jerked slightly, but didn’t pull away from the consoling touch.

“Extraordinary,” Giles exhaled in amazement. “Do you think they were ... do you believe what was said?”

“I don’t know!” she exclaimed with a shrug and a helpless look on her face. “I mean, watcher-guy got so pissed that he fired them and threatened to get it back to me that they were working for the council ... why would he do that if it was all a setup?”

“But they lied to me!” she nearly shouted. “How am I supposed to trust them?”

‘Good Lord, how in blazes am I to answer that?’ he nearly shouted in his mind.

‘Ahh, straight to the heart of the matter as it were,’ he thought, happily deferring in matters of the heart to his lover.

“I don’t know!” Faith nearly cried. “I mean, how the hell would I even know what love looks like?”

‘Oh dear,’ Giles thought. ‘That poor girl ... I doubt she’s ever experienced love before. Bugger if I’d know how to explain it to her.’

To his surprise, Joyce smiled and answered readily. “Do you miss them when you aren’t around them? Do you feel better about things just by being in their presence? Does the idea of not having them in your life make you feel empty and hollow? Would you do anything and everything you could to make them happy?” She finished her litany of questions with her eyes locked on his.

‘Again I have to wonder how I managed to be so very blessed,’ Giles thought with moisture beginning to collect in his eyes.

Joyce turned her gaze back toward the slayer and her smile was warm and loving. “Love is all that and more, Faith. But if you feel those things toward them ... then I’d say yes, it’s a pretty good bet that you’re in love.”

“But — but—” Faith stammered, looking lost and bewildered. “They lied to me!” this time it was a quiet wail rather than a shout.

“And, unfortunately, it isn’t merely your heart at risk, though that would be difficult enough,” Giles said with a sigh. “I find it rather concerning that the council would take the step of sending someone to counsel you psychologically and yet not inform me, as your watcher, let alone deceiving you.” He shook his head sadly. “Certainly it would be counterproductive, simply from a counseling aspect, to deceive you in such a way ... and with Travers’ behavior, it seems doubtful that he was interested in actually helping you.”

“You shoulda seen the look in his eye when I said it’d be better to kill me than lock me up again,” Faith said gloomily.

“I only wish that I could say I’m surprised by this turn of events,” Giles admitted wearily. “It seems rather likely that his warning regarding the last abduction attempt was an effort to manipulate the situation to his advantage rather than his interest in your continued freedom.”

“Indeed,” Giles allowed. “The question now is what to do about Alex and Beth. If you — if *we* cannot trust them, then it bodes ill for all of us as a group.”

“You have to talk to them,” Joyce interjected suddenly. “Give them a chance to come clean,”

“Don’t think so,” Faith answered. “I mean, no way watcher-guy saw me following, and there’s no way they could have known I was outside ... unless they can see through walls and stuff,” she half-joked.

“I shouldn’t imagine they could,” Giles said, taking her comment more seriously. “Willow said that they were ... human....” Giles trailed off as a thought occurred to him. “Yes, of course!” he said, taking off his glasses and pinching his nose.

“What?” Faith asked impatiently when he paused, mentally kicking himself. “Come on G-man, share with the class!”

“Willow,” Giles said with a shake of his head. “If Alex and Beth are truly interested in regaining your trust, they will doubtless confess themselves to you at the earliest opportunity, lest you hear Quentin’s twisted version first.”

With a raised eyebrow at her vehemence, Giles explained, “A truth spell. Willow could easily compel the truth from someone.”

“I don’t know, man,” Faith began. “I’m not sure about using magic on them and stuff.”

“Well, we would of course need their permission, first,” he tried to reassure her. “While I have no doubt that a witch of Willow’s ability could compel the truth from someone against their will, I would be very hesitant to do so. Especially with a potential ally.”

“Faith?” Joyce asked. “What’s wrong? Wouldn’t that help you to trust them again?”

“If their intentions toward you are genuinely benevolent, surely they would leap at the opportunity,” Giles said, confused by her hesitance.

“Yeah, it’s just ... me and Red, we got ... um ... history, ya’ know?” she mumbled, avoiding eye contact with both him and Joyce.

“Ah,” he said with sudden understanding. “You don’t trust Willow using magic on your lovers.”

“I suppose we could ask Tara,” Giles offered. “She’s certainly quite capable—”

“Well, I’m not certain as to the issues you may have regarding Willow; however, I—” he started.

“No,” she again interrupted. “You’re right. Red’s the best, and the issues I got are pretty much my problem, not hers.”

‘I wonder what that’s all about,’ he thought, remaining silent as he had nothing immediately to add to the conversation.

“Besides, it’s like you said,” Faith said, her sudden cheerfulness clearly forced, at least in part. “If they’re the real deal, they’ll be happy to do it, right?”

“Yeah, so,” Faith paused, her expression one almost of dread. “I guess I’d better go talk to them, huh?”

“If I may ask, what are you thinking about?” Giles asked as he poured Joyce a fresh cup of tea.

“I don’t know, Rupert,” she answered with a deep sigh. “I have such mixed feelings about her.”

“Regarding this situation, or in general?” he asked as he handed her the cup.

‘I certainly shouldn’t be surprised,’ he thought as he nodded in response. ‘There are times when it can be easier to forgive, than to forget.’

“Sometimes I think about the life that poor girl has lived and I feel so sorry for her ... and so angry at the way she’s suffered,” she started.

“As your daughters would say, you have ‘but’ face,” he said with a grin.

She wrinkled her nose at him, but her lips quirked up into a smile. “*But*,” she dragged out the word. Her smile fell away as she continued though, “Other times I think about what she did to me ... what she did to Buffy. I think about the fight that put her in a coma and how she stole Buffy’s body. Not only that, but what she did with it after.”

He reached out and covered her knee with his hand, trying to silently comfort her.

He nodded in understanding. “I believe that she herself suffers from a not insignificant amount of self-hatred.”

“I can hardly hate her, despite the terrible things she’s done,” he started. “After all, I too am a member of the society of reformed villains seeking redemption.”

Joyce set her tea aside and reached out to stroke his cheek. “It’s hard to think of you as a villain.”

“I appreciate that, however, I certainly was one.” He took her hand in his own and turned his head and kissed her palm. “In my youth I was guilty of far more than Faith has ever done, and with far less excuse.”

“I must admit that I am concerned — quite concerned, in fact — with the revelation of the council’s ties to Faith’s paramours,” he added.

“Do you think that they’re dangerous?” she asked, sounding quite concerned.

Giles let go of her hand and sat back on the couch, sipping his tea while he considered the question. “Hmm, there is of course the concern as to their intentions toward Faith, and the damage they might do in that respect. However, I believe that the greater concern is the fact that the council — or at the minimum, Quentin himself — is interfering with her life.” He took another drink of his tea before elaborating, “Whether the goal was to control her, or disrupt her life for some reason ... or perhaps both.”

“Perhaps ... though if so, their method seems somewhat circuitous,” he offered. “It is possible, I suppose, that they are no more or less than they have claimed. However, it is clear, from Quentin’s behavior, that his intentions do not bode well. Not for her, and likely not for us as a group.”

He sighed heavily, thinking, ‘Bloody politics! Bloody pillock is more interested in politics and personal power than in saving the world from evil!’

“Power,” Giles responded automatically. “He may fancy himself to be looking out for the best interests of the world but, in the end, I don’t believe he truly cares about anything else. If he’s not the one running the show, then the world can just go hang itself.”

She snuggled up to his side and sighed. “I sure hope they’re what they say they are; for Faith’s sake.”

“Yes, well,” He further considered the situation for several moments. “Despite my somewhat knee-jerk reaction to doubt them, I would think that they probably are what they claim to be.”

“Yes, well, I am having a difficult time imagining that what Faith overheard was a performance for her sake.”

“I simply don’t see Quentin being clever enough to plan and execute such subterfuge,” he explained. “For all his continual attempts at manipulation and political maneuvering, he isn’t nearly as subtle as he believes. Also, of course, there is the question at to what point there might be to such a ruse.”

“That’s true,” she agreed. “If he’s trying to trick her, what is he trying to trick her into?”

“Also, it seems foolish to throw away such potentially effective infiltrators if they are indeed working towards his goals. Even should they regain Faith’s trust at this point, it is unlikely that they could remain effective agents ... anything the least bit suspicious in their behavior going forward would stand out like a flashing arrow.”

“We’d either catch them in the act, or use them to send back false information, right?” she asked.

“Yes, double agents and that sort of thing,” he replied with a smile. Sobering, he added, “Still, I shall rest much easier should they agree to a truth spell.”

They were both silent for a moment before Joyce whispered. “I wonder if she’s more afraid that they’ll refuse to do it, or agree.”

“What the—” he cried, panting in fear, his mind racing. “God, what a nightmare!”

His panting breaths began to even out after a moment. “Damn, it’s dark ... wait a minute,” he added as his surroundings began to register. “Am I on the floor?”

“Ow!” he cried as he tried to sit up and smacked his head hard. “Where am I?” he whispered in fear as his hands shot out at his sides and similarly struck hard surfaces.

“No ... no! It can’t ... I’m not....” He trailed off as realization set in.

‘Not a dream!’ his mind informed him as terror flooded through him. He screamed and began to flail about, bruising his hands and feet against his unyielding surroundings.

“Help! Help! Somebody help me!” he shouted as he scrabbled against the surface above him, tearing his nails as he looked for something, anything to help him escape.

A particularly hard push against the ceiling of his claustrophobic surroundings caused whatever he was laying on to move in the direction of his head, and his whole body stilled.

“What the hell?” he muttered, suddenly calmer, though his heart continued to race and his pulse pounded in his ears. Tentatively, he pushed against the sides of his prison, and again the floor moved several inches, coming to a stop with a metallic clunk. “What kind of coffin has a rolling floor?” he whispered to himself.

With that question came other realizations. “I’m naked ... under a sheet,” he realized. “They don’t bury people naked ... at least I don’t think so?” He reached down to his sides, feeling around.

‘It’s some kind of ... like a tray? Wait a minute ... tray ... I know this.’ he thought. “Come on, brain, work!”

‘Morgue!’ his mind shouted with joy as his hands reached past his head and gave a mighty shove.

“Oh thank God!” he sobbed when the morgue drawer popped open, sounding like the door to a refrigerator. Quickly he scrambled out of the cold opening, falling awkwardly to the floor. He ignored the discomfort of his bruised limbs and curled up hugging his knees to his chest and weeping with relief.

“Not dead! Oh, thank you!” he chanted softly for a few moments, rocking back and forth.

“Why am I not dead?” he asked a minute later as he composed himself sufficiently to stand up. “Definitely remember getting shot ... wouldn’t have put me in a morgue drawer if I’d been alive, would they?” He quickly reached his fingers to his neck and felt for his pulse. “Heart beating ... really fast, but definitely beating!” he said thankfully. “So, not dead ... but I must have been.”

He reached behind him, feeling his back. “No holes.” He looked back at the drawer tray he’d recently occupied. “I was definitely bleeding at some point,” he thought aloud, seeing the stained sheet and red-coated metal. Noticing a lump under the sheet, he flipped it back and gasped at the sight. “Bullets ... they really shot me!”

He picked one up and looked closely at it, seeing blood and bits of meat sticking to the part where the copper was coming away from the lead. A wave of nausea hit him and he dropped the slug, frantically looking for somewhere other than the floor to empty his stomach. He just made it to a sink along the opposite wall before retching.

A minute later he was leaning over the sink, trying to calm his breathing and to keep from another bout of dry heaves. ‘What’s happening to me ... I should be dead! I mean, I’m glad I’m not; but how? Why?’ his mind whirled. ‘No way Dawn’s got enough mojo to bring me back, does she? And if she did, where is she?’

“Think, Xander, think!” he commanded himself. “Can’t have been very long ago, or I wouldn’t still be in the cooler ... I guess it’s a good thing they didn’t start the autopsy right away!”

‘Oh no ... Dawn!’ his mind shied away from the image of his narrowly-escaped autopsy and stuck on another horror. ‘She watched me die!’

“Please let her be okay!” he offered up a desperate prayer. “I gotta get out of here, I—” his attention locked onto a paper sack on the counter next to him. “DB, Harris, Alexander L. Personal effects,” he read the attached label. “DB ... that’s gotta be dead body. Great, now I can’t tease Angel about being Dead Boy anymore,” the non sequitur spilled out unintentionally.

He grabbed the bag and tore it open, dumping the contents on the counter. “Crap! I can’t wear that!” he groused upon seeing his shirt, matted with dried blood. “At least everything else is ... Yes! Wallet with cards and hotel key still in it! Now if I can just....” He trailed off, simultaneously starting to get dressed and looking around for anything that might replace his destroyed shirt.

‘Lab coat,’ he thought spying the very thing. ‘No, that’s not gonna be real obvious.’ He finished pulling on his pants and tucking away his wallet, cross, stake and mini-squirt gun with holy water. ‘I bet that confused ’em!’ he thought with a slight grin.

“Maybe I can tuck it in?” he wondered aloud, returning his attention to the coat. “It’s not like I’ve got a lot of options here; I just gotta get out of here and get to Dawn!”

‘That poor girl ... she’s so young ... to lose her lover like that,’ Sara Sidle mused sympathetically as she approached the hallway leading to the morgue and the autopsy bay.

‘She seemed so broken, but like she was putting up this tough exterior. I still can’t believe she knocked Iverson out with one punch!’ She couldn’t help the smile that formed on her lips at that thought.

She was startled out of her thoughts as the Medical Examiner’s voice sounded out from behind, “I haven’t started the post on your shooting vic yet.”

Doctor Al Robbins gave her a disbelieving look and then glanced down at his metal cane and prosthetic limbs.

‘Damn,’ Sara thought, her face hot with embarrassment. “Sorry, sorry ... guess I was distracted.” She muttered.

“Stealth is not an attribute that I’m normally associated with these days,” he offered with a wry grin.

“So, you haven’t started the autopsy?” she asked in a rather lame attempt to change the subject.

They started again toward the autopsy bay as the doctor answered. “No, though I did look him over as David was preparing the body. It seems pretty straightforward.”

“And he has several obvious gunshots in the back,” the doctor interjected. “Of course, we won’t know for sure until we open him up and recover the bullets, but it seems pretty straightforward. I don’t expect any surprises.”

She smiled at him and teased, “Well, they wouldn’t be surprises if you expected them.”

He shot her a moderate glare before opening the door to the bay and gesturing for her to precede him.

“David’s not back yet,” the doctor observed. “We’ll have to wait a minute to move the vic to the table.”

“Amazing that he was the only one hit, especially with every witness agreeing that the gunfire was from a full-auto weapon,” she commented as she went to open the drawer.

“No,” he corrected. “Strange that it looks like someone opened the bag with the vic’s personal effects, and took everything out but left the bag behind.”

Just then Sara opened the drawer. “Huh,” she grunted. “You think that’s strange?”

She heard him make his way as quickly as he could toward her while she pulled out the drawer.

She looked down at the nearly empty drawer, its only contents some dried blood and a handful of deformed bullets. Then she looked up at the doctor to see a profoundly annoyed look on his face. ‘I shouldn’t ... but I can’t resist,’ she thought mischievously.

‘This is never gonna work. Someone’s gonna notice you’re wearing a freaking lab jacket! What are they going to do? Can you get in trouble for being in the morgue and not being dead? Would they shoot me again and put me back in the drawer?’ Xander’s thoughts were threatening to spin out of control as he walked down the hall, head hanging and eyes locked on the floor.

‘Nobody look at the slightly crazy man,’ he thought, as though trying to project a field of invisibility. ‘Move along. Nothing to see here. Certainly not a recent corpse walking around in a lab coat!’

“Whoa, you alright, man?” a baritone voice sounded out more with concern than annoyance.

A quick glance showed him a tall, lanky black man. ‘Whoa, nice afro,’ the non sequitur popped into his head. “Uh ... sorry,” he muttered in response to the questioning look.

His heart sped up when he saw the official card identifying this person as a crime scene investigator. ‘Damn, I hope he didn’t investigate my crime scene,’ he thought. “Uh, just trying to ... um ... get the hell out of here,” he said quietly, his panic rising at his inability to come up with any plausible story.

The man looked behind Xander toward the morgue he’d just left and his eyes took on a sympathetic look. “You were just in the morgue?” he asked quietly.

‘Crap!’ his brain froze. Unfortunately his head nodded up and down, apparently not noticing his mind’s desperate desire to lie.

The man nodded back and said, “Look,” he pointed down the hall to Xander’s left. “Down that hall to the end, take a right, it’ll take you right out to the parking lot, okay?”

“Yeah,” Xander nodded again, feeling sweat running down his back. “Uh, thanks,” he mumbled and then turned to follow the man’s instructions.

Xander just nodded as he thought, ‘Don’t run, don’t run, walk normally, don’t run.’

“Hey, Grissom?” Sara said, somewhat agitated as she swept into her supervisor’s office.

“What is it, Sara?” he asked, looking up from his paperwork and staring at her over the top of his reading glasses.

‘God, he looks sexy like that,’ she stood there silently for a moment, considering the man on whom she harbored a major crush.

“Sara?” he prompted, continuing to stare at her, his eyebrows raising at her silence.

“Um ... oh,” she shook herself out of her momentary reverie. “There’s a problem with the body in the Fairmont Street shooting,” she said, getting back to the subject she’d meant to bring up.

“Well ... what’s the problem?” he questioned when she didn’t immediately elaborate.

‘I can almost see the wheels turning already,’ Sara thought with a tiny smile. “Yeah, but that’s not the weird part,” she added, eliciting another eyebrow-raised, questioning look.

“The body is missing, but that’s *not* the weird part,” he parroted, clearly intrigued.

He took off his glasses and his mouth twitched into the barest beginning of a smile. “And, pray tell, what is the weird part?”

Her own mouth stretched into a wide smile. ‘He looks like a little boy, sometimes. An excited little boy,’ she silently observed, feeling her breath catch just a bit with a flush of desire.

“Well,” she began. “The body is gone, but the sheet he was wrapped in, along with a fair amount of blood ... and several deformed bullets were left behind.

‘Aha!’ You thought you had the answer right up till the end there, didn’t you?’ she thought as his face registered surprise.

“Bullets,” he fairly jumped on the word. “As in, the bullets that were previously *in* the body?”

“Uh huh,” she answered. “And, the bag with his personal effects was torn open and the contents missing,” she added.

“Bodies don’t just get up and walk away after being shot dead,” he said almost as though he expected her to contradict him.

“Well,” he began. “We need to verify that they are the bullets from the victim.”

“Doctor Robbins is sending blood and tissue from the bullets to match with the samples Catherine and I collected at the scene,” Sara informed him.

“To see if someone ‘misplaced’ the body,” she interrupted. “Of course.”

“Well, it’s definitely a mystery,” he said, his voice more eager than annoyed.

His head tilted slightly to the side as he responded, “But you did find out something.”

“Yeah, more weird, though,” she answered. “You’re going to love this: we found the vic’s bloody shirt in the trash.”

Her smile grew even wider. “And, Doc Robbins seems to have, um, misplaced his lab coat.”

“Well, he says he’s absolutely sure he left it hanging on the back of the door,” she started.

“I know, I know,” she replied defensively. “Dead bodies don’t get up and walk out of the morgue on their own ... but someone’s putting a lot of effort into making it look like this one did.”

He looked taken aback. “Do you think someone is playing an elaborate practical joke?”

‘I hadn’t thought of that myself,’ she pondered the question for a moment. “I don’t think so,” she offered with a slight shake of the head. “No one that works here would interfere with a case like this, plus the lack of respect for the victim and his family ... I gotta tell you, I don’t want to have to be the one that explains to his girlfriend that we lost his body.”

“It’s interesting that you would say that,” he said with a frown. “Why not?”

“Well, beyond the obvious, that it makes us look incompetent,” he explained.

“Are you kidding me?” she asked, surprised. “Didn’t you hear about what happened at the scene?”

“I guess she was still doing CPR and they couldn’t get her to stop, so Iverson grabbed her and pulled her away.”

“I didn’t hear about that,” he continued, startling her out of her daydream. “he didn’t arrest her?”

“Huh? Oh, no,” she said, refocusing on the discussion at hand. “No, as Brass described it, he was ... busy,” she paused for effect, waiting until he inhaled to ask the question. “Being unconscious.”

This time the smile that formed on his face was broad. “She sounds like a fascinating young lady.”

“I mean, more so than most ... you know, not in an overly-dramatic, ‘crying, screaming fit’ kind of way,” she tried to explain her thoughts without fully understanding them herself. “She just seemed ... lost. So empty.”

“Yeah, except she could speak just fine. No lack of awareness of her surroundings or situation, she didn’t act confused or disoriented. It was just ... when someone wasn’t directly asking her a question she would, I don’t know ... it’s like she would just shut down ... turn off.”

‘Like a piece of her was missing,’ she carefully didn’t say aloud, not wanting to seem like she was overly empathizing.

He tilted his head and frowned slightly. “You’re worried about her. Something about this case is getting to you,” he posed the query.

She shook her head and forced a smile. “No, I’ve just never seen anyone react quite the same way she did.”

“Warrick,” Grissom acknowledged, his eyes leaving hers with a look of reluctance.

‘Thank goodness for that,’ she thought with an almost audible sigh of relief.

More than willing to put up with a little teasing if it meant avoiding a particular conversation with her boss, Sara turned and said, “Yeah, a vic’s body disappeared. Maybe someone’s idea of a bad joke?”

“So you don’t think he got up and walked away?” Warrick asked, the teasing note growing.

“Who knows?” she asked, playing along. “See anyone who looks like this?” she asked, opening the file and pulling out the victim’s picture.

Warrick was smirking at her when he took the proffered photo, but the smirk immediately died away as he looked at it. “You’re kidding, right?” he asked, disbelievingly. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”

“Look,” Warrick started. “It was a nice try; setup was good, but your delivery sucks,”

“What are you talking about?” Sara asked with a weird feeling forming in her stomach.

“I just talked to this guy, like five minutes ago,” he said, his tone no longer teasing, but rather like he was bursting their bubble with his comment.

“Not possible,” she said. ‘All fun aside, there is no way that guy got up and walked out of the morgue!’ she thought, the weird feeling in her stomach turning into a cold shiver running through her body. ‘It’s just not possible!’

“Twin brother?” the tall black man asked, his face indicating he still thought it might be a joke, or at least a misunderstanding.

“No, his girlfriend is the only one here ... any family’s in California,” Sara answered. “You’re sure that this is the guy you saw?”

He again considered the photo and then said, “I’m sure. I just talked to him!”

Warrick shook his head and looked upward as if trying to remember the encounter. “I was walking from DNA, came around the corner and this guy walked right into me. He looked lost and pretty shaken up. I asked him if he was alright, and then I asked him if I could help him with something, and he said he was trying to find his way out.”

“Yeah, he looked pretty shook up, kinda lost,” Warrick went on. “I asked him if he’d just come from the morgue. I thought maybe he’d just had to identify someone, you know, close. He had that kind of look on his face. So, I pointed the way out.” He ended his explanation with a shrug.

“This can’t be the same guy,” Sara said, feeling bewildered. “He was shot multiple times and bled out on the sidewalk. I’m talking bled out: there had to be six or seven pints on the concrete ... I think his girlfriend kinda pumped him out with all the CPR....” She trailed off. ‘God, how horrible,’ she thought, feeling again a sympathetic pang for the pretty young brunette.

“If he went out the front, we should have him on the surveillance cameras, shouldn’t we?” Grissom asked.

‘God, how stupid am I?’ Sara kicked herself silently at the quizzical look on his face.

Anything she might have said was cut off when Grissom’s cell phone started to ring.

“Catherine,” he mumbled as he looked at the caller-ID on his phone. Opening it, he answered, “Yes ... what? Catherine, calm down—”

He jerked his head away from the phone and Sara could hear a loudly shouted “Just get here!” from the earpiece of the phone.

“Catherine ... hello? Hello?” he looked at the phone as if stunned. “She hung up.”

“I don’t know,” he said, still wearing a surprised look on his face. “She said something impossible happened and that she needed to see me right now.”

“She’s at the Monte Carlo, suite fifty-one-oh-seven,” he answered, standing up. “You check the tape, see if our victim is the same as Warrick’s lost soul.”

“I’m going with you,” she argued, her tone brooking no argument. She unconsciously reached back to touch the gun on her belt under her jean-jacket.

“That’s where our shooting vic and his girlfriend were staying,” she said, answering his silent question.

“I’ll pull the tape, have AVI go over it and the photos from the scene,” Warrick interjected. “Just to verify that it’s *not* the same guy,” his tone made it clear that he wasn’t about to embrace any thoughts of this being something other than coincidence.

“Ow!” Dawn moaned in pain as she returned to consciousness. ‘Oh, major headache,’ she thought as she sat upright and opened her eyes.

“What did you do?” A strangled voice with a strong note of panic in it hit Dawn’s ears, causing her to cringe in pain.

“Shh! Not so loud,” she whined, looking up at the source of the question. ‘Oh God!’ the pain in her head was forgotten as a giant crashing wave of despair slammed into her. Memories of who the older redhead was, and why she was there served to remind her of her situation. ‘Xander’s dead,’ she began to cry silently.

“What did you do?” the redheaded CSI investigator’s voice was a hoarse whisper.

‘Why is her gun out ... oh crap!’ Dawn’s head whipped around looking for their assailant. “Oh God!” she grunted, both at the pain from moving her head so fast and at the sight of the man who killed her lover.

He lay on the floor almost as though sleeping. Any idea of restful peace, however, was shattered by the look on his face: eyes and mouth were stretched open as if screaming, but all that remained therein were open pits of charred ruination.

The image, along with the sudden scent of burned flesh sent Dawn stumbling toward the bathroom.

‘Holy crap, I killed him!’ she thought as she knelt to empty her stomach into the toilet. As she sat there though, her nausea subsided. ‘I killed him,’ she again thought, waiting for the horror to come.

“I’m glad I killed him,” she whispered, realizing the truth of it. ‘He killed Xander; I’m glad I killed the son-of-a-bitch!’

She rolled her head from shoulder to shoulder, wincing at the pain. ‘Damn, my head hurts!’ she thought. ‘I wonder why?’

She stood up and rummaged through her ditty-bag for some ibuprofen. ‘Okay, so he’s dead, and I’m not sad about it ... but the cop-chick saw me do it,’ she began to ponder her immediate problem as she filled a glass with water and washed down four of the little brown pills. Thinking about this issue allowed her to ignore for the moment the overwhelming sadness that thinking about Xander brought.

“What did she see really?” she whispered to herself. ‘It’s not like she’s going to believe in magic ... but she definitely seems to think that, whatever happened, I’m responsible for it.’

She looked into her eyes in the mirror, still a bit surprised at her lack of feeling. A knock at the suite’s door caused a pang of fear. ‘She must have called the cops ... of course she did; she’s a cop. It’s not like she can just ignore this. But what could they arrest me for? It looks like I burned him up from the inside ... I never imagined I could do something like that!’

She felt no pride, or sense of accomplishment, any more than she felt guilt or sorrow. “I’m not a monster,” she told herself. “It was totally self-defense.”

‘Okay, mostly vengeance ... that bastard killed Xander!’ Again tears started to leak from her eyes. ‘I can’t believe he’s dead ... my sugar bear!’

She put down the toilet lid and sat down, not caring about the cops in the outer room, she sat and wept.

‘Way to start a conversation,’ Sara thought as she followed her supervisor into the suite at the Monte Carlo. “Whoa, that smells familiar,” she muttered. ‘Never forget the smell of charred flesh.’

“You found a body?” Grissom asked, apparently seeing the corpse lying across the room. “Why didn’t you call it in?”

“I didn’t *find* the body, Gil!” Catherine’s voice was brittle and angry. “Jesus, don’t you think I would have called it in if we just walked in here and found a body?”

Despite the apparent gravity of the situation, Sara couldn’t help but grin as she watched Grissom’s head move back and forth from the body to Catherine several times.

Sara walked over to get a closer look. ‘Doesn’t look burned,’ she thought as she approached.

“Well, maybe if you’d let me explain, instead of coming in here and jumping down my throat!” Catherine groused at the befuddled male CSI head.

‘Oh, that’s infuriating,’ Sara thought in sympathy for her female counterpart. ‘I hate it when he gets that patronizing tone of voice.’

“I ... you ... Argh!” Catherine sputtered and then growled. “Sometimes you ... never mind!”

“Holy cow!” Sara exclaimed when she saw the eyes and mouth on the corpse. She took out a penlight from her jacket pocket and shined it into the burned-out orifices. ‘What could have caused that?’ she wondered, ignoring the gross-out factor in favor of curiosity.

Sara looked up as Grissom immediately turned away from Catherine and hurried to her side. “Fascinating!” he sighed as he took in the view.

“What happened?” Sara asked, making eye contact with Catherine in hopes of breaking the tension before her supervisor’s behavior once again set off the fiery redhead.

“I brought our shooting vic’s girlfriend back here from the station and just after we walked in, he,” she pointed toward the body on the floor, “came out from there,” she pointed at the doors to the bedroom.

Sara looked in the indicated direction and then kicked herself as she noticed the submachine gun lying on the floor. ‘Damn, how did I not notice that?’

‘If she did, where’s the blood?’ Sara wondered. ‘And that doesn’t explain the eyes and mouth.’

“No,” Catherine answered. “I couldn’t even draw my weapon, he had that sub pointed right at me ... muttered something about charging extra for a cop.”

‘Oh my God,’ Sara thought in sympathy when she saw Catherine shudder at the memory.

“Then the girl, Dawn, accused him of killing her boyfriend. Apparently, our vic wasn’t the target, because he said something about him just getting in the way ... then he said she’d join him in a minute,” Catherine paused, staring silently at the body for a moment, then her eyes moved up to the closed door to Sara’s left. “She screamed at him ... then he started screaming ... then they both collapsed.”

“No,” Catherine’s voice was markedly quieter as she went on. “No, I checked ... she was just unconscious, but he ... dead. And, um ... hot. Hot to the touch, I mean,” she muttered.

“She’s in there?” Sara asked, gesturing toward the door that had captured Catherine’s attention.

“She did that!” the redhead hissed as she pointed to the body. “I wasn’t going in there until you got here.”

“She did ... what exactly did she do?” Grissom asked in a questioning voice that clearly conveyed disbelief.

“I ... I ... something!” the redhead’s glare was fierce. “She screamed at him and suddenly he’s ... it’s like she burned him up from the inside ... somehow....” She trailed off with a blush.

‘Uh oh,’ Sara thought. ‘Now he sounds like he’s trying to humor a crazy person.’

“You can’t believe that. You have to know that what you’re saying isn’t possible,” Grissom explained slowly. “How could she possibly have done what you’re accusing her of doing?”

For a moment, the redhead looked like she might explode with rage, but then she deflated. She walked over to one of the ornate, overstuffed couches and collapsed onto it. “I don’t know,” she admitted with a weary headshake. “You think I don’t know how crazy this all sounds? But, I saw it happen! I felt ... I don’t know ... something. It was like this deep chill ran through me ... Jesus, there was smoke coming out of his damned eye sockets!”

Just as Grissom looked like he was about to start with the questions, Sara interrupted. “Shouldn’t we get the girl out of there? I mean, I’m not entirely comfortable with this whole situation, especially with wondering what she might be doing in there.”

“Shouldn’t we get the girl out of there? I mean, I’m not entirely comfortable with this whole situation, especially with wondering what she might be doing in there.”

Dawn snorted when she heard that. “The girl ... nice,” she groused. “God, I just want this day over ... I still can’t believe he’s gone.”

She blinked back the tears that threatened to once again overflow her eyes. ‘Just go out there, get this over with, and try to sleep,’ she thought resignedly. ‘Tomorrow I’ll call Buffy ... tomorrow I’ll try to figure out what I’m going to do ... how I’m going to go on without him.’

She ran cold water in the sink, splashing her face to wash away the fresh tears. Then she toweled off and went to the door.

‘Sounds like some of my teachers,’ Dawn thought of the admonitory tone the man took with the redhead.

They were all facing away from Dawn, so she shrugged and took a seat on the sofa. ‘Under other circumstances, this would probably be interesting,’ she thought with a tired sigh.

“We treat this like any other death with questionable circumstances,” the man continued punctiliously.

‘I’d probably be embarrassed by that,’ Dawn thought as she noted the fear in Catherine’s eyes. ‘If I had the energy to care.’

“Ms. Summers, my name is Gil Grissom,” the man said after a pause. “I think you’ve met Sara and Catherine?” he asked, gesturing toward each in turn.

“Look, normally I try not to be rude,” Dawn interjected. “But, I’m in the middle of having the crappiest night of my entire life and I *really* don’t have the energy right now. So if you could just hurry it up and do what you need to do — and then leave — I’d really appreciate it.”

‘Still nothing,’ she thought as she glanced over toward the corpse on the floor. ‘I wonder if I should be worried? Does that make me a sociopath or something?’

Turning her attention back to the trio of investigators, she added, “Oh, and if you could take that thing with you, that’d be great.”

“That ... that thing?” Catherine sputtered, sounding outraged. “That’s a human being and you killed him, you little—”

‘Boy, now I’m feeling something,’ Dawn thought as her stomach churned in rage.

“And, as I remember it, that *thing* was about to kill you and me both!” she growled in a slightly quieter voice. “So, why don’t you back off a little bit on the attitude, okay?”

“Okay, everyone,” Grissom broke in, hands raised in a universal ‘calm down’ gesture. “Let’s take it easy here for a minute, alright?”

“Well, he had the gun pointed at me, told me I was about to join Xander — who he killed — and started to pull the trigger ... yeah, I felt pretty threatened,” Dawn said sarcastically.

‘Jeez, Summers ... bitchy much?’ she thought, a little surprised at her own behavior.

“I....” She trailed off, wondering, ‘How do I explain this? Should I even try?’

“Of course it matters,” Sara said. “Cause of death is a huge part of resolving a case.”

Dawn shook her head and sighed. ‘They’re never going to believe me ... God, I’m so tired, I wish they’d just leave already.’

“Do you seriously expect us to believe you killed this man, using magic?” Sara pressed.

Dawn chuckled humorlessly. “No,” she replied, slightly exasperated. “No, I expect you to think I’m crazy, that the sorrow of losing my lover has driven me over the edge.” Turning to Grissom, she continued, “You, I expect will go to great lengths to figure out what really killed him, doing your best to prove that there’s no such thing as magic, ’cause that would destroy your whole little world where everything can be explained by science.”

Turning to Catherine, Dawn added, “You ... you believe me, and it scares the crap out of you. But, you’ll probably never admit it. For sure, not to these two, and probably not even to yourself.”

‘This would be funny if it wasn’t for the fact that I’ll probably never laugh at anything ever again,’ she thought as all three gaped at her.

“So, could you please hurry this up and get the hell out of my room? I’m really tired and, if you couldn’t already tell, I’m starting to get really cranky.”

“I hope she’s here,” Xander whispered to himself as the cab he’d taken back to the Monte Carlo pulled away. ‘Thank God I had enough cash to get here,’ he thought. ‘It would have taken me hours to walk.’

Self consciously rubbing his hands over the white lab coat that was uncomfortably tucked into his jeans, he walked into the casino and began to make his way back to the elevators.

‘Crap!’ he flinched hard as one of the slot machines near him began to pay off a win, dropping the coins into the metal container with a cadence that was too reminiscent of gunfire.

‘Take it easy, Xan,’ he told himself. ‘Once again, it’s time to ignore the weirdness that is my life and try to pretend everything’s alright.’

He started to become more and more antsy as the elevator rose to the fifty-first floor. “Please be there, please be there,” he muttered to himself, tapping his fingers on the wall of the elevator behind him.

When the elevator doors finally opened, he found himself jogging down the hall to his room. “Come on, come on!” he grumbled at his shaking hands as he tried to pull the key card out of his wallet and insert it into the door lock.

“Magic isn’t real,” a female voice said with enough volume that Xander heard it through the door.

‘Well, that means she’s probably in there,’ Xander thought, pausing for a moment. ‘But she’s definitely not alone.’

“Do you realize what an incredibly stupid thing that is to say?” Dawn’s voice was clearly very annoyed with whomever she was speaking. “Either I’ve lost it — in which case you’re not going to convince me of anything — or I’m right, and you’re basically standing there telling me gravity isn’t real.”

‘Hoo boy, she is pissed!’ Xander thought with a snicker, momentarily forgetting the gravity of the entire situation as he listened to his lover verbally shred someone.

‘I probably should wait until ... No way. I gotta see Dawn right freaking now!’ his brain vacillated only for a moment, but his body was way ahead of him as he slipped the key card in and opened the door.

“I bet people just like you thought Einstein was crazy when he — Xander?” Dawn’s rant turned into a gasped cry as she turned toward him.

“Dawn!” he answered with a loud exhale, drinking in the sight of her as though he’d not seen her in months.

“But you died,” Dawn’s incredulous cry elicited a sharp pang in his chest.

“No,” he cut her off, pulling out his cross and holding it so that she could see it clearly.

“Oh God, Xander!” she cried, now sounding joyous as she practically leapt across the room into his arms.

“Love you, Dawn!” he gasped before leaning down to meet her in a torrid kiss.

He barely noticed the sudden green glow surrounding them as his eyes slipped shut.

“Hey, you two. Lunch is ready,” Willow called out when she heard the door to the courtyard open and close. She picked up a tray of fruit in one hand and one of sandwiches with her other hand, then walked into the dining room.

“Mmm, looks delicious, sweetie,” Tara said with a smile as Willow set down her trays. “Thank you for making lunch.”

“Of course!” Willow answered happily. Then she turned her attention to her other lover and her heart immediately went out to her. ‘Aww, she’s been crying,’ Willow thought, immediately walking over and wrapping the slayer in a tight embrace. A moment later, she felt Tara’s arms surround them both.

“Well, I’m feeling bad about the whole, you know, the freaking thing ... but at the same time, the moment you two hugged me I felt this ... I dunno....” She trailed off uncertainly.

“Joy,” Willow said simply, pulling back into a loose embrace so that she could better see her lovers.

“Is there something wrong with us?” Buffy asked, though the glowing smile on her face belied the concern of her question.

“But the part where you’re the only one feeling the badness does,” Tara said, the resignation warring with the joy in her voice.

‘Oh, she’s upset ’cause she’s the only one with the separation anxiety thing,’ Willow realized.

“Ignore me,” Buffy said, giving her head a little shake. “Let not mopey Buffy bring down the happy!” A loud grumble from the slayer’s stomach punctuated her proclamation.

“Come on, let’s feed that hungry tummy!” Willow said, her happy mood restored. ‘Then we can get back to figuring out what’s making you go through all this pain.’

Willow was leaning back in her chair, watching her lovers finish eating their fruit. ‘Mmm, yummy!’ she thought as she enjoyed the sight of Buffy eating a plum. ‘I’m so glad I was able to find some nice, ripe, juicy ones.’

Willow saw Buffy’s eyes slip her way and a slight smirk came over the slayer’s face. Her next bite was slow and exaggerated, followed by her loudly slurping at the ripe juices that burst forth.

‘Mmm, now my juices are flowing too!’ Willow thought, not unhappily. ‘No doubt just what my vixeny mistress intended!’ She smiled, basking in the glow of happiness and arousal. She turned her attention to her other lover and was surprised not to find her also engaged in a bout of sexy slayer-watching. “You’ve got frowny face,” she observed.

“You were frowning,” Willow repeated, glancing toward Buffy to see her nodding in agreement.

“Well, I was thinking about what we talked about earlier, how you are the only one that’s having the anxiety issues,” Tara answered, looking as though she were still pondering the situation even as she spoke.

“No,” Tara crooned sympathetically. “No, sweetie, that’s not what I meant at all.

‘Aww, Buffy,’ Willow thought sadly. ‘I’m sure Tara didn’t mean it like that, but she still looks all upset.’

“Huh?” Buffy grunted; apparently startled out of her self-pity for a moment.

Tara sighed and gave the slayer a wan smile. “We seem to have developed a bond recently ... the thing that’s making us all feel this deep-seated joy in each other’s presence.”

‘It’s amazing!’ Willow thought in agreement while Buffy too nodded her concurrence.

“If the dread that you’ve been feeling was a result of that bond, or the fear of losing it, then we should all be feeling it,” Tara continued.

“That’s right,” the blonde witch agreed. “So, I thought it probably means that your feeling isn’t something inherent to the bond, and that means it probably has to be some kind of outside influence.”

“You think someone cast a spell?” Willow asked, following Tara’s line of thought.

Now it was Willow’s turn to frown. “Why just on Buffy though?” she wondered aloud. “Wouldn’t something like that affect all of us?”

‘So, what’s different about you and me from Buffy?’ Willow’s mind raced. “The cleansing ritual!” she blurted out a moment later. “Argh! I’m such an idiot! Why didn’t I think of that right away?” she lamented.

“Oh!” Tara gasped. “You could be right, I hadn’t thought that far yet,” she added excitedly.

“Uh,” Buffy interjected, raising her hand slightly. “For those of us in the caboose of the realization train?”

“Usually, before any kind of major casting, we do a ritual cleansing,” Tara explained. “If this is something like a spell or a curse or something, something that *should* have affected us all—”

“It might be that the cleansing ritual stopped it, or kept it from affecting us in the first place!” Willow elatedly finished the thought.

“So ... you think we could do this clean-up mojo on me and I’d stop with the panic attacks?” Buffy asked, a mixture of doubt and hopefulness in her tone.

“Is it, like hard to do?” Buffy asked. “I don’t have to be a witch or anything, do I? ’Cause, you know, I’m not very good with the mojo-making ... I’m more with the kicking and punching, than the chanting and conjuring,” she babbled nervously.

Buffy looked back and forth between the two witches for a moment, then shrugged her shoulders. “Okay, I’m in,” she said with a casualness that was belied by her apparent nervousness.

“It’s okay,” Tara said reassuringly. “All you have to do is stand there and let us perform the ritual.”

“Just stand there,” Buffy mused as they all got up from the table. “I think I can handle that.”

“Oh, well....” Willow trailed off, a lascivious look appearing on her face as she pictured the upcoming ritual. “You do have to be naked.”

Tara giggled as Buffy answered, “Naked with my witchy lovers? So not a problem, Wil!”

Buffy shivered slightly as she stood before her lovers, naked as the day she was born. ‘Normally, I don’t mind being the center of attention,’ she thought with some trepidation.

“Total opposite,” Buffy answered softly, feeling the heat of the witches’ gazes upon her bare flesh.

“Nervous?” Willow looked up from the bowl in which she was grinding some dried leaves and seeds into some oil to form a thin paste.

“A little,” she told a half truth, the butterflies in her stomach having been overtaken by much larger flying creatures.

“There’s nothing to worry about, I promise,” Willow said with a reassuring smile.

“I trust you,” Buffy answered with certainty. ‘Still a little nervous about being the center of the mojo-attention.’

“Flamare,” Tara spoke in a low voice and Buffy started a bit as all the candles in the room ignited.

Willow silently held out the bowl as she stood just to Buffy’s right side. ‘A more beautiful side table I’ve never seen.’ Buffy’s mind brought forth the silly sentiment as she took in her pet’s pale, luminous body.

Tara stepped in front of her, stopping just short of their breasts touching ... much to Buffy’s disappointment.

“Just stand still, and don’t speak,” Tara said with a touch of mistress tone in her voice.

Tara reached into Willow’s bowl and then reached behind Buffy and rubbed a gentle circle at the base of her spine. “Laxare ... Purusum ... Repurgare ... Exonero,” she intoned softly.

‘Ooh, warm!’ Buffy thought as heat spread from the area Tara touched. The heat traveled across her lower back and down her legs, and she shut her eyes at the pleasant sensation.

‘Oh God!’ Panic set in as a surge of cold seemed to come from nowhere, rising up in her chest as though fleeing the heat of Tara’s touch.

She tried to speak when her lover’s fingers began to rub at the base of her throat, just above and between her collarbones.

Buffy didn’t hear the fourth word of the chant as she was suddenly bent in half and retching worse than the time where she’d somehow gotten into a tequila drinking contest with a couple of Riley’s Initiative buddies. ‘I think I’m turning inside out!’ The thought struck her as she heaved and heaved. Finally something came out, like icy cold air, and through her squinted eyes, Buffy saw a cloud of inky-black smoke pour out of her mouth.

“Restinguere!” Tara exclaimed, reaching out with her non-oily hand toward the malevolent-looking cloud.

“Ahhh!” Buffy half-sighed, half-moaned and then straightened back upright. ‘God! I feel like I could just float away!’ she thought, the relief flooding her mind and body was so intense.

Almost as though the entire incident hadn’t even happened, Tara dipped her fingers into Willow’s bowl and anointed Buffy’s forehead just above and between her brows.

‘Oooh,’ it was all Buffy could do to remain silent as her face flooded with warmth.

One more time Tara’s fingers dipped into the oil and then landed on the top of Buffy’s head, moving through her hair to rub on her scalp.

“Mmm,” Buffy hummed softly as her head filled with the pleasurable warmth that already filled the rest of her body. ‘Feels like right after I just had a giant orgasm!’ she thought joyfully.

It didn’t even startle her when she found herself collapsing bonelessly into Tara’s ready embrace.

Willow’s giggle brought a smile to Buffy’s face. “How are you feeling?” the redhead asked sounding giddy.

“Like you just set off the ‘Buffy rocket to paradise,’” she mumbled through her lassitude.

Her feeling of contentment only increased as she felt Willow join the embrace from behind. “So, you think it worked?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” Buffy agreed, surprisingly feeling no stress over the issue. “You think that was the thing that was making me freak out?”

“Well, we can try and see how you feel later, right now I’m pretty comfortable right here,” Tara said with a definite note of satisfaction.

They stood silently for a moment before Buffy said, “I can totally see why you guys do this ritual thingy.”

“Yep, the cleansing ritual is definitely one of the nicest parts of our magic-sessions!” Willow gushed.

A thought struck her after a moment. “Hey, wait a minute!” she demanded. “You guys do this with my *sister*?”

‘Man this sucks!’ Faith shouted in her mind for the hundredth time, dread flowing through her body like a raging river.

‘Coward! God, what a fricken ’fraidy cat!’ she chastised herself. She’d been standing in front of the door to the triad’s home for almost a full minute, trying to work up the courage to knock. ‘Some big bad slayer I am!’

She froze when the door opened, revealing Buffy with a confused look on her face.

“Yeah, sure ... five by five,” Faith mumbled. ‘God, what a fricken tool!’

Buffy stepped back, offering silent invitation. “So, what’s up?” she said perkily.

Faith shuffled in. “I, uh ... I kinda need to talk to Red, if that’s cool,” she ended with an entreating tone.

“Uh, sure,” Buffy said, her brows furrowing slightly. “I mean, you don’t need my permission, it’s not like I own her or anything,” she babbled.

‘Right, since when?’ Faith thought, raising her brows and smirking ever so slightly, amused despite her tension.

‘Damn, B, you’re so fricken hot when you blush like that,’ Faith couldn’t help but think. Immediately she chastised herself, ‘Damn! Not supposed to think of that anymore, remember?’

Rolling her eyes in apparent embarrassment, Buffy continued, “So I’ll just shut up now and go get her.” The blonde slayer punctuated the comment by spinning around and walking away.

The brief respite from anxiety Faith had enjoyed immediately evaporated as soon as Buffy was out of sight. ‘Jeez, why the heck am I so nervous?’ she asked herself as she shifted from foot to foot, her eyes wandering the room.

‘Oh, I don’t know, how about because B’s pet witch scares the living crap out of you?’

‘No way,’ she thought half-heartedly. ‘Oh, who am I kidding? Red’s one scary fricken chicka since she got herself all mojoed up.’

‘Yeah, and the fact that you were a complete bitch to her back in the day ... and that’s not even counting the whole knife incident.’

‘If she was still pissed about that, she coulda done something about it already,’ she told herself.

‘Damn! I didn’t even notice her!’ Faith thought as Willow’s questioning voice startled her.

Willow’s eyebrows lifted in apparent surprise. “You wanted to see me?” she asked in a voice rife with disbelief.

“Yeah, well, I ... um, I kinda need a favor,” Faith said, continuing to stumble over her words. ‘Damn, I sound like a complete fricken loser!’ she railed against herself for her hesitancy.

Now the redhead’s brows furrowed. “You need a favor. From me,” she said with confusion written on her face.

“Look, I know you don’t owe me jack,” Faith started, having to force herself to remain calm despite her impulse to say, ‘forget it’ and take off.

“If anything, it’s the other way around, but it’s not just about me. Giles said I should ask you and stuff, so I ... uh—”

The expression on Willow’s face was bemused. “Faith, sit down,” she said as she followed her own advice.

‘Jeez, chill, girl,’ Faith told herself as she initially bristled at Willow’s command. She stiffly sat on the far end of the couch away from the redhead.

“You’re babbling — and you don’t generally babble — so, clearly something very not-good is going on,” Willow said with a sympathetic-looking smile. “Tell me what happened and what you need.”

“Uh, well it’s like this....” She trailed off nervously. ‘Just say it,’ she told herself and then took a deep breath. “So, it turns out Alex and Beth were sent by the watchers to, um, help me.”

Faith started wringing her hands. “Yeah, um, like to keep me from, you know, turning evil and stuff?”

“I don’t know, they’re supposed to help me get my head right and stuff, I guess,” Faith explained.

“No,” she answered. “I, uh ... I kinda overheard them and that watcher-guy ... Travers. See, I followed him from his hotel and stuff after our little meeting. He went right to Alex and Beth’s and I was listening from outside.”

“Yeah,” she said at the look of shock that crossed Willow’s face. “I was pretty freaked out.”

“Yeah, so anyway ... Travers is all in their face, saying that they weren’t doing what he wanted and stuff, and they’re all ‘we’re here to help her, not spy on her.’” She stopped there, uncomfortable enough without sharing even more.

“Do you believe them — wait, that’s the favor, right?” Willow interjected. “You want me to do a truth spell, because you’re not sure, right?”

Willow frowned, causing Faith’s stomach to churn anew. “You seem ... I don’t know ... like you didn’t want to?”

“I uh....” Faith trailed off. ‘Come on, I can’t even think of a good lie here!’ she railed at herself silently.

“You didn’t want to do a spell.” Willow’s eyes widened with realization. “You didn’t want to ask me.”

“Look, I—” Faith began, though she had no idea where she was going to go with it.

“You could talk to Tara,” Willow began, her posture stiffening. She wrapped her arms around herself and looked away from the dark-haired slayer as she continued, “I could go get her.”

‘Damn, I’m screwin’ this all up,’ Faith realized. “No, that’s not ... I don’t—” she shook her head angrily. “Look, I ain’t any good at this stuff, okay? I just ... every time I look at you, I keep seeing me holding a knife to your throat and stuff,” she finished in a near whisper, then wrapped her arms around herself, all the while chastising herself, ‘Weak, pathetic little crybaby!’

“Oh,” Willow said softly, frowning. Then louder with a look of comprehension, “Oh! I get it.”

Faith had to make an effort not to jerk away as Willow laid her hand on the slayer’s knee. ‘Easy, killer. If she wanted to hurt you, she wouldn’t need to touch you.’

“I think I get it, Faith,” Willow said with sympathy in her voice. “Would you feel better if I hurt you?”

Willow’s face was still sympathetic, as was her voice as she explained. “I think I understand, I mean, I’ve already forgiven you for what happened back in high school, but it sounds like you haven’t forgiven yourself.”

‘Holy freakin’ crap!’ Faith thought, caught like a deer in the headlights, her emotions as confused as her thoughts.

“It’s okay,” Willow continued, actually patting Faith on the knee. “I’d need to ask my mistress first, but we could probably work something out ... purely platonic, of course.” The redhead added evenly, as if this was an entirely normal, casual conversation. “Why don’t we talk about that another time and focus on the truth spell for now?”

‘I’m a bad, bad girl,’ Willow thought with a giggle as she went to the door. ‘But the look on her face ... so worth it!’

She noticed her two lovers entering the room as she walked to the front door. “Boy, somebody’s impatient,” she muttered as the pounding continued unabated.

“Willow! What the hell is wrong with you people?” Cordelia Chase stomped into the mansion, clearly fuming.

“And hello to you, too?” Willow said questioningly, taken aback by the seer’s behavior.

“I had a vision, someone’s going to shoot Dawn, if they haven’t already!” Cordelia continued as though Willow hadn’t spoken.

“What?” Buffy fairly screamed, drowning out Faith and Tara’s responses as well as Willow’s horrified gasp.

“And you decided to drive here to give us the news?” Buffy demanded, sounding furious. “Didn’t you ever hear of a phone?”

“We did try to call,” Wesley broke in, following Cordelia in through the door. “In fact we’ve been trying the entire time we were driving here; however your line has been busy the entire time.”

“Why did you have the phone off ... never mind, I don’t want to know,” Cordelia interjected.

“I can find her,” Willow said intently, forcing down the incipient panic as she moved to join Tara in wrapping her arms around the very distraught Buffy.

“I can find her, Mistress. I can go to wherever she is and make sure she’s okay,” Willow tried to reassure her lover even as her own heart raced.

“Do it,” Buffy commanded. “Please, don’t let her die,” she added in a frightened whisper.

“I won’t, I promise!” Willow said, projecting as much confidence as she could into her voice. ‘Goddess, please let me be able to keep that promise!’

“Use the circle to focus,” Tara whispered to her, her eyes silently echoing Buffy’s plea.

Nodding, Willow turned to Cordelia. “Follow me,” she instructed. “Tell me everything you can remember about the vision,” she added as she quickly walked to their casting room.

“It’s not much,” Cordelia said with a sigh as she followed. “She and this older redhead are standing in someone’s living room — big, expensive, but a little overdone, if you ask me,”

“Well, that would explain it,” Cordelia said with a note of distaste in her voice. “Wait, her and Xander? Why?”

Willow rolled her eyes at the typical Cordelia-esque attitude. “Focus, Cordy. The vision? Then what?” she prompted, opening the door to her and Tara’s casting room.

“Right, anyway, they’re talking and this nasty, skanky old-guy comes into the room through a door and he’s got a machine-gun — kinda like that one Gunn had when we took out Ms. Trailer-park-trash-goddess — and he says something to them and then he points the gun at them with this evil look on his face and pulls the trigger ... then the vision ended.”

“So, you didn’t actually see her get shot?” Willow asked for clarification as she sat in the center of the permanently inscribed pentagram.

“Still,” Cordelia corrected, “He was totally about to pull the trigger and stuff,”

“Okay, let me focus,” Willow interjected. “Oh, and remind Tara to hang up the phone, okay?”

With that she closed her eyes and tuned out any response Cordelia might have made. ‘Dawnie, where are you right now?’ she silently mused as she reached out to find her sister witch.

‘Christ, like I wasn’t screwed up enough already,’ Faith thought — not for the first time — as she walked toward Alex and Beth’s house. ‘It’s not enough I gotta deal with this Alex and Beth thing, now she’s gotta start playing freaking mind games? I mean, no way she was serious.’

The emotional maelstrom raging inside her actually brought her to a standstill for several moments. Finally she gave a violent headshake and thought, ‘Stop it! Just freakin’ deal with Alex and Beth right now and worry about ... other stuff ... later.’

Her stomach was again rumbling with nervousness as she arrived at her destination. She pushed herself to enter, trying — but mostly failing — to appear nonchalant. “Hey, guys,” she greeted her once and maybe future lovers with a subdued voice.

“Faith, could you come in the living room please? We ... uh ... we need to talk,” Alex’s voice was serious, yet hesitant.

‘At least they weren’t kidding about wanting to tell me,’ she thought as she looked at them. They were in the living room, standing close together, but not quite touching. Each had their arms wrapped around themselves and both looked very uncomfortable.

“Yeah, ’bout what?” she grunted out, still trying to not show her conflicted emotions outwardly. ‘Crap, I don’t know if I’m more pissed-off, or scared out of my friggin’ mind!’ she thought.

“Uh, well, it’s kind of a long story,” Beth said. Her voice was quiet and she was clearly very nervous herself.

“Look, whatever it is, spit it out already, okay?” Faith blurted out. ‘God, I just want this over with, whatever fricken happens!’

“We’ve never lied to you, Faith,” Beth blurted right back. “But there’s some things we haven’t told you ... and you might not be happy to hear them.”

“Our first meeting wasn’t happenstance,” Alex said with a sigh. “We were looking for a way to ... involve ourselves ... in your life.”

“Why don’t you Reader’s Digest it for me?” Faith demanded as her patience wore ever thinner.

“Fine,” Beth said with a sigh, dropping her arms and dropping down onto the couch. She then took a deep breath and said, “We’re a pair of combat-psychologists that were chosen by the Powers That Be to come here, to this time and place, in order to help you, as one of their chosen champions, to keep from falling into the darkness.”

Faith’s jaw dropped and she blinked a couple of times, her mind a complete blank. She dropped back into the big overstuffed chair. “Gotta say, I wasn’t expecting that,” she muttered when she finally found her voice.

“Faith ... please believe me when I say that we never meant to hurt you, or betray your trust,” Alex said intently as he sat down next to Beth. “It really is a long story,”

“Yes, yes!” he agreed, nodding his head emphatically. “We’ll tell you everything ... it’s just, well ... some of it is going to sound bad, but—”

“You mean like the part where you work for that piece of crap Travers?” Faith interrupted, unable to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

The stunned looks on their faces were almost enough to make her laugh out loud, despite the pain.

“That would be one of the worst parts,” Alex said, sounding crushed, his entire posture slumping down in defeat.

Her eyes darted toward her girlfriend and she saw silent tears pouring from her eyes. ‘Crap! Even after all this, all I want to do is pull her into my arms and kiss her till she stops crying!’ she thought.

“I can only imagine the h-horrible things he must have told you about us,” Beth whispered, hoarsely. “I only hope you’ll hear our s-side before you judge us.”

“I realize that this might sound ridiculous, given the situation,” Alex spoke quietly, but with great seriousness in his voice. “But, Faith, you can’t trust Travers.”

She reacted with a humorless laugh. ‘There’s a friggin’ news flash,’ she thought. ‘Question is, can I trust you? I want to so bad ... I just hope you’ll let Red do the mojo.’

Beth apparently took Faith’s reaction as disagreement, responding, “Faith, regardless of what you must think of us right now, you ... you have to know that Travers doesn’t have your best interests in mind.”

“God, there has to be some way we can prove to you,” Alex trailed off, clearly frustrated.

She raised her eyebrows at Beth’s vehemence. “You don’t even know what it is,” she started.

“Anything we can do that will let you trust us again ... well, if we can’t be part of your life,” Alex closed his mouth with an audible click of teeth; his jaw muscle visibly clenched, and his lips quivering slightly.

‘Damn, I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alex cry,’ Faith thought with amazement. ‘If this is for real ... God, I hope it’s for real!’

‘Damn, I’m about to friggin’ cry myself!’ Faith thought as she took a deep, shuddering breath. “You, um, you gotta let Red cast this truth spell thing on you,” she said, avoiding their gaze.

‘Why do I feel like I’m the one betraying them?’ she wondered at the clenching sensation in her gut.

“It’s brilliant,” Alex sighed, sounding relieved. “Why didn’t we think of that?”

“Really?” Faith asked, surprised at their easy acceptance. “You’re okay with her doin’ the mojo thing on you?”

“Absolutely!” Beth gushed. “It eliminates any second thoughts! You won’t have to wonder if we’re being honest, or if we’re holding anything back; you’ll know.”

“Faith,” Alex started, sounding actually happy about the subject. “It’s not like we ever wanted to hide anything from you. Even just from the standpoint of helping you deal with things, it would have been better if we could have been completely honest from the start.”

“Then, taking into account the ... um, deep feelings that we’ve developed for you,” Beth continued the thought. “It tore us up inside to keep things from you. God, so many times ... how I wanted to just come clean and tell you everything!”

“There’s so much we want to tell you, Faith,” Alex said. “Things we worried that you wouldn’t believe.”

“Oh, uh ... might be a couple days,” Faith muttered, still overwhelmed by their response.

“Well, see, there’s this thing,” Faith started to explain. “Buffy’s little sis got herself in trouble again—”

The ringing phone interrupted Giles train of thought. He’d been working on translating an ancient copy of an Abyssinian magus’s diary, still investigating the mystery of Willow and Tara’s apparently new line of magic. ‘So much for a bit of uninterrupted research,’ he thought. Joyce had gone to the grocery store, and he’d hoped to take advantage of the time.

He sighed and reached behind him for the phone. “Hello?” he said, with a polite voice that belied his annoyance.

“How dare you?” and angry female voice started out without preamble. “What in Gaia’s name were you thinking?”

“You sent a sorceress, and tried to pass her off as a witch?” Sarah demanded angrily.

“The girl — the one you sent with the supposed amulet? She dared claim to be a witch, and when I asked for a demonstration of the craft, she performed a fire-sorcery!”

“If this was a jest, Rupert Giles, it was in the poorest of taste!” Sarah went on without missing a beat. “I was under the apparently mistaken impression that you had put your dark days behind you.”

“Please, Sarah ... you must calm down,” Giles interjected. “I don’t know precisely how to explain the magic that Dawn and her mentors are using, but I assure you that it isn’t sorcery, or anything akin to it.

“The girl can manipulate fire, Rupert. There was no spell, no calling on the elements ... such power is not human in nature, as you should well know,” Sarah’s voice was clearly upset. “Such abilities come from truck with demonic powers. Whether through sacrifice or subjugation, they are equally foul.”

“Sarah,” Giles interrupted. “If you had taken the time to examine Dawn’s aura, you would have clearly seen that there was no demonic taint.” He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

Taking pity on her, he continued, “As I said, I cannot explain the how they do what they do, but I can assure you that it isn’t demonic; it isn’t sorcery. Though, I can certainly agree that it doesn’t follow the rules of either Wiccan or Hecatean witchcraft either.”

“You can’t mean—” she paused, her voice rife with disbelief. “Wizardry? There hasn’t been a true wizard on this plane in millennia!”

“I honestly don’t know, Sarah,” Giles admitted with a sigh. “I’ve been researching, trying to find out if there is some record, or-or prophecy, or ... anything that might explain how this came to be....” He trailed off in frustration.

“If it is wizardry—” Sarah’s voice was filled with both wonder and no little fear. “Rupert, this girl ... Dawn ... she said that she was apprenticed to two others?”

“She said she’d only been apprenticed for a very short time ... a few months?” she went on.

“If she can do what I saw, after only months ... what must her mentors be able to accomplish?” she asked in wonder.

“Actually, I have yet to see Dawn cast anything,” Giles admitted. “May I ask what it was that she did to have such a profound effect on you?”

Sarah let out an audible sigh. “She manipulated the candle flames, wrapping them about herself and causing them to change colors ... Rupert, I feel like a fool.”

“I say, whatever do you mean?” he sputtered, confused by the apparent non sequitur.

“I was so angry at the thought of sorcery being performed before my very eyes,” she admitted, sounding shamefaced. “I verbally assaulted that poor girl ... no wonder she seemed so startled by my invective.”

“I must find a way apologize to her,” Sarah went on, almost as though she were talking to herself rather than to Giles. “It wouldn’t do to make enemies of such powerful, potential allies.”

“What *are* you talking about, Sarah?” Giles interjected, suddenly concerned by her turn of phrase.

“Is the girl still in Las Vegas, do you know?” she continued, ignoring his question.

‘Why would the coven be seeking allies?’ he wondered to himself, in turn ignoring her question.

“I was surprised to find that the entire coven had left Devon,” he mused aloud, still working the question through. “However, if there were some danger ... a threat to the coven? Is that why you’re here in the States? Are you seeking allies, or hiding from something ... or both?”

She chuckled ruefully. “You’ve always been just a bit too sharp for my comfort, Rupert,” she admitted.

“Sarah, if you were in need, why didn’t you ask me?” he asked, surprised and disappointed.

“Sarah,” he admonished. “Surely you know you can trust me not to involve the council in things that are none of their business.”

She let out another audible sigh. “Honestly, Rupert, if the information we’ve found is accurate, this is something far beyond the slayer’s ability to handle.”

“Buffy has become remarkably stronger and faster of late,” Giles said trying to ignore the feelings of paternal pride that rose up inside. “Just the other day she was ambushed by twelve vampires and slew the lot without even one of them landing so much as a single blow.”

“Truly?” she asked, sounding reluctantly impressed. “Still—” she began

“We had a bit of a situation here several months ago,” he explained. “The council had her released.”

“Further, Buffy has entered into a triad relationship with two rather powerful witches,” Giles added.

“Indeed,” Giles answered her unfinished question. “These days the Hellmouth is guarded by two slayers, and two — now three, I suppose — powerful witches. Or, magic-users if you prefer.”

“Had I known, I would have rung you right up, I assure you,” she said emphatically.

“Had you called, you would have known,” he answered, unable to resist a slight dig.

“Now it becomes even more imperative that I make my apologies to ... Dawn *Summers*. Good Goddess, is Dawn...?” she asked, sounding fairly horrified.

“Sister to Buffy Summers, the senior slayer.” Giles finished her thought with a smile.

“Holy....” Sara Sidle’s voice died off as she stood there, open-mouthed in shock.

“It’s not real ... can’t be real,” Catherine Willows’ whispered voice was conveying not shock, but abject terror.

“Fascinating!” Gil Grissom’s voice held neither shock nor fear, but almost childlike excitement.

“Fascinating?” Sara asked, her voice nearly a squeak. “Fascinating? Grissom, they’re on fire! I can’t believe you!” she shouted, frustrated with his response.

“But it is fascinating,” Grissom argued, gesturing toward the couple that presently stood wrapped in an embrace, passionately kissing, while engulfed in a torrent of green flame. “They clearly aren’t in any pain, and nothing else is burning ... it’s the most amazing optical illusion I’ve ever seen!”

“Don’t!” Sara nearly shouted when he held out his hand as if to touch the flames.

“Just don’t, okay?” she said, quickly opening and rummaging through her scene kit. ‘Something burned that guy up from the inside,’ she thought, even as she felt silly just pondering the notion. “Here, use this,” she said, pulling a telescoping rod with an alligator clip on the end. She clipped a piece of note paper to the end and pulled it out to full extension before handing it to him.

“Better safe than sorry,” she mumbled when he gave her a disbelieving look. “You of all people should know better than to touch something unknown,” she said more firmly, annoyed with her own thoughts as well as his response.

‘Arrogant ... man!’ she thought as he gave her a smile that said he was just humoring her.

The moment he stuck the end of the probe into the green flame his smile dropped with a loud gasp. The paper instantly immolated into nothing and the end of the rod melted, dripping like a wax candle hit with an acetylene torch. ‘Not possible,’ ran through Sara’s stunned mind as she watched in horror.

“Yeouch!” Grissom shouted a heartbeat later, dropping the now red hot probe and staring at his blistered fingers in shock.

“It didn’t even hit the floor!” Sara’s mind was playing over the sight of the metal as it melted into liquid and then evaporated into gas before it fell all the way to the floor.

If it weren’t for her own shock, she would have burst into laughter at the look on Grissom’s face as he looked up from his burned fingers to meet her gaze.

“No, it isn’t,” Grissom continued. “There isn’t any fuel to feed a fire like that, and anything that hot in the open air would be radiating heat at an enormous rate ... it simply isn’t possible.”

‘Wow, she pegged us dead on,’ Sara thought, shaking her head. ‘Catherine’s terrified, I would have definitely voted crazy before the fire thing ... and Grissom’s trying to argue that it’s scientifically impossible despite the second degree burns on his fingers.’

“Well, as impossible as it may be,” Sara began, still shaking her head at both the situation and Grissom’s absurd statement. “That’s our shooting vic, wearing Doc Robbins’ lab coat, and that’s really some kind of fire wrapping around them, which really evaporated my probe and burned your fingers.”

Catherine suddenly whimpered loudly and Sara felt a deep vibration running through her body at the same time. She turned to the redhead and started to ask, “Do you feel something?”

She was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a ball of what looked like deep blue lightning, accompanied by a loud crack.

As quickly as the ball had formed — right between where Sara and Grissom were, and where Catherine was cowering back against the wall — it disappeared, leaving a young redheaded woman in its place.

“Whoa, what a rush!” the newcomer said with a broad smile and a shake of her head.

‘Holy crap!’ Sara thought, both at the appearance and at the glimpse of her eyes, which seemed to be a solid blue in color. ‘Glowing blue,’ her mind added.

“Dawnie!” the new arrival shouted happily before taking in the rest of the scene. She started toward the flaming, kissing couple, and then abruptly stopped when she looked down at the body on the floor. “Eww!” she muttered, sounding disgusted.

“Impossible!” Grissom’s shocked exclamation caught the young woman’s attention and she suddenly looked up and around the room as if just now noticing the other people around her.

“Okay, who are you people and what the heck is going on here?” the newcomer demanded, startling a laugh out of Sara.

“We’re with the Las Vegas Crime Lab,” Grissom stated, finally sounding a little more like himself. “And who might you be?”

The young woman frowned thoughtfully for a moment, then glanced down at the body on the floor and said, “Oh!” with a look of dawning realization. “Excuse me, I need to make a phone call,” she said, ignoring Grissom’s question and walking over to the phone.

Once again Sara had to restrain her laughter despite the seriousness of the situation. ‘Poor guy. He looks even more surprised than he did when she popped out of nowhere,’ she thought. ‘Of course, I may be on the edge of a complete mental breakdown myself,’ she admitted silently.

“Yes, Mistress,” the newcomer’s voice was soft, but Sara could still hear her as she spoke to whomever she’d called.

‘Mistress?’ Sara thought. ‘This just keeps getting stranger and stranger.’

“No, Mistress, she’s fine,” the young woman continued. “No, I can’t. She and Xander are, uh, well ... making out....” She trailed off, sounding chagrinned. “Well, there’s definite weirdness going on, ’cause they’re kinda surrounded by green fire at the moment. I don’t think so. No, I’m pretty sure he already tried. Um, well because, there’s a dead guy with a gun lying over here next to the three crime scene investigators. No, they’re not dead, but they’re way wigged.”

‘Somebody’s pissed off!’ Sara thought, hearing a loud, upset sounding voice on the other end of the phone call.

“Yes Miss — no — yes, Mistress, I will,” the young woman spoke deferentially. “It might take a while, but I’ll figure something out. Yes, I’ll call you right away. Thank you, Mistress. I love you too. Okay.”

Her body posture relaxed slightly as she continued speaking, “Hey, baby. Yeah, she’s okay, but there’s some wiggy magic going on. Her and Xan are completely enveloped in flames, but they’re not burning or anything. I don’t know, it might be some kind of shield thing, what with the police-type people here.”

‘Well, at least she acknowledges our existence,’ Sara thought, feeling a little put out at being ignored, in addition to all the other weirdness going on.

“No, I think Dawn must have done it,” she continued her phone-conversation. “There’s definitely some kind of burning-up involved there too ... Yeah, our little fire-witch. No, I think they’re locked in some kind of mental thingy, ’cause they’re still kissing ... I don’t know if they even realize anyone is here besides themselves. Well, it had to be self defense; you heard what Cordy saw. No, I feel okay, but it was strangely harder than getting rid of the scabby minions ... I may stay the night and fly back tomorrow instead ... you’ll keep Buff from freaking out? No, I think I could if I had to, but it would pretty much wipe me out. Okay, I will ... love you too, Tara!”

Sara’s eyebrows rose even higher at that. ‘She has a mistress and a someone named Tara?’ she thought.

She hung up the phone and turned towards the flaming couple when Grissom interjected, “Excuse me, but could you please explain—”

“I’ll be with you guys in a minute,” she cut him off, moving towards Xander and Dawn.

“I said I’d be with you in a minute,” the redhead turned her attention fully on the male CSI.

With a wave of her hand, Grissom was moved across the room and onto the couch. Sara found herself suddenly next to him with no sensation of having moved the distance in between, and Catherine’s fearful yelp indicated that she too had joined them on the couch.

Sara looked at her two co-workers. ‘Catherine looks like she’s about to break down ... and Gris—’ she broke off her musing to speak to her boss. “Gris?” she said while putting her hand on his knee to attract his attention. “How about we just sit here quietly for a minute?”

When he looked like he still wanted to say something, she whispered intently, “I really don’t want to see what she does if you piss her off.”

She breathed a sigh of relief when he closed his mouth. ‘He looks angry, but at least he shut up,’ she sighed.

Sara looked back at the flaming couple and almost shouted when the redhead reached out to touch them, but instead of being burned, the fire stopped just short of her hands, which were themselves surrounded by a bluish glow that crackled softly and seemed to be crawling with miniature lightning-bolts.

‘At least he isn’t still saying it’s impossible,’ she thought, rolling her eyes.

«Dawnie! Oh, kitten, I’m so glad you’re okay!» Xander thought as he plundered his lover’s mouth and reveled in the feel of her body held tightly to him.

«I thought I’d lost you forever! I was so empty without you!» her plaintive voice filled him with sorrow.

«I’m so sorry, kitten!» he thought, anguished at her pain. «I never wanted to leave you!»

«Love you so much!» he thought with joy as he took pleasure twining his tongue with hers. «Hey, wait a minute....» His thoughts trailed off.

«Uh ... how is it I’m hearing you talk when — I’m pretty sure anyway — that’s your tongue in my mouth?» he wondered.

«Huh ... I don’t know,» she replied. «Must be magic, I guess?» she added, apparently not any more inclined than he was to cease making out in order to examine the phenomenon.

«So I shouldn’t be worried?» he asked, only slightly hesitant about the situation.

«You were dead, and now you’re not, and you’re worried about this being weird?» she thought with a touch of humor. «Besides, after spending the last six hours trying to cope with you being dead, I’m not gonna worry about *any* weirdness, as long as it includes you being alive!» she added fervently.

«I’m sorry you had to go through that, Dawn, but I’m not sorry I did it. I’d lay my life down for you in a heartbeat,» he thought with absolute certainty.

«Yeah, well you proved that once already. How about we make sure it doesn’t ever have to happen again?» she thought back.

He could feel both annoyance and pride in her response. «We’ll do our best, Dawn, but nothing in this life is for sure.»

«Well, our best better be pretty good, ’cause next time it’s my turn!» she answered with steel in her ‘voice.’

«We’re definitely going armed every time we leave the house from now on!» he resolved, shuddering at the idea of Dawn dying in his place.

«So what’s with the three stooges?» he said, changing the subject. «It sounded like you were arguing about magic or something when I came in?»

«Oh God, those three,» she thought with a groan. «The redhead gave me a ride back here after they ‘questioned’ me at the police station for a while ... Xan, the guy that shot you was here, waiting for me.»

«Holy crap!» Xander exclaimed, feeling icy tendrils of fear, despite the fact that she was clearly alive and okay.

«He was gonna kill me, and the CSI lady,» she said with some trepidation in her ‘voice.’

«Then what happened?» he asked, freaking out at the mental scene she was painting for him.

«I’m not sure exactly ... I remember screaming at him, and it felt like all the rage and fear in me just poured out right into him,» she explained hesitantly. «Then we were both screaming and then I passed out, and when I woke up he was dead.»

«The CSI lady was all freaking out and she was all, “What did you do? What did you do?” and then I caught a whiff — I guess I burned him up from the inside out — and I thought I was gonna hurl for sure, so I ran into the bathroom, but I didn’t even heave,» she thought to him in a Willow-esque babble.

«Are you okay? I mean, with the ... you know....» Xander trailed off, treading very lightly around the subject.

«I kept thinking, ‘I killed him, I killed him!’ and I kept expecting all that guilt and stuff like the last time ... but it never came. I ... I’m glad I killed him, Xan. I mean, he killed you and he was gonna kill me and....» Her thoughts were filled with apprehension as she trailed off. «Does that make me a monster?»

«No! Dawnie, of course not,» he immediately reassured her. «If he was still alive I would take him out in a heartbeat for putting you through what he did!»

«I sat there and cried for a while, and then when I came out of the bathroom, the other two had showed up,» she explained. «They’re from the crime lab too.»

«Great,» Xander thought sardonically. «No wonder they’re freaking out ... we’re gonna have to come up with some way to get rid of them without anyone trying to arrest anybody ... namely you or me!»

«But ... it was self defense!» Dawn protested. «Okay, maybe there were some revenge-type feelings there ... but still, he was about to shoot me!»

«I know, kitten. I’m just worried about how they’re going to react to the whole magic thing ... not to mention the part where I’m not quite as dead as I was when they put me in that morgue drawer.»

«At first, I thought it was a coffin, so I was actually pretty stoked when I figured out it was a drawer in the morgue,» he said, lightening the mood slightly.

«Yeah, I was way wigged,» he agreed. «And may I just say again how incredibly, amazingly happy I am to be here kissing you instead of pushing up daisies!»

«Yeah, we can worry about the ‘how’ later. Much later,» she said with a sultry tone.

«Oh yeah!» he agreed as thoughts of CSIs and dead bodies gave way to his mind catching up with his body, focusing on the amazing girl in his arms.

The redhead’s unmistakable laughter rang out. “You two make quite a picture!”

«Whaddya mean we make quite a picture?» Xander asked, Willow’s presence less of an issue to him than her comment.

“You’re standing there making out for Goddess knows how long in a room full of people and you didn’t even notice when I got here, and do you realize that you’re completely surrounded by some kind of green fire?” Willow babbled.

“Yep,” Willow said, sounding like she must be smiling at their confusion. “Between that and me popping in here, I think those poor crime-scene people are pretty wigged out.”

As if by unspoken plan, both Xander and Dawn pulled back at the same moment, ending their kiss.

“Wow!” he exhaled in amazement at the sight of his lover surrounded by a nimbus of green flame.

“Ditto!” she replied, her eyes tracing around him as thought checking out his aura.

“What is it?” he asked. “Is this the same as ... uh ... the first times it happened?” he stumbled over his words when he remembered that they weren’t alone in the room.

«You mean when we made love the first time?» Dawn asked silently, utilizing their apparently still present mental connection and sporting a brilliant smile.

‘Yeah, right!’ Xander thought, not seeing or feeling any true repentance in Dawn’s demeanor.

“Okay, you two,” Willow said, giggling again. “I appreciate the mental image, but we should probably focus on the situation, doncha think?”

‘Focus, focus, focus,’ Xander chanted mentally, not wanting to let his mind give in to the possible implication.

“I think we can reign in the fire,” Dawn said, ignoring Willow’s subtle innuendo except for a knowing smile.

“We?” he asked, thankful for something else to think about. “You mean you, right?”

“Mmm, warm sunshine,” he moaned happily, remembering the original events once again.

As if the memory triggered the response, he again felt the sensation. ‘So good!’

“Right, focus on the situation,” Xander said, glancing over to his best friend and trying to ignore the way she was licking her lips.

“Not that I’m not happy to see you,” Dawn interjected, turning so that she and he were side by side, facing the redhead. “But, why *are* you here? And, while we’re at it *how* are you here?”

“Well, why is ’cause Cordelia had a vision; how is I teleported,” Willow explained casually.

“That’s so cool!” Dawn gushed. “I’m almost sorry I missed seeing it.”

‘Love you!’ Xander thought with a grin, feeling warmth flow through him at Dawn’s statement.

“You two are really weird sometimes,” Willow said with a frown, no doubt confused with the dichotomy of Dawn’s statement and his thought response. “Anyway,” she continued with a shake of her head. “Cordelia saw you getting attacked,” she said pointing at Dawn. “From the description, I would guess it was that guy,” she added, tilting her head toward the body on the floor. “Also from the description, the redhead on the couch was with you when it went down?”

“Except, obviously it didn’t happen like she saw it, ’cause you’re not shot,” Willow said; her voice and body language implying that she’d like an explanation.

‘It’s gonna be okay, Dawn,’ Xander thought, hugging her to his side as she somewhat wilted against him.

“I don’t know what happened, exactly,” she began. “I’m all, ‘You killed Xander!’ and he’s aiming the gun at me, telling me I’m about to join him, and then I’m screaming, and he’s screaming, and everything went black. When I woke up, he’s laying there dead, and she’s all ‘What did you do?’ over and over,” she said, pointing toward Catherine.

Xander couldn’t help but grin at the evident shock radiating from his best friend.

Dawn continued as though she didn’t even notice Willow’s stunned look. “And then I ran into the bathroom, and when I came out those other two are here, and then we argued when I told them it was magic, and then Xander was here,” she paused her very Willow-esque babble to look up at him with adoration in her gaze.

She continued to stare into his eyes as she continued, “And then we were kissing ... and then you were here.” She turned back to her fellow witch and finished, “And that’s what happened.”

“Speechless!” Xander lost control of his laughter at last, guffawing at his childhood friend. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless in my life!”

“I ... but,” Willow stammered, apparently still too shocked even to take offense at Xander’s laughter.

“Oh,” she said, pausing a moment to think about it. “Oh! Oops,” she went on, chagrinned at the realization.

“Hey, Arch, you got something?” Warrick Brown asked as he entered the AV lab.

Archie Johnson, the resident audio/video technician looked up from his console with a look of incredulity on his face. “That depends,” he answered.

“Are you for real with this?” Archie asked, his voice full of doubt. “I mean, are you sure Sara’s not playing some kind of elaborate practical joke here?”

“No question, positive match,” Archie said, shaking his head. “We got a perfect full-face still off the video, and of course the alleged crime scene photo.”

“And they’re a hundred percent match?” Warrick sought confirmation once more.

“Either he’s an identical twin....” He trailed off, turning to gesture at the video screen which was showing a loop of the man in question as he approached the building’s exit. “Or, you’re looking at a dead man walking.” He held up one of the crime scene photos and added, “Only, with less of that ‘dead look’ around the eyes.”

“Well, you can be sure he wasn’t a vampire,” the tech said with a mocking smile.

“Right,” Warrick said with a humorless chuckle. Shaking his head at the whole situation, he stood up to leave. “Vampire, yeah, like that could happen,” he muttered as he walked out of the room.

‘Oh Goddess, no; I had hoped that we’d taken care of that,’ Tara thought, concerned that their cleansing ritual might not have been sufficient. “Are you starting to feel panicky?” she asked softly.

“What?” Buffy asked, surprised. “Oh, no,” she said contemplatively as she obviously realized to what Tara was referring. “No, actually, I’m good.”

“Yeah, that’s great, and what the hell are you talking about?” Cordelia interjected.

‘Oh yes, I’m sure that will work,’ Tara thought sardonically. In order to forestall a bout of Cordelia-esque interrogation, she explained, “Someone put a curse on Buffy to make her go into a panic attack at the thought of being separated from Willow or me for any length of time.”

“Fascinating,” Wesley interjected. “What curse, and how was it set? Do you know the source?”

“We don’t know ... well, anything really,” Tara interjected, smoothing over her lover’s impatience. “We didn’t even know it was a curse until we did a cleansing ritual and it was expelled.”

“That’s quite interesting,” Wesley said excitedly. “If I may ask, what ritual did you employ?”

“Warwick’s standard,” Tara said, unable to keep a reminiscent smile from her mouth.

“I see,” Wesley said contemplatively. Then his eyes glossed over and his jaw dropped a bit. “Oh, I ... uh ... ahem, I see,” he added hoarsely.

“Whatever,” Cordelia said dismissively. “What I want to know is why would someone want to kill Dawn? Why is she in Las Vegas anyway, and why is that doofus Xander with her?”

“That’s what I’m pissed off about! Someone’s trying to kill my little sister and I don’t know why!” Buffy shouted, throwing her hands up in the air.

“Didn’t Willow say that the man in Cordelia’s vision was, ah ... already disposed of?” Wesley asked.

Tara walked over to wrap her girlfriend up in a hug, “Unfortunately, this isn’t the first time this has happened.”

“And every time it’s in Las Vegas!” Buffy complained. “I swear I’m never letting her set foot in that city again!”

“Which brings us back to my question, why is she even there?” Cordelia asked, sounding exasperated.

“Stop,” Tara commanded. “It wasn’t your fault, it was a curse that someone or something put on you,” she presented the facts. “And if I ever find out who did it I’m going to make them wish they were never born!” she added in a low growl.

The sight of her pet’s arousal dampened Tara’s anger immediately. ‘Mmm, I’m thinking we’re gonna have a little one-on-one playtime later,’ she mused happily.

“Yes, well,” Wesley interjected, blushing strongly. “You were about to explain why it was that Dawn had made this particular trip?”

“Giles wanted this witch-friend of his in England to look at this amulet thingy I got from this wanna-be master vamp, and he said a witch should take it so the witches there would cooperate and stuff,” Buffy started quickly speaking. “And I freaked out about Wil or Tara going without me, ’cause I couldn’t go ’cause Giles didn’t want to leave Faith here with no backup. So Dawn volunteered to go, but then it turned out that the witches weren’t in England ’cause there was some conference they went to, which — it turns out — was in Vegas, so that’s where Dawn and Xander went.”

“What, you’re channeling Willow now?” Cordelia quipped. “God, take a breath!”

‘Willow’s definitely rubbing off on my little slayer,’ Tara thought, smiling at the image accompanying the double entendre.

“I don’t understand,” Wesley said, sounding as confused as he looked. “Surely Faith could patrol the Hellmouth on her own for a few days?”

“She totally could, except that Travers guy is in town and Giles didn’t want to leave Faith by herself with him around,” Buffy explained, while shooting a glare at Cordelia.

“Good Lord!” Wesley exclaimed. “I should think Quentin would avoid Sunnydale like the plague after what I heard regarding the last visit by the council.”

“Yeah, well, he asked nice, so I let him and one of his little toadies come, so long as they promised to behave themselves,” Buffy explained.

‘I bet he never imagined Travers asking permission,’ Tara thought with a sardonic grin.

After a moment, his demeanor turned thoughtful once again. “I still fail to see how your sister could be a suitable replacement for Willow or Tara.”

“Dawnie’s our apprentice,” Tara said proudly. “She’s actually very advanced.”

“Dawn’s a witch?” Cordelia asked disbelievingly. “Are you teaching Xander magic too, ’cause dweeb-boy and magic? So don’t mix, believe me,” she added.

“More like ‘every woman in Sunnydale going mental and trying to kill me’ spell!” Cordelia corrected, but with equal emotional fervor.

‘Sounds like a story I should hear,’ Tara thought. Aloud she answered Cordelia’s original question, “No, he went because Dawn went. They’re together.”

“Duh, I know they’re there together; I’m asking why?” Cordelia asked again, clearly not understanding what Tara had said.

The former prom queen’s jaw dropped for several seconds and then she sputtered, “They’re ... dating?”

“Xander moved in with your mom and Dawn?” Cordy asked, still misunderstanding.

‘Denial runs deep,’ Tara thought, still smiling at the brunette’s unrelenting cluelessness.

“No, Dawn moved in with Xander ... into his apartment. They had separate rooms at first, but they ... um ... don’t any more,” Buffy clarified uncomfortably.

“Don’t seem to do much sleeping if you ask me,” Buffy mumbled, causing Tara to laugh aloud.

“Hey!” Buffy immediately rose to her friend’s defense. “He is not! What they have is....” She trailed off, apparently unable to think of a appropriate adjective.

“Cordelia, please!” Wesley interjected suddenly. “It’s hardly any of our business.”

‘That’s a surprise,’ Tara thought. ‘Still, better him than Buffy,’ she added to herself, having felt Buffy stiffen in her arms.

“It’s none of our business,” he repeated calmly. “She’s of age, and whatever other factors may come into play, it would be up to her mother and sister to resolve them, not you.”

For the second time in as many minutes, Cordelia’s jaw dropped in shocked silence. Though, this time, Tara was just able to keep her laughter from bubbling forth.

“Perhaps then we should take our leave. After all, we’ve delivered the details of your vision, and they seem to have things well in hand.” He turned toward Buffy and Tara and said, “Well, it was good to see you again, of course. Please pass on our greetings to the others when you see them, will you?”

“Of course,” Tara quickly answered, hoping Wesley would be successful in removing Cordelia before her shock wore off. “Thank you so much for coming all this way.”

“Absolutely,” Wesley said as he herded the still sputtering seer toward the door.

‘She’s catching on,’ Tara thought with a smile as Buffy quickly leapt to open the door and allow the LA contingent to exit. “Good night, drive safe!” she said cheerily.

“Whew, we dodged a bullet on that one!” Tara muttered with relief as the door closed.

“I’ll say!” Buffy agreed vehemently, just as the sound of outraged yelling sounded out, muffled by the thickness of the door.

“Well...,” Buffy drawled with an evil grin. “He is the guy that’s schtupping my little sister.”

“Well, what if Dawn felt the same way about us?” Tara countered with a smile. “Willow and I are the depraved, wanton lesbians that seduced her sister, after all.”

“That’s different,” Buffy retorted. “I’m ... older,” she added, once again ignoring logic when it became inconvenient.

“Besides, I think she’s too busy playing flirty with Willow to be upset with her.”

“Oh don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the way she’s been teasing Xander with it,” Buffy said, hands on hips and looking as though she was daring Tara to deny it.

Tara just gaped at her. ‘I didn’t realize you’d noticed,’ she thought, blushing lightly at her assumption.

“And, my naughty little pet doesn’t seem to mind too much, does she?” Buffy went on.

“No,” Buffy quickly interjected. “No, I don’t think either of them would really do anything, but I know Willow fantasizes about it.”

“Gives you a good reason to put her over your knee,” Tara said, feeling a little calmer. ‘That explains why Willow-spankings have been on the rise lately,’ she realized.

Moving forward to pull Buffy into a hug, Tara softly spoke. “Well, Willow did spend most of her life with a giant crush on Xander. I suppose it’s only natural that she’d still find him attractive.”

Tara jerked back to look into Buffy’s eyes. “Huh?” she said with wide eyes, shocked by her lover’s admission.

“I know, I know,” Buffy sighed resignedly. “I can’t believe I said it either.”

“It just not fair, Tara!” Buffy said with an exaggerated pout. “It goes against all laws of nature that my *little* sister is, like, four inches taller than me, not to mention a whole cup size bigger, and—”

Tara cut her off with a toe-curling kiss. ‘Mmm, yummy Buffy kisses ... I just can’t get enough!’

“Huh?” Buffy grunted, dazed and crosseyed when they finally came up for air.

“Yes, Dawn’s a hottie, but I’ve got my favorite Summers girl right here,” Tara explained. She punctuated the point by grabbing a handful of Buffy’s ass with one hand and a fist full of hair with the other before once again claiming the slayer’s mouth in a searing kiss.

‘Want ... now!’ Tara thought, immediately acting upon her desire by forcing Buffy backwards until they were up against the front wall, right by the door.

At that point she switched her grip. She let go of Buffy’s ass and hair to instead slide one hand up under the smaller blonde’s halter top, softly kneading her breast. Her other hand slid along the expanse of Buffy’s uncovered tummy, down into her tight leather pants. She smiled against the slayer’s mouth — still not breaking the kiss — at the slick moisture she found there.

Buffy moaned loudly into her mouth as Tara curled two fingers up into her warm sex, using what little room was available in the tight pants to slide her hand up and down, fingers rubbing against her inner sweet spot, palm mashing her clit in small, grinding circles.

‘Mine!’ Tara thought, insofar as her metal state at that point could be considered ‘thought.’ She was driven to possess her pet, driving her toward release while at the same time reestablishing her clear dominance over the woman.

Buffy’s hands grasping at her back were barely noticeable as Tara focused on driving her pet higher and higher up the path of pleasure until minutes later when the lithe blonde shattered, screaming into Tara’s mouth and tightly squeezing the larger woman’s fingers inside her, nearly to the point of pain.

Tara began to slow her movements, softening the kiss and a few moments later removing her hand from Buffy’s pants. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I needed!’ Tara thought, feeling blissful even though her body hummed with arousal.

“Love you, Mistress!” Buffy gasped, drawing great drafts of air as she slowly calmed down. “God I love you so much!”

Tara smiled broadly at Buffy’s declaration. She brought her sticky fingers up to her face and inhaled deeply through her nose. “Mmm, I do love your scent, Slayer,” she said in a lazy voice. She took her time meticulously licking her fingers clean, while surreptitiously observing her pet in her peripheral vision.

‘Oh, poor Slayer looks hungry,’ she thought sardonically at the dazed look on her pet’s face. ‘I guess I should give her something to eat.’

“I’m wondering something, Slayer,” Tara said after having finished her little teasing session.

“Well, I can’t decide if I should drag you back to the bedroom ... or if I should just push you down onto your knees and order you to lick my pussy right here,” she stated as though she were carefully weighing the pros and cons of each.

“You know what sounds even better?” Tara asked, coming to a decision. “Both.”

Buffy had a slightly confused look on her face so Tara clarified. “On your knees, Slayer!” she commanded even as she quickly undid the buttons on her skirt.

By the time Tara had her skirt and panties off; Buffy was already completely naked, on her knees, hands clasped behind her and her head down in the submissive position.

She sat down on the edge of the couch and lay back while spreading her knees apart. “Alright, Slayer, get over here and make me see stars!” she instructed.

‘Goddess, I love this so much!’ she exulted as her pet’s tongue swiped her inner thighs, quickly moping up the liquor that had already seeped from her sex before getting to the ‘main event’ as it were.

Tara groaned appreciatively as her pet wasted no time teasing, but immediately buried her tongue deep inside, lapping and stroking — doubtless seeking to induce the requested ‘seeing of stars.’ ‘Mine!’ she thought possessively as she grabbed a fistful of blonde hair and pulled the slayer tight to her center.

“Yes, yes, yes!” Tara growled as she rubbed herself against her slayer’s face, using her like a living sex toy. ‘Whaddya know, stars!’ she had the incongruous thought as she came with a strangled cry.

She had to blink her eyes for several moments before she could refocus on anything but the bursting lights that came from squeezing her eyes shut so hard. Another moment passed as the roar of her heartbeat pounding in her ears quieted down to normal.

Little trembles of pleasure shook her and she realized her pet was still gently lapping at her vulva. “Good girl,” she said with a sigh. “Come up here,” she added, pulling at the thick plait of hair still in her fist.

‘Mmm, I taste good on you,’ she thought naughtily as she slowly, deeply kissed her lover. Her eyes slipped shut and lassitude began to overtake her as her pet kissed a path along her jaw and down her neck. ‘Such a good pet,’ she thought happily.

Her eyes shot open a moment later and she gasped aloud as Buffy suddenly latched on to her neck and bit down while sucking hard.

‘Goddess, it’s been so long!’ she thought with both joy and playful outrage as the slayer renewed the mark that had faded almost completely. ‘Oh I am going to enjoy paddling your ass for that!’ she thought with a wide, teeth-baring grin on her face.

The moment Buffy released her, Tara grabbed her hair and pulled her head up to meet her gaze. “You know you’re going to pay for that, don’t you?” she inquired semi-rhetorically.

“Then get in the bedroom and assume the position over your chair!” Tara commanded.

Tara slowly climbed to her feet, giving her wobbly knees a moment to steady under her. ‘Oh what she does to me!’ she thought, shaking her head ruefully even as she smiled with pleasure. Her smile turned into an impish grin as she removed her top and bra, casually tossing them to the floor. “I’ll make Buffy clean up later,” she said with a giggle.

She walked into their bedroom and forced herself to — outwardly at least — ignore the sight of her pet. ‘As if I could ever really overlook that!’ she thought as she peripherally observed Buffy, bent over the back of ‘her chair.’ The petite blonde had to stand almost on tiptoes to get over the back and grab onto the seat of the simple wooden chair.

‘Third one,’ Tara turned away to hide her smile as she recalled how an overly-amorous slayer had torn apart the first two chairs they’d acquired in a lustful frenzy before Willow had suggested a little magical modification to make the third one ‘slayer-proof.’

Tara moved to the side of the room and opened the ‘toy-box’ with a slight blush staining her features. ‘I remember when this was actually just a box,’ she thought as she opened up the doors of the seven foot tall, five foot wide armoire.

She absently grabbed her custom-fitted harness and donned it as her gaze perused the ‘implements of correction.’ ‘Hmm, the paddle is a given,’ she thought as she selected Buffy’s favorite: the one the slayer had presented to her at the very beginning of their ‘game.’

‘Which one for after, though?’ she mused as she looked over the variety of harness-capable dildos they’d collected. As her eyes reached the one they’d dubbed Witch-slayer she was suddenly filled with a tingling rush. ‘Oh I couldn’t ... could I?’ she wondered. ‘Only Willow can take that monstrosity ... though, Buffy is the slayer....’

Almost of their own accord, her hands reached out and took hold the giant fake-phallus. Her pulse rose significantly as she fitted the base to her harness. ‘Oh Goddess!’ she gasped at the sight of the enormous appendage jutting forth from the lowest part of her pelvis. Fresh sweat beaded up along her hairline and she felt dazed as she approached her pet from behind.

“‘Angelus,’ My Mistress,” Buffy immediately complied, though the question was evident in her voice. Tara had never before asked that of her pet in the midst of play.

Tara slowly walked around the tanned blonde until her choice in toys came into line of sight.

“Do you need to use your safeword, Pet?” Tara asked with deliberate gentleness.

“Oh God ... oh God,” Buffy softly panted, likely not even aware of her verbalization.

“Slayer, do you need to use your safeword?” Tara again asked, her own respiration increasing its tempo to match Buffy’s.

Heat ran through Tara’s body at the capitulation, and her legs nearly gave way. “Ten hard swats,” she managed to speak with only a slight tremor. “You’ll count them out,” she added as she walked around to stand behind and just left of her pet.

Tara swung the paddle with nearly all her might, knowing even her best — unless aided by magic — wouldn’t really harm her incredible pet.

Tara kept each swat in nearly the same spot, creating a wide, hot, red stripe right where she knew it would have the most contact with her leather-clad pelvis when she slid her strap-on into the slayer’s increasingly wet sex.

Tara waited just a moment, still a little intimidated by the enormity of what she was about to put into her lover.

‘Why, that little vixen!’ she thought with a grin as Buffy went onto tip-toes to thrust her ass up and down. ‘She’s practically begging me!’

‘Well, who am I to deny the chosen one?’ she thought, grabbing Buffy’s hips and pushing into her lover in one long, slow, drawn-out thrust.

“Holy God, Mistress!” Buffy let out a shriek as Tara bottomed out, pressing against the red stripe left by the paddle.

Tara paused again for just a moment. A broad, happy smile grew on her face when Buffy once again did not take advantage of the moment to use her safe word. “Love you, Slayer!” she cried, then immediately set a fast pace of short strokes, making sure to slap against that heated line with each thrust.

‘Goddess, I’m going to cum!’ she realized with surprise. Normally the minimal stimulation on her clit from the harness wasn’t sufficient to push her into orgasm, but this entire scene had her in a hyper-excited state. “Cum, Pet!” she shouted even as the tremors of pleasure began to ripple through her body.

Buffy’s scream as she obeyed was drowned out by the loud crack of splintering wood.

“You know what we need to do?” Xander said, ignoring the redhead’s question.

“What’s that, Xan?” Dawn asked, happy to support her boyfriend’s attempt to change the subject.

“We need to get rid of these guys and get some sleep,” Xander said. “This has been a really, really long day ... for both of us.”

“You can’t just get rid of us,” the man on the couch interjected, sounding agitated. “There’s a dead body here, and even if it was self-defense—” His voice sounded skeptical.

“Hey!” Dawn exclaimed. “It *was* self-defense! Ask her if you don’t believe me,” she added, pointing toward the redheaded CSI who suddenly cowered into the corner of the couch.

“Any death under suspicious circumstances has to be investigated; all the questions have to be answered,” he said as though she hadn’t even spoken. “And, I have a lot of questions.”

“Hold on there, buster!” Willow apparently found her voice. “You died? How did you die and why aren’t you not alive anymore? I mean, not that I’m not happy to see you not dead, ’cause I am! In fact the thought of you being not alive is upsetting in general and even more so in specific — that being that you actually did die,”

‘Oh God, poor Willow,’ Dawn thought, knowing exactly how the redhead must feel. ‘Xander dead is a very upsetting thing; kinda like being stabbed through the heart with a sharpened two-by-four.’

“Hey now,” Xander said soothingly, pulling his best friend since childhood into his arms, whereupon she immediately began to weep against his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay, Wil. I’m here, I’m alive,” Xander murmured, sounding on the verge of crying himself.

‘That’s the sweetest thing,’ Dawn thought, not feeling any jealousy, but rather sympathy and love for both her lover and her dear friend.

“Um, can I ask how is it exactly that you aren’t dead anymore?” the brunette on the couch spoke up hesitantly.

“No,” Xander answered her curtly, not even turning to look at the couch. His voice dropped to a soft whisper as he spoke again to Willow, “Hey, Wil, how about we get rid of these guys and then we can talk about ... um ... the other stuff, ’kay?”

Willow stepped back slightly, sniffling loudly. “Okay,” she said softly, clearly still overcome by emotion. “Um ... how do we...?” she trailed off, nodding her head toward the three crime scene investigators sitting on the couch.

Xander reached out to Dawn and drew her in toward himself and Willow so they were huddled very closely together.

Dawn hugged Willow to her side, giving her a sympathetic look, and was rewarded by a teary smile.

“Well, the way I figure it, no body, no investigation, right?” Xander whispered.

“How do we get rid of, um ... it?” Dawn asked quietly. Another thought struck her and she added, “And how do we keep the three stooges over there from, you know, getting in the way?”

“Don’t worry about that,” Willow said with a more substantial grin. “They’re not still sitting on the couch just ’cause it’s comfy.”

“Hey,” Willow interjected, sounding like an idea had just struck her. “Do you two think you could do that fire thing again?”

“Um,” she temporized, thinking about it as she reached out magically, testing her energy. “Yeah,” she answered, surprised by what she found. “In fact, I feel like I’ve got a lot more than I usually have.”

“Hmm,” Willow hummed with a thoughtful frown. She looked back and forth between Dawn and Xander for a moment as though considering something. Finally she shook her head slightly and said, “We can look into that later. Right now, if you can do it, I think that would be plenty hot enough to, um ... get rid of ... the problem.”

“Burn it?” Xander sounded skeptical. “I hate to be the naysayer here, but I gotta say nay. People’d notice that smell, plus we’d set off the smoke alarms for sure. Even if we burned it beyond recognition, it’d still, you know, be a dead body, just a char-broiled one,” he added with a grimace.

“No!” Willow whispered excitedly. “I’m not sure how you managed not to set the building on fire with that stuff, I mean it was seriously hot! If you can create that fire, and ... well ... apply it to that, uh, the body....” Her face fell as she trailed off, apparently upset at the concept of the dead body.

“Oh, yeah,” Willow refocused on the subject. “It wouldn’t just burn. I’m pretty sure there’s enough energy in that fire to completely destroy it — like, on a molecular level — not even ash would be left.”

“I don’t have that kind of power?” Dawn said questioningly, amazed at the concept.

“I was surprised too,” Willow answered. “It didn’t radiate any heat at all, but when I reached into it to get to you two, I had to up my shielding higher than I’ve ever done before! It was like the fire kept the energy self contained unless something came into physical contact with it, and then it was like touching the sun!”

“My amazing kitten,” Xander said with naked pride on his face, causing her to blush.

«Mmm, we get rid of these clowns and I’ll show you amazing!» she thought to him.

“We’re gonna have to work on some kind of privacy shield or something,” Dawn muttered, looking at Xander ruefully.

«If she’s gonna eavesdrop, she’s gonna just have to deal with what she hears,» Xander thought to her with a salacious grin.

“Hey!” Willow hissed. “I’m not eavesdropping, you two are just broadcasting too loud!”

“Anyway,” Dawn chuckled. “Let’s get this done and get rid of these people!”

As one, the three of them broke apart. Dawn stepped toward the body and stared at it for a moment. ‘Hmm, still no guilt,’ she thought as she pondered the situation. ‘God help me, I’m actually glad he’s dead.’

She raised her hands slightly, confidently reaching for her new-found power as she did.

“What the?” she muttered in shock. ‘It’s gone!’ she thought, turning to look at Willow bewilderedly.

The redhead just nodded. “I thought so,” she said, as though that explained everything.

“Xan, go hold Dawn,” Willow instructed. At his questioning look, she added, “Just stand behind her and hug her to you.”

The moment his arms wrapped around her, Dawn felt that deep well of power suddenly appear.

“What are you doing,” the man on the couch questioned, sounding suddenly distressed.

Unable to help herself, Dawn looked over at him with a smirk. “No body, no crime,” she answered.

“No crime, no investigation,” Xander added with an equal smirk in his voice.

“No investigation, no annoying crime-scene investigators,” Willow’s sardonic quip completed the thought.

Before anyone else could comment, Dawn unleashed the green fire that was somehow a product of her connection with Xander. It enveloped her hands, and she then directed it toward the body.

The three on the couch gasped as a sheet of green flame laid upon the corpse for a moment, and then collapsed as though under the influence of gravity. Once it reached the floor, it disappeared, leaving behind empty space as though nothing had been there in the first place. There wasn’t even a wisp of smoke, or a spot of ash left behind to commemorate the fact that a man had died in that spot.

“Right,” she said, again casting out the energy from her hands to erase the gun from existence. ‘Wow!’ she thought, amazed at what she’d just done.

‘Catherine’s definitely not taking this well,’ Sara thought, hurrying to keep pace with her co-worker as she strode out of the casino. Tuning her gaze to her supervisor, she thought, ‘Grissom looks like he can’t decide whether to be angry or fascinated.’

“Catherine, are you okay?” Grissom asked, the moment they’d escaped the noise of the casino floor.

The redhead didn’t answer verbally. She just hugged her arms around herself and began to walk even faster.

“Catherine?” Grissom asked again, reaching out to put a hand on her shoulder.

“Don’t!” she shouted, spinning around to glare at him with venom in her gaze.

Her eyes moved to take in Grissom’s stunned countenance. He gaped at her silently.

“No,” Catherine answered, sounding near tears. “I — I have to go,” she added, suddenly turning and running away from the other two CSIs.

“I dunno, Grissom,” Sara answered his unspoken question. “I think she needs some alone-time right now.”

“What about you?” he asked, turning back to face her. “How are you handling this?”

“About the same as you, I guess,” Sara said, shaking her head and resuming the walk towards the parking garage.

“A little confused,” she answered. “Not sure I can believe I saw what I saw. A little pissed off.”

“Two dead bodies disappear, one apparently walking around on its own power, the other one ... evaporated — disintegrated — right in front of us?” she rambled.

“You know,” she interrupted, “I’m right there with you on the whole ‘dead bodies don’t get up and walk around’ thing, but that’s the same guy Catherine and I found laying on the sidewalk on Freemont street. Plus, you saw how the girl reacted ... she was shocked to see him. And the way she acted back at the scene after the shooting? I don’t know if anyone could fake the kind of devastation I saw in those eyes ... and now it’s gone — she was beyond happy to see him.” She took a deep breath and concluded, “That’s the same guy.”

“It is,” she agreed. “So are most of the other things we’ve seen in the last couple hours.”

“You realize, of course,” he started with a sardonic voice. “The most likely explanation is that this is all some kind of hallucination.”

“No,” Grissom answered. “Most likely I’ve fallen and hit my head at some point, or perhaps I was exposed to some sort of chemical or drug,” he began to explain.

“So ... I’m just a figment of your imagination?” Sara asked incredulously.

‘If I was imagining this, you’d be tied to my bed, I’d be riding you till I broke through that mask of reserve you always wear and you screamed my name!’ Sara felt her face grow warm at the thought.

“Presuming everything we saw was really ... well ... real,” she soldiered on, ignoring her brief foray into fantasy. “What do we do about it?”

“Sara, I honestly don’t know,” Grissom answered, sounding very unhappy about the fact.

“No ... no ... please, don’t leave me!” the piteous cry woke Xander from a fitful sleep.

“Wha?” he grunted as he blinked his eyes into focus. ‘Where am I?’ he wondered for a moment.

“Dawn?” he asked, reaching over to his lover as the events of the last day came back to him all at once. “Oh, kitten, I’m right here!”

He pulled her into his arms even as tears began to spill out from his eyes. “Shh, kitten. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.”

He could just make out her eyes fluttering open in the dim light. “Right here,” he softly reassured her, stroking his hands up and down her back.

“I ... I didn’t mean to,” he stammered, unsure how to answer. “But, I’m back. Somehow I’m back.”

“You are,” she sighed, the relief clear in her voice. “Thank God!” she wrapped him in a tight embrace.

He could feel the wetness on his chest as she wept against him. “I love you so much, Dawn. I guess not even death is enough to keep me away from you.”

“Love me, Xander!” she cried before starting a trail of kisses up his chest and neck.

“Always!” he replied, rolling them over and sliding into her as though he belonged nowhere else.

“Oh!” she grunted out breathily as he bottomed out inside of her. “Oh, I was so afraid I’d never feel you in me again!”

‘That would be hell!’ he thought to himself as he reveled in the joy of making love to his more-than-girlfriend.

His intention to maintain a slow, steady rhythm was soon disrupted as Dawn wrapped her legs around him and began to pull him into her, all the while chanting “Harder, harder! More, Xander, more!”

“Holy!” he gasped out, shocked at the feel of her nails digging into his back. ‘My kitten’s a wild-cat this morning!’ he thought, not at all displeased. He began to drive himself into her as if trying to make them one-flesh literally.

She screamed her release with wild abandon, undulating her body against his like a giant serpent.

“Ahh! Dawn!” Xander shouted as he felt her nails scratching deep furrows along his back. The pain drove him over the edge just a moment after her and he came powerfully before collapsing against her, totally spent.

“Love you ... so much,” Xander mumbled with each exhalation as he slowly recovered. As soon as he had the barest amount of strength available, he pushed himself off of her to collapse onto his back.

“Mmm,” Dawn hummed languidly, following it up with a sensual, catlike, full-body stretch. “There’s no way I could’ve lived without that in my life,” she muttered as she rolled up against him, using his shoulder as a pillow and draping one leg over his.

“Uh huh,” Xander sighed in agreement, still feeling too little energy to do more than lay there breathing deeply.

“Blood!” she cried, waving her hand in his face. “Look, I have blood on my fingers, and under my nails! Xander, did I hurt you?” she demanded.

“Oh, um—” he forced his mind to process something other than his blissful lassitude. “You, uh ... scratched me, I think,” he answered. “When you came?” he added, trying to prompt her memory.

“Oh, s’okay, kitten,” he said reassuringly. He wiggled his back against the sheets and added, “Doesn’t even hurt.” ‘Plus I came like a freight train!’ he added in his mind.

Though reluctant to move, he did as she asked. ‘She must have really got me,’ he thought as he felt the sheets stick to his back. ‘Hmm, doesn’t hurt, though.’

“Oh man, there’s blood on the sheets,” she muttered. “Oh, and all over your back! God, I’m so sorry, sugar bear.”

“Don’t worry, Dawn. I don’t mind my kitten having claws,” he joked, trying to make her feel better.

“Xan.” Her reproving tone managed to convey both her regret at hurting him and her mild exasperation with his joke in one short word.

“Is it bad?” he asked. “’Cause I gotta tell ya, for a guy who got shot in the back, and then clawed in the back, I actually feel pretty darn good.”

“Hmm,” she continued muttering. “Let me grab a washcloth; don’t move,” she instructed as she climbed off the bed and headed for the bathroom.

He was nearly asleep again when he felt a warm, wet sensation on his back. “Mmm, feels good,” he mumbled with a sleepy smile.

“Well ... why don’t you come into the bathroom?” she asked, sounding slightly worried.

“Mmmph, dunno, Dawn,” he protested slightly. “Pretty comfy right here. What’s in it for me?”

He couldn’t help but smile at the smirking tone of her voice. He turned his head toward her and couldn’t help but gasp, even though he’d expected exactly that: Dawn, standing bare-ass naked, wearing only a smirk and a raised eyebrow. ‘Even the bloody washcloth does nothing to detract,’ he mused in wonder.

“Dawnie, where you’re concerned, you’re damn right I’m easy. Hell, I’m a sure thing!” he said emphatically. He punctuated his comment with a playful slap on her naked ass.

“Hey!” she protested for all of a second before her look softened and she added, “I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

“Want me to show you just how easy I can be?” he asked lasciviously, the sight of her retreating backside causing him to harden. ‘I have a hard enough time seeing that in clothes and not getting wood!’ he lamented.

“First, look at your back,” she said as she pulled a hand-mirror out of her bag and handed it to him. “Then we’ll take advantage of that big shower again!”

‘Oh yeah!’ he thought happily as he remembered yesterday’s long shower. He took the mirror and turned to look at the reflection of his back in the bathroom mirror. “Wow,” he said at first, seeing that most of his back was red from partially wiped-away blood. “You really nailed me, no pun intended,” he mused aloud.

He frowned and stepped back closer to the bathroom mirror. ‘What the heck?’ he thought as he turned slightly to and fro. “Uh, where’s the scratches?” he asked.

He nodded absently before putting down the mirror and turning to face her. His eyes automatically roved up and down her creamy-white body and suddenly the mystery of his back diminished in importance. “Damn, Dawn!” he grunted.

“You are so amazingly beautiful!” he exclaimed. “I never get over how sexy you are!”

She licked her lips and then tossed the washcloth aside. “Willow can wait,” she said breathily. “After all, we should take a shower and clean you up,” she added.

The fact that her eyes were locked onto his erect cock as she mentioned ‘cleaning’ did not go unnoticed.

“We gotta ... get a place ... with a giant—” Dawn’s gasped commentary was broken up as Xander repeatedly kissed her mouth. “Water heater!” she finished.

Warm water poured down on the pair as they made out in the shower. Xander’s hands wandered her body as he teased her, one hand presently reaching between her legs from behind while the other slid over her wet breast, pinching and twisting her nipple and areola like he knew she loved.

“Demand heater,” he answered back between kisses. “Never-ending supply.”

‘Oh yes, I am so the man!’ he thought with pride and joy at the wild, wanton look on her face.

“Like this,” she said, nodding firmly and then turning and bending over. She grabbed one of the ‘accessibility’ hand-bars with both hands to support her upper body and spread her legs so that her ass was sticking up in the air higher than any other part of her.

“Muh, nyeah!” Xander half whimpered, half groaned in fervent agreement at the incredible sight.

Not bothering with verbal acknowledgement, Xander grabbed her hips and slid deep inside her with one quick stroke.

Despite most of his higher brain functions being disabled, Xander’s body responded to his lover’s entreaty. He sped up his thrusts, their wet bodies slapping together loudly.

“Yes! Yes!” she cried, pushing back into him to meet his plunging strokes. “Oh God, harder, sugar!” she squealed unabashedly.

With a lusty growl, he wrapped one hand around her waist, splayed against her pelvis to jerk her toward him. Though he’d never done it before, he suddenly began to rain loud slaps down against her flank and butt cheek with his other hand as he furiously pumped into her hot, wet body.

“Oh yes!” she screeched at the top of her lungs as he felt her clamp down hard on his cock.

A few moments later he was about to follow her into oblivion when she panted, “Wait! I want it in my mouth!”

“Doh, gah!” he cried out as she pulled away and spun around, dropping to her knees and instantly latching onto the head of his dick with her lips.

He hadn’t even noticed her hand sneaking up between his legs when suddenly he felt her finger push up into his ass.

“Dawn!” he shrieked her name at the top of his lungs as she rubbed his prostate while sucking hard on his dick.

Once more it felt like his brain was being sucked out the end of his cock while he pumped jet after jet of hot cum into his lover’s mouth.

He was barely aware that she managed to stay with him as he collapsed back onto the bench on the other side of the shower. “Yeaaghhaaghaagh” he cried with a full body shudder as she slowly slurped up and down his softening prick.

“Mmmm!” she hummed with delight as she released him with a slippery-pop and licked her lips with evident relish. “God I love doing that to you,” she crooned happily.

“Ungh ... ohyeah,” he groaned as he tried to lift his head up to focus on her. “Oh yeah, much loving that,” he managed to be almost coherent after a moment.

When they finally managed to get dressed and went out to join Willow in the living area, all they found was a note written on the hotel stationary.

Dear Horndogs,

Meet me in the cafe when you finally come up for air.

Love,
Willow.

P.S. Your next lesson is mental shielding, missy!

Dawn was still giggling as they approached the table at which Willow was waiting.

“You so have no room to be upset,” Xander started off as they sat down. His tone was only half joking.

At Willow’s look of incredulity, Dawn chimed in, “You’re just frustrated ’cause Tara and Buffy weren’t around to help you, uh, scratch the itch.”

“What, you’re channeling Faith now?” Willow asked Dawn in surprise. “And you, mister,” she rounded back on him. “Whaddya mean I don’t have the right to be upset? I can be upset if I want.”

“Uh uh,” Xander corrected with a smirk. “Tell it to someone who wasn’t at ground zero when Buffy set off ‘little miss orgasma-bomb!’” he said, dropping his own verbal-detonation.

Willow’s face fell. “Oh ... yeah. I kinda ... well, I didn’t think of that.”

“Mmmhmm,” Xander hummed. ‘Match point to Team Xander,’ he thought smugly.

“Nice segue,” Dawn teased. “I still can’t believe you never told me that story!”

“Oh, um ... can we get back to the part where you died?” Willow asked with an earnest tone.

‘No avoiding it, I suppose,’ he thought with a sigh. “Well, we were at the Fairmont Street Experience when this black truck pulled up really slowly and the window came down ... somehow I just knew something bad was about to happen. I grabbed Dawn and turned us around so I was between her and the truck.”

He took a deep breath and glanced over at Dawn to see her eyes glistening with moisture. He looked away before tears threatened to spill from his own. “I remember hearing what sounded like firecrackers ... funny, I would have thought it would be louder, what with the enclosed area.”

“He had a silencer,” Dawn said softly. “I saw it when he was going to kill me.”

Choking back a gulp at the thought of Dawn being dead, Xander continued with a raspy edge in his voice. “I felt the pain in my back, and I started to fall ... I couldn’t move to catch myself. Then I....” He trailed off, thinking of the horror and sadness that he’d felt. ‘So don’t want to revisit that,’ he decided.

“Then, that was it,” he said, pausing to clear his throat before continuing. “Next thing I know, I’m waking up in a dark box and seriously freaking out before I figured out it was a morgue drawer and not a coffin.” He laughed despite the pain of the recollection. “You can’t imagine how happy I was when I felt the tray roll in the drawer and figured it out. I shoved so hard that the tray rolled out and I fell off onto the floor.”

Xander looked up, about to ask what she meant when he was stopped cold at the sight of tears rolling down his best friend’s face.

“About five hours,” Dawn answered, sounding choked up herself. “God, it felt so much longer than that.”

“Maybe God likes me after all,” he said with a smile. “He brought me back to you.”

She smiled warmly back at him. “I don’t really care how or why, I’m just happy you are.”

Willow sniffled loudly and then grabbed a handful of napkins to wipe off her face. “Actually, I think I have an idea about that,” she said.

“You have a theory?” Xander’s voice conveyed his surprise. “But you just found out that I ... you know....” He trailed off.

‘I know just how you feel,’ Dawn thought when she saw the look of sadness that the redhead wore like a mourning veil. ‘Even after this morning, I don’t think my heart has completely stopped hurting that he was gone in the first place.’

“I’m just that smart,” Willow replied, not so successfully attempting levity.

“I figured it out when Dawn was talking about having more power than she was used to having,” Willow went on, apparently ignoring for the moment the sadness she was so clearly feeling. “Then, when she couldn’t reach it, I realized it must be something to do with both of you.”

‘The fire ... that first night together,’ Dawn thought. ‘Oh no, the damned Key!’

‘Somehow I managed to infect Xander and the Key is in both of us now,’ she realized, even as Willow again spoke.

“I think that somehow the energy from the Key is in both you guys,” the redhead confirmed Dawn’s worried thoughts in a quiet voice. “I think that’s why the fire was coming from you both; why you couldn’t feel that extra power without Xander touching you.”

“And you think that’s how I ... uh, came back?” Xander questioned in an equally low tone.

“Exactly,” Willow’s face showed growing excitement as she continued to expound. “If I’m right, that’s exactly what brought you back. The energy is what gave Dawnie life; it’s her life-force.”

‘Of course, if it keeps Xander alive ... maybe it’s not a bad thing after all,’ Dawn thought, suddenly feeling better about the situation.

“So you’re saying now it’s in me too?” Xander said with a look of surprise.

“It makes sense,” Willow explained. “That’s why the fire that surrounded the two of you yesterday was coming from both of you. It’s why Dawn couldn’t call it forth again without you touching her.”

Looking thoughtful, Willow paused for a moment before answering. “I think that the shared life-force means that one of you can’t die ... or stay dead, anyway ... if the other is still alive?”

Dawn smiled at the slight blush that stained Xander’s cheeks as he looked back toward Willow. ‘Poor baby,’ she thought even as she felt her own face grow warm.

“I scratched him ... um, pretty hard,” Dawn started to explain, blushing even more strongly. ‘God, this is embarrassing ... and I’m getting turned on by it!’ she realized with chagrin.

“That’s not important,” Xander muttered. “What’s important is that it healed up without a trace.”

Still looking confused, Willow said, “Then how do you know she scratched you?”

“And, there was blood, after I mean.” Dawn hurriedly added. “Kinda all over ... but when I tried to clean off his back with a washcloth, there were no marks at all.”

“His back?” Willow questioned. A moment later realization struck and she blushed twice as hard as the other two. “Oh! I ... during ... right, I get it.”

“So, you think that’s the same thing? ’Cause I’ve got the Key in me too?” Xander asked.

“Well, I guess that makes sense too ... if it’s enough to regenerate you even after ... you know ... then it makes sense that little injuries would be healed even faster,” Willow answered.

A memory struck Dawn at that moment. “I want to give you everything that I am; I want to make love to you and share myself with you completely,” she said softly.

“What?” Xander asked, startled. Willow didn’t say anything, but her eyes grew wide at Dawn’s statement.

A warm smile stole across her features at the recollection. “Remember, Xan?” she asked. “That amazing night on Catalina? I said that to you right before we made love for the first time.”

His eyes unfocused for a moment, and then a look of recollection appeared on his face. “Yeah, I remember,” he said with a note of fondness in his voice.

“It was,” Dawn agreed with a grin. “But I also remember how I was feeling when I said it — I mean, beyond the whole sexy-romantic thing.”

“I felt centered ... focused,” she explained. “Like when we’re casting.”

Xander’s hand reached out to grasp hers. “But ... that’s not gonna hurt you, is it?” he asked anxiously.

‘God, how I love this man,’ she thought, her eyes welling with joyful tears. ‘Always putting me first.’

“No, it should be fine!” Willow answered sounding happy. “I’d really like to test it to see, but I think that it means both of you should have the same heally thingy now.”

“But, I’ve never had any special healing before,” Dawn said, thinking back. ‘Of course, I’m not really sure when my life really started, and what was just the fake memories.’

“See, I think it’s not just the Key; it’s ’cause it’s in you both now,” Willow explained.

“I’m not sure I understand it either,” she agreed. “I mean, I’ve always been the Key, but I’ve had cuts and stuff before and they didn’t heal like Xander did.”

“Well, that’s just it!” Willow expounded excitedly. “It’s the whole sharing thing. As long as one of you is healthy, I think the energy works to return the other one to the same state. It’s trying to restore a state of equilibrium.”

“Well, I’m not sure,” Willow said, growing if anything even more excited. “We’ll have to do some experiments and see. Does it have to be at the same time? Is it anything, as long as it’s both of you, or does it have to be the exact same thing, in the exact same place, or what?”

The two lovers were silent for a moment in the face of Willow’s exuberance, then Xander quipped, “Suddenly I’m seeing things from a guinea-pig’s point of view.”

“Don’t worry, Xan. I won’t let the big bad witch hurt you!” Dawn teased.

“Thank you for coming in this afternoon, Tara,” Giles began as he watched the blonde witch reshelve some books that had been left on the Magic Box’s central table from the last research session. “Quentin will be stopping by on his way out of town, and I imagine he’ll want to speak privately in order to ‘reveal the truth’ about Beth and Alex.”

“It’s no problem,” Tara said with a soft smile. “Willow doesn’t get back until late this evening anyway, and it gives Buffy a chance for some ‘mom-time’ with Joyce.”

“Yes, well,” he gave a slight shrug, very slightly ill at ease. ‘Of all of the children, I don’t think I’ve actually spent any time with Tara without Willow or Buffy present,’ he thought with sudden realization. ‘Even after all this time I don’t actually know her very well.’

“I never imagined that I would miss Anya’s presence in any way; however, she was at least a competent assistant when it came to minding the store,” he muttered, unusually garrulous in his discomfort. “I suppose I’ll have to break down and post an opening and begin looking for a replacement.”

“Of course, Tara,” he said, surprised at her hesitancy. “And, please; it’s just Giles.”

She smiled and dropped her gaze slightly. “Okay ... Giles. Um, about the store, I just wondered why ... well, why bother with it at all?”

“Well, I mean, it isn’t as though you need the money....” She trailed off.

“I suppose ... well,” he took off his glasses and began to clean them. “I hadn’t actually considered that,” he admitted.

“If it’s the training room, we have plenty of space that we aren’t using at our house,” she continued on.

“And, being a residence,” he added as he considered the idea, “it does offer the natural protection against vampiric intrusion.”

“Exactly,” she agreed. “Not that there’s anything wrong with running the shop,” she suddenly temporized. “It’s just that ... well ... it seems to be an inconvenience sometimes.”

“It’s nothing, just a thought,” she said softly and went back to reshelving.

‘I am uncertain about giving it up entirely ... perhaps what I need is someone to manage the store in my place,’ he thought. ‘All the benefits of ownership without the bother ... I wonder how Joyce might feel about it?’

‘Bloody marvelous,’ he thought with resignation as Quentin and his lackey entered the store. ‘Let the play begin.’

Forcing his features into a mask of placid amiability, Giles stepped out to greet the man who was, ostensibly, his employer.

“Well, Quentin, was your inspection satisfactory?” Giles asked pleasantly. Mentally, he added ‘You bloody pillock!’ while struggling to suppress his body’s natural desire to strangle the older watcher.

“Hmm,” Travers hummed with a sour look on his face. “I’m afraid I need to discuss something with you. A rather delicate ... situation.”

“I see,” he replied, pretending to be unaware of Quentin’s ‘situation.’ “Why don’t we step into my office?”

Giles gestured for the senior watcher to precede him into the office, and then followed, closing the door behind him.

“What did you need to tell me?” Giles asked as he moved around to sit at his small desk.

Quentin, not surprisingly, remained standing. “When the council agreed to release the second slayer from prison, it was over the rather strenuous objections of several members.”

“Yes, well ... in order to help ensure that we wouldn’t have another rogue situation arise, it was decided that we would provide some ... assistance ... to the slayer.”

“Assistance?” Giles had no problems looking surprised, though it was more at the audacity of the man before him than at the supposed revelation.

“We were able to attain the services of a pair of counselors ... trained and experienced in dealing with combat veterans,” Quentin continued.

“I see,” Giles said flatly. “And when do you plan to subject Faith to these ‘counselors’?”

“Ahh, yes, well that is the issue in question,” Quentin said, apparently trying to sound apologetic.

‘I suppose I should be relieved to see that you still can’t lie with any sort of credibility,’ Giles thought. ‘You right bastard!’

“You see, we’ve already had them in place for several months now,” Quentin ‘revealed.’

A much better actor than his visitor, Giles paused to grit his teeth, remove his glasses and slowly withdraw his handkerchief before cleaning his glasses with a dramatic sigh. “I presume you are referring to the couple with whom Faith has recently established a relationship?”

“That’s a rather genteel way of describing the situation,” Quentin said with a dry chuckle.

“And why the *bloody* hell wasn’t I informed?” Giles demanded, acting the part to the full. “Am I not supposed to be the girl’s watcher?”

Quentin’s tone was aggravatingly paternal as he answered, “Frankly, Rupert, there are some who don’t completely trust that you have the council’s best interests at heart.”

‘You chief among them no doubt, you complete prat!’ Giles thought, hiding a smile behind the act of replacing his glasses. ‘Of course, you aren’t at all mistaken. I certainly place little value on the council’s objectives. Instead I waste my time on such lesser considerations as fighting the forces of darkness and saving the world.’

“I cannot undo the past, Rupert,” Quentin went on, oblivious to Giles momentary lack of response. “I wanted you to be aware of the situation now so that you might help smooth over any suspicions the junior slayer might develop.”

‘You won’t even say her name, you bloody wanker,’ Giles quietly seethed. ‘And yet you sit there and pretend that you have Faith’s best interests in mind. Even if I hadn’t had prior knowledge, I suspect I would have by now realized your true intent in “bringing me into your confidence” as it were.’

“Obviously she mustn’t discover their allegiance to the council,” he continued, spinning his ‘influence’ with a decidedly heavy hand. “I somehow doubt she would trust that we have only her best interests at heart. Keeping such close watch on her is the only way we can be certain that she’s continuing to fight on the side of angels.”

‘Laying it on bloody thick, aren’t you?’ Giles marveled at Quentin’s mendaciousness.

“I see ... well,” he muttered annoyed. ‘Good thing he’ll misinterpret the cause of my anger ... I don’t believe I’d be able to hide it any further without reaching out to throttle the bastard!’

“I’m sure you’ll take the appropriate precautions, Rupert,” Quentin added with a smarmy smile.

“Well, I fear I must depart if I’m to be on time for my flight,” Quentin said, moving to the door and opening it. “I’ll just see myself out, then.”

“This is nice,” Joyce Summers sighed, leaning back into her chair as the pedicurist finished massaging her left foot and started on her right.

“Mmm, I have to say, this whole ‘being rich’ thing? Definitely of the good,” Buffy agreed happily as she underwent the same treatment in the adjoining seat.

“So is this going to be a new habit? Every time you bring me bad news, we go to the day-spa?” Joyce asked, her voice a mix of amusement and bitterness.

The pregnant silence caused her to look over toward her mother and she winced slightly at the outraged incredulity she saw.

“Someone tried to k ... hurt ... your sister. Again!” Joyce said in a low voice. “Is that supposed to be good news?”

“But ... tried,” Buffy sputtered. “Bad news would be if they actually—”

‘Poor Mom,’ Buffy thought sadly as Joyce closed her eyes and dropped her head back against the chair with another sigh.

“I don’t know whether to be more relieved or frightened that I actually agree with that sentiment,” Joyce said softly.

“I worry about her too,” Buffy allowed. “I think I get a little bit of how you must feel ... I always thought you were overreacting when you worried about me ... but now—”

They sat in silence for several moments while their feet were dried and prepped for nail polish.

“I do feel a little better though, knowing that Dawnie ... um—” she paused, glancing at the spa workers before finishing her thought. “That she can, you know, take care of herself?” Buffy opined.

“Hmm, that’s a toughie ... I’m guess I’m glad she can take care of herself,” Joyce agreed grudgingly. “I just wish she didn’t have to.”

“Both of you, actually,” Joyce went on with only a smile for her daughter’s less-than-witty rejoinder. “I hate that you and Dawn had to be a part of this ... this ... madness, but I am so proud of you for the incredible courage you’ve shown ... for not turning away from it ... for—” She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Oh God!’ Buffy thought, a surge of warm emotion causing tears to start at her eyes.

“I can only imagine how horrible ... and how wonderful ... it must feel to do what you do,” Joyce said with an emotional voice.

“Wow,” Buffy breathed. “I never knew you felt like that ... I ... I always thought you hated it.”

“I worry about you ... and I worry about Dawn. I hate that these ... things ... even exist, but they do and you ... you stop them. I ... you’re so strong, I could never have done what you do.” She looked down with a blush. “I’m probably not making any sense ... I just thought of it, and I realized I had probably never told you that, and I wanted to make sure you knew.”

Buffy smiled broadly. “Thank you. That’s ... that’s just ... thank you!” she stammered, overwhelmed by the unexpected subject and subsequent emotion.

“Promise me you’ll let Willow and Tara help keep you safe,” Joyce whispered softly. “I want to keep being proud of you for a long, long time.”

“I promise,” Buffy said. ‘For the first time since I got called, I feel like I could actually live long enough to die of old age,’ she thought happily.

As she approached the front counter to pay for their treatments, Buffy was still basking in the glow of maternal pride coming from her mother.

The owner of the spa was having a whispered conversation in with a younger woman. ‘Even if I did speak Vietnamese, I don’t think I could follow that,’ Buffy thought as the two spoke at what sounded like incredibly high speeds.

‘Hmm, she looks familiar for some reason,’ the slayer thought as she observed the younger one subtly gesturing her way as she made some point to the elder. ‘Maybe she’s cut my hair before? Oh well, whatever.’

“Here you go,” Buffy said, holding out her debit card with a smile. ‘So very nice to not even have to ask how much it cost ... I didn’t even realize how much I’d missed having money,’ she mused.

“No, no ... no charge for you,” the elder lady said, bowing deeply toward the slayer. “Is on the house, yes?”

“What’s wrong, honey?” her mother asked, just then approaching the three women.

“She says she isn’t charging us,” Buffy said with a confused pout. ‘How come this kind of thing never happened when I was broke?’ she thought petulantly.

“Oh!” Buffy said with sudden realization. “I remember you now, last month at the Bronze—”

“You Chosen One. Is honor to serve you, yes?” the older lady said questioningly, again with a deep bow.

“Oh, um,” Buffy blinked in confusion. She looked for guidance to her mother and nearly wept at the even more strongly maternal pride showing on her face. She turned back to the spa-owner and said, “I ... Yes?”

“Okay ... um, thank you,” Buffy offered as she put her bank card back in her purse.

“Well, that was surreal,” Buffy muttered as they stepped out into the afternoon sun.

“Uh, no,” Buffy stated emphatically. “Usually they just run away without even a thank you ... in fact, that’s what she did too.”

“Did it seem like she interrupted you in there,” Joyce asked after a moment. “When you were remembering the ... um ... incident?”

Buffy laughed. “Probably didn’t want her mother to know the position she’d gotten herself into.”

Buffy couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory. “I followed them out into the alley behind the Bronze ... by the time I’d gotten there, her shirt was already off, bra was missing and skirt was bunched up around her waist.”

“Oh dear,” Joyce said, blushing. “No, I don’t imagine she wanted you to recount that part of the story.”

“In her defense, he was really, really cute,” Buffy said with a grin. “If it weren’t for the no-heartbeat, evil-demon thing.”

“Hey,” Buffy protested. “I’m not looking to get a guy, but, you know ... a girl can window shop, right?”

Xander took his card back from the cashier and stepped out of the check-line before answering. “Yeah?”

“I was thinking I might do a little shopping while you and Willow go back to the room,” she said.

“Whaddya mean?” he asked with a slight frown, instinctively looking toward the restroom area where Willow had gone when they were preparing to leave the café.

“She tried to cover it up — with the being all excited about experimenting on us — but I think she’s pretty shaken up about the whole ‘you dying’ thing,” she explained.

She smiled warmly at him and answered his unspoken thought, “We had a chance to ‘reconnect’ this morning. I think Willow needs a chance to reconnect too, only with clothes on instead of off.”

“Hey, if there’s gonna be naked Willow, it better be when I’m there to enjoy it!” she said firmly.

She winked and grinned at him as though just kidding, “Keep dreaming, sugar.”

‘Hmm, I dunno,’ he thought at her attempt to play it off. ‘That sounded kinda like a Freudian slip to me.’

“Seriously though, look at her and tell me I’m wrong,” she said, gesturing with her chin toward the restrooms.

He looked once again to see Willow coming out of the ladies room. ‘She washed her face ... but Dawn’s right, I can see the redness around her eyes,’ he thought, recognizing from their shared childhood the look of recent tears on his friend’s face.

“You’re not wrong,” he said softly, feeling his own heart ache at the sight. Turning to face Dawn, he added, “You know, it’s not like you have to leave just so we can talk.”

“I know, but I think she’ll feel better about making with the hugs if I’m not there,” she explained. “And I trust you both not to do any fluking,” she added with a smirk.

Looking deep into his lover’s eyes, Xander spoke in a more serious tone. “You’re incredible, Dawn. I love you so much I can’t even begin to describe it.”

Her lower lip quivered slightly and she reached up to pull his head down. “I feel exactly the same,” she whispered, then punctuated it with a kiss.

His eyes slipped shut as she kissed him with slow passion. ‘Definitely more reconnecting later!’ he thought warmly.

“Okay, you two,” Willow’s voice interrupted them. “You’re broadcasting naughty thoughts again!”

“Right, like you mind,” Dawn said with a laugh after breaking away from Xander.

“Okay, anyway,” Dawn segued. “I’m gonna go do a little shopping and you two can’t come.” She instructed.

“Xander, because it’s going to be a surprise,” Dawn explained. “You, ’cause I don’t want you getting all worked up when your girlfriends aren’t around to ... you know, relieve your stress,” she added teasingly.

“Hey!” Willow again protested, this time blushing a deep pink all over her face and neck.

“Come on, Wil,” Xander said, wrapping one arm around the redhead’s back. “We’ll go hang out.”

“Maybe if you’re good, I can talk Dawnie into modeling whatever she gets for both of us,” he added in a teasing whisper as he guided her toward the elevators.

‘That blush tells me you wouldn’t be upset if I did,’ Xander thought smugly.

‘The silence is killing me,’ Xander thought as he watched Willow’s face again go through a series of emotions from sadness to anger to resolve. Virtually from the moment they had walked onto the elevator, Willow had seemed to turn her focus inward, leaving him to try and figure out her mood from her expression.

“So, I guess we should talk about it,” Xander said with a sigh as they sat on the couch and Willow remained silent.

“About what?” Willow asked, seemingly surprised at the interruption of her thoughts.

Almost immediately her face crumpled and she began bawling. “Xander! You died!”

An ache appeared in Xander’s chest like he’d been kicked by a vampire. He quickly slid over to wrap the weeping redhead in his arms, pulling her into his lap as he whispered, “Hey, it’s okay,” over and over.

“Wil?” he asked, taken aback by her vehemence as he leaned away to look her in the eyes.

“How was I supposed to deal, without you in my life?” she demanded, looking torn between anger and sorrow.

‘Where the hell did that come from?’ he thought, shocked at her protestation.

‘Obviously not,’ he thought, shaking his head both in answer, and in wonder at her behavior.

She reached up and cupped his face and with aching tenderness in her voice and expression said, “I don’t think I can be me without you in my life. I love you Xander!”

“Not like that,” she protested, looking exasperated. Then she frowned and looked away for a moment as she continued. “Well ... okay, maybe like that too.”

“But, what I meant was just ... you’re my Xander,” she said as though that explained everything.

‘Maybe it does,’ he thought, imagining what life would be like if it had been Willow that had died.

“I think I get it,” he whispered, looking into her eyes and seeing the love he felt for her reflected back to him. He once again pulled her close to him, leaning in till their foreheads touched and he could feel her breath on his face. “I love you too, Willow.”

After staring into each other’s eyes for an indeterminate amount of time she broke the silence. “Part of me really wants to kiss you right now,” she whispered breathily.

“Me too,” he whispered back, nearly groaning as she licked her lips. “I don’t think Tara and Buffy would be okay with that, though,” he added with a note of sadness in his voice.

“Only ’cause she’s not here to join us,” he added with a smirk, enjoying the way her eyes widened in shock.

“She told me,” he interrupted. “No naked Willow unless she was here to enjoy it.”

Willow’s eyes widened again — briefly — before a look of lust replaced the surprise. “She really said ... not just teasing you?” she asked, incredulous.

“Oh, she was definitely teasing me,” Xander said with a chuckle. “But I have no doubt that she would give it serious consideration if you weren’t, you know ... taken already.”

“Humph!” she grunted with a pout, laying her body up against his so her head was resting on his shoulder.

He closed his eyes and relaxed, keeping his arms around her slender body. ‘Man I missed this,’ he thought contentedly. ‘Being this close; holding her in my arms.’

“I almost wish Buffy and Dawnie weren’t sisters,” Willow muttered after a moment.

“’Cause then we could have you and Dawnie over for a nice Scooby-orgy,” she said with a sigh of longing.

“You’re killing me, Wil!” he complained, his cock stiffening uncomfortably in the confines of his jeans.

‘Looong gone is my shy, self-conscious little Willow,’ he thought with a melancholy smile, hugging her tightly to him and nuzzling his cheek against her forehead.

“Me too,” he answered back, knowing exactly what she meant. ‘This version’s pretty good too. She might be the most powerful person on the planet, but to me she’ll always be my Willow.’

“Arrogant ponce!” Giles growled once the outer door had closed behind Quentin and his assistant. He slipped his glasses back on and turned to Tara, muttering, “I nearly feel the need to air out the shop!”

“I say, what’s wrong, Tara? Did Quentin’s lackey do something, or-or say something?” he asked, concerned.

“I ... I’m not sure,” Tara answered softly, sounding puzzled. “It was strange.”

“Well, after you and Mr. Travers went into your office, he began to walk around, looking at the shelves, so I asked if I could help him with anything,” Tara began slowly recounting. “He looked in my direction, but his eyes kept avoiding looking directly at mine ... he said, ‘So, you’re Anya’s replacement then?’ but before I could even answer, he started ... I’m not sure. It was almost a rant, but he never raised his voice.”

“Well, he complained ... he said, ‘Mr. Giles certainly has let things go slack hereabouts. When Anya ran the shop things were kept ship-shape,’ then he started going on about how the herbal components weren’t ‘properly indexed.’ He almost seemed to be talking to himself more than to me,” she explained, shaking her head.

“How very odd indeed,” Giles muttered. “Jeremy was one of the watchers that came along with Quentin for Buffy’s ‘review’ back when we were first looking into the Glory situation. However ... I was not aware that he’d even noticed Anya, let alone taken an interest in any way.”

‘I wonder if we may not have been paying attention to the wrong watcher,’ he thought, mulling over the situation.

‘Damn, I hope Dawn gets back soon,’ Xander thought. ‘Wil’s driving me nuts!’

Following their conversation from earlier, Willow remained perched in Xander’s lap, laying up against his chest and using his shoulder as a pillow.

“So, are you flying back to SunnyD, or are you gonna do the teleport thing again?” Xander asked.

“No, just wondering,” he answered. “I just figured you’d want to leave before Dawn and I start ‘reconnecting’ again. You know, since you don’t want to join in the fun yourself.”

‘Mmm, smells good,’ he thought as he inhaled the scent of her hair. “Dunno, Wil. It hardly seems fair for you to watch us, when we can’t watch you,” he teased. “Besides, could you really see Dawn naked and not touch? I know I couldn’t!”

“I was just thinking; could you imagine us having a conversation like this back in high school?” he asked, still grinning madly.

“Oh my gosh! No way!” she said, blushing a little bit for the first time in the conversation. “Goddess, I think I would have spontaneously combusted if you talked to me about sex at all, let alone like we are now.”

“Even after vamp-me, I could barely think about maybe being gay, let alone bisexual, or in a multi-partner relationship,” she reflected. “Now it seems so normal ... I couldn’t imagine not being with both Tara and Buffy.”

A wide grin stole across his face. “Not to mention being tied up and spanked now and then,” he snarked.

“Now and then?” she shot right back, clearly unashamed. “Try almost always! Mistress doesn’t let a day go by without putting me in cuffs and cropping my ass till the color matches my hair!”

‘Damn, just when it was starting to relax!’ he thought, once again shifting uncomfortably.

A loud knock at the door interrupted their conversation, much to his relief. “Gotta get up, Wil,” he said with mixed feelings.

Another knock sounded out, along with a muffled feminine, “Hello? Is anybody in?”

The moment she was off of him, Xander hurriedly adjusted his partial erection, sighing with relief.

“No,” he answered, suddenly frowning. “No, I’m not. That means it’s probably the cops ... or another hit man!” he ended in a loud whisper, standing up and gesturing for her to stop. “Don’t open it!”

She frowned as he grew agitated. “Well, I’ll just put up a shield,” she said, brightening again. “That way if it’s a bad guy he won’t be able to do anything, and we can, you know, give him a good thumping!”

‘I don’t know why I’m surprised,’ he thought, falling back down into the couch. ‘What part of “Most Powerful Witch on the Planet” am I not understanding?’

She waved her hand and he saw the air ripple momentarily, and then return to normal like there was nothing there. ‘Damn, I do seem to surround myself with powerful women,’ he thought, feeling a mixed emotional cocktail of pride, happiness, love, and a fair amount of desire.

Xander frowned. ‘Where have I seen her ... it’s that witch!’ he thought with realization. “Sarah!” he nearly growled as he stood up and walked to join a now confused looking Willow at the door. “What the hell do you want?”

“Oh yeah,” Xander said disapprovingly. “This is the one Giles sent us to meet. To give her that amulet thingy?” he prompted his friend’s memory.

“You don’t seem very happy to see her,” Willow commented, a questioning look on her face.

“Entirely my fault, I fear,” Sarah interjected, sounding somewhat chagrined. “I actually came to apologize, if I may. Is Dawn here?”

“Yeah,” he answered Willow before turning back to Sarah. “Well, Dawn’s not here, but she should be back pretty soon. I guess you could come in and wait,” he said begrudgingly.

Both he and Willow stepped back from the door, but Sarah did not automatically follow. After a moment of awkward silence, the dark-haired witch gestured to the doorway. “Well, if you would?” she said questioningly toward Willow.

“Oh, right. Oops,” Willow answered embarrassedly before waving her hand and again causing a visible ripple in the air.

“Amazing!” Sarah sighed before stepping into the hotel suite. “You must certainly be either Willow or Tara,” she said to Willow with a tone of awe in her voice.

“How’d you know her name?” Xander asked suspiciously, still feeling a bit of enmity toward the woman who had so upset his lover.

“Ah, well,” she began with a slight blush coloring her features. “May I?” she asked, gesturing toward a chair in the living-room area.

Xander nodded and took a seat back on the couch, Willow dropping down beside him so that their bodies were in contact from knee to shoulder.

Sarah’s eyebrow rose as she took in the sight of Willow’s proximity to him, causing him further annoyance, but he refrained from comment beyond prompting, “You were saying?”

“Yes, well, after our last meeting I called Rupert to, ah ... well to chastise him for daring to send a sorceress into our midst,” she said with a look of shame on her face.

“Dawnie’s not a sorceress!” Willow immediately protested, noticeably stiffening against Xander.

“Indeed,” Sarah allowed, “a fact that Rupert communicated to me quite soundly.”

Xander put his arm around Willow and was gratified to feel her relax. “What’s the difference?” he asked, curious at the negativity apparently associated with sorcery.

“Sorcery is demonic magic,” Willow explained. “Dark, nasty stuff ... not something to be toyed with. And Dawn would never mess around with sorcery!” she threw as an angry aside toward Sarah.

“Again, I must apologize for my mistake, and I shall certainly offer my apologies to Dawn as soon as she returns,” Sara said, appearing sincere. “Among other things — and after taking me to task — Rupert mentioned the names of Dawn’s mentors. After seeing that rather impressive shield, I can only presume that you must be one of them,” she went on to address Xander’s original question.

“Well, yes, I’m Willow. Dawn is Tara’s and my apprentice,” Willow replied. “But why would you think that she was a sorceress in the first place? We’re witches, not sorceresses!” she went on, still sounding upset.

“Ah, well ... I don’t mean to sound rude ... again,” Sarah said hesitantly.

“The reason for my mistaken assumption with Dawn was the fact that the magic she demonstrated — while not sorcery, as I had immediately assumed — also was not witchcraft,” Sarah explained.

“If I may ask, what spell did you cast to create the shield across the doorway just now?” Sara asked in a deliberately polite voice.

“I just created a static charge to interlace the nitrogen molecules in the air so they’d repel anything larger than the diameter of an oxygen molecule,” Willow said in a tone of voice as though explaining the dynamics of making toast.

Where Xander smiled with both humor and pride at his friend’s abilities, Sarah looked almost frightened. “Goddess!” she gasped. “How ... ah, how exactly did you do that?” she inquired in whisper.

“But not witchcraft,” Sarah interjected. “There was no ritual, no spell, no calling on the elements, or on any goddess or spirit; nothing that could possibly be considered witchcraft.”

“Well, it’s not sorcery!” Willow protested, once more stiffening against Xander in apparent outrage.

“No, no it isn’t,” Sarah agreed. “And, had I taken the time to examine Dawn’s aura as I did yours, I would have realized that immediately.”

Willow’s body relaxed as her mood again shifted. “You can see auras?” she asked, sounding enthused. “That’s so cool! Tara can see auras too; I have to do the Ritual Conspicere before I can see them, and then it’s temporary,” she explained to Xander.

“The Ritual Conspicere ... so you do practice the craft as well?” Sara asked, looking surprised.

“Well, sure!” Willow answered. “We’re witches, after all. We just discovered some new ways to cast. I mean, okay, it’s kinda advanced, I suppose. I like to think of it as a combination of witchcraft and quantum mechanics.”

“Willow, I’m not sure ‘advanced’ is the right description for what it is that you do.” Sarah said softly. “I’ve been practicing witchcraft for seventy-three years, and I’ve never seen the like.”

‘Holy crap!’ Xander thought, his eyes widening as he took in the attractive young witch before him. ‘Well, I thought she was young ... Jeez, she could be my grandma! Or, my great grandma!’ he realized.

Sarah sat silently for several moments, apparently lost in thought. When she spoke, her voice was filled with fear and wonder, “To see a thing, to know it, to understand its most elemental form, and then affect it to your own end.”

“That’s not a bad description ... maybe a little overly poetic,” Willow mused aloud.

“I was quoting,” Sarah explained. “It’s from a translation of the writings of Qore Shorkaror.”

“Qore Shorkaror was the last known wizard on this plane of existence,” Sarah said seriously.

“That’s right, that’s where I’ve heard that name!” Willow exclaimed. “But, that means ... oh ... no, no, no I’m no wizard, I mean, I’ve been called a wiz before, but that was a wiz at, you know, like computers, or ... or research. Not a wiz at wizardry, I mean that’s a lost art, not been around for thousands of years. How could I be a wizard? I mean I’ve never even been to Hogwarts or anything — ’cause, of course, there is no Hogwarts, ’cause there’s no wizards to teach or students to learn, and hey! I don’t even have a wand! You can’t be a wizard without a wand, can you?”

“Willow!” Xander exclaimed, giving the babbling redhead a bit of a shake. “Relax ... breathe.”

“What’s wrong with being a wizard?” he asked, looking back and forth between Willow and Sarah. “They evil like sorcerers?”

“They could be either, just like anyone else ... but Shorkaror was definitely not of the good, from what I’ve read.” Willow added.

“It’s been said that Qore Shorkaror was the last wizard on this plane only because he took exception to the very existence of any others of his kind, systematically destroying each until only he remained,” Sarah added.

“Yes, and wizardry has been a lost art ever since,” Willow interjected. “And that’s why I couldn’t be a wizard, ’cause I’m not lost — and I didn’t find what was lost, I just made, like, a breakthrough in witchcraft — all new and shiny, not old and lost at all!”

“And yet, Shorkaror’s depiction of his own craft so well describes yours,” Sarah said, clearly disagreeing with Willow’s protestation.

He looked down to meet her gaze. ‘Only Willow could have all this power and be worried about what it’s called.’

He hugged her tightly, leaning down to rest his forehead against hers. “It’s just a word, Wil,” he said quietly. “It doesn’t change who you are.”

Just then there was a soft click, and the door opened. Xander turned his head just enough to see the door without losing contact with Willow.

“Okay, you two, I thought I said no fluking!” Dawn chastised in a mock-stern voice.

“There was no fluking, we were totally fluke-free!” Willow answered in a teasing voice.

Dawn laughed and continued her approach. She lifted up a pair of shopping bags, “Wait till you see what I — what the hell is *she* doing here?” her voice hardened when she noticed Sarah in the room.

The elder witch rose gracefully to her feet and turned to face Dawn directly. She bowed slightly and said, “Ms. Summers, I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was overly hasty in my conclusion regarding your magic. Please forgive me.”

“Yeah, I gathered that from the way she was yelling at me,” Dawn said with a slight glare shot towards the Coven Leader. “What I don’t get is why.”

“Sorcery is demon magic,” Willow again interjected. “And since most of the stuff I’ve been teaching you isn’t normal witchcraft — like what Tara’s been showing you — she assumed.”

“Again, I apologize for my mistake,” Sarah added. “As it wasn’t witchcraft you were using, I foolishly assumed it must be sorcery.”

Dawn again frowned, seeming lost in thought. She set her bags down at the far end of the couch and walked over to plop down on Xander’s lap, her legs laying across Willow’s lap, apparently unconcerned about the presence of a fourth person in the room.

Xander glanced toward Sarah to see her smiling broadly. ‘Huh, I thought she’d be uncomfortable with this,’ he thought in surprise.

“I should take my leave of you,” Sarah said with a note of teasing in her voice. “Before I go, I would like to invite the three of you to join my sisters and I for dinner this evening. We should discuss the amulet you brought us, as well as several other topics of concern.”

“Actually, I’m flying home this evening,” Willow said, sounding as though she regretted it ... slightly.

“We already have reservations at Prime,” Xander added only paying half-attention to the conversation. ‘You okay?’ he wondered, ducking his head slightly to seek his lover’s gaze.

“Buffy’s free to travel after today; we could come back next week ... or to England if you guys aren’t going to be here still.”

“I’m certain I could arrange to extend our stay another week,” Sarah said with a smile.

Willow flipped her hand toward the standing woman and a card flew across the room to stop, hovering in place before her.

“Call me this weekend and we’ll arrange things.” Willow said with a teeth-baring grin.

“I shall do that,” Sarah answered. She then turned and exited the room without another word.

As soon as the door closed behind the departing witch, Dawn asked, “So ... if what you’re teaching me isn’t witchcraft, and it isn’t sorcery ... what is it?”

Xander felt Willow’s shoulders shrug under his arm. “Well,” he started when there was no explanation forthcoming from his best friend. “Sarah said she thought it was ... uh ... wizardry.”

“Huh,” Dawn said, raising her eyebrows. “That mean I have to get a wand?”

Buffy bounced on her toes eagerly awaiting her turn to welcome Willow back home after her short trip to Las Vegas. By the time Tara had finished kissing the redhead, her eyes were glassy and her mouth open and panting.

‘Much as I’d like to head straight for the bedroom, I wanna know what happened even more,’ she thought as she felt curiosity weighing against desire. She took Willow’s hand and practically dragged her over to the couch and said, “Okay, so now tell us everything you couldn’t explain over the phone.”

Willow’s smile fell away and her expression crumpled into abject sorrow. She burst into tears and softly wailed, “Xander died!”

Buffy felt like she’d been kicked in the stomach. “Xander’s dead?” she whispered, stunned.

“Not any more,” Willow cried, visibly trying to reign herself in. “But he was.”

“Huh?” Buffy shuddered as a combination of relief and confusion swept through her.

“Maybe you should start from the beginning, sweetie,” Tara said gently, reaching out to put an arm around Willow at the same time Buffy took the redhead’s hands in her own.

Willow took a deep breath, and then another as she sniffled her tears back. Nodding her head, she said, “Right ... from the start. Okay ... I told you when I called about the whole ‘body on the floor, Xan and Dawn kissing while wrapped in green fire’ thing, right?”

“Well then ... you know, it won’t make much sense that way, so ... okay, I’ll just tell you what happened from the start — sort of — before I got there, even though I didn’t get the whole story until this morning, really,” Willow said, starting over.

‘Like I wasn’t confused enough already,’ Buffy thought, shaking her head slightly. “I’m still stuck on Xander died, but he got better?” she blurted out.

“Right, that’s where I’ll start,” Willow said, taking a couple of deep breaths and visibly gathering her resolve. “Dawnie and Xander were at the light show on Fremont street, when he noticed a SUV ... Oh, hey! We should have them try and find the SUV, it’s probably parked close, oh, but maybe not at the hotel, ’cause that’d be not smart for the hit man-guy ... but maybe it’ll get towed and then I can do a search online and find out who rented it, and,”

“Willow!” Tara interrupted as the redhead began to babble faster and faster.

“Why don’t you tell us what happened first, and then we can decide what we should do about it?” Tara suggested with a gentle smile.

“Yes. Xander saw it, and he said he got a bad feeling, and then he saw the window come down and he grabbed Dawn and turned them around so he was between the truck and Dawn ... and ... and,” Willow’s expression again crumpled into sorrow and she sobbed aloud, “He had a machine gun, and Xander ... he—”

‘Her hands are like ice,’ Buffy thought, surprised. She looked down and was even more surprised to see that tears were falling from her own face onto her lap.

“Dawn tried CPR, but it didn’t work ... she said there was so much blood, it was everywhere,” Willow cried.

“But ... but ... if CPR didn’t work?” Buffy whispered, her heart aching at the scene in her mind. ‘Oh my God! Xander died to save my sister!’ she realized with a tumultuous series of emotions pouring through her.

Willow pulled her hands from Buffy’s and wiped the tears from her cheeks. She sniffled loudly and then continued, “Police came, and then the coroner ... oh Goddess, poor Dawnie! She said she heard the sound of the zipper on the body bag in her head over and over. I can’t imagine ... if I had to watch that I think I’d have lost it.”

Buffy felt a cold shiver run down her spine at the fear and pain in Willow’s voice.

“They took her down to the police station and asked her a bunch of questions, and then one of the CSI ladies drove her back to the hotel, and went in with her to their room,” Willow went on. “When they got there, the bastard that shot Xander was there waiting.”

Buffy’s eyes widened at the uncharacteristic cursing. ‘Not that I don’t agree.’

“He was going to sh-shoot Dawn ... he’s so lucky she killed him!” Willow ended with a growl.

“Dawnie killed him?” Buffy asked, shocked despite the fact that Willow had implied as much during the phone call the previous day. “How?”

“You mentioned that he was burned?” Tara asked as though seeking verification.

“Right,” Willow affirmed. “She said she felt this overwhelming rage, not only that he’d shot Xander, but that he was so callous about it — though I suppose it’s not really that surprising. I mean, you would have to be pretty callous about that sort of thing if you were gonna do that for a living.”

“Oh, right,” Willow said sheepishly. “She somehow pushed that rage into the hit-man, turning it into magical fire that burned him up from the inside out. He looked fine except that his eyes and mouth were all burned out.”

“Wow,” Tara exclaimed. “I didn’t think she had developed quite that much power.”

“Well, she said it knocked her out. Obviously it wasn’t something she did intentionally; it was all emotion, not much focus,” Willow opined.

“God, poor Dawnie,” Buffy whispered, feeling her gut tighten up at the thought of killing a human being. “Still; *totally* self defense. She didn’t get into trouble, did she? I mean you said there was a cop lady right there when it happened, right?”

“Yep,” Willow confirmed. “She was totally freaked out though — I mean, big time wigged about the magic thing.”

“When did the other police-type people show up?” Tara asked. “You said there were three of them.”

“And you said Xander was there,” Buffy added. “How did he get not-dead?”

“Right, okay,” Willow said with a nod. “While all this was going on, Xander apparently woke up, stuck in a morgue drawer, but all better and not at all dead any more.”

“Okay, am I the only one who’s *huh* at this point?” Buffy asked, bewildered. “Was he dead or not?”

“Okay, I think I know the how, but I’ll get to that later,” Willow went on excitedly. “Anyway, he found his stuff, except his shirt — he took the coroner’s lab coat — and went out of the morgue and made his way back to the hotel.”

‘I can’t wait to hear the how!’ Buffy thought, shaking her head. ‘I hope she uses small words.’

“So, back to the hotel room. When Dawn woke up, there was dead-bastard, and freaked cop-lady. Dawn went into the bathroom, and cop-lady called two more crime scene police people to come. So, all three were there when Dawn came out of the bathroom, and of course wanting to know what happened. So, Dawn told them it was magic, and they didn’t believe her of course and they were arguing about it, and then Xander walked in.”

“I think, once she made sure he wasn’t a vampire, she was way too busy trying to suck his tonsils out to be shocked,” Willow said with a smile.

“And then there was fire?” Buffy asked, the memory of Willow’s phone call surfacing in her mind.

“Yep,” Willow affirmed. “So, then I called you guys, and then I put the police-types on the couch to keep them out of the way while I went over to Dawnie and Xander.”

“Who were on fire,” Buffy reiterated, having great difficulty understanding, let alone envisioning such a thing.

“Well, not *on* fire, but they were surrounded by green-flamey energy, It was so hot that when I reached through it to touch them — to, you know, snap ’em back to reality — I had to amp up my shield like way, way high! But it was weird; it was completely self-contained. Like if you held your hand by it, you wouldn’t feel any heat, but if you touched it, you would lose your hand.”

“I know,” Willow agreed with a wild arm gesture. “I was totally shocked, but then when I touched their minds, I saw that it wasn’t just Dawn that was making like the surface of the sun — or *a* sun, ’cause, you know, *the* sun not being green ... anyway — Xander was all with the green-flameyness too!”

“Wait, Xander does magic too?” Buffy blurted out. “What, am I the only one not riding the magic train all of a sudden? Is Mom casting spells now too?”

Tara’s laugh caused the slayer to blush. “Sorry, just ignore me,” she mumbled sheepishly. “I think my brain/mouth filter is broken or something.”

Tara pulled her into a consoling embrace even as she said, “Go on, sweetie, what happened next?”

Willow gave Buffy a quick smile before continuing, “Once I got them to stop making out, they were able to absorb the energy back into themselves. So, then we talked about how to handle the whole ‘dead-body, police-people’ situation.”

“And the cops didn’t do anything, like try to arrest someone?” Buffy asked wonderingly. ‘It must just be me,’ she sulked. ‘The Sunnydale Police wanted to arrest me for Kendra and I wasn’t even there when she died!’

‘She does have guilty face,’ Buffy thought, looking at Willow after Tara’s comment.

“I might have ... persuaded ... them to stay out of it,” Willow allowed sheepishly.

“Anyway, Xander came up with the idea of getting rid of the body, you know, so the police people would just go away?” Willow went on.

“But ... but,” Buffy sputtered. “Who does he think he is, Xander Corleone?”

Willow looked at her in silent surprise. Buffy turned to Tara and saw surprise on her face as well. “What? I saw ‘The Godfather,’” she said with a pout.

“Seriously though,” Buffy went on. “Isn’t getting rid of the body just going to make the police even more likely to come after them?”

“Not if we used magic, and did it right in front of them ... I mean, they saw me teleport, and the fire thing. Cat’s pretty much out of the bag already.”

“With no body, there wouldn’t be anything to investigate,” Tara said with realization. “There wouldn’t be any evidence, and no one would believe them if they told the truth.”

“Plus, it’s not like Dawn did anything wrong, I mean, I know — human being, not demon — but it was totally self defense!” Willow exclaimed.

“Like when I killed that Taraken back in high-school,” Buffy mused. “I didn’t really even feel bad about that.”

“Yeah, not at all like when you thought you’d killed Ted — I mean, before we found out he was a robot ... oh, and a serial killer,” Willow reflected.

“Oh yeah!” Buffy agreed whole-heartedly. “Majorly bummed-out Buffy time.”

“So you, what? Teleported the body?” Tara prompted while giving Buffy another reassuring squeeze.

“No!” Willow said excitedly. “After I found out about Xander coming back to life, I got an idea what must have happened, but I wanted to test it, so I asked Dawn to use the fire-energy thing to vaporize the ... uh, it.”

“She walked over to it and she couldn’t do it, she couldn’t call the energy,” Willow said with a look of exhilaration on her face.

“She wasn’t touching Xander anymore,” Willow said as though that explained everything.

“Dawn’s not the Key anymore,” Willow said almost bouncing with excitement. “Well, she is, kinda — but it’s not just her, it’s them together! It explains the power that they have and it explains how Xander’s not dead anymore!”

“Because the energy, the Key—” Tara audibly gulped before continuing in a soft, awe-filled voice. “The Key is eternal.”

“Yep. The next morning Dawnie told me she’d scratched him so hard that he bled, but there wasn’t even a mark on him just a minute later.”

“Hey,” Buffy interjected. “I believe there’s an unaddressed ‘huh?’ on the table here! Also, eww on the scratching thing — so didn’t need to know that.”

“Oh, sorry,” Willow apologized. “What I’m saying is that the energy that makes up the Key is now in both Xander and Dawn, and since the Key is eternal, it always returns to its natural state — or in this case it returns them to their natural state. I had Dawn make a little cut on her palm, and it did this little green glow and just closed right up, barely any blood!”

“But that never happened before,” Buffy protested. “I’ve seen Dawnie hurt before and she was never all super-heally!”

“I think it’s because it’s in both of them,” Willow opined. “It’s like, the energy seeks balance between them, so if one is hurt, it repairs them until they’re both the same again.”

“So if they both got hurt, they’d stay hurt?” Buffy asked, feeling very confused.

“I think they’d heal like normal, but we’d have to do some experiments to see, like would it have to be the exact same injury to each, or just in the same area, or what?” Willow went on.

‘Uh oh, Willow the science geek makes a return,’ Buffy thought. ‘I feel sorry for Xan and Dawn!’

“Actually, I think we figured that out too,” Willow answered. “Dawnie told me that when she and Xander first — uh....” She suddenly trailed off.

“First what?” Buffy asked. ‘What’s with the look?’ she wondered at the trepidation in Willow’s expression.

Buffy grimaced slightly at the mental image, but refrained from comment. ‘I did ask,’ she thought.

“Dawn said right before ... it ... she felt focused ... centered, like when we cast. Then she told me that she said that she wanted to share herself with Xander completely, everything she was, was his.”

‘It really is ... and I’ll never admit that out loud,’ Buffy thought with a tiny smirk.

“I think Dawn unwittingly cast a spell that made her literally share everything she was with him,” Willow added.

“Oh, and I met the leader of the Coven that Giles knows,” Willow changed the subject with a smile.

“I guess there was a misunderstanding when she asked Dawn to cast something, and Dawn did that flame thing and Sarah — that’s the witch’s name — freaked out and thought Dawnie was doing sorcery.”

“I know!” Willow agreed. “But she knows better now, ’cause Giles chewed her out when she called him to complain about it.”

“I take it sorcery equals badness?” Buffy asked, bewildered by the turn in the conversation.

“She was kinda formal, but it’s probably ’cause she’s older ... except she doesn’t look old at all — more like she’s in her late twenties or something,” Willow babbled. “But, she said she’d been casting for, like, over seventy years!”

“She must be very powerful,” Tara said softly. “My mama once told me that it was possible to develop such an intimate bond with the earth that you could stop, or even reverse the aging process; but she never managed it, and I’ve never met anyone else who could do it either ... I thought maybe it was just a myth.”

“Well, she is the head of an old and powerful coven, from what Giles was saying,” Willow stated. “If anyone could do it, it’s probably her.”

‘I know that look,’ Buffy thought as she observed her pet trailing off in thought. ‘I bet Willow figures out how to do the same thing.’

“Oh, you can,” Willow said, leaving off her contemplation. “I told her we’d come see her and the coven in Las Vegas next week. I mean, I figured with the watchers gone again, Faith should be able to handle patrols for a few days, right? We could all go!”

“I dunno, Las Vegas hasn’t been very nice to our family,” Buffy said hesitantly. “Bad things keep happening there.”

“Mmm, liking witchy hugs!” Buffy hummed with pleasure as she was quickly wrapped up in both her lover’s arms.

“I think we’d be just as safe there as we are here. Safer even,” Tara said after a moment’s contemplation. “Whoever is after Dawn doesn’t seem to be after us.”

“Plus, we can take precautions, like shielding and stuff,” Willow added. “No human — and not many demons — would have a chance at getting through before we could react. Oh, and we could go see some shows! With the amazing costumes, and the special effects, and—”

‘I ... I wouldn’t hate that,’ Buffy realized as she pictured it. “Okay, so we go visit the city of sin,” Buffy quickly stated before getting too lost in thoughts with which she wasn’t completely comfortable. “But, I want a swank hotel room ... I’m so not sleeping in a nineteen seventies pimp-pad.”

“We can still go see it,” Buffy allowed. “I just don’t want to stay there. I want room service, and lounging by the pool and a massage at the spa, and more room service....” She trailed off dreamily, liking the idea more and more as she thought about it.

“Well, Xan and Dawnie’s room at the Monte Carlo was really nice, maybe we could stay there?” Willow asked, dropping the pout.

“No, silly,” Willow said with a giggle. “Not the same room, just the same hotel.”

“You know, Faith might appreciate having a more challenging slaying environment for a week or two,” Willow said smoothly. “You know, work off some of that ‘evil watcher, lover’s betrayal’ drama?”

“Well ... I dunno,” Buffy pondered. “I wouldn’t want to be gone *too* long.”

“Don’t worry, Slayer,” Tara said. “I’m sure we can go out on a couple nights and find a few vamps for you to play with. You know, just so you don’t get out of practice.”

“Okay!” Buffy chirped happily. “I like vacations with my two witchy lovers.”

They all leaned back on the couch and enjoyed a comfortable silence — and some gentle petting — for a few minutes.

Buffy’s mind wandered back to the discussion of the changes in her sister and best friend. ‘I can’t believe Xander actually died ... and that he sacrificed himself for Dawnie like that. I’m gonna have to think of a way to thank him.’

She absently stroked Willow’s thigh even as she curled up a bit more tightly into Tara’s arms. ‘I don’t know why I’m surprised, though. That’s so totally like him. He puts all of us first before himself, especially Dawnie now. And, how weird is it that he came back from the dead like that ... that him and Dawn both have the Key-thingy in them now.’

“The Key is eternal,” she said aloud, repeating Tara’s earlier comment. Looking up at her mistress she added, “That’s like, forever; right?”

“So, I guess that makes Xan and Dawn immortals, right?” Buffy said jokingly.

When Willow and Tara didn’t laugh along, her smile fell. “That was supposed to be funny, guys.”

“Mmm,” Xander hummed in pleasure as he gently woke. ‘Comfy,’ he thought, feeling a pleasant lethargy, knowing he didn’t have any immediate need to get up from his pleasant surroundings.

“You are so damn beautiful,” he said, speaking the first thing to come to mind.

Dawn, who had apparently been observing him intently as she lay facing him, smiled in return.

“Whatcha thinking?” he asked after a moment of continued silence on her part.

“You never did tell me how your talk with Willow went,” she said softly. “I’m figuring it must have gone pretty good, since she wasn’t all mopey anymore when she left.”

“Well, I was gonna tell you all about it, but when I got back to the room I got attacked by this incredibly sexy brunette,” he answered, in no way sounding upset about the situation. “I didn’t have much opportunity to talk; she kept my mouth busy on ‘other things,’ if you know what I mean.”

‘How unsurprised am I that she knew that when I had no idea?’ Xander thought. Despite an initial inclination to avoid the topic, he just nodded. “Yeah, she told me.”

Dawn’s smile fell away and her face was serious as she asked, “Do you want her?”

“As much as you love me?” she asked, just a hint of insecurity in her voice.

He inhaled to answer no, and suddenly was struck by the question. ‘Do I?’ He considered the idea for a moment and finally answered, “Almost, but not exactly the same way.”

“She said she didn’t know how to be Willow without me in her life,” he answered, remembering their intense conversation. “At first I didn’t really get it, but then imagined life without Willow ... and I understood.” He reached out to cup her cheek softly as he continued, “I wouldn’t be who I am if it hadn’t been for Willow in my life ... I wouldn’t be the same person now if she got taken away from me. I’m not exactly sure how I’d change, but I know it wouldn’t be the same.”

“I do know this,” he added. “Without Willow in my life I’d be less than I am, but without you in my life, I’d be nothing.”

Dawn’s mouth formed a pout and her voice was rough with emotion as she agreed. “I know exactly what you mean.”

He smiled and tried to lighten the mood. “I can say from experience that the thought of dying is far less scary than the thought of living without you. I think that’s probably the best part of this shared-energy thing.”

“Knowing that if we go, it’s together?” Dawn said, getting his point exactly.

“Yep,” he agreed. “Now, for the sixty-four thousand dollar question ... do you want Willow?”

A look of trepidation crossed her face and she licked her lips before nodding her head ever so slightly.

He blinked his eyes for a moment as he processed the concept. ‘I’ll never get that image out of my head,’ he thought as the picture of his lover and his best friend locked in a passionate embrace filled his mind.

“God no!” he blurted out. “Are you mad that I....” He trailed off a moment later.

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Xander said, running his hand down his lover’s side. “She belongs to your sister.”

“Yeah, not to mention Tara,” Dawn said with a sigh. “And, I wouldn’t ever want to mess that up ... but....”

They lay together silently for a few moments while Xander let visions of Willow-Dawn snuggles dance through his head. Eventually a related question occurred to him. “Not that I mind ... but I thought you weren’t really into the whole girl-girl loving. When did that change?”

“Mmm, not sure,” Dawn said thoughtfully. “I don’t know that I really changed — I mean, I’m not sure I am into girls.”

“Except Willow, I mean,” Dawn clarified. “I dunno, there’s just something about her ... she’s so ... full of energy.”

“No ... well, kinda, but more like just ... life,” she said, sounding unsure of her words. “I don’t really know how to explain it ... I mean I haven’t really thought about it too much. She’s just so vivacious! It’s infectious. I feel more alive just being around her, and when I started to notice her noticing me, then I started to feel that way too. I don’t really feel anything for other women.”

“She’s beautiful, I notice that, but ... I dunno, she doesn’t really give me warm-drippy feelings like Willow,” she answered.

‘Great googly moogly!’ Xander thought, feeling himself become extremely aroused at her description. “Warm-drippy feelings?” he asked hoarsely.

“Haminaha,” Xander mumbled as her hand traced down his erection to cup his balls gently.

“When she gives me that hungry look, like she wants to lick me all over?” Dawn spoke seductively, softly rubbing his sack.

“I start to feel this warm and gooey feeling in my belly ... and pretty soon that feeling moves down and I start to get all wet and drippy in my panties. Mmm, I’m getting wet just thinking about it.”

“You wanna feel how wet I am, Xander?” she asked in a little-girl voice that was eerily reminiscent of Willow herself.

She let off playing with his balls and reached down between her legs. She closed her eyes and hummed with delight as she touched herself.

‘Holy freaking God!’ he thought, completely entranced by the open lust and pleasure on her face.

Her eyes opened and she smiled wickedly as she brought her hand up between their faces. “See?” she asked with false innocence.

He focused on her hand and groaned once again as he saw the glistening fingers, her juices dripping down onto her palm.

‘You go ahead, I’m goin’ to the source!’ he thought as a growl reverberated in his throat.

Immediately he rolled them over with him on top, eliciting a delighted squeal from his lover. He wasted no time moving down toward the foot of the bed and insinuating himself between her sleek thighs.

«God yes!» he heard in his mind and he knew without looking that she was sucking the wetness off her fingers even before he had arrived at his destination.

He laid his tongue wide and flat over the opening to her sex and slowly licked upward, loudly slurping up her honey.

He delved into her with his tongue for several minutes, causing her to twitch and jerk as he stroked inside of her. When he could hear her chanting his name both mentally and out loud, he replaced his tongue with two fingers and took her swollen clit into his mouth, sucking strongly.

She cried out wordlessly but his name was the only thing he heard on her mind as she shattered.

‘God, Dawn!’ he screeched mentally, feeling a pulse of energy run through his tongue, down his body and straight to his cock. As if his tongue was a conduit to her orgasm, he immediately came, spilling himself onto the bed sheets.

“Well, that’s never happened before!” he mumbled in shock, once he’d caught his breath.

He pushed himself up the bed and rolled onto his back beside her, laughing at the strangeness of the situation, and her subsequent comment.

“There’s always more where that came from,” he teased noticing her eyes moving down to his still-erect dick.

“Oh yeah!” he crooned happily as she began to lick him clean of his previous release. He relaxed back onto the bed as she languorously sucked him in and out of her mouth.

«I so love doing this to you!» Dawn sent into his mind with a happy emotional context.

“Gah! Won’t hear me complaining about it!” he gasped in response, eliciting a muffled giggle from his lover.

«Hmm, I just thought of a way to put that healing thing to good use,» she thought to him.

“Huh? What—” he started to ask, but was shocked silent as she suddenly forced her head down on him, taking him deep into her throat with a muffled cry.

“Dawn!” he shouted, at once horrified by the thought of hurting her, and then quickly ashamed as her constricting swallows caused him to cum powerfully.

‘I’m a bad, bad man,’ he lamented silently, feeling guilty and aroused and then even more guilty that he was aroused by her actions.

Dawn slowly slid him out of her mouth, sucking out every last drop as she moved. Releasing him with a loud slurp, she immediately chastised him, “Hey! I wanted to do that; I’ve been wanting to do that since our first time.”

“No, I hurt me,” she corrected. “I know you’d never do that to me in a million years ... plus, the healing thing worked and I felt fine like less than a second after I did it.” She crawled up next to him and lay up against his side, embracing him and snuggling her head against his neck. “Now I’ll be able to do it all the time, without any pain at all,” she added softly.

“You know, you don’t have to try and do anything wild or crazy ... I have never been anything less than completely satisfied with our love making. Hell, more like completely amazed!” he tried to gently reassure her.

“No, you haven’t,” she answered for him. “Any thought or desire I’ve had, you went right along with it. Just another one of the many, many things I love about you, Xander.” Her hand was warm on his chest, stroking him as she continued, “You need to realize that I want the exact same for you. I know you love being deep-throated ... Anya could never shut up about how it blew your mind.”

“God, Xan! Get a clue!” she growled, pushing up and straddling his pelvis and putting her hands on her hips in clear exasperation.

‘Jeez, she’s hot!’ he immediately thought, feeling his cock swell between them against her sex.

She smirked down at him and rubbed herself a bit against him. “Don’t you want to fulfill my every dream, my every sexual fantasy?”

“Of course!” he immediately responded without the slightest need for deliberation.

“Not just because you feel obligated, but because you really want to, right?” she pressed the subject even as she pressed her slick lips along his erection.

She stopped her movements and leaned toward him, bracing her hands against his chest. “Don’t you think I want to do the same thing for you?” she asked in an intent whisper.

“I-I never—” he stammered, feeling surprise even as he chided himself. ‘I should really know better.’

“You really should,” she agreed with his unspoken thought. “Xander, I want to be your everything ... to do everything you could ever dream of. From the sweetest, most romantic lovemaking right down to the filthiest, nastiest, kinkiest thing you’ve ever felt the urge to do but tried to deny that you could really want.”

“I ... wow!” he breathed. ‘No words,’ he thought, unable to find a way to adequately communicate the intense and overwhelming emotional response that surged through him.

She rose up and slid down with him inside of her. «I belong to you! I ... am ... yours!» she fed directly into his mind over and over as she rode him at a gallop. Their bodies slapping loudly together.

Finally, he snapped and flipped them over, growling, “Mine!” as he ferociously pounded himself into her.

It was unclear who came first but, whoever it was, set off the other and started a feedback loop, and they orgasmed for what felt like hours. At the end of it, he growled out loud, “You’re mine, Dawn! I own you!”

Collapsing against her, her gasped reply, “Damn right!” was the last thing he heard before fatigue overtook him and darkness fell.

“Hey, Grissom, you got a minute?” Sara’s voice caused Gil to look up from the journal that was lying open on his desk.

He blinked a couple of times before her question filtered in to his mind completely. “Sure,” he answered.

She frowned slightly as she sat in front of his desk. “What are you reading?” she asked, gesturing toward his desk.

He looked down at the printed pages once again before lifting his eyes to meet her gaze. “Actually, I have no idea,” he answered with a raised eyebrow.

“Can’t stop thinking about it, huh?” she asked knowingly. “Me neither.”

He shuddered slightly and shook his head before once again pushing his trepidation down under a mental weight of denial. “So, what have you got?”

Sara sighed. “Nothing surprising,” she said, tossing a folder onto his desk. “Blood-work came back. DNA on the bullets and blood in the morgue-tray is a positive match to the blood we collected at the scene and on Summers’ clothes, and on the lab coat he returned. AV says the video of Harris leaving the building matches the photos from the scene. They ran it through two different types of facial recognition software and both were a greater than ninty-nine point nine percent match.”

Despite expecting exactly that, Gil again felt a shudder crawl up his back. ‘It’s just not possible!’ his mind protested. Outwardly he kept up a façade of normality, smirking slightly as he said, “And that’s not surprising?”

He nodded slightly in response. ‘If these things are real, how come we’ve never encountered them before?’ he wondered to himself.

“It makes you wonder how many times we’ve run into magic before without knowing it,” Sara mused aloud.

Gil jerked slightly at the similitude of her thinking. Fortunately she didn’t seem to notice.

“Now I’m wondering if every unsolved case I’ve ever had is because I didn’t take into account the possibility of ... you know....”

“Even worse, I wonder if we’ve helped convict innocent people because we—”

“We go where the evidence takes us, Sara, nothing more,” he quickly interjected.

“Except we now know that the evidence can be completely wrong,” she argued. “All the evidence tells us that Alexander Harris was shot and killed on Freemont Street two nights ago. Except he’s not, not anymore!”

‘Oh dear, she’s clearly feeling the effects of this just as much as I am,’ he thought sadly, unable to come up with any answer to give her.

The long silence was interrupted by a knock on his door. He looked up and saw Greg Saunders — lab tech and wannabe CSI — waving a folder at him with an excited look on his face. With a resigned sigh, he waved him in.

“Hey, Sara,” the spiky-haired man said as an aside upon entering. “Gris, I found a match to one of the DNA samples from the other night.”

“What’ve you got, Greg?” Grissom interrupted before a full-blown argument could rise.

“Well, with all the fuss over the ‘night of the living dead,’” he began, causing Sara to roll her eyes while Grissom frowned at the younger man. “I didn’t get around to running the routine sample we took from the girl, Dawn Summers.”

“No, but she was a match to an unsolved from earlier this year,” Greg explained.

“Really? Which case?” Grissom asked, suddenly very interested at the reason for the younger man’s smile.

“The ones with the funky tattoos on their foreheads?” Sara remembered with a frown.

“Yep, sunburst tattoos with bullet holes right through the middle of them,” Greg agreed. “You might remember that someone tossed their cookies right next to one of them.”

“Fourteen alleles in common,” Greg answered. “It was either her or her clone.”

Greg’s next comment was interrupted by the ringing of Grissom’s office phone.

“Yes?” he answered the call. ‘Eckley, wonderful,’ he thought with a frown as his supervisor’s voice jarred him out of his previous train of thought.

“I want you and Sitle in my office immediately,” Conrad Eckley’s nasal tone was laden with disapproval as he issued his order.

“I don’t care, stop whatever you were doing and bring yourself and Sara to my office. Now.” The phone clicked and then the dial tone sounded.

“Great, what did he want?” she asked in a tone that reflected his own emotional state.

“What do you want me to do with this?” Greg interjected, his eyebrows raised as he looked back and forth between his co-workers.

Grissom sighed slightly as he rose from his chair. “Hopefully, we can discuss that in a few minutes.”

“Could you please explain to me what the hell this is supposed to be?” The words spilled forth from Eckley’s mouth the moment Sara and Grissom entered his office.

‘Well that’s definitely not good,’ Sara thought, noticing that the small veins on Eckley’s temples were prominent and throbbing.

Grissom seemed nonplussed, peering over his supervisor’s desk and examining the document being referenced. “It appears to be my report on the Harris case, though I can’t be certain with it shaking like that.”

‘Uh oh,’ Sara thought. ‘Blood pressure that high can’t be good,’ she noted to herself upon seeing Eckley’s entire head suffuse with blood.

“I will not have you turn this department into a laughingstock,” Eckley ground out between clenched teeth. “This — this—” he sputtered, shaking the document in his hand as he appeared to search for the right words.

“There’s nothing in that document except for a factual statement of my observations,” Grissom maintained a calm demeanor as he interjected his comment.

‘Oops!’ she thought as Eckley’s attention snapped from him to her. ‘So much for keeping my head down and my mouth shut.’

She thought he might have a stroke right there, but he managed to visibly calm himself. “I am not accepting this,” he said with a hint of his usual sneer. Then he crushed it into a wad of paper and threw it into the trash.

“I’m putting you both on mandatory thirty-day medical leave,” Eckley went on.

“I’m also formally noting in both your files my recommendation that you seek counseling related to the possibility of stress-induced psychosis.”

“That’s ridiculous!” she protested, again violating her own strategy of silence. “We have cases we’re working—”

“I’m reassigning all open cases to someone who isn’t irrational,” Eckley again overrode the protest. “Now get out, both of you, and don’t come back until you can at least act like you’re sane.”

“Alexander Camarin, do you agree, of your own free will, to be bound to my will; to speak only the truth, without prevarication, deception, or distortion, until I release you from this bond?” Willow’s voice sounded no different than usual, but a sense of power nevertheless filled the air, pulsing with each syllable she uttered.

‘He’s braver than I am,’ Faith thought, grudgingly, to herself. ‘Course, he never held a knife to her throat and threatened to kill her either,’ she added in her mind as she glanced over to Willow.

The cobalt blue glow of Willow’s eyes sent a shiver of fear down Faith’s spine. Despite the relatively large size of the mansion’s living room, she found herself wishing she could put more space between herself and the witch.

‘Down girl,’ she tried to reassure herself. ‘She said she forgave you already; and besides, if she wanted to hurt you, she could probably do it all the fricken way across town.’

“Elizabeth Camarin, do you agree, of your own free will, to be bound to my will; to speak only the truth, without prevarication, deception, or distortion, until I release you from this bond?” the redheaded witch posed her challenge to Faith’s other lover.

‘Bethy’s not as tough as Alex,’ Faith noticed as her girlfriend shot her a nervous glance and licked her lips before answering.

Willow smiled, sending yet another thrill of fear through Faith. “So mote it be!” the redhead intoned, clapping her hands once. The sound was like low sonic boom, causing everything in the room to rattle slightly.

“Showoff,” Tara’s low comment, and Willow’s answering giggle did nothing to calm Faith’s nerves.

“So, Alex,” Faith said with a suddenly wicked smile despite her remaining nervousness. “The other night when Beth was joking that I should give you a go with the strap-on, and you were all, ‘I don’t think so,’ is that how you really felt?”

“Actually I got really turned on by the—” he was cut off by Beth’s hand on his mouth.

“I’d say it worked,” Buffy’s voice matched the look of disturbed incredulity on her face.

“Yes, well....” Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps you could start by telling us how and why you’ve insinuated yourself into Faith’s life.”

Alex gave his wife a slight smirk before turning serious once again. He took a deep breath and began speaking, “In the late nineteen sixties, Beth and I were stationed in a military hospital in the city of Hue, just south of the demilitarized zone between North and South Vietnam. We were both Army psychologists, working with soldiers that were suffering from Combat Stress Reactions.”

“Today, it would have been called Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder,” Beth added.

“Hold on, wait, that was like, over thirty years ago!” Buffy interjected. “Are you saying you two are like, in your sixties or something?”

‘Crap! I’m screwing people old enough to be my grandparents?’ Faith was struck by the thought. ‘I thought Red said they were human.’

“Let them finish explaining themselves, Buffy,” Giles admonished gently. “Then we can ask any questions we might have.”

“As I was saying,” Alex continued. “We were in Hue for almost two years when January thirtieth, nineteen sixty-eight came upon us.”

“That’s right,” Alex said, nodding toward the watcher. “The Tet Offensive: a coordinated assault by the Viet Cong on about a dozen different targets in South Vietnam, including Hue.”

“We spent that day listening to reports from the places they hit, but we were assured that Hue was safe.” Beth snorted. “They hit us early the next morning. They killed all of the soldiers at the hospital, even those who were already wounded,” Beth continued the story. “Alex and I, along with the medical doctors and nurses, were marched out into the jungle ... they accused us of crimes against the people of Vietnam and, one by one, held ‘trials’ on us. After the ‘trials,’ the executions began....”

‘Damn, that had to suck, big time!’ Faith thought, feeling a pang as Beth trailed off with a visible gulp.

“Night fell. We were sure that the coming sunrise was to be our last,” Alex went on. “Then ... man, I thought I was hallucinating—”

“This little guy in a bowler hat and a plaid jacket comes walking though the jungle like it’s the middle of Times Square,” Alex continued, shaking his head. “He said he had a proposition for us.”

‘Damn, B, talk about a small freakin’ world,’ Faith thought. ‘Gonna have to ask ’bout that some time.’

“Okay,” Alex gave Buffy a confused look for a moment before continuing. “Obviously, at that point we were pretty open to any proposition that included us getting the hell out of that place.”

‘No doubt!’ Faith thought, seeing everyone else in the room nodding in agreement.

“Next thing we knew, we were in this ... place. White everywhere, but not like a room or anything, just ... white.” Beth continued the story. “It was like a dream, except both of us were there, along with Whistler.”

“He said he represented the Powers That Be,” Alex explained. “Then went on to explain what that meant, and then he told us a little bit about the slayer, and the things that go bump in the night.”

“The craziest thing was that we didn’t think he was crazy,” Beth interjected. “I guess being pulled out of the jungle into this ... whiteness ... kinda burned out any skepticism we would have had.”

“It sounds as though you were taken into a dream-state,” Giles spoke up. “Such a state of consciousness — well, unconsciousness really — exists apart from the rational mind and as such we tend to accept at face value anything seen or heard in such a state. It is only once awakened that we question the experience.”

“In any case,” Alex went on. “He said that there was a slayer that needed our help, and asked if we were willing to take on this task on behalf of the Powers which he represented.”

“I think that we’d have said yes in any case,” Beth interjected. “But, given the alternative....”

“Wait! I don’t get it,” Faith interjected. “They told you in sixty-eight that I needed your help?” She turned to Giles and almost pleaded with him, “How the hell did they know that? I mean, I wasn’t even ... hell, my mom was like, barely a kid!”

“I ... I have no idea,” Giles sputtered. “While certainly there is such a thing as destiny, I’ve never believed that fate held such tight sway as that over our lives.”

“Right,” Beth agreed quickly. “See, when we came out of that whiteness, it wasn’t nineteen sixty-eight any more. It was February first, two thousand.”

“We were in our house ... Whistler told us that the Powers had arranged our ID’s and employment — on retainer for the Watchers’ Council as combat-trauma psychologists — and said we had three weeks to ‘get caught up,’” Alex added.

“We didn’t know what he meant,” Beth said exasperatedly. “He didn’t say anything about us missing over thirty years.”

“Yeah, he has a thing about leaving out the fine-print,” Buffy muttered darkly.

“Three weeks,” Faith whispered harshly. “I woke up from my coma February twenty-second.” She glanced over at Buffy only to see the blonde drop her eyes and avoid her gaze.

“Somehow he must not have known about that little present the mayor left for you,” Beth said softly, drawing Faith’s attention with a voice filled with empathy.

“He showed up the same day you turned yourself in to the police in LA,” Alex went on, his voice too reflecting empathy. “Told us we’d have a little more time to get caught up on recent history, and that he’d be back to let us know when it was time.”

“Yes,” Alex agreed with her. “Travers called us with our ‘assignment’ about two seconds after Whistler gave us the news.”

“Yes, and what exactly was your assignment?” Giles asked with a pointed glance.

Alex sighed resignedly, causing butterflies to start flying around in Faith’s stomach. ‘Here it comes,’ she thought, clutching her hands in her lap to keep them from shaking.

“Travers gave us a file on Faith, and told us that we were to find a way to help, ‘keep her on the side of angels,’ is how he put it,” Alex explained.

“His only real stipulation was that we keep him updated regularly,” Beth added. “Which we translated to mean monthly reports on her progress — using only general descriptions: improving, opening up, making progress, etc., not personal details,” she said in an aside directly to Faith.

“It quickly became apparent that his idea of updates was more along the lines of specific and intimate reports of every aspect of our interactions with Faith, and her interactions with the so called Scooby Gang,” Alex admitted.

“Aww, Faithy,” Beth said, shaking her head sadly. “We’d didn’t think it would be right to share that kind of information with someone not directly involved in the treatment, even if they were technically the ones paying for it. Not to mention how we quickly came to care about you on a personal level.”

“Faithy?” Buffy asked with a grin, causing Faith to blush profusely, followed by her flipping-off the blonde slayer.

“Whistler told us we needed to try and keep the watchers from taking any action. He encouraged us to comply with their requests as much as possible,” Alex added. “But, we were able to push Travers off, at least for a while, by telling him we were still establishing baseline information. Basically we tried to keep him out of the loop as much as possible while still following the letter of our instructions.”

“And what exactly were the instructions regarding Faith that this Whistler-person gave you?” Giles pressed.

“Whistler’s a demon — a balance demon,” Buffy clarified. “At least, according to Angel.”

“He just said that we were supposed to help Faith find herself, keep from falling back into the dark place she’d gone before,” Alex answered.

“So did one of them tell you guys to seduce her, or did you come up with that on your own?” Buffy asked pointedly.

‘Easy, B,’ Faith thought, taken aback. “Since when do you care who I screw?” she rebuked her sister slayer.

“During the time you were in prison,” Beth interjected, clearly trying to prevent an argument. “We had a lot of time to read what the watchers had on slayers: reports and diaries from their watchers, as well as council documents on slayers in general.”

“It didn’t take much to read between the lines and figure out that slayers tend to be motivated by primal instincts,” Alex continued. “The urge to hunt, usually followed by a marked desire for both food and sex.”

“Ain’t it funny how slaying makes you hungry and horny,” Faith said proudly, and pointedly toward her sister slayer.

It was Buffy’s turn to blush, even as her lovers smirked at her, Faith noted merrily.

“Without going into any of Faith’s personal details,” Beth began, again looking toward Faith with a hopeful set to her gaze. “Alex and I discussed the possibility of formulating a relationship, and we both thought it could be a good idea.”

“Is that how you normally conducted treatment with your patients?” Giles asked, sternly, but not unkindly.

‘Weird, he don’t sound pissed that Jeeves asked,’ Faith thought with surprise.

“In the army, we were doing the equivalent of mental health triage: trying to identify what a soldier might be suffering from and how and where they might best be helped,” Beth explained. “We didn’t have long term contact with any of them.”

“Also,” Alex interjected. “While the watchers might have seen this as a temporary assignment, we definitely got the impression from Whistler that we were being asked to make a long term commitment here.”

“Plus, once we got to know Faith, we both decided that a long term commitment was exactly what we wanted,” Beth said softly, looking at Faith with longing in her gaze.

‘Damn, I want you,’ was Faith’s knee-jerk response. ‘God, I hope I didn’t say that out loud,’ she immediately thought, chagrinned, and trying to surreptitiously check for any reaction from the others.

“How could we know Faith and not fall for her?” Alex added, his look matching Beth’s.

‘Not gonna cry ... not gonna fricken cry!’ Faith thought as she, with difficulty, swallowed past the lump in her throat.

Beth softly answered Giles question, but made her response directly to Faith, “Hopefully rebuild our trust and our relationship with you.”

Alex nodded in agreement. “You’re a huge part of our life, Faith. I’d like to think we’ve become an important part of your life too. We don’t want to lose that.”

Faith gaped, unsure of how to respond. ‘Jeez I hope this ain’t some kinda dream,’ ran through her head.

Hopeful looks on her lovers’ faces and Giles question, “You won’t what?” made her realize, ‘Oh, guess I did say it out loud that time.’

“Did you mean it?” Faith asked softly, ignoring Giles question. “When you told Travers you loved me?”

“If he told you that, it’s probably the only truth he uttered,” Alex added, looking similarly surprised. “But, to answer your question, yes. Yes, we meant it; yes, we love you.”

“I love you, Faith ... I didn’t imagine that this would be how I first told you that,” Beth said with a smile, gesturing to the rest of the Scoobies present. “But I’m glad I got to tell you while under this spell, because I don’t want you to ever doubt me when I say it. I love you!”

“Once upon a time, I wouldn’t have believed it was possible to truly be in love with two people at the same time,” Alex continued in a soft, but intense voice. “Now I can’t imagine not being in love with both of you. I don’t want to imagine not having you in my life, Faith. If polygamy were legal I’d get down on one knee and propose to you right here and now.”

‘Is this love?’ Shocked though she was, it was a feeling of intense heat running through her body that nearly overwhelmed her. ‘Christ, I ain’t never felt anything like this before!’

“Faithy, are you okay?” Beth asked after a moment, making the dark-haired slayer realize that she was crying.

“I’ve never been in love before,” Faith said, almost sobbing. “But this is gotta be how it feels.”

Suddenly she found herself enveloped in the arms of her lovers, experiencing a feeling of safety and belonging like nothing she’d ever had in her life before.

‘Huh, they all took off,’ she noted sometime later when she decided to bid the Scoobies goodbye.

Pulling away from Beth and Alex just enough to look them both in the face at the same time she uttered words she’d never before believed she would say, “Let’s go home.”

The twelve women of the Devon Coven, joined by the Sunnydale Coven — all three members of it — were ensconced in a lushly appointed private dining room in the convention area of the Bellagio hotel and casino. Tara was at the end of the table opposite Sarah with Dawn on her left and Willow on her right.

‘Well, this wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it’d be,’ Dawn mused as she looked around the room, taking in the renaissance art and old world architectural features. ‘They certainly went all out ... I wonder if it’s just that they feel guilty about yelling at me — which they totally should! Or, if it’s something else.’

‘Mmm, one more bite,’ she decided as she looked back down to the remains of the chocolate soufflé that had capped off a five course meal. ‘I’m definitely going to have to try and work this off tonight ... I hope Xander has plenty of energy!’ The image brought a smile to her face.

“It is quite rich, isn’t it?” the young witch sitting next to her opined as Dawn dropped her spoon with a slight groan.

“I shall have to extend my morning calisthenics for a month just to make up for it,” the witch — who had earlier introduced herself as Melinda Sharpely — commiserated.

Dawn blushed slightly as Melinda nodded with understanding. “Ah yes, your young man ... certainly a more enjoyable exercise regimen than I have planned,” she said with a playful pout.

‘The only work-out plan I’ll ever need,’ Dawn thought smugly, despite the bit of embarrassment she felt.

Willow asked Melinda a question about her training with the Coven, and Dawn tuned them out, returning to her musing. ‘Giles mentioned something about them looking for allies ... like maybe there’s some new big bad out there. I thought we only had one major apocalypse per year ... I just hope Glory was the big one, and this one can be just a little one.’

A clink of knife against glass drew Dawn’s attention to the head of the table.

“Sisters, if I may have your attention,” Sarah, head of the Devon Coven, stood up to address the group. “I would like to take this opportunity to formally thank our guests — Tara Maclay, Willow Rosenberg, and Dawn Summers — for consenting to meet with us. And to you, Dawn, I would like to personally apologize for your ill-treatment at our first meeting.”

Dawn nodded her head and gave a small smile in response. ‘No hard feelings, mostly,’ she thought.

“Other than taking pleasure in meeting other practitioners of our craft, we are meeting tonight for two reasons. First, we have the puzzle presented to us by our old friend, Rupert Giles, in the form of an amulet.”

‘Oh, they must have figured it out!’ Dawn thought excitedly. ‘I wonder what it is ... I wonder how they did it when Willow and Tara couldn’t.’

“After examining the amulet, we were able to ascertain that it is indeed a genuine amulet of Libitina,” Sarah went on. “However, such artifacts were never created to be magical in nature — the Libitinarii being a cult dedicated to the care and interment of the physical remains of the dead, rather than anything to do with the mystical. They also had absolutely nothing to do with the undead in any form.”

“Whoever gave that amulet to your would-be vampire-king was clearly setting them up to fail,” she concluded.

“Oh yes,” Sarah nodded in agreement. “Fiendishly clever and entirely frustrating, was that enchantment.”

“Frustrating is right!” Willow’s quiet grumble brought a grin to Dawn’s face.

“Even our most delicate probing eventually broke the enchantment,” she went on to explain.

“Only then was the source of the spell made apparent,” Sarah said with a dramatic pause. “Inanna’s lark.”

Dawn frowned as the seeming non sequitur. She looked to see an equally confused look on Willow’s face, but Tara nodded in recognition.

“It’s supposed to be something the goddess Inanna used to chastise practitioners that bothered her with constant requests,” Tara explained. “A spell to make something seem to be more than it was; something that would drive the recipient nuts trying to figure out how it worked.”

“From your explanation of the subsequent events, I can only imagine that the amulet was the delivery method for the curse on your sister, the slayer,” Sarah opined. “To what end, we can only speculate, though it would seem evident that one purpose was to debilitate her, at least for a time.”

“Meaning somebody’s going to try something and doesn’t want the slayer in the way,” Willow said with a grimace. “Sounds like a normal Tuesday on the Hellmouth.”

“Which brings us to our second reason for this evening’s meeting,” Sarah stated. “Of late, there have been signs and portents of a re-emergence of a very old and powerful evil. Something so dangerous that we have actively been searching for allies; something our coven hasn’t done ... hasn’t had to do ... in nearly two centuries.”

‘Only Willow could ask such a question in that perky a voice,’ Dawn thought with a smile.

Sarah’s voice was rather the opposite of Willow’s as she answered, “If only it were a demon. No, this is much, much worse; a hellgod has returned to our world.”

“I can’t believe I’m letting you take me to a strip club,” Buffy muttered as they got out of Xander’s rental car.

‘I really can’t believe Tara and Willow thought this was a good idea!’ she thought, still astonished. ‘I would never in a million years have expected Mistress to tell me to go with my sister’s boyfriend to watch other women get naked.’

“You could have gone to dinner with them,” Xander continued to remind her. “You at least were invited,” he added in a grumbling aside.

“Come on, Xan,” Buffy said, taking his elbow in her arm. “Neither of us really wanted to be the only non-witch at the Wicca jamboree.”

Walking through the front doors of the ‘Wild Pony Pleasure Palace,’ Buffy’s sensitive nose immediately crinkled in disgust. ‘It smells like cigarettes, body odor, and desperation in here,’ she thought, less than pleased. A glance at her ‘date’ for the evening left her surprised to see her feelings reflected. “Is it supposed to be like this?” she stood up on her toes to ask him.

“I have no idea; I’ve never been to one of these places before,” Xander admitted.

“I just mean, I thought....” Buffy stammered. ‘I thought all guys....’ Even her thoughts trailed off as she realized she was assuming.

“Ah, that,” he said, raising his finger as if he was going to correct her. “First, that was the exact opposite of this; audience of women watching naked men.”

“And second, no power on this earth, remember?” he finished with a tight smile.

“With Anya, I wasn’t allowed to — not that there was any need for it with her,” he ended with a mutter and a chagrinned smile.

“Never really thought about it, I guess,” he said thoughtfully. “Obviously, Dawn doesn’t have a problem with it ... but look at those girls,” he said, gesturing toward the writhing dancers. “Not one of them is half as hot as Dawn ... even dressed, let alone naked.”

Trying not to cringe at the mental image of her sister in the buff, Buffy took a moment to watch the clearly surgically enhanced figures as they rubbed themselves against the brass poles. ‘They’re sexy ... but I can’t imagine one of them having the kind of passion or heat that Willow or Tara have when we play.’

“I wouldn’t mind seeing Willow up on that stage, though,” she muttered softly.

Buffy blushed at the realization that she’d said it aloud. “You’re right ... I mean not the ‘naked Dawn’ part, but the part where I’m not really into this,” she quickly explained.

“Maybe some café or something, away from the casinos and stuff?” Buffy asked.

“Food, quiet, hanging with the Buffster,” Xander said with a wide smile. “How could I say no?”

“Another one?” Willow’s question was equal parts annoyance and resignation.

“Isn’t there a rule against the same apocalypse twice in a row?” Dawn asked with a smirk despite the suddenly unsettled feeling in her stomach.

“I hope this one doesn’t have all those scabby minions. That was just ... ugh!” Willow said with a shudder.

Dawn chuckled at Willow’s comment and then looked back toward the other women at the table.

To a woman, each member of the Devon Coven was staring slack-jawed at the three Sunnydalers. Finally Sarah seemed to find her voice, “I assure you this is a very serious situation, ladies. Not something to be taken lightly.”

“Yes, well ...” Sarah trailed off, visibly flustered. “Late last year we began to hear whispers of movement among an old and secret order — spread around the globe for centuries — now converging in significant numbers for the first time to our knowledge. Then, earlier this year, a small monastery in the Carpathian Mountains was slaughtered to the last man.”

Dawn frowned. ‘This sounds too familiar,’ she thought. Glancing to her mentors, she saw similar looks on their faces.

“At first we didn’t understand the connection,” Sarah went on oblivious to their consternation. “The monastery had long been rumored to have, hidden away, an ancient source of mystical energy, but few put any real stock in those stories. It was only when we discovered this hellgod had destroyed them searching for something called the Key—”

“The Knights of Byzantium,” Dawn added flatly, feeling a cold shiver run through her at the mention of the Key.

“Glorificus?” Willow asked incredulously. “That’s the big bad you guys are worried about?”

‘Oh boy, this is going to be fun,’ Dawn thought. ‘Now I’m glad Xander *isn’t* here!’

“Know her?” Willow asked with a grin. “We already kicked her skanky butt!”

Dawn looked from Willow to the head of the table to see the elder witch’s response. She had to choke back a laugh at the stunned disbelief on Sarah’s face as she collapsed back into her chair.

“Would you describe that as ‘aghast,’ or more like ‘flabbergasted’?” Willow asked sotto-voice.

‘She sounds like she wants to be hopeful, but she’s too scared to believe,’ Dawn thought, feeling a pang of empathy. ‘They must have really been scared about Glory.’

Suddenly all of the British witches began clamoring at once, the gist of each one’s query being ‘how?’

“Enough!” Sarah’s voice rose over the din. “Willow, I think we all would be grateful if you would explain your statement in greater detail.”

‘She’s figuring out what she’s going to say,’ Dawn thought as Willow suddenly frowned. ‘More like what she isn’t going to say.’

“Well, basically we found out Glory was in Sunnydale when Buffy found her torturing one of those monks you mentioned,” Willow began. “She tried to fight her, but it didn’t go to well and she ended up having to run away. After that, we found some of Glory’s scabby little minions spying on us, and that’s how we found out she was there looking for the Key.”

‘Relax, Summers,’ Dawn thought as she forced herself not to react, not to look around the room. ‘Nobody’s looking at you. No one’s looking at anyone but Willow right now.’

“Then she ran into one of those knights and that’s how we got the four-one-one on what Glory was,” she paused and grinned before continuing. “Well, that and from the watchers when they came out to ‘test’ her and stuff.”

Dawn casually looked around now that the subject had moved beyond the Key. ‘Well, now I have a good example of what “rapt attention” looks like.’

“So, anyway, we’d used this enjoining spell once on this demon/human/robot Frankenstein thing that the military built, so we decided to use it again on Glory,” Willow continued in her explanation. “So Tara and I and Faith — she’s the other slayer — did the spell to enjoin with Buffy while Xander and some friends of ours from LA took out the minion types. Then we — Xander called us Super-Buffy — beat up Glory, and then fried her with some serious lightning magic.”

There were several moments of silence before Sarah offered a response. “From what I understand, such would likely cause Glorificus to retreat into the human form in which she dwells ... was your attack sufficient to destroy the mortal form, or did you then have to kill the host?”

Dawn surreptitiously glanced toward Willow and Tara to see them looking at each other with a frown.

“I’m not sure,” Willow allowed. “We pretty much knocked ourselves out with that final spell.”

“It must have been enough,” Tara softly stated and Dawn could see a bit of guilt in her eyes.

“Yeah, Glory’s former minions tried to start serving Buffy instead, so it must have been enough to, you know, get rid of her for good,” Willow’s exuberance had dimmed a bit.

“I beg your pardon,” Sarah sounded a bit overwhelmed. “Did you say the minions of the Beast now serve the slayer?”

“Oh, no,” Willow began to explain, her mood brightening again. “Buffy couldn’t put up with them so I sent them back to their own dimension.”

“You sent....” Sarah trailed off, once again seeming dumbfounded. “Dare I even ask how you managed to do that?”

“Well, even though they’d been in this dimension a while, they still had a ... a resonance, I guess you’d call it,” Willow explained. “I tuned into the dimension that matched that resonance and I opened a one-way portal, then I just shoved them through it.”

“One way portal? I’ve never heard of such a thing,” someone else at the table protested.

“Yes, where did you find such a spell?” Melinda asked, awe and wonder in her voice.

“One at a time, sisters. Let’s show a bit of decorum, shall we?” Sarah interjected before more of the coven could spout off.

“Okay, well....” Willow trailed of with a thoughtful look. “Well, as for the portal, I guess it was more of a vortex, really — I mean, it didn’t look like a vortex, but I designed it so it would pull from this dimension and push to the other, so that nothing could come back through from the other side — after all, that would have kinda defeated the purpose in the first place; you know?”

Dawn had to stifle a giggle at the looks of incredulousness on everyone’s faces.

“As to the spell, I couldn’t remember seeing anything like that in any of my research, so I just, you know, put it together in my head and did it. I imagined a sort of funnel shaped rift in the interdimensional void between our worlds and then I opened up the big hole on our side and started pushing energy through into the little hole in the other — that way the flow was one directional, and with the other side being just a little like pin-hole, nothing could even fit from the other side — even if it could go, like, upstream.”

‘She doesn’t look well,’ Dawn thought as Sarah’s face began to fade to an ashen white.

Willow didn’t seem to notice as she continued on blithely. “So then Buffy already had all the minions together in a group, and when I opened up this side, I froze them in place and sort of dragged the opening over them — like a butterfly net, to mix the metaphors. I collapsed the big hole behind them and squeezed it down until they squirted out the other side, except I made sure they came out whole and not, you know, all mushed up.” She cocked her head slightly and paused a moment before adding, “It’s really hard to accurately describe it with words ... and you’d have to have a really good grasp of quantum mechanics and M-theory to really get the formulas.”

‘Tara looks like she wants to jump her right here,’ Dawn thought with a glance toward her mentor. ‘She’s just so darn cute ... and so powerful at the same time. I think I kinda feel the same way as Tara.’

“That much energy....” Sarah’s voice was a hoarse whisper. “Where ... how?”

“It was pretty draining, I have to say,” Willow admitted. “I think I slept for, what, twelve hours?” she added with a questioning glance toward Tara.

“More like fourteen,” Tara answered, still staring lustfully at the redhead.

Dawn surveyed the silent witches of the Devon Coven, all of them reflecting their leader’s look of dread.

“Well, I must say it is certainly a relief to know that the threat of the Beast has been dealt with,” Sarah began.

‘She’s trying to sound normal, but it isn’t working,’ Dawn thought. ‘She’s major wigged ... they all are.’

“I believe we shall be able to return to England on the morrow after all, and as such — with an early flight and all — we would be well advised to retire for the evening.”

Almost as one, the twelve British witches rose to their feet. “Tara, Willow, Dawn,” Sarah began formally. “Thank you again for meeting with us, and even more so for the service you have done the world by eliminating the threat of a true hellgod on our plane of existence. Blessed be.”

The other eleven all echoed Sarah, “Blessed be,” and then they filed out of the room as though choreographed.

Only Melinda broke ranks by leaning toward Dawn and adding, “It was very nice to meet you. Perhaps we’ll speak again?” she asked with a questioning glance.

“Uh, sure,” Dawn said softly, surprised by the offer. “I’ll email you?”

“Wonderful,” Melinda whispered, and then quickly walked to take her place at the tail of the line of retreating Wiccans.

“Okay, was that a little abrupt, or was it just me?” Willow asked once they’d left.

“It was definitely you,” Dawn answered. “I think you scared the crap out of them.”

“I don’t know, that one on Sarah’s left looked kinda turned on,” Tara said with a smirk.

“You mean like you?” Dawn teased. She then blushed when Tara raised an eyebrow and silently responded with a knowing look. ‘Busted!’

“Mmm, this is much better than any stinky strip club,” Buffy said as she took a bite of her jumbo-deluxe burger.

“Yeah,” Xander agreed. “Though I was kinda looking forward to watching you get a lap dance,” he added with a smirk.

“Xander!” Buffy protested as well as she could with a big mouth full of food. Then she blushed as she pictured it. ‘Wouldn’t *hate* that,’ she allowed to herself hesitantly. ‘I am so gay ... when did that happen? Do I even like boys at all anymore?’

She took a moment to ponder that while she let her eyes roam some of the men in her field of view. Eventually her attention came back to dining companion.

‘I really enjoy hanging out with Xander. It’s just so ... easy. Comfortable. I can see what Dawn sees in him: muscles, and cuteness ... not to mention what I remember from the towel incident,’ she thought with a smirk. ‘I just don’t feel lusty feelings. He’s like a brother? No, not a brother ... something else. Something better?’

She watched her Xander-shaped friend surreptitiously for a while as her mind wandered aimlessly. ‘I must have always been gay,’ the thought suddenly stuck her. ‘How else can I explain not falling in love with him?’

Xander’s expression turned dubious. “To quote, well, you ... that’s not nothing-face, that’s definitely something-face.”

Even as she smiled on the inside, Buffy put on a pout. “Hey, no fair using my own words against me!”

“You were picturing that lap-dance, weren’t you?” Xander asked, looking smug.

‘That’s a better topic than the other,’ she thought despite feeling her face grow warm yet again. “I think I’d prefer one of my own girls to do something like that,” she said in a low voice.

“Willow giving Buffy a lap dance ... yeah,” Xander said with a dreamy look on his face.

“Hey, come on,” he protested. “You can’t seriously expect me *not* to think that’d be hot! I mean, would you rather I was all, ‘Yuck! Who’d want to see that?’”

“Well, no....” She trailed off, pouting once again. ‘I should be flattered, sorta ... but it’s Xander!’

“Hey, speaking of Willow being a hottie,” she quickly riposted, only half in jest. “What’s up with you making time with my girl while she was here?”

“Uh-uh,” he shook his head and wagged his finger at her as if correcting her. “There was no time of any sort being made. We were one hundred percent time-free!”

Buffy took another bite and chewed it slowly. ‘Should I drop it? I want to know, but I don’t want to know,’ she admitted to herself.

Xander set down his burger and gave her a serious look. “Talk to me, Buff. What is it?”

He just stared at her for several moments, seeming to consider the question. Finally, he quietly answered, “Do you really want to have this conversation?”

“Be sure, Buff,” he said with a gulp of his own. “This is seriously dangerous territory we’re thinking about heading into, you know?”

“Oh boy, do I ever know,” she said, dropping her eyes to her lap as she summoned her courage. “Fighting monsters doesn’t scare me, but this does.”

She took a deep breath and released it before adding, “But, I need to deal with this or I don’t think I’ll be able to deal with it ... that didn’t really make sense, did it?” she looked back up at him with a wry smile.

It was his turn to take a deep breath and sigh loudly. “Buffy, I’m in love with your sister. Deep, scary-type love. I don’t know if there’s such a thing as soulmates or whatever, but I do know that she’s my other half.”

“Yeah,” he smiled widely in return. “Still, I look back at when we were in school, and I kick myself for blowing my chance with Willow ... it’s like one of my biggest regrets. I was so fixated on you, when you clearly had no interest, and I missed out on something that probably would have been great. Amazing, even.”

“Knowing what I know now, I still wouldn’t change it though,” he went on. “Not when it would mean no Dawn in my life.”

“So, yeah, I wanted to ... and she wanted to, but neither of us would, you know?” he explained. “I wouldn’t do that to you or Tara, let alone Dawnie, and she wouldn’t do that to Dawn, or you, or Tara.”

“But ... lately, I get the feeling that Willow wouldn’t mind my sister joining in — which is just wrong on *so* many levels,” Buffy griped half-heartedly.

“And lately it seems like Ms. ‘Hetero All The Way’ girl is putting eyes on my Willow too!” she protested even louder.

“Buffy, you *own* Willow, like, literally,” he answered with a laugh. “You can’t seriously believe that she’d ever betray you, no matter how much she might fantasize about being the filling in a Dawn-Xander sandwich.”

“Ugh!” she wrinkled her nose. “Please! I so do not need mental images of my sister with my lover!”

“Don’t worry, Buff,” Xander said in a teasing voice. “I’ll keep all those images to myself.” He leaned back in his seat with an exaggerated “Mmm!”

‘Xander died!’ Willow’s words suddenly ran through Buffy’s thoughts. ‘We’re sitting here like nothing happened, but a couple days ago Xander was dead.’

Sobering, Buffy’s eyes began to tear up a bit at the idea. “You know I love you, Xander — you do know that, right?” she asked with deep intensity.

“Um, we’re not on the same topic still, are we?” he asked appearing bewildered.

“I’m serious ... I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that, and I....” She trailed off, choked up and feeling her eyes well over.

His face immediately radiated concern. He grabbed a napkin out of the dispenser and her eyes slipped shut at the feel of him gently wiping the tears from her cheek. ‘If this was Tara or Willow doing this, I’d so want to kiss them,’ she thought. I don’t want that at all with him, yet I’m completely comfortable with him touching me like this ... what the hell does that mean?’

“Buffy, where is this coming from?” his soft voice managed convey both compassion and confusion so intently that she nearly laughed.

“You never said it in so many words before Buff,” his voice had dropped to a whisper. “But, yeah. I knew ... I know.”

She blinked her eyes open and smiled widely at him. ‘Maybe it doesn’t matter if I can explain it, or define it or whatever,’ she thought, feeling warmth and an intimate caring that had nothing to do with physical desire. ‘I love him. He’s my Xander.’

“I think I’ve known that ever since you brought me back to life,” she answered in wonder. ‘Wow, I really have known since then, haven’t I? I just never really thought about it before.’

She took his hand in both of hers and gave it a squeeze. “I was so overwhelmed when Willow told me what happened,” she began softly. “That you shielded my sister with your own body like that ... I’m still not sure if I was more proud of you for it or sick to my stomach at the thought of losing you ... you died to save her life! That’s just ... wow!”

Seemingly embarrassed, Xander looked down at the table as he responded. “I’d do that for you too, you know. Or Willow, or Tara ... or even your mom or Giles. You guys are my family. I’d be willing to die to save any of you.”

She gulped past the lump in her throat. ‘He’s so sincere, and I know exactly how he feels,’ she thought with both sadness and pride.

“Don’t get me wrong,” he added with a grin. “Dying sucks, and I’d really rather not do it again, but I would if it was necessary.”

She answered his grin with her own. “I know exactly what you mean,” she reiterated her thoughts aloud to him.

He laughed. “We are probably among the few who can speak of the subject in the past tense,” he said.

The tension broken, they each picked up what was left of their burgers and resumed eating.

After a moment, Buffy threw out, “Oh well, at least now you never need to worry about it again.”

“You know,” Buffy answered. “What with you and Dawn and the whole Keyness that is you?”

Now Buffy frowned. “You know ... what Willow said. About you and Dawn being immortal now?” she reminded him.

Buffy walked into her hotel room with a smile on her face. ‘I can’t get that picture out of my head,’ she thought, restraining herself from breaking into giggles once again. ‘Xander was so shocked! I almost thought he was gonna freeze with that look on his face!’

“Buffy’s back!” Willow’s voice brought the slayer back to the here and now.

She glanced over to see the redhead set her laptop aside and then bounce up off the couch, skipping across the room to leap into Buffy’s arms.

By the time they ended their kiss, Tara was there with her arms wrapped around both of them. ‘I so love my new super-slayer strength,’ Buffy thought as she effortlessly held Willow up with one arm and wrapped her other around Tara — all while deeply kissing the blonde witch.

“Didja have fun?” Willow asked excitedly. “Were the strippers hot? Didja get a lap dance?”

“They serve cheeseburgers at the stripclub?” Tara said, wrinkling her nose in apparent distaste.

“Or, is that strip-club slang for some kind of special sexy dance?” Willow asked with a wide grin.

“Eww, no!” Buffy answered Tara’s question. Then after a slight shudder added, “At least I hope not!” Then she turned to Willow and said, “Not a dance that I know of — we just didn’t stay at the club for more than a couple seconds before we decided to go get food instead.”

“How come?” Willow again prompted with a frown. “What could be icky about sexy, naked girls? Were they not sexy?”

“Oh, they were ... okay, I guess. There was a lot of, um ... surgical enhancement, if you know what I mean.”

“Oh yeah!” Buffy agreed emphatically. “Plus, none of them were nearly as hot as you two!”

“Aw, that’s sweet,” Willow gushed, reaching out to stroke Buffy’s cheek.

“Oh, well ... it kinda stunk — too much cigarette smoke, and too many sweaty, horny men,” Buffy further explained.

“Xan was cool with bailing?” Willow asked as she turned and lead the way over to the couch.

“Totally,” Buffy answered. “He said he’d never been to one of those places anyway ... plus he said the strippers weren’t as hot as Dawn,” she finished in a mumble.

She glanced over at her other witchy lover to see her rolling her eyes with apparent tolerant exasperation.

“So, what did you guys do — besides eat, I mean.” Tara asked, sitting next to Willow and snuggling up to her side.

Buffy dropped down on Willow’s other side as she answered. “Actually, we just talked — about all kinds of stuff.” She smiled as she remembered some of the conversation. “It was nice, mostly.”

“Well, we talked about you,” Buffy started, gulping past a sudden knot of nervousness in her throat.

Buffy turned so that she was sitting sideways on the couch, facing her two lovers. “Well, actually, we talked about you and Xan and Dawn,” Buffy answered quietly.

“Buf— Mistress, nothing happened! Please believe me, I would never—” Willow immediately began to protest.

“I know, Pet,” Buffy interjected. “I know.” She took a deep breath and held it for a moment before exhaling sharply. “But ... you wanted to — you wanted something to happen, didn’t you?”

“I mean, yes, I’m very attracted to them and, yes, I have feelings for them,” Willow started to explain.

‘Again, say hello to the pain,’ Buffy thought. ‘Tara doesn’t look as sad as I would think...,’ she wondered as her eyes darted to her blond lover.

“And, yes, the idea of making love to Xander and Dawn gives me warm, happy thoughts,” Willow went on quickly. “But — it doesn’t mean that I’ve somehow stopped loving you and Tara — you’re still the two most important people in my life and you always will be. Mistress, I belong to you — I would never betray you, please believe me.”

‘Okay, now I feel guilty — even though she just admitted that she wants to be with them,’ Buffy thought, her feelings confused.

Turning to look at her other lover, Willow continued, “Please, Lady Tara, please say you believe me.”

“I believe you, Pet ... it’s just, I’m...,” she trailed off. ‘I don’t know what I am,’ she realized.

‘God, is that it?’ Buffy wondered to herself. “Do you love them?” she asked, avoiding the jealousy question for the moment.

“I’ve always loved Xander,” Willow answered. “I don’t think I ever really stopped. I’m not exactly sure when I started loving Dawn as more than your little sister — it kinda snuck up on me.”

Tara laughed melodiously. “I guess I’ve just had longer to get used to the fact that Willow loves more people than just me.”

“Oh,” Buffy huffed, deflated somewhat. ‘She knew Willow loved me way before the three of us were “the three of us” — when it was still the two of them and I was with Riley.’

“Wait a minute,” Buffy said with a sudden frown. “You’re not thinking of inviting the two of them—”

Buffy gave Willow a nudge and a, “Hey!” to Willow when she noticed the glazed eyes and dopy smile.

“You were having sexy thoughts about the five of us!” Buffy complained with a pout.

“However,” Tara loudly interrupted before Buffy could protest. “I’m not really interested in sleeping with her. And, as much as I like Xander, I have absolutely no interest in sex with any man, ever.”

“Since when?” Willow queried with a frown, even as Tara raised her brows in disbelief.

Buffy looked down sheepishly. “Xander was teasing me about how he wanted to see me get a lap dance ... and I thought, ‘I wouldn’t hate that.’”

“I kinda told myself that I wasn’t interested in other girls — just you two, ’cause you were special — which you totally are — but I realized that I think other girls are nice to look at too.”

Willow smiled even more broadly, while Tara donned an arch look, but couldn’t entirely hide her grin.

Buffy could feel her face grow slightly warm as she continued, “And then, a little later when we were talking about how he felt about you, Wil, he said something about how he had been so into me back in high school and I thought, ‘I must have always been gay, how else can I explain not falling in love with him?’”

Buffy again glanced up to see wonder on Willow’s face, and a serene sort of understanding on Tara’s.

“He really is a great guy, I mean, for a guy and all,” Tara said, finishing off with a tiny smirk.

“I know,” Buffy concurred. “He died for Dawn — how many guys would die for their girlfriend? I don’t think men get much better than that.”

“I’m so glad we don’t have to worry about him dying anymore,” Willow said with a sniffle. “I don’t think I could handle it if he hadn’t come back. It would have been almost like losing one of you two.”

“I’m glad he came back, too,” Tara added quietly. “He and Giles are pretty much the only two decent men I know.”

“Hey,” Buffy interjected — shaking off the sadness of the thought of dead Xander. “How come you didn’t tell me you didn’t tell him they’re immortal?”

“I almost broke him when I mentioned it,” Buffy explained with a reminiscent grin. “He just froze — staring into space — for like five minutes. He even had food in his hand and still just sat there ... staring.”

“He should be happy!” Willow protested, still laughing. “Oh, and plus — now we’ll have company!”

Buffy frowned as Willow’s comment sank into her mind. “Whaddya mean, Wil?”

Willow answered in an offhand voice, as though it was unimportant, “Oh, well I made us immortal too.”

His musings were cut off even before the door finished closing behind him when Dawn leapt into his arms, her legs around his waist and her tongue in his mouth.

“Didja have fun?” she asked after kissing him senseless. “Did they get you all hot and bothered?”

“Duh, the strippers?” Dawn teased. “Either they were so hot they melted your brain, or so lame you forgot them already.”

“Oh, right, naked girls,” Xander replied with a headshake. “We didn’t go to the strip club. Well, we went, but we didn’t stay,” he explained.

Dawn loosened her grip around his waist and dropped back down to the floor. “How come?” she queried as she took his hand and pulled him over to the couch.

He couldn’t help but smile as she pushed him down on the couch and immediately straddled his lap, laying her body up against his and snuggling her head into the crook of his neck. ‘God, I love this girl!’ the thought popped into his head.

«That’s good, ’cause she loves you too!» her warm reply filled his mind. «Now make with the details.»

“Well, we went in, and it was all smoky and, well ... it stank. Like B.O., if you know what I mean,” he began. “Plus, the girls were all, um ... augmented ... and we both thought that none of them were nearly as hot as our own girls, so....”

“Though, Buffy did say she wouldn’t mind seeing Willow up on one of the poles,” he added with a teasing grin. “I told her I wouldn’t mind seeing Wil giving the Buffster a lap-dance.”

“I’ve already imagined her giving you a lap dance, at least to start with,” he replied suggestively.

‘Nice mental image!’ he thought as such a scene once again ran though his imagination.

«God, Xander!» her lust-filled thoughts pounded into his brain. “Like I wasn’t already soaking my panties!” she added aloud as she jerked away from him and undid her pants.

“So hot!” he breathed out, mesmerized by her as she quickly toed off her shoes and dropped her pants and panties to the floor. Before he could react, she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants, roughly pulling out his erection and climbing onto him.

“Damn right!” he agreed vehemently. ‘Warm, wet, perfect!’ he thought, his head falling back on the couch.

“Lay back and enjoy, sugar-bear,” she instructed him. “Let your kitten do all the work.”

“Mmph,” he whined, his whole body tingling as she rapidly bounced up and down on his cock. “Shirt ... off?” he half-instructed, half-begged.

“Oh, you wanna see my boobies bouncing up and down while I ride your big, fat dick?” she taunted him with her little-girl voice.

His cock throbbed, growing impossibly harder at her dirty-talk. “Please?” he begged, reduced to a monosyllabic whimper.

‘So beautiful, so sexy!’ he thought as she pulled her shirt up over her head and tossed it aside. His eyes roamed her body from the point of their joining, up her taut, sexy belly, stopping for a moment to ogle her bouncing chest before continuing up to see the sultry smirk on her pouty lips.

“Like what you see?” she teased, running her hands up her body and into her hair as she arched her back, making her breasts even more prominent.

“Yes! Love everything I see,” he grunted out. “Love you, Dawn!” Unable to remain passive, he grabbed her hips and began to slam his pelvis upward to meet her downward strokes, nearly doubling their tempo.

“Yes!” Dawn screamed. “God, yes! Just like that! Just like that, don’t stop!”

Through slitted eyes, Xander saw the now-familiar green flame appear as though bursting forth from Dawn’s flesh, rapidly moving to cover both their bodies.

“Dawn!” he shouted suddenly. Usually he could control his orgasm but the feeling of the flames running across his skin caused him to explode inside her.

He was about to apologize for his premature release when he saw her eyes roll back and her body start to shudder. ‘This time she got caught in mine,’ he thought happily.

“Hmm, this is bad how?” Dawn hummed lazily as she snuggled against his chest.

“Oh, not bad I guess,” he allowed, enjoying the skin-on-skin contact with his lover. “Just, you know, they were there when we started....”

“That’s true,” Dawn agreed, pushing herself upright, while keeping him inside of her. “Wow, it’s like they burned right off of you,” she said as she reached down and slid her hand between the couch and his butt. “But the couch is fine ... weird.”

“Gah!” Xander shouted in surprise as she took the opportunity to give him a pinch on the ass. “Evil woman,” he complained with absolutely no rancor.

He couldn’t keep the smile off of her face. “I can’t argue with that. I love everything about you.”

She snuggled back down against him and said, “So, if you guys didn’t check out the silicone sexpots, what did you do?”

Before he could answer, she immediately interjected, “Wait; don’t tell me — you guys hit the buffet, right?”

“Close,” he agreed with a chuckle. “We found an off-strip café where they didn’t even have a single slot machine. We had a nice quiet dinner and actually talked.”

“Well, among other things, she asked me about you and me and Willow,” he answered.

“Really?” she asked, sounding genuinely surprised. “The queen of denial actually broached a sensitive, emotional subject without her normal rage-response?”

«Nah, not really,» she thought back to him. Aloud she added, “Mostly annoyed by her issues.”

“I think she was a little worried about Willow having feelings for us, and vice versa,” Xander explained. “Especially now that — as she put it — Ms. ‘Hetero all the way’ is putting eyes on her Willow.”

“I guess I can kinda understand that,” Dawn said after a moment’s pause. “But, on the other hand, that’s really pretty dumb. She owns Willow. She can’t really believe that Willow would betray her, even if she thought we would do that to her — which we wouldn’t.”

“That’s pretty much what I told her,” he agreed. Mulling it over for several moments, he then added, “I think ... maybe she just wanted to hear me say it, you know? So it was out in the open?”

“Which, the ‘you liking Willow’ part, or the ‘you wouldn’t try and take her away, even if you could’ part?” she asked.

“Both,” he immediately replied. “The ‘*we* want Willow,’ and the ‘*we* wouldn’t steal her even if *we* could.’”

“We want Willow,” Dawn echoed with a giggle. “Very alliterative; we should have shirts made up ... maybe a website.”

“Yeah, I’m sure your sister would find that very reassuring,” Xander chuckled.

“Plus, Tara would probably turn us into toads,” Dawn added, giggling even harder.

“Immortal toads,” he said with a frown of disgust. “Talk about cruel and unusual punishment.”

“Ah, yes,” Xander said trepidatiously, his feelings of turmoil returning from when he’d initially walked into the room. “Buffy dropped that little bombshell on me after we finished talking about Willow.”

Dawn pushed away to look him in the eye. “What bombshell?” she demanded. “What are you talking about?”

“Willow didn’t read us the fine print,” he answered. “Apparently; along with the ‘healing’ thing we have now, there’s a whole ‘never gonna die’ thing too.”

“Apparently,” he sighed. ‘Still not sure how I feel about that,’ he thought. “How do you feel about that?”

“Are you kidding?” Dawn asked as a joyous smile grew on her face. “No growing old, no breaking down, and keeping this body forever?” she said, gesturing at her naked form. “What’s not to love?”

“I dunno,” Xander said hesitantly. “Don’t you worry that it’s gonna be a little lonely, maybe? Seeing everyone we love grow old and die?”

“I could see that sucking if it was just one of us — but we’ll have each other,” she corrected him. “Plus, you know Willow is going to figure out that thing Sarah did — what with the being all ‘in tune with the earth so that she stops aging’ thing; and once she does, she’ll totally fix it for Tara and Buffy so they stop aging too.”

She leaned in and softly kissed him for several moments. «We’re going to have a great life, Xan,» she thought to him as she kissed him. «We’re going to have tons of amazing sex, and we’re going to have awesome friends that will be with us forever!»

“Immortal?” Buffy’s question sounded slightly strained even to her own ears.

‘Immortal?’ Buffy’s mind spun at the idea. “But, slayers die young, they don’t live forever,” she sputtered.

“Well, technically ... you did die young,” Willow reminded her in a gentle voice.

“I’d still like an explanation of the how and when, please,” Tara said, still sounding shocked.

“Oh, well, I was thinking about Sarah, and how she looked so young when we know she’s over seventy,” Willow started.

“’Cause of her earth connection thingy, right?” Buffy interjected as the memory of that conversation arose.

“Right,” Willow acknowledged. “So, during dinner tonight, I started looking at the magic that she has surrounding her and I saw this web of energy — or, more like a net, really ... anyway, it was kinda woven throughout her aura and down through the floor into the earth.”

“Wait, I thought you had to do some ritual thingy before you could see that aura stuff,” Buffy interrupted, her mind jumping onto seemingly random details as she tried to pay attention to her lover’s explanation. “Or, did I remember that wrong?”

Willow excitedly cut her off, “Oh, I forgot to tell you, I was experimenting with the ritual before I did that truth spell the other day, and I was paying attention to my own magic energy as I did the ritual and I could see the way it changed my vision, and afterward I was able to replicate the effect, without the ritual, and now I can do it whenever I want!”

“So, anyway,” Willow went on, bouncing with excitement, “I saw that energy net that was connecting Sarah to Gaia, and I could see the earth energy flowing and mixing with her energy before flowing back down into the ground. It’s like she and the earth have a symbiotic relationship. I’m not sure how she did it, but once I saw it I knew I could replicate it.”

“But ... me?” Buffy shook her head in confusion. “I don’t have any magic energy, do I?”

“Well, the slayerness in you is a kind of magic energy, but that isn’t why this works,” Willow began to explain. “When I was figuring out how to replicate the effect on me, I noticed that there was already a similar net of energy woven into my aura — but instead of being tethered to the earth—”

Buffy looked up at the blonde witch and noticed that her eyes had gone solid blue.

“I do!” Tara responded, her voice full of wonderment. “Our energy is flowing between the three of us.”

“I think that’s why we’ve been feeling the love and joy so much,” Willow continued. “Our feelings are echoed back and forth between us and getting magnified in the process.”

“It would explain our increased energy, and Buffy’s increased slayer-skills too,” Tara agreed, excitement beginning to radiate in her voice as well.

“And now, since I tethered myself to the earth, Gaia’s energy is flowing between us too!” Willow concluded.

‘Oh, God!’ Buffy thought as her body began to virtually hum. “I am so horny right now!” she unintentionally grunted out.

Willow snapped her fingers and Buffy found herself lying naked on the floor, her face between Tara’s legs. ‘Not complaining!’ she thought, taking her first taste even as she felt Willow’s tongue against her own slick lips. She briefly had the impression that they formed a triangle on the floor, with Tara servicing Willow as Willow serviced her, but her focus was rapidly drawn to the dripping vulva before her.

‘God I love you so much!’ she thought as she ran her tongue along her lover’s lips, up to the nub at the tip, which she teased with light little licks for a moment before starting at the bottom again.

‘Oh Willow!’ she crooned in her mind minutes later as the redhead’s tongue began to lave her in concert with her own actions. ‘Weird, but oh so good!’ she thought as her pet’s movements became exactly identical to Buffy’s own. ‘Almost like I’m licking myself....’

Any discomfort that thought might have brought was quickly overwhelmed when Buffy’s body began buzzing with constrained energy.

‘What is this?’ she wondered as the sensation continued to build until it was nearly overwhelming.

Suddenly, the sensation disappeared, as though the energy had been sucked out of her body. ‘Uh oh, not good!’ she just had time to realize what was happening before everything went white.

“So, you want to go out and do something tonight?” Xander asked as he finished his steak.

“Sure. What’cha thinking?” Dawn responded before taking another bite of her linguini in brown butter sauce.

Xander licked his lips as he watched his girlfriend slowly slurp up the last couple inches of noodle into her mouth.

‘You ordered that just to watch me squirm, didn’t you?’ he thought, shaking his head slightly.

Smiling ruefully back, he addressed her spoken question. “I dunno, I thought we could go out and do something for a few hours before we take another shot at breaking that bed,” he said, timing it just as she was taking a drink.

“Of course, you’ll have to pay,” Xander groused. “Since I seem to have ‘misplaced’ my wallet.”

“Sorry, Xan,” Dawn said with a pout. “You’d think it would have survived — like the couch did.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” she said, sending him a mental image of herself, naked and kneeling before him in supplication.

He stifled a groan at the thought. ‘God, I love this thought-sharing thing,’ he communicated ardently. ‘I love you!’

Her mock pout quickly vanished to be replaced by a loving smile. They shared a warm, comfortable silence for a few moments before Dawn returned to the initial subject.

“Why don’t we go see that new show at the MGM Grand — we saw the ad yesterday, remember?” Dawn said with a gleam in her eye.

‘Uh oh,’ Xander thought. “Ah, which one was that?’ he asked despite thinking that he already knew the answer.

“Oh, um ... okay?” Xander stuttered, flashing back to the animated billboard they’d seen yesterday.

“You know, the one with the girls that looked ‘so much hotter’ than the ones at the Pleasure Palace?” Dawn continued, smiling even wider. “I seem to remember you thinking that if the dancers had looked like that, you’d have convinced Buffy to stay at the strip club, instead of getting something to eat.”

‘Evil girl!’ he thought, blushing even though he could sense that she was just teasing him.

“Okay, so, obviously I wouldn’t mind going there, but do you really want to?” he asked.

“I’m sure I’ll enjoy myself,” she answered with a devilish look. “Even if it’s just watching you get worked up,” she concluded with a laugh.

As Xander considered his answer, a sudden wave of warmth flowed through him. Dawn’s loud gasp drew his attention and before his eyes she visibly flushed.

“Dammit, Buffy!” he growled as he too flushed with orgasmic pleasure while around him the restaurant was filled with gasps, cries and screams.

“Mmm, that was so good!” Willow’s croon woke Buffy out of her blissful stupor.

“Oh yeah,” she breathed out, arching her back and stretching. She blinked her eyes open to find herself lying on her side, her head pillowed on Tara’s thigh. “Oh no!” she cried as the sight of her two lovers angled in a triangular daisy-chain instantly reminded her of what had just happened.

“Tara!” Buffy called urgently, shaking the blonde’s leg. “Tara, wake up!”

“Mmm,” Tara hummed in obvious pleasure as she too blinked her eyes open. “Buffy ... Willow ... love you two so much!” she sighed.

A throbbing warmth flowed through Buffy’s body, but she ignored it sufficiently to convey her concern. “Did you put up the shielding thingy?” she demanded in a harsh whisper.

“Oh no!” Willow wailed, blushing bright red as she obviously realized the repercussions of their tryst.

Deciding that they didn’t want to leave the room and see the aftermath of their indiscretion, the triad went to the bedroom and repeated the performance — this time taking the appropriate precautions — and they were now languishing in the afterglow.

“Yeah, Wil?” Buffy looked across Tara’s chest toward her redheaded lover, who was curled up on the other side of their blonde lover.

“I was thinking about what you said earlier, about always being gay?” Willow started.

Buffy sighed heavily. “I dunno,” she answered softly. “I haven’t really wanted to think about it I guess....”

She rolled onto her back and stared at the ceiling as her mind churned through memories of events and feelings past and present.

“Maybe I was just in denial, I mean, Angel’s the kind of guy a girl is supposed to fall for, right?” she let her thoughts take verbal form without trying to censor them. “Before I knew he was a vampire, anyway ... but even when I found out I just tried even harder.” She shook her head at her younger self’s stupidity.

Without words, Willow moved over Tara and Buffy both to take up residence along Buffy’s right side even as Tara rolled over to cuddle up to her left, eking out a smile from the slayer despite her turmoil.

“The harder it got to make it work, the harder I tried ... It’s almost like I was punishing myself for being with him by making myself be with him ... God, how stupid that sounds.” She let out a rueful laugh as she went on, “Xander would say the things I was thinking in the back of my mind, but instead of listening to him, or myself, I just worked that much harder ... kissing him was like kissing a fish!”

“I think about it now and I don’t know how I managed to not throw-up every time!” Buffy lamented in disgust. “Cold, clammy ... and his tongue—” she shuddered at the memory.

“I still can’t eat raw oysters anymore,” Buffy groused, her mouth quirking into a grin at the self-deprecating humor.

“Blech!” Willow complained. “Now I won’t be able to either — it was bad enough that they weren’t kosher!”

“Honestly, I don’t know what I was thinking,” Buffy said more seriously after a moment. “Looking back, it’s so obvious what a huge mistake the whole Angel thing was.”

“Actually, it does kind of explain things,” Tara interjected with a thoughtful tone.

“Well, subconsciously, you picked men that you couldn’t really be happy with,” she started.

“Oh,” Willow piped up. “So, subconsciously you must have been able to tell that Parker was a dog.”

“Definitely not one of my finer moments,” Buffy groused. ‘And how pathetically I kept hoping he’d take me back after the way he treated me...,’ she thought, feeling burning shame.

“That’s true,” Tara allowed. “You couldn’t have known he’d turn into a vampire-whore junkie.”

“But, you were really hesitant to go out with him at first,” Willow started, a contemplative frown on her face.

“After I found out he was one of the Initiative commandos, anyway,” Buffy interjected.

“But all that’s over now,” Tara said, stroking her hand across Buffy’s belly.

“Yeah,” Willow agreed, leaning in to kiss Buffy’s neck. “You’re with us, forever and ever,” she added, whispering in Buffy’s ear.

“So, that’s Little Miss Orgasma-bomb?” Dawn asked with a big grin as they rode the elevator up to their room.

Xander shot his lover a glare. “Funny for you,” he grumbled. “You don’t need a change of clothes afterward!”

Dawn laughed aloud at that. “Come on, Xan, it’s not like anyone was paying attention to you, they had their own troubles.”

A small smile stole over his face, despite the uncomfortable stickiness in his pants. “Good Ol’ Willow. She sure can cause a lot of chaos without even trying.”

“Willow made me cum,” Dawn blurted out with an impish grin, causing Xander’s eyes to bug out.

“Gah!” he gasped, the mental image appearing again, unbidden but not really unwelcome.

“Actually, she made us both cum, just not the way we might have fantasized about,” she added in a thoughtful voice.

“Us and everyone else in the casino,” he muttered after getting over the initial shock of her comment.

Dawn actually pinked a bit at that. “I’m pretty sure Buffy would kill me if I did,” she said, slightly chagrinned.

“You still want to go out?” Xander asked, fishing the key card out of his wallet as they approached their room.

“Sure, I mean, we’re in Vegas — we should go out and see some of it in between the sex, don’tcha think?”

Xander smiled at the casualness of her comment, feeling a teasing tone to her thoughts even though her voice didn’t show it. “Honestly, I’m a little nervous after getting shot and all,” he said, his own voice seemingly indifferent despite feeling somewhat apprehensive.

“Yeah. Even knowing it might not be permanent, it’s not something I would want to go through again,” Xander explained. “I wouldn’t want you to go through it either.”

“Nah, I agree. I want to go out too,” he interjected. “Much as I enjoy our inside time.”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” he replied with a smile. “Just don’t mind me if I take my eyes off your backside once in a while to watch your back.”

“Goof!” she said with a happy smile. “Go change your clothes; we’ve got showgirls to see!”

‘Mmm!’ he couldn’t help but enjoy the mental image as Dawn’s unspoken desires leaked out a bit. ‘Maybe it isn’t just Willow.’

“So, Wil, what were you working on when I came in earlier?” Buffy asked while she watched her lovers finish drying off from their much needed shower.

“Oh, remember when we were talking about trying to find out about that guy that shot Xander?” Willow began to explain — a brief flash of pain on her face at the memory of the shooting. Immediately though, she continued, in her usual bubbly-excited tone, “Xander described the SUV the guy drove, and so I was looking through the police network to see if it had been towed and impounded.”

“Oh, did you find it?” Buffy asked feeling her own brief wave of sadness at the memory of Xander’s death. ‘If Wil can find out who hired him...,’ her thoughts trailed off into images of dealing out a violent pummeling followed by a severe staking. ‘Hopefully they aren’t human,’ she told herself in an uneasy afterthought.

“Yep,” Willow chirped. “There were six dark colored SUVs like he described towed between then and now, but only one of them was a rental where the ID used to rent it turns out to be a fake.”

“But ... how does that help?” Buffy asked, scrunching up her nose in thought.

“Well, it doesn’t, really,” Willow allowed with a frown. “But, I had an idea ... I’m just not sure it’s a good idea.”

“Well...,” she paused, biting her lower lip as she looked back and forth between Tara and Buffy. “If he left fingerprints, maybe that would tell us who he is, and then we could look from there?”

“You can check someone’s fingerprints?” Buffy raised her brows in surprise.

“Well, I can’t — not directly anyway,” Willow answered. “But, the crime scene people can, and I could hack into their computer...,” she added hesitantly.

“Well, they don’t know that the truck was involved in a crime, so they haven’t checked it out or anything,” the redhead explained. “It’s just sitting in the impound yard waiting for them to find the guy who rented it. If they can’t find him after a few days they’ll release it back to the rental agency.”

Buffy shifted from foot to foot nervously as she waited for someone to open the door in front of her. ‘This is a really bad idea,’ she thought, not for the first time. ‘Talking to police — not my idea of fun.’

Despite Buffy’s apprehension, her lovers had convinced her that they should seek out one of the crime scene investigators Willow had encountered the previous week.

Buffy heard shuffling footsteps approach the door from the inside and thus wasn’t surprised at its sudden opening — unlike her two lovers.

“Yes, can I help...,” his voice trailed off as his eyes moved from Buffy’s face to Willow on her left.

“Um ... hi,” Willow said with a small hand-wave after several moments of uncomfortable silence while the man at the door stared, his jaw dropped in shock.

“How did you find me?” he blurted out. His expression then turned suspicious as he added, “Why did you find me?”

“Oh, well ... it’s nothing bad, I promise,” Willow’s voice addressed the look of trepidation on the CSI’s face.

“Well, actually, we can sort of help you ... though, helping you will help us, too,” Willow began. “Can we come in?”

When it looked like he was about to respond, Willow suddenly interjected, “Oh! But don’t invite us in — you should never invite anyone into your house at night.”

‘Willow-babble,’ Buffy tried to hid her smile — unsuccessfully as usual. ‘Poor guy looks like he thinks she’s crazy.’

“Vampires can’t go into your house unless you invite them,” Buffy tried to explain.

“No, no, we’re not vampires,” Willow clarified. “But you don’t know that, and it’s just a good habit not to assume.”

“I see. Fascinating,” he responded incredulously. “So, what is the proper protocol for inviting someone in, without actually inviting them in?”

“You can just step to the side, holding the door open,” Tara elucidated with a soft laugh. “Most people will get the point.”

Buffy let the two witches go in first before following. ‘Must live alone,’ she thought as she took in the modern style furnishings and mostly unadorned walls. ‘Nothing girly about this place.’

He gestured toward a couch in the living room, while taking a seat on one of the chairs facing it. “I don’t believe we were properly introduced when last we met,” he said sounding slightly sardonic. “I’m Gil Grissom, and I presume you already know that I’m a crime scene investigator with the Las Vegas Police Department.”

“More than that, you’re the night shift supervisor,” Willow stated. “And, you have a doctorate in entomology, plus you’ve published a bunch of articles about the uses of insects in criminal forensics.”

“Well, you’ve certainly done your homework,” Grissom stated with a slightly surprised and wary look. “And, you are?”

“Oh, I’m Willow,” Willow answered with a slightly chagrinned look. “And this is Tara and this is Buffy,” she added, gesturing to her left and right respectively.

Buffy glanced at Willow and saw her reflecting his expression, nearly causing her to laugh out loud.

After a moment, Grissom’s shoulders slumped in what Buffy imagined to be defeat. ‘Ha,’ she thought with a grin. ‘Wil wins the battle of the wills — hey, that’s funny. Wil’s will wins!’

Grissom spoke again, interrupting Buffy’s interlude. “So, how exactly can you help me?” he asked with a slight smile and an inquisitive look.

“Well, the police impounded an SUV the other night — and it’s still on your lot,” Willow began to explain. “But, you haven’t processed it, I guess because you didn’t know that it was used by that guy that killed Xander.”

Grissom frowned and then asked, “How do you know any of that, and what would be the point of processing it now? If indeed it was used by the man that shot your friend, well ... you’ve already killed him — or, rather, your friend Dawn has already done so.”

“Hey, that was self-defense!” Buffy blurted out, responding to his disapproving tone.

He looked slightly surprised by her interjection. “I didn’t indicate otherwise; however, I wasn’t there — and to my knowledge, neither were you. How can you be sure?”

“Because I know my sister,” Buffy heatedly responded. “She might be a pain in the butt, but she’s not a murderer ... murderess, or whatever.”

He tilted his head and stared at her quietly for a moment, as though weighing her words. “Regardless; I don’t see how processing his vehicle will help, if he is already dead....” The expression on his face suddenly changed, and then his eyes narrowed and he addressed his own conjecture. “You don’t know who he was, and you think there may be someone else involved ... a partner in crime?”

Though they remained silent, he must have seen something from them because he immediately stiffened. “You do realize that I can’t share information with you, even if I was so inclined—?”

“Oh, that’s fine,” Willow interjected. “We wouldn’t want you to break any rules.”

“It might be better if you didn’t ask,” Willow again cut him off. “Anyway, here’s the vehicle’s information,” she said as she leaned forward and set an index card onto his coffee table.

‘When did she write that down?’ Buffy wondered. ‘I don’t remember her writing anything down ... in fact that doesn’t look written, more like from her printer, which I don’t remember her having...,’ her thoughts meandered off the subject.

“I’m not sure that I’m in a position to help you,” he began hesitantly as he stared at the card.

“Aren’t you obligated to investigate once you’ve been made aware of an alleged crime?” Willow asked, her voice sweet and light despite the hammer-blow of her question.

Her focus snapped back to the here and now, Buffy stiffened — taking up a slightly defensive posture as he glanced sharply towards her redheaded lover.

“Normally, that would be true,” he answered evenly. “However, as it happens, I am currently under suspension.”

“Oh,” Willow said, deflating slightly. “Well, you can pass it on to one of your people, can’t you?”

When he hesitated, Buffy turned to Willow and said, “We could find someone else — didn’t you say there were a couple other CISs there? Wasn’t one of them there with Dawn and almost got shot but Dawn saved her?”

She turned back to the man in the room as she finished her thought. “Maybe she’d be willing to help us.”

‘Bad Buffy, I shouldn’t enjoy this,’ she thought as the color drained from Grissom’s face. ‘But, he shouldn’t be trying to stall us either — or making nasty accusations about my sister.’

“I’ll make sure it gets taken care of,” he hastily interjected, leaning forward to grab the card.

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked, his curiosity apparently overcoming his trepidation.

‘If?’ Buffy marveled at his chutzpah as she watched her lovers don identical arch looks.

He continued as though completely missing their response, “How is it we’ve never seen it before?”

“I don’t know,” Willow began, and then paused with a thoughtful look. “You probably have seen it, but just didn’t believe it and convinced yourself it was a trick of the light or something like that.”

He looked skeptical as he answered, “I’m reasonably certain I would not have dismissed it if I had seen someone appear out of thin air in a crackling ball of blue lightning.”

‘Huh, doesn’t look pissed,’ Buffy thought, ‘just curious ... what an odd guy.’

“Magic isn’t usually so ... flashy,” Tara said after a moment to gather herself.

“There’s nothing wrong with having a little panache,” Willow mumbled her protest.

Just then there was a knock at the door and Buffy watched a brunette enter the house, calling out, “Grissom?”

“Oh dear. Sara,” Grissom sighed so softly that only Buffy’s enhanced hearing allowed her to pick it up.

‘God, rude much?’ Buffy wondered as she looked to Willow and saw that she too was taken aback by the resentment in the woman’s voice.

“How am I the reason you were suspended?” Willow challenged, clearly feeling affronted by the allegation.

‘He seems like he’s annoyed, or embarrassed or something,’ Buffy thought as she watched his eyes slide slowly away from Sara before focusing on Willow.

“You reported what she did and it got us both suspended!” Sara protested, still standing in the room’s entrance, now with her hands on her hips and glaring at the only man in the room.

His eyes slid back to Sara, and his answer was pedantic in its delivery. “I wrote an accurate, factual report. Eckley took exception to the report and, rather than allow it to go on record, applied the only possible course of action that allowed him to reject it—”

“Well, clearly you two have some issues that you need to work through,” Buffy said, adding in her thoughts, ‘in the bedroom.’

“Right, so we’ll just go then,” Willow added, her half-grin demonstrating that she was catching on to Buffy’s point.

The three Sunnydalers stood up and walked toward the exit, causing Sara to hastily move into the room and away from them.

“You know, you two should really consider resolving that sexual tension — it might put everything else into perspective,” Tara’s parting advice came as a shock to all.

Buffy’s eyes bugged out and she hurried out the door before giving in to the laughter welling up inside her.

‘I can’t decide whether this was a very bad idea, or a very good one,’ Xander thought as the scantily clad dancers moved through their elaborate choreography on stage.

‘Scantily clad doesn’t really cover it — ha, no pun intended,’ he added to himself.

«Never have so many feathers and ruffles covered so very little skin,» Dawn ardently agreed with him.

The show ‘La Femme’ was, if anything, more intensely beautiful and erotic than its billing indicated. Without any overt or deliberate bumping and grinding like the strip-show, the women on stage here were nevertheless exuding a blistering-hot sensuality that had Xander nearly writhing in his seat.

‘All natural,’ the thought popped into his head as his eyes scanned the bevy of bouncing breasts before him.

“Wow!” Xander exhaled in awe as one of the dancers bent and twisted in ways he’d have thought were beyond human ability.

“I need to start practicing my yoga exercises again,” Dawn whispered, sounding jealous.

“Uh huh!” he agreed immediately, his mouth getting ahead of his brain. “Uh, I mean—”

They watched in rapt silence for a few minutes as their hands began to slide up and down each other’s thighs — each of them having difficulty restraining themselves from straying into more intimate touching.

When the show came to an end, they immediately joined the crowd’s roaring approval, leaping to their feet and applauding fervidly. In Xander’s case, rising was accompanied by a wince as his erection strained against his jeans.

He leaned into Dawn as she stretched up to speak into his ear. “Remember how I said it was just Willow?”

“Might have been underestimating things,” she replied, her voice was heavy with arousal.

Xander turned to stare into her eyes and saw that she wasn’t just teasing him.

“When we get back to the room I am going to make you scream!” he said with a growl.

“Forget that,” she contradicted. “I’m gonna screw your brains out the moment we get in the cab!”

By this time people were starting to trail out of the theater and the aura of arousal was heavy in the air. Xander glanced left and right and saw that people in their aisle were moving away from them in both directions rather than waiting for them to move. His breathing sped up and he could feel his body flush with heat as an idea struck him.

“Cast it now and I’ll bend you over that seat and take you right here,” he dared.

Her jaw actually dropped for a moment as she gasped out loud. Then her eyes closed and she whispered something for a moment before looking back up at him. “Done.”

He bent down slightly and wrapped one arm around her lower back and the other just under her ass, and then he pulled her tightly to him and kissed her fiercely.

Her legs wrapped around him and she clutched at his shoulders as she moaned into his mouth.

Without a word, Xander broke the kiss and pushed her away from him. As soon as her feet hit the floor, he turned her around and shoved her upper body forward over the back of the seats before them.

He flipped up her skirt and pushed down her panties just enough to expose her pussy. ‘So wet!’ he exulted as he pressed his fingers to her. He wasted no time unbuckling his belt and shoving down his pants and boxers, ignoring the spike of pain in his cock but nonetheless sighing with relief when it at last sprung free.

In a heartbeat he was in her and pumping fiercely, any concern for her discomfort overwhelmed by her cries spurring him on, and his own lust.

«Don’t wait for me, I’ll cum when you do,» she urged, wanting him to let go.

The feedback phenomenon they’d recently experienced happened again and, by the time it faded, Xander found himself exhausted and draped over his lover, pressing her down against the seat-back. “God, sorry ’bout that,” he huffed as he struggled to get up off of her.

“S’okay,” she panted, struggling to push herself back upright, their bodies still joined.

He looked toward the stage to see two of the performers — a smoking-hot brunette and a nearly-as-sexy redhead — still in un-costume, grinning madly at them as they applauded. One of them even let fly a wolf whistle that had him blushing over his whole body.

“I did!” she growled back, and he could see her pale flesh blushing to match his own.

“Madame, Monsieur, please — you should take a bow after such a passionné, frénétique ... how you say it ... spirited — yes, spirited performance,” the redhead spoke with a deep French accent.

Dawn pushed Xander back and out of her, and then quickly pulled up her panties and pushed down her skirt.

“Doh!” Xander grunted, pulling Dawn in front of him to hide behind as he tried to will his erection down. ‘Not helping!’ he thought with combined annoyance and arousal as the two women on stage ceased their applause to embrace each other, the brunette idly toying with the redhead’s right breast.

“Oh, do not hide yourself, grand homme, you have nothing of which to be ashamed,” the redhead said with a laugh.

“Mon chér, your aversion was well done, but ineffective to sorcière, such as we.” The redhead answered.

‘At least that takes care of that,’ he thought as he tucked his rapidly diminishing erection into his pants and zipped up.

“Trust me,” Xander countered, “The sexy evil ones never do, until it’s way too late.”

“We were so very pleased to see how greatly we had inspired you,” the redhead nearly purred as her hands began to openly explore the brunette’s body.

“And so, you have inspired us,” the brunette spoke up, her accent even thicker than the redhead’s.

“She is very beautiful, non?” The redhead said as she moved behind the brunette and reached around to pinch and flick her left nipple, while her right hand wandered down the voluptuous body and between her legs, two fingers disappearing up inside. “As sexy as you, ma fille, and very, very willing to please.”

Xander’s efforts to fight off a return to tumescence were in no way helped by the whimper that came out of Dawn.

“Yes, I see that you like her too,” the redhead said with a moan. “Tell me, mon-petit, would you want to have her lick your slippery little vulva, or would you prefer to watch as she swallows your man’s grand viande?”

“Perhaps your man could take her from behind while she tastes of your honey?” the redhead added, noisily pumping her fingers in and out of the brunette — who was moaning loudly, clearly enjoying both the words and actions of her lover.

“I feel like I did during the show!” Xander muttered unthinkingly, his body flushed with heat.

«Oh my God, you’re right!» Dawn’s mental shout snapped Xander back to awareness. «They’re casting some kind of spell!»

Though still highly aroused, Xander felt the burning heat that had been filling him recede. ‘Some kind of spell alright.’

“You’re right, Xander,” Dawn said aloud, her body stiffening. “They are evil!”

“Un peu de mal, peut-être,” the brunette interjected, causing the redhead to grin wickedly.

“Do not fret so,” the redhead contested, her hands still playing with the brunette, though much more gently. “We mean you no harm.”

“Sure, that’s how it starts,” Xander groused. “Next thing you know, you’re tied up waiting to be sacrificed.”

“Mon ami, what are you saying?” the redhead protested. “We do not sacrifice humans!”

“But you’re sorceresses, right?” Dawn refuted. “Demon sacrifice is right up your alley.”

“Oui, nous sommes des sorcières,” the brunette objected heatedly. “Mais nous n'avons pas le culte du diable!”

“Sorcery, yes,” the redhead answered. “Devil-worship, no; human sacrifice, no.”

“Ah,” Xander said, feeling only partly relieved. ‘I notice she didn’t say anything about animal sacrifice.’

“Well, that’s, uh ... good, I guess.” Xander quickly blurted out. “We, ah ... we’d better go now.”

“You may please yourself, of course. But would you not rather we please you instead?” the redhead asked seductively.

“Tempting,” Dawn said, causing Xander’s breath to catch. “But no thank-you.”

“Your loss,” the redhead sniffed. “Come, slave, let’s see if one of the others will put you through your paces.”

The two dancers walked off, their asses swinging in unison as they left the stage.

‘God, why are all the sexy ones evil?’ Xander thought. “Present company excluded,” he quickly added as he felt Dawn stiffen in his arms.

“Mmm hmm,” Dawn hummed in a tone that let him know he had only just saved that one.

They walked out hand in hand, silently, and went to the valet area to get a taxi.

Only after Xander held the door open for her and followed her into the taxi did he break the silence. “Montecito, please,” he told the driver before turning to look at Dawn. “So ... it was the spell, huh?”

“What you told me at the end of the show,” he prompted. When she frowned, he added, “You know, about how ‘only liking Willow might be an understatement.’”

“Yeah ... I can’t get it out of my head,” she said shaking her head. “Even now part of me wants to turn around and run back to take them up on their offer.”

Licking her lips, Dawn ran her hand up his thigh and whispered, “The glamour should still be in effect....”

Every bit of the lust and desire he’d felt both during the show, and the ‘encore’ came rushing back to him as Dawn knelt between his legs and undid his pants.

‘There is a God,’ Xander thought, causing his lover to giggle loudly as she slid his cock down her throat.

Sara Sidle grunted with satisfaction as she dropped down, impaling herself over and over on her new lover. She smiled with satisfaction as she watched him unsuccessfully try to keep his eyes from rolling back into his head.

‘This is every bit as good as I thought it would be,’ she thought with both pleasure and satisfaction.

“Wonderful ... you’re wonderful,” Gil Grissom gasped out, his hands gently running up and down her thighs and hips as she rode him cowgirl-style.

“Mmm,” she hummed delightedly, feeling her impending orgasm grow ever closer.

========== BtVS ==========

She felt a thrill of fear run through her as she scrambled out of the way of the three women exiting Grissom’s living room.

‘God, one of these days my mouth is really going to get me killed,’ she thought, chagrinned at her overtly rude behavior in confronting the woman she had witnessed perform some powerful and scary magic.

Her face flushed with heat as the taller blonde stopped, turned and said, “You know, you two should really consider resolving that sexual tension — it might put everything else into perspective.”

Neither she nor Grissom spoke as the three women exited the house and could be heard laughing as they walked away.

Her inner imp rose up at that point and she turned to face her friend and boss and said, “She’s right you know. It couldn’t hurt.”

She maintained eye contact despite the crawling feeling in the pit of her stomach while he stood there looking gobsmacked. ‘He shouldn’t look so surprised, It isn’t the first time I’ve let him know I wanted him,’ she thought peevishly.

To her surprise, he’d said nothing, but advanced toward her and swept her into a passionate kiss.

========== BtVS ==========

“Not that I’m complaining, mind you — pretty much the exact opposite, in fact,” she began with a sigh. “But what made you change your mind?”

“About what?” he asked, his usual, questioning frown not quite able to overtake the look of pleasure on his face.

“About this,” she said, taking his hands from her hips and interlacing their fingers as she increased her pace.

“Ngghuh ... oh!” he grunted uncharacteristically, to her great delight. “This.”

“This,” she agreed. She leaned forward, pulling his hands to her breasts before bracing herself against his chest and beginning to roll her hips as she moved up and down on him.

“Last time, you didn’t seem very interested,” she said quietly, oddly self-conscious given the context of the discussion.

Despite the way she was working him, he managed to focus his gaze intently on her eyes. “I was always interested, Sara.”

“Then why ... why now and not then?” she pressed the issue even as she told herself to leave it and concentrate on what she was doing.

“This time I listened to my heart instead of my fear,” he said with a passionate voice. “This time I made the right decision.”

Emotion rose up inside her and her body began to shudder with orgasmic delight. “Jesus, Gil!” she cried as her body jerked.

She was barely aware of him pistoning himself up into her for a few moments until his face took on a rictus grin and he softly cried her name through clenched teeth.

‘How I love you,’ she thought ardently, nearly crying it aloud as she lay down against him, blissfully content.

“I’m just saying, I would have preferred it if I had noticed them standing there, that’s all,” Xander said as he held open the door to the Montecito Resort Hotel and Casino.

Most of the taxi ride back to the hotel had been taken up with an exchange of oral sex, so they were just now returning to their discussion of the of the odd evening they were having.

“So you’re saying, if you had seen them watching us, you’d have stopped right in the middle?” Dawn laughingly questioned him as she preceded him into the building.

He felt a flush of embarrassment as he pondered the question. ‘Could I actually stop? Maybe—’

‘Maybe,’ he again thought to himself, deliberately ignoring his lover’s contradiction. ‘*If* we got busted by a cop or something ... but probably not just because two hot, mostly-naked women were watching.’

“I’m a bad, bad man,” he said sheepishly as he felt himself hardening in his pants once again.

“Yeah, but I like when you’re bad,” Dawn said with a combination of flirtation and consolation in her voice.

«Besides, it was kinda hot, knowing they were watching.» Her lusty thoughts did nothing to bring his arousal back under control.

“So what about that freaky spell they did on us?” he changed the subject slightly. “I’m not sure how okay I am with that.”

“You mean during the show, or after?” she prompted him, taking his hand and interlacing their fingers as they slowly walked through the casino.

“Both ... either, I don’t — I don’t know,” he stammered slightly, shrugging his shoulders as he conveyed his uncertainty.

“I dunno,” she said, pausing in thought for a moment. “I don’t really think there was any harm in it, at least not during the show.”

“Really?” he asked, surprised. He glanced toward her with his eyebrows raised.

“Sure,” she replied, meeting his eyes. “I don’t think people go to that show because they’re fans of dance choreography, you know,” she said sardonically. “They’re there to get all hot and bothered. After all, that’s why we went.”

“Okay, I can see that, I guess,” he said as they continued to walk. “But what about when they used it on just us?”

“Yeah, that wasn’t too cool,” she agreed. “I mean, it’s flattering that they were offering and stuff, but then it’s kinda like they were trying to force it on us, and that’s no better than some jerk-jock spiking a girl’s drink at a party to get laid.”

“I told you they were evil,” he muttered, still focused on her and trusting his peripheral vision to let them wend their way through the crowed casino floor.

“I suppose,” she concurred begrudgingly. “Not really ‘end the world’ evil, but still — not of the good.”

“Actually, It’s kinda sad how pissed off we’re not,” he said as he thought more about it.

“Well, you said it yourself,” he explained. “If they were a couple jocks that got a hold of a lust spell to sucker girls into sex—”

“We’re barely even annoyed,” he finished, trying not to focus too much on how Dawn’s newly-found bisexual tendencies were driving him crazy.

“Well, I guess guys don’t mind the idea of being treated like sex objects by women,” she said with a smirk.

“I ... I can’t argue with that,” he said after a moment’s thought. “The thought of two hot showgirls trying to take advantage of me ... it’s just not bothering me — not even a tiny little bit.”

“But, I gotta say, the thought of them being sorceresses and probably trying to sacrifice us to some demon — before, during, or even after the sex...,” he trailed off with a shudder — thoughts of Ms. French, his former substitute teacher/preying mantis monster, came to mind.

Xander angled to dodge around someone standing in their path of travel and nearly ran right into him when the guy deliberately moved to block the way.

“Hey, you got a problem, pal?” Xander growled, turning his focus on the impediment, which turned out to be a fifty-ish-year-old man, with thinning hair and a sardonic grin.

“Yeah, yeah I do,” he answered as he held up a golden badge. “I got a real problem with murder.”

“You know, I like Vegas, but it doesn’t seem to like us much,” Dawn opined as their flight began it’s descent into Sunnydale International Airport.

“Yeah, he was like that the first time too,” Dawn agreed, remembering the aftermath of Xander’s death. “At least this time I wasn’t trying to keep it together after watching you die.”

“I still can’t believe how they got my DNA! That’s so gross!” she lamented. “Like I wasn’t already embarrassed enough that I threw up,” she griped with a mutter.

‘It’s not funny!’ she pouted to his mind when she saw him trying to stifle a grin.

“It was kinda funny when he finally figured out who I was,” Xander said after a moment.

Dawn chuckled lightly for a moment before sobering. “Do you think he’ll come after me in Sunnydale?”

“Dunno,” Xander said with a shrug. “If he really thinks you’re a witness, and not a suspect ... maybe not — since he doesn’t have any other suspects.”

He twisted in his seat a bit to more directly face her. “That ‘nothing to see here’ glamour thing won’t last forever on him, will it?”

‘I feel kinda embarrassed about that, but I didn’t know what else to do — I so didn’t want to go back to the police department again,’ she thought as she remembered casting the spell.

“I don’t think so ... depends on if anyone brings it up again, which I’m sure they will, right?” she answered his question aloud. “I mean, if he was supposed to be bringing me in, won’t someone wonder why he didn’t?”

“I wonder about that,” he responded, frowning slightly. “It was kinda weird how he did it ... coming to the hotel himself instead of sending a regular cop, and he never mentioned going back ‘downtown.’ It’s almost like he just wanted to see how you’d react.”

“Well, that didn’t work out very well, since my reaction was to make him practically forget we were even there,” she said, still feeling chagrinned.

“I wonder what he was thinking,” Xander said with a smile. “Do you think he still thought he was looking for you, or did he forget why he was even there?”

“Well, it’s not really a ‘forget it’ kinda spell,” she explained. “It just makes people ignore us, like we’re not doing anything unusual or interesting.”

“In the end, even if they could prove everything, all it would prove is you were defending yourself,” Xander said reassuringly.

“Maybe,” she answered unenthusiastically. ‘Stupid knights ... stupid hit man,’ she thought bitterly.

“Maybe we could get Willow to hack their computer and take out your DNA record?” Xander wondered aloud, trying to offer suggestions.

“I’d have to explain why,” Dawn said with trepidation. “I’m not sure I’m ready to explain about that to them.”

Xander nodded. “You know I totally get that,” he began in a consoling voice.

“But,” he agreed with her nudge. “They were totally cool with what you did to the guy who shot me. Don’t you think they’d be okay with this too?”

“You know I totally support you, whether you want to tell them or not, right?” he asked with an intense stare.

“I do, sugar bear,” she immediately responded — not needing to even think about it for a moment. “And it’s just one more reason I love you so much I can’t even explain it.”

«You do a pretty good job of showing me,» he thought to her with a distinctive leer.

‘If this was a longer flight, I’d show you again,’ she thought. ‘With the glamour, we wouldn’t have to be stuck in a tiny little bathroom. I could straddle you right here and screw your brains out in front of everyone!’

“God, Dawn!” he groaned, gritting his teeth in apparent discomfort. “I’m not going to be able to walk off the plane at this rate!”

‘Maybe ... after we land and everyone gets off,’ she thought to him with a naughty shiver, ‘we could get off ourselves ... up in the cockpit?’

His eyes widened dramatically for a moment before slamming shut as he hunched forward a bit. “Might as well,” he said with a groan. “I won’t be able to stand up with my pants fastened, at this point.”

Xander sat down on the couch in Joyce and Giles living room, his arm automatically going around his girlfriend as she snuggled up against him. “Dinner was great, Mrs. S.,” he said with a smile, his complement truly heartfelt. “Thanks for having us over.”

“Of course, Xander,” she answered. “I enjoy cooking for more than just the two of us — besides, it’s nice to have company on occasion without any impending doom,” she added with a pointed glance toward her significant other.

“Yes, It’s nice that things have settled a bit,” Giles said as he leaned back and took a sip of his tea.

“Yeah, no one’s tried to kill me for almost a month!” Dawn sardonically agreed.

“Dawn!” Joyce remonstrated. “You know I don’t like that kind of talk.”

The exchange brought Xander’s thoughts back to the question he’d been pondering more and more of late. ‘Why Dawn? Why does someone want her dead —and more importantly — who is it?’

Peripherally, he noted that Giles was launching into an explanation of something or other, but he tuned out the words as his mind continued down its path. ‘Giles too ... at least the first time. I wonder if that guy had killed Dawn, if he would have gone after Giles ... Who would want Dawn and Giles dead?’ he asked himself.

“Ice cream,” Dawn’s whisper in his ear — followed by the feel of her tongue in the same place — snapped Xander’s attention back to the here and now.

“Mom and I are making a run for ice cream,” she explained aloud while thinking to him, «Thought that would get your attention!»

‘Mmm, ice cream....’ His mind immediately went to the time they’d experimented with ice cream as an aid to oral sex.

Dawn’s laughter elicited a delicious shiver down his spine. «I don’t think that’s one of their thirty-one flavors,» she thought at the same time she asked, “What flavor do you want?”

“Honey?” Joyce’s voice broke their reverie. “That’s an odd flavor for ice cream.”

Xander smiled broadly as Dawn blushed. “What can I say?” he continued aloud. “I love honey — just can’t get enough of that sweet, sticky stuff!”

“Hmm,” Joyce’s voice conveyed a suspicious note, but she didn’t press the issue. “Come on, Dawn,” she said as she rose from beside Giles.

Xander watched Dawn’s swaying hips with a happy smile as she left the apartment. He turned back to Giles and was momentarily startled to see a dopey grin on the older man’s face. ‘Ooh, bad mental picture — must revert to denial!’ he thought with a shudder.

After the two ladies left, Xander and Giles sat in quietly for a moment before the watcher broke the silence. “I say, you seem a bit distracted ... may I ask what is on your mind?” Before Xander could answer, a look of distaste suddenly crossed the older man’s face and he hurriedly added, “Unless, of course, it has anything to do with any sort of private behavior between yourself and Dawn.”

Xander chuckled at that. “Don’t worry, G-man, I’m not the kiss-and-tell type.”

“For which I am certainly grateful,” Giles said with palpable relief. “If only Dawn herself would ascribe to such an attitude....”

Xander raised his brow at that. ‘Dawn’s telling tales around Giles?’ he thought doubtfully.

“Oh, not so much toward myself, of course,” Giles hastened to explain. “However, it seems that she takes great delight in goading her mother with disturbing innuendo.”

“Yeah,” Xander agreed with a dramatic sigh. “She likes pushing Buffy’s buttons too,” he added resignedly.

“I must admit, I do find some amusement in Buffy’s reaction to her mother’s innuendos....” He trailed off with a fond look on his face.

Xander repressed a shudder. “Well, then I guess she has no-one to blame but herself when Dawn does it to her.”

Another moment passed before Giles again prompted, “Well, then if not that, then what is on your mind?”

‘Do I want to talk about this?’ Xander pondered for a moment. ‘I suppose it couldn’t hurt,’ he decided, ‘otherwise I’m just going to keep thinking about it.’

“Hmm,” Giles acknowledged. “About the lack of an attempt on her life of late, or rather the opposite?”

Xander nodded. “Someone hired that guy to kill you and Dawn, and then again hired another hit man to go after Dawn when the first failed.” He looked Giles in the eye and added, “For all we know, the second guy would have come after you too, if Dawnie hadn’t taken him out.”

“Yes, well ... that thought has crossed my mind more than once,” Giles responded.

“So, got any theories on who wants you and Dawn dead?” Xander voiced the question that had been revolving through his mind.

Giles got up, picked up his tea tray, and headed to his kitchen, as he answered. “Yes, well ... initially, I had thought that the Council might be inclined to take action against Dawn rather than allow the possibility of Glorificus getting her hands on her ... however, that theory lacks merit for several reasons.”

“They would have used their own team,” Xander opined, nodding his head. “I thought of that too.”

“Indeed,” Giles agreed. “Also, after Glory’s defeat, there would be no reason for the council to continue with such a course of action, had they done so in the first place.”

“No benefit in it and the very real possibility of a seriously pissed-off slayer if they even tried,” Xander concluded.

“To a degree,” Giles allowed. “As we don’t necessarily know that they would cease their persecution of the Key despite Glory’s demise, we cannot be certain that they wouldn’t remain a threat.”

“Except that they wouldn’t use a hit man,” Xander disagreed. “Plus, aren’t we thinking that they’re pretty much ‘no more’ since Glory turned them into ghoul-lash?”

Giles barked out a surprised laugh, and immediately covered his mouth with his hand — a look of horror in his eyes.

“Giles!” Xander exclaimed incredulously. “Did you just laugh at one of my ‘entirely inappropriate’ puns?”

“Certainly not!” the watcher immediately protested with a stern look on his face.

Before Xander could add anything, Giles continued on. “So that’s the watchers and the knights out of it then,” he said, returning to the subject at hand. “I’m afraid I don’t really have any other candidates in mind.”

Xander frowned as an image went though his mind. ‘Anya, cleaning up after the slaughter of the Knights ... why does that stick in my mind?’

He looked up to see Giles with a thoughtful frown on his face. “What?” he prompted.

“Hmm?” Giles looked back to Xander, shaking his head slightly. “Oh ... I was just thinking of the Watchers Council.”

“Why?” Xander asked, thinking, ‘I thought we’d pretty much eliminated them.’

“Well, the timing of the initial attempt on my life has me thinking,” Giles began. “It was just after that that I realized Quentin had somehow discovered that Dawn was the Key.”

‘I remember that now,’ Xander realized. “How did he find out? I’m sure none of us told him, and Angel’s gang didn’t even know.”

“I haven’t a clue, unfortunately,” Giles answered. “If it weren’t for the use of a third party — or the continued persecution after Glorificus was already dead — I would have said that Quentin was the most likely candidate behind the attack.”

‘But it doesn’t make sense,’ Xander thought. ‘Much as I hate the guy, I just don’t see why he’d still be trying to get to Dawn — or Giles.’

Xander watched with interest as Giles face suddenly was overtaken by an expression of surprised consideration.

“That reminds me of something I’d forgotten — or perhaps dismissed as unimportant,” the watcher muttered to himself before looking back at Xander.

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” Giles leaned forward and continued, “Just before Quentin left — when he’d dropped by the shop to ‘reveal’ to me the ‘truth’ about Alex and Beth — I’d asked Tara to watch the shop for me and afterwards she informed me of the rather curious behavior of Quentin’s assistant.”

“Jerry or something, right?” Xander tried to remember the guy’s name. “What did she say?”

“Yes, I believe it was Jeremy,” Giles corrected him. “As to what happened, Tara said that Jeremy became agitated — ‘going off on a rant’ as she described it — the substance of which pertained to his apparent unhappiness with Tara as a replacement for Anya, and his perception as to the shop’s deficiencies since Anya’s replacement.”

“What? How did this guy know anything about that ... and why would he care?” Xander responded with surprise.

“As I mentioned to Tara, this Jeremy fellow was one of the mob that Quentin brought along for Buffy’s supposed ‘testing’ before they would share their information regarding Glorificus,” Giles explained. “I was not, however, aware that he and Anya had spent any time together.”

‘Spent time together...,’ the phrase flowed through Xander’s consciousness, eliciting imagery that sparked an angry response. ‘That bitch! She fricken cheated on me with Jeremy the weasely watcher man!’ He shook his head, ‘Wait a minute, why should I care — I mean I dumped her, why would I care who she screws?

‘Yeah, but this was before ... we were still together...,’ his mind was whirling at the possible revelation.

“I remember thinking at the time that perhaps I’d been worried about the wrong watcher,” Giles continued — apparently oblivious to Xander’s turmoil.

“Holy crap!” Xander shouted as the statement caused a specific thought to crystallize in his head.

“Good Lord!” Giles exclaimed, sounding startled. “Whatever are you shouting about?”

“Good Heavens, man; you’re not making a bit of sense,” Giles remonstrated. “What do you mean ‘you’re trying to run your shop’?”

Xander felt a chill run through him. “When Buffy and I went to the Magic Box to get that golden ball — dragon sphere thing—” he began.

“Right, that,” Xander went on uncaringly. “Anya was there, cleaning up after Glory killed those knights ... I asked her what the hell she was doing and she said, ‘Well, obviously, I’m trying to run my shop.’”

Xander cut him off. “It makes perfect sense ... if she and Quentin Jr. hooked up ... it had to be them.”

“Xander, I don’t follow,” Giles began as he took off his glasses and reached for his handkerchief. “It had to be them ... what?”

“Besides me, the triad, you, Joyce and Dawn — who else knew that Dawn was the Key?” Xander growled. ‘That bitch ... that demon bitch!’ his mind was rumbling with fury.

“That’s how the watchers knew ... that’s who sent the Knights of Byzantium ... and the two hitmen!” Xander scowled. “It makes perfect sense!” He jumped to his feet and strode toward the door without another thought.

“I’m gonna go settle things with my ex!” he snarled as he walked out the door.

“Oh dear,” Giles sighed aloud, not for the first time, as he sat waiting for Joyce and Dawn to return from the grocery store. “I dare say that Dawn will not be at all pleased with this development. Bloody thoughtful of you, Xander, leaving me with the chore of explaining it to her.”

The door to his flat suddenly slammed open. “Okay, Giles, what the heck happened?” Dawn’s voice filled the flat with unequivocal ire.

“Dawn!” Joyce admonished her daughter as she hurried in after her. “What’s gotten into you?”

“Something happened,” Dawn’s voice was angry and a little frightened sounding. “I get this surge of rage from Xan, and then it’s like he just shut down.”

The angry young woman turned her attention back to him and he felt a shiver of trepidation. ‘How very like her sister,’ he thought. ‘That expression of impending violence is nearly identical to Buffy’s.’

“And now the Yukon is gone!” Dawn continued unabated. “Where did he go?”

“I-I—” Giles stammered, both alarmed and fascinated. “You say you actually felt Xander’s rage?”

“Giles, as much as I know you’d like to whip out the books and start investigating the whole mental-connection thing, I’d really appreciate it if you’d focus,” her voice was low and deliberately calm. “What happened to piss him off, and where did he go?!”

Giles sighed heavily and took off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We were discussing the attempts made on your life and mine earlier this year.”

“Okay,” Dawn as she dropped back onto the couch, her arms tightly crossed before her. “What about it?” she added, her voice flat and brittle.

Giles paused to look up at his lover with a wan smile as she sat on the arm of his chair and wrapped one arm around him snugly. “We reviewed what information and conjecture we have on the matter — as we’ve done many times before — when I recalled something I hadn’t related previously.”

He briefly reviewed the event in his mind once again before Dawn’s voice snapped him back to the present.

Giles couldn’t help but smile for just a moment. ‘Whatever doubts she’s had about her origins, that growl definitely makes her Buffy’s progeny in one way or another,’ he mused.

“Yes, well ... I recalled that Tara’d had a brief encounter with Quentin’s lackey Jeremy last month in the Magic Box,” he started explaining. “Apparently, while he was waiting for Quentin to ‘appraise’ me of the Beth and Alex situation, he went on a tirade about Anya — going on about how the shop had been better run when she was in charge of it, and so forth.”

“I don’t understand,” Joyce’s voice sounded strangled. ‘What does that have to do with...?’

‘Oh dear,’ Giles thought as his lover’s voice trailed off even as he saw Dawn’s face go pale.

“That bitch!” Dawn whispered, her voice sounding equal parts shocked, appalled, and enraged.

“It was her — she’s the one who told the watchers about me, Mom,” Dawn explained not sounding the least bit sorry for her language. “She’s the only one that could have — the only one besides us who knew!”

“It explains everything!” Dawn nearly shouted, rising to her feet and beginning to pace back and forth. “She probably hoped the watchers would come after us, and when that didn’t work she went and blabbed her stupid cow mouth to the stupid knights! She’s the ‘traitor’ or ‘betrayer’ of whatever they called her ... remember, Giles?”

“Yes, of course,” Giles mumbled uncomfortably, his mind going back to his ‘questioning’ of the knight they’d captured in Las Vegas.

“But I don’t understand. Why ... why would she want to hurt you?” Joyce cried bewilderedly.

‘Indeed, after all, Dawn and Xander had not yet begun their relationship at that point — what would be her motivation for targeting Dawn?’ Giles pondered.

“She must not have thought Buffy could take Glory,” Dawn said with a thoughtful-looking frown — answering the first question. “But what did she have against you?” she added, echoing her mother’s query.

“Trying to run her shop,” Giles muttered, repeating Xander’s comment to him earlier.

Giles removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose as all the information coalesced in his mind. “When Xander and Buffy went to the shop to recover the Dagon sphere, they found Anya there, cleaning up the aftermath of Glory’s massacre of the Knights of Byzantium,” he began his exposition. “When Xander inquired as to what she was doing, she stated that she was ‘trying to run her shop’.”

“Oh my God!” Dawn’s jaw dropped in apparent shock. “She thought with you out of the way she could have the Magic Box?”

“Apparently she saw an opportunity to kill two birds with one stone, as it were,” Giles said resignedly. “How prosaic.”

“But Glory’s gone,” Joyce’s voice was tenuous. “Why would she still want to hurt my baby?”

‘My poor, sweet Joyce,’ he thought tenderly as he looked up to see her forlorn expression. ‘Still so innocent to the evils of the world — both human and demonic alike.’

“You were convenient when she wanted me dead,” Dawn said flatly. “Now I’m convenient when she wants you dead.”

“Honestly, Dawn,” Giles began tiredly. “I imagine she’s less concerned about the Key at this point and more likely jealous of your relationship with Xander. She doesn’t seem to be one to easily let go of something ... or someone ... she feels should be hers.”

Dawn once again dropped down onto the couch. “And so he went to find her,” she sighed, returning to the original subject.

“Oh dear,” Joyce said nervously. “He won’t — will she — oh dear,” she stammered, sounding concerned, but unsure for whom she was more concerned.

“I think the ice cream probably needs to go in the freezer,” Dawn suddenly seemed to jump off-topic.

Joyce seemed relieved to have something to do as she jumped up. “Oh my goodness, you’re right! I completely forgot!”

As soon as her mother had gone off to the kitchen, Dawn leaned forward and quietly, but fervently whispered, “Giles, if I can find out where he went, will you go and stop him?”

“He can’t have her blood on his hands, Giles,” she whispered impassionedly. “Please.”

His eyes widened. “Ah ... I see,” he stammered as he realized exactly what she was asking of him.

Suddenly she leaned back and the intense look dropped away. “I might be able to do a tracking spell, Giles,” she said as though the whispered conversation had never happened.

“That’s a good idea, Rupert,” Joyce agreed, nodding her head wholeheartedly. “We wouldn’t want him to do anything reckless.”

A protest died on his lips unborn. ‘This, I suppose, is the reprisal for Xander’s part in Glory’s end,’ he thought with a resigned sigh.

He paused for a moment before answering. “Cast the spell, Dawn,” he said at last, thinking, ‘I owe him this, if nothing else.’

Faith had just ducked a punch from a vamp in front of her, and simultaneously managed to kick her feet up into the air just before a vamp to her rear could sweep them out from under her. Her body became horizontal to the ground, spinning on an axis near her waist and she struck out to both sides of her body, staking both vamps concurrently and then tucking into a roll as she hit the ground.

“I’m impressed!” Buffy added as she walked up to the dark haired slayer as she popped back up to her feet.

“Damn right!” Faith bragged. “Girl’s got to step up her game if she wants to hang with you!”

“Faith!” Buffy protested half-heartedly. “You’re going to make me blush.” Faith’s blatant leer caused Buffy to break into giggles. “Stop that, you’re supposed to be spoken for these days.”

“Am. Don’t mean I can’t take a look ... you know, enjoy the view,” Faith responded.

“Well, that’s true,” Buffy allowed — taking a moment to enjoy her own view of Faith’s leather-covered ass and her breasts threatening to spill out of her skimpy tank top.

‘Not fair,’ Buffy thought as she scoped out the stacked slayer. She took a moment to glance down at her own figure, covered in a sports bra and her super-low hip hugger leathers. Her lips formed a pout, and she sighed — feeling a momentary pang of jealousy. ‘Mom totally gypped me on the boob genes.’

“Oh please,” Faith’s protest snapped Buffy out of her momentary funk. “Like you ain’t the hottest little chická in Sunny D ... well, ’cept for Bethy,” she added in an afterthought.

‘Nice to see Faith moving on,’ Buffy thought fondly. ‘Not that I’d mind seeing her chained to my bed and covered in crop marks — Hey!’ she shook her head, suddenly startled by the derailed train of thought. ‘Bad Buffy’s-brain!’ she chastised herself. ‘No naked-Faith thoughts!’

“Ya sure? Lookin’ kinda flushed there,” the brunette pressed, a growing grin on her face.

‘Dang it!’ Buffy felt her face get hot. “Yes, I’m fine, Faith,” she clearly annunciated.

“It’s the tits, ain’t it?” Faith smirked. She reached up and grabbed her own breasts, unabashedly squeezing them. “You and Red both gotta real fixation on tits.”

“Shut up,” Buffy protested weakly, unable to deny Faith’s statement. ‘Wil and I do both seem to fixate on Tara’s chest,’ she admitted to herself. ‘And Faith’s, and Beth’s and Dawn’s — hey!’

She tried to get her mind off of the sudden image of all her lover with Faith and Beth and her sister all topless. ‘Dang it, that’s Willow’s fantasy, not mine!’ she tried to convince herself. “So, uh ... how was the slaying while I was gone?” she stammered.

Faith laughed and shook her chest one last time at Buffy before answering. “It was pretty sweet,” she began. “Couple a days after you guys left they musta figured it out an thought they was gettin’ a free shot, ’cause they was out and about big time.”

“Oh,” Buffy said, suddenly concerned. “Any problems?” she asked, worried about leaving Faith to face such numbers on her own.

“Nah,” Faith shook her head dismissively. “Like I said, it was pretty sweet. What Xan calls a ‘target rich environment’ ya know?”

“Well, as long as you had fun,” Buffy said feeling relieved. ‘It’s so nice to have someone here for when I want to go on vacation!’ she thought, happily remembering her month-long idyll in the city of sin. ‘Speaking of which....’

“You know, if you and Beth and Alex want to take off anytime—” Buffy started.

“What? No, I mean like on vacation and stuff,” Buffy quickly explained. “You know, like you guys could go to Vegas — take it from me it’s a lot of fun! Of course, Jamacia was a lot of fun too ... really, pretty much any place away from the Hellmouth has potential,” she trailed off as she realized her brain was rapidly leaving the subject at hand.

“Oh,” Faith’s posture relaxed. “Yeah ... you know, I never really thought about that.”

Buffy tilted her head slightly and watched Faith’s face as a myriad of emotions went across it.

“Damn...,” Faith exhaled, a look of dawning realization on her face. “Ya’ know, B.? Except for prison, I been on the run, like, my whole life.”

A dark look adorned the brunette’s face as she continued. “Mostly runnin’ from some pretty crappy stuff ... couple a times runnin’ to something that didn’t turn out like I hoped...,” she trailed off, dropping her eyes.

“Guess I wasn’t ever in a place I thought I could afford to take a break, ya know?” Faith said softly.

‘I don’t know what to say,’ Buffy thought, feeling for Faith, but not really understanding. ‘Maybe I should just be quiet?’

“Guess I just ... I dunno. It’s startin’ to feel like home — like I’m home, you know?” Faith mumbled, still staring at the ground.

“After the thing with Acathla,” Buffy began, pausing to see if Faith knew the reference.

The brunette’s nod led Buffy to continue. “I ran away — from home, my friends ... mostly I think I tried to run away from slaying.”

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as memories of those terrible, lonely days ran through her mind. “Even after I came back it didn’t really feel like home ... I almost ran away again because I thought no one wanted me here anymore.”

She hastily blinked away the tears that were welling up in her eyes before forcing a less depressed tone into her voice. “Anyway, I think I get what you mean, even if it’s just a little bit.”

“I’m glad you feel at home, Faith,” Buffy said sincerely. “You should. You’ve got friends here as well as lovers.”

‘Aww, she’s cute when she’s all bashful and stuff,’ Buffy thought, smiling indulgently.

“Anyway,” Faith continued, straightening up with a mischievous look replacing the briefly displayed vulnerability. “I’m gonna take off. Bethy and Alex are waitin’ up to help me take care of the ASHH, ya know?”

“Yeah, right,” Faith laughed disbelievingly. “Like you ain’t got Red waiting on her knees to give you the ol’ spit-shine the moment you walk in the door.”

“I do not!” Buffy objected. ‘She’s not *waiting* that way ... she’ll drop to her knees once I get there.’

“Bye,” Buffy called after her. She turned and began walking towards the exit on the opposite end of the cemetery.

She was walking along, humming softly to herself when a sudden movement off to her left caught her attention. “Oh, one for the road!” she said happily, taking off in a run to intercept.

‘Uh oh, looks like some one decided to move into Spike’s old crypt,’ she thought, catching a glimpse of a dark-haired male as he passed through the door into the mausoleum.

Slowing her run to a crawl, she snuck up to the crypt and slowly entered, her eyes sweeping left and right for any sign that he may be hiding from her. ‘Here vampy, vampy, vamp,’ she thought with a predatory grin.

The sound of an argument between male and female voices drew her attention to the back of the crypt, and the hole that Spike had made leading to his ‘basement boudoir.’

‘Hey, I know those voices,’ Buffy was shocked to realize. She stood frozen on the spot and listened intently.

‘Never thought I’d be coming back here,’ Xander thought as he entered Spike’s former home. ‘And for pretty much the same reason,’ he gulped, trying to keep the nervousness and nausea from emptying his stomach of the acid that was eating away at it.

His eyes did a quick sweep of the empty crypt as he headed for the hole in the back. He awkwardly climbed down the ladder, facing outward and keeping his right hand — which was holding his invisible pistol — close to his body, but pointed roughly toward the bed where there was a body-shaped lump under the sheets.

‘I guess I should be glad to find her alone,’ he realized as he took in the picture before him and suddenly realized there could have been a potential witness/innocent bystander present.

‘She always was a heavy sleeper,’ he thought for a moment as he noticed her soft snore.

Quickly he shook off the moment of melancholy memory as the rage returned. ‘She tried to kill Dawn!’

“Huh?” her voice carried confusion as she shook off sleep. “What — who? Xander?” she sat up with a confused frown.

Tangentially, he noticed and was relieved to see that she had worn clothes to bed.

‘That’s right, bitch,’ he thought darkly as her expressive face moved quickly from confusion, through realization and fear before fixing into a grin that was closer to a grimace than a smile.

“Xander, what are you doing here?” she asked in an attempt at a lighthearted tone.

Her shoulders slumped and her grin drooped into a pout. “You figured it out,” she muttered dejectedly. “How did you find me?” she asked, her eyes down and her fingers picking at the blanket covering her lap.

His anger ebbed to an aching throb in his head as he waited for some other reaction from her. ‘She’s not even pretending to be sorry,’ he thought bewilderedly. ‘Not that it would help ... why am I even thinking about that? I should just—’ his mind skittered away from the thought even as his hand tightened on the grip of his pistol.

“She’s not a danger, we took out Glory!” he riposted immediately. ‘What am I doing?’ he wondered even as he gave in to the old habit of arguing with the former-vengeance demon.

“She’s still dangerous,” Anya complained mulishly, apparently not at all uncomfortable falling back into her role of squabbling shrew.

“She’s not!” he shouted. “The whole ritual was a one-time shot! Even if Glory was still around, she couldn’t use Dawn to open a jar of pickles, let alone anything dangerous!”

“She took you! You were supposed to be mine!” she screamed, her face turning nearly purple with the effort.

Dumbfounded, he blurted, “What? I — she didn’t take me from you, you stupid — I ended it with you over a month before Dawn and I ever—”

“With her dead, you would have come to your senses eventually,” Anya said matter-of-factly — her rage gone in an instant. “It’s not like anyone else would have wanted you ... I would have taken you back after a suitable period of abject apologies from you. Oh, and a great deal of begging, of course.”

After a minute of stunned silence, he muttered, “That’s crazy, I’d never—”

A chill descended down Xander’s back. ‘She’s completely insane,’ he realized.

“She took you! You were supposed to be mine!” Anya’s voice rang out as Buffy stumbled back against the wall by the entrance to the crypt.

‘Oh my God! It was Anya?’ Buffy sank down the wall of the crypt until she was sitting on the filthy floor — so shocked as to be entirely uncaring about her leather pants touching the grimy surface.

The buzzing in her head drowned out the sounds of continued arguing and she had no idea how much time had passed when the door to the crypt swung inward and nearly pushed her over onto her side.

‘Giles is here?’ she mused wonderingly as her watcher entered — missing her presence entirely as he focused on the sound emanating from the underground argument.

‘Beyond surreal,’ she thought, shaking her head as her eyes followed the older man across the crypt and down the hole.

“What are you going to do, point your finger at me?” Anya’s voice grated on Giles nerves as he quickly scrambled down the ladder.

‘Just made it,’ Giles thought with relief and consternation as he took in the tableau. “Xander,” he called out breathlessly.

“I have to, Giles,” Xander’s voice was tortured. “She’s completely insane ... she won’t stop,” he added, sounding almost as if he expected another argument.

“You’re right, of course,” Giles said softly as he stood behind him. “She won’t ... but you don’t have to have to do this.”

Xander half-turned toward the watcher, his confusion written plainly on his face.

“*You* do not have to do this, Xander,” Giles made the offer somewhat more plain.

Xander’s expression softened. “She’s my responsibility,” he whispered, his argument clearly only half-hearted at best.

“Not this time, son,” Giles said softly, placing a hand on Xander’s shoulder and offering him a kind, if sad, smile.

Xander’s entire body slumped with released tension as he nodded, accepting the older man’s offer.

Her entire body was shaking with shock and dismay as Buffy strained to hear the conversation between the two most important men in her life.

Even as she thought to move toward the hole in the floor, she froze stiff when she heard Xander climbing the ladder up and out.

He trudged out, eyes down and body language looking defeated. She was surprised when he walked within a few feet of her without any apparent notice.

“It’s not fair, Giles. I wanted the shop, I deserved it. I’m the one that made it a success. And Xander is mine — that slutty little slayer’s sister can’t—”

Buffy jerked like she’d been slapped when the crack of a gunshot filled the crypt.

‘Such an eager little puppy sometimes,’ Tara couldn’t help but smile indulgently at Willow’s reaction to Buffy’s return.

The smile faded quickly when she saw her pet’s countenance. “What’s wrong, Buffy — are you okay?” she asked, rising up from the couch and moving towards the smaller blonde.

Willow’s eagerness visibly dimmed for a moment, but then the redhead again started bouncing on her toes as she said, “Well, maybe this will cheer you up. We have a lead on the guy that shot Xander.”

Tara watched Buffy for any reaction as Willow related the information they’d found.

“The Vegas police couldn’t find his prints in any system, but they managed to trace the ID he used and it looks like he followed Dawn and Xander from Sunnydale to Vegas, and I was able to hack the Sunnydale police records of towed vehicles and they had an SUV almost exactly like the one in Vegas and they found some guns in it so it was probably his and then we went to Willy’s and he said if someone hired anybody in Sunnydale to kill someone they’d have had to go through this Darmsaugen named Bob — can you believe that name for a Darmsaugen demon — I mean they eat intestines, which — Yuck — but seriously, ‘Bob’? Anyway, so we still don’t know who hired the guy but all we have to do is find Bob, and he’ll probably know—”

“Anya? What about her?” Tara asked; sudden suspicion bringing along a sour feeling to her stomach.

Willow gasped loudly. “Goddess, of course! How did we not see it — she’s the only one who knew about the Key!”

‘Oh dear, this isn’t good,’ Tara thought as Willow began to get visibly worked up.

Buffy’s statement took the wind right out of Willow’s sails. “Dead? How?”

Tara moved to pull the slayer into her arms even as Willow began to ask, “Did you—?”

Tara led her lover to the couch where Willow quickly joined them. “Just tell us what happened, sweetie,” the blonde witch softly encouraged.

Buffy took a deep breath and sniffled before starting, “Faith and I had just finished patrol....”

Tara rubbed the slayer’s shoulder softly, feeling her own eyes well up at Buffy’s despondency.

“I saw someone running ... thought it was another vampire, ‘one for the road’,” she added with a humorless chuckle. “He went into Spike’s old crypt and I snuck in after him.”

“No,” Buffy shook her head, pausing yet again before continuing the story. “When I went in I heard voices arguing — I recognized them right off — Xander and Anya.”

“It’s been a while, but the sound of those two arguing ... it was so familiar,” Buffy added tangentially. “I don’t know how long I stood there, when I heard her scream out that Dawn had taken him from her ... that he’d come around after ... after....”

“Shh, Buffy,” Tara said soothingly at the look of rage that sprung up on Buffy’s face. “Then what happened?”

“No!” Buffy quickly denied. “I was so shocked I backed up against the wall and kinda collapsed down on my butt and right then the door swung open and Giles was there,” Buffy recounted with surprise in her voice. “He didn’t see me in the corner there — he was all out of breath — and he hurried over to the hole and climbed right down, calling out, ‘Xander,’ like he was trying to stop him from—”

‘Killing Anya,’ Tara’s mind supplied the unvoiced conclusion to that sentence.

“Then what?” Willow’s voice and face both showed rapt attention to the story.

“Xander was all, ‘I have to, she’s insane, she won’t stop’,” Buffy’s voice was anguished. “He sounded like he was crying.”

“He was all, ‘You’re right, she won’t, but you don’t have to have to do this.’ I was sure he was going to talk him out of it,” Buffy said, sounding slightly breathless as though she was reliving the scene.

“But he meant it like it had to be done, just that Xander didn’t have to do it,” she said, shaking her head. “I heard Xander whisper something about it being his responsibility, but Giles said, ‘Not this time.’”

“I know,” Buffy quickly added. “I was like, ‘“Not this time”? What the heck does that mean?’”

“Then Xan was coming up and out of the hole ... I thought he’d see me for sure, but he was totally staring at his feet and just walked out,” Buffy went on. “I didn’t know what to do, like if I should go after him or what and then I heard Anya start in on Giles — all whining about how unfair it was, and she should have had the shop and she should have Xander and then ‘Bang!’”

Tara jumped at the loud exclamation. ‘Willow too,’ she thought seeing Willow’s shocked look.

“Giles ... shot her?” the redhead’s voice was high and quiet, echoing Tara’s astonishment.

When Buffy continued, her entire demeanor was subdued. “After a little bit, Giles came up and walked out. I don’t know how, but he didn’t see me either,” she shook her head.

“Giles ... he...,” Willow’s voice sounded as though she was asking Buffy to tell her it wasn’t so.

Tara reached across the slayer to hold her fellow witch’s hand. ‘I’m afraid that ship has already sailed,’ she thought sadly.

“I gotta admit,” Willow started softly. “Part of me is freaked that Giles killed someone, but ... I can’t say I’m sorry she’s dead.”

‘Goddess, I shouldn’t feel like this ... but I do.’ Tara admitted to herself ashamedly. Rather than admitting it aloud, she just nodded slightly.

“Then it got really freaky,” Buffy continued, causing Tara’s eyebrows to climb upwards.

‘Just come home, sugar, just come home.’ Dawn sat on the couch, legs in a lotus position, trying to project her feelings to her lover. In the background of her mind played the last hour’s events, despite her trying to ignore them and focus on calling Xander back to her.

========== BtVS ==========

The door to the apartment closed behind Giles as he left to find Xander. “Mom, I’m sorry to bail on you like this, but I need to go home — I need to be there when Xander gets back,” Dawn had said, the guilt of leaving Joyce alone overwhelmed by the worry she was feeling about Xander.

“I’m not stupid, you know,” her mother’s voice sent a cold shiver down Dawn’s back.

“Whaddya mean?” she said, cringing inside at the squeaking quality of her voice.

“I may be a little slow on the uptake sometimes,” her voice was just slightly shrill and she stopped and took a deep breath before continuing. “You didn’t send Rupert to ‘calm him down’! You sent him to ... to—”

“Mom,” Dawn started, feeling tears well up in her eyes.

Joyce’s tenseness dropped away and she fell back into the armchair with a deep sigh. “It affects him, you know,” she said sorrowfully. “That knight ... even the mugger.”

“I never thought it wouldn’t,” Dawn replied softly. “Believe me, I know how it feels.”

“Oh, honey,” Joyce’s voice cracked with emotion.

“But it can’t be Xander, not this time!” Dawn’s voice was quiet, but filled with intense inflection. “Not with her.”

Joyce let out another deep sigh. “No. No, I suppose you’re right.”

Silence reigned for a moment before Joyce added. “It shouldn’t be like this — the world isn’t supposed to be this way. Monsters aren’t supposed to be real!”

Dawn laughed humorously and said, “We’re some of the ‘lucky’ few that get to see the world the way it really is. Sometimes it’s so ugly that it makes me want to vomit.”

“Only sometimes?” Joyce said with a wry almost-grin.

“But sometimes,” Dawn went on with images of magic gone right and making love with Xander filling her head. “Sometimes it’s so beautiful that I cry and laugh all at the same time.”

Joyce appeared to ponder that for a moment. “Sometimes It’s hard to remember that ... to even believe that.”

“This is one of the ugly times,” Dawn agreed, nodding her head. “But, when the night is over, and we’ve comforted our men,” she grinned at her mother’s smile, which was immediately followed by a pointed look and a shudder.

“Then maybe tomorrow can be one of the beautiful times,” Dawn finished — her grin transitioning into a genuine smile.

“And the next day?” Joyce asked, appearing hesitant to believe.

“We worry about the next day after tomorrow,” Dawn answered with a shrug. “We endure the ugly times and enjoy the beautiful ones.”

“Okay,” Joyce said with a more convincing smile. “You go comfort your man, and I’ll wait for mine.”

“Just don’t tell you any details,” Dawn answered with a smirk.

Joyce raised an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.

“Are you okay?” Dawn asked more seriously.

“No, not really,” Joyce said with resignation. “I’ll survive, though.”

Dawn stood, walked over and pulled her mom to her feet so she could wrap her in a tight hug. “I love you, Mommy,” she whispered fiercely.

“I love you too, baby!”

========== BtVS ==========

Dawn smiled at the feeling of her lover’s approach. «Oh sugar,» she projected in response to the wave of anger/guilt/sadness/fear coming from Xander.

She stood when she heard his key turn in the door lock and wrapped her arms around him as he shut the door behind him.

“Dawn,” his voice was ragged and her name was almost a sob. “I — Anya — she—”

She released her embrace and took his hand. “Come sit down,” she said, leading him to the couch.

“I know,” Dawn said softly, staring into his bewildered gaze. “She sent the knights after us, she hired those hitmen.”

Xander sagged back into the corner of the couch. “She actually thought ... really *believed* ... that I would take her back if you were gone.” He shook his head.

“It’s okay, sugar. It’s over now,” she consoled him, crawling up to straddle his lap and lay against him, nuzzling her head into the crook of his neck. «She can’t hurt us now.»

“You sent Giles, didn’t you?” he said — sounding more like a statement than a question.

She leaned away from him just far enough to look into his eyes. “You couldn’t have her blood on your hands, Xan,” she said flatly.

“I know,” she acknowledged, cupping his face in her hands. “I know you would have, but I think it would have broken you ... a little at least.”

He stared at her without verbal response. «God, I love you!» she heard in her head.

“You never loved what she is — you loved what you thought she was,” Dawn explained her thoughts. She laid back into the crook of his neck and continued, “Giles isn’t going to be warm and fuzzy about it, but he’ll be okay. Besides, it’s self defense for him.”

“I guess, it sort of is,” Xander allowed. “Indirectly, she’s tried to kill him ... God, what kind of person thinks they can kill someone and just step into their life like nothing happened?” he asked with disgust and wonder in his voice.

“What should we do instead?” he asked — his voice sounding warmer that it has since he’d entered their home.

“Take out your wallet and keys,” she said as though it were a filthy proposition.

“My wallet and—?” he started to question. “Oh! Oh boy!” he said with realization.

He struggled to comply with her instruction even as she turned her focus inward and found the seat of their mystical connection. As the sound of the keys and wallet hitting the floor reached her consciousness, she unleashed the fire within.

“Gah!” Xander grunted aloud as the flames wrapped around them like a cloak. “I will never get tired of that!”

Her giggle transitioned into a purr of pleasure as she felt his cock spring up — freed from the confines of his clothing — cradling in the cleft of her ass.

With the experience of much practice, Dawn rose up — feeling him slide along her bottom while she rotated her hips back to catch the head of his dick perfectly against her opening before dropping back into his lap — enveloping him to the root in one smooth motion. “And I will never get tired of that!” she sighed with delight.

He slid his hands up her flanks to gently squeeze her breasts, sliding his thumbs over and around her stiff nipples and eliciting a high-pitched moan from her lips.

She ran her fingers into his hair and leaned her head down to capture his mouth in a languid kiss, rolling her pelvis up and down just slightly, so that he was moving within her — but not so much as to separate their dueling tongues.

She had no track of time as they maintained their gentle movements, but eventually he erupted within her, setting off her own orgasm with a low groan.

“I was kinda freaking out — I mean, I’ve seen worse — but it was Giles, you know?” Buffy asked rhetorically. “And then I got this cold chill feeling and suddenly there was this weird, sort-of goat-faced demon standing there.”

“Did he attack you?” Tara asked, also feeling worried despite the evidence that Buffy was unharmed.

“That was weird too,” Buffy answered with a negative head-shake. “He just stood there, all dressed in robes and looking down at Anya. He shook his head and made ‘tsk, tsk’ noises.”

“I was all about to kick his ass,” Buffy went on, “But he was all, ‘Take it easy, Slayer.’”

“Well, no,” Buffy replied with audible chagrin. “He said something like, ‘Rest easy, Slayer, I mean you no harm,’ but you know — same difference.”

Tara couldn’t resist a chuckle — harmonizing with Willow’s giggle at the typical Buffyism.

“Anyway,” the slayer went on, rolling her eyes. “He said he was there for Anya, and I was all, ‘You’re a little late,’ and he was all, ‘On the contrary, I’m just in time’.”

Buffy paused momentarily and her voice was an awed whisper as she continued, “Then Anya stood up—”

“I know!” Buffy affirmed. “Except, it was like one of those cartoon ghost thingies, her body was still laying on the ground, but at the same time she was standing there — kinda see-through.”

“Totally!” Buffy nodded forcefully. “She was all, ‘He shot me?! That’s completely unfair!’”

“Wow, she’s a complete bitch even in the afterlife,” Willow said, shaking her head with a look of disbelief on her face.

It must have shown on her face, because Willow pouted slightly and muttered, “Well, if the shoe fits....”

“Sorry, Tara,” Buffy apologized softly. “But I gotta agree with Wil on this one.”

‘I suppose,’ Tara thought with a shrug. ‘She did try to have Dawnie and Giles killed ... more than once.’

“Anyway, it was like she was about to start ranting again and then she noticed goat-guy and froze, her mouth was hanging partway open and her eyes got real big and then he started laughing — total bad-guy ‘bwuhahah’ laugh.”

Buffy paused, scrunching her nose and looking up and to the left, as though trying to remember something. “She called him something ... Hoffman? Doffman?”

‘Sometimes I think she does it on purpose,’ Tara thought, grinning at her lover’s malapropisms.

“He’s Anya’s ex-boss,” Willow explained. “He’s in charge of all the vengeance demons.”

“Oh — Oh!” Buffy exclaimed after a momentary confused look. “He’s that demon that tried to offer you a job as a vengeance demon!”

“I don’t think I heard that story,” Tara said with a mock-disapproving glare.

“It was when I cast that stupid ‘my will be done’ spell,” Willow admitted softly with eyes downcast.

“Oh,” Tara remembered. “When you made Buffy almost marry Spike,” she added, hiding her grin at the way both of her lovers suddenly frowned with equal looks of distaste on their faces.

“Eww, so that was D’Hoffryn, huh?” Buffy interjected quickly. “Anyway, when he finished his creepy-laugh, he was all, ‘I knew your scheming would fail!’ and she looked like she was going to argue or something but then she just pouted real big and muttered that it wasn’t fair.”

“Kinda like she’s insane, or something,” Tara agreed too. “Definitely a different worldview.”

“Then what happened?” Willow prompted when Buffy didn’t immediately continue.

“That was the freakiest thing,” Buffy said with a shudder. “He grabbed her head, and suddenly it was like she was flat — like paper! He actually folded her up into a little square and tucked it in his robe.”

“Like I said: freaky,” Buffy reiterated. Her nose crinkled as a look of concentration formed on her face. “Then he turned to face me and he said something like, ‘Congratulations, Slayer. While I never imagined she would succeed, I have to give her points for creativity with that curse. However, she clearly neglected to take into account the power and skill your witches have at their disposal. I would have enjoyed seeing the three of you die horribly, but you win some, you lose some. I will have to make do with my consolation prize.’ Then he patted his robe where he’d stuck folded-Anya and poof! He was gone.”

‘I hate this,’ Joyce thought not for the first time this evening as she paced back and forth in the kitchen. ‘I think the waiting might be worse than knowing what he’s out there doing.’

A momentary flash of guilt crept into her heart and she ruthlessly suppressed it. ‘No, that girl tried to kill my daughter three times now — not to mention Rupert.’

To kill time, she prepared everything for tea, stopping the water just short of a boil. Then she went pack to pacing. ‘Why does Rupert have to be the one?’ The question kept popping up in her mind.

‘Who else is it going to be?’ she asked herself once again. ‘I don’t like the idea of Buffy or one of the girls killing someone — not that I like the idea of anyone killing somebody.’

She shook her head angrily. ‘What kind of a world do we live in where I even have to have this conversation ... with myself,’ she finished the thought with a rueful grin.

‘I don’t feel very lucky,’ she thought, remembering her conversation with Dawn. ‘I think she was right that Xander can’t be the one to ... take care of ... Anya,’ she shuddered with distaste at the idea and her mind shied away from picturing it. ‘She said, “Not this time.” What does that mean? When did Xander ever ... Who did Xander ever...?’

The sound of the front door being unlocked disrupted her musings. “He’s back,” she whispered nervously. She did just remember to turn up the heat under the kettle before quickly moving out to the living room.

“Oh Rupert,” she sighed as he entered, taking in his haggard mein. “You look terrible,” she blurted out unintentionally.

He burst into unexpected laughter, as she clasped her hands to her mouth in shock at her own tactlessness.

“Are you okay?” she asked, wincing at the inanity of the question. “I mean, did you ... did she...?”

A moment of shock stole across his face, which then fell even further than it’s already low state. “Figured it out, did you?” he wearily asked as he dropped down onto the couch.

“Oh!” Joyce jumped as the tea kettle suddenly whistled loudly. “I — uh, I’m making tea,” she explained, feeling foolish even as she said it. “I’ll just...,” she trailed off and then fled to the kitchen.

‘Get ahold of yourself!’ she chastised herself as she poured the boiling water into the pot and draped the cozy over it. She picked up the already-prepared tray and took it into the living room.

She quietly prepared his cup, nervous and waiting to see if he would break the silence.

“No, I—” she paused to sip her own tea before answering. “I confronted her ... yelled at her actually,” she finished with an embarrassed grimace.

“She sent you to kill Anya.” The bald statement escaped her lips. ‘Oh my,’ she thought, surprised at herself even as she saw a similar emotion reflected in his face.

“I might have found a softer way to say it,” he began. He took another drink and then set his cup and saucer back down on the tray. “However, that is indeed exactly what she did.”

“Do you hate her?” the question slipped out even as she thought, ‘God, I’ve lost all control over my mouth tonight!’

“No, not at all,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “Do you?” he countered.

“No!” she immediately replied. “I don’t know,” the more honest response followed on its heels.

She closed her eyes and leaned back into the couch. “I hate that it had to be done. I hate that you had to be the one to do it, and I suppose I’m a little angry with her for making you do it, even if it was necessary.”

“I too would have much rather it not have been necessary.” Giles said with a sigh. “I could not, however, in good conscience allow Xander to kill his former lover — no matter how justified it might have been.”

“That’s what Dawn said,” Joyce said. “Do you ever worry that Dawn is...?” she trailed off — afraid to finish the thought aloud.

“Far too shrewd and cunning for a young woman her age?” his voice filled her silence.

“I was going to say ‘manipulative’,” she replied feeling her face grow hot. “Yours sounds nicer.”

His chuckle sounded slightly more genuine than the previous laughter, and she smiled in response.

“Yes, I fear that we shall have to be ‘on our toes’ as it were when dealing with your youngest,” he said sounding almost more proud than angry. “Whereas Buffy would generally pout and deploy the ‘puppydog eyes’ to manipulate me, it seems Dawn is far craftier and less reliant on her feminine wiles.”

“I think I’m for a shower, and then bed,” Giles said as he set his now-empty cup aside.

“Good idea,” she said, standing and taking him by the hand to lead him towards the bathroom.

‘I thought he was going to say no there for a second,’ she thought as a look of protest appeared on his face, and then washed away into a small smile.

They didn’t speak as they disrobed and stepped into the shower. Without pause, she took the soap and began to wash his body, gently but thoroughly cleaning every inch of his skin.

When she finished washing his legs and let the spray rinse him clean, she remained on her knees.

‘This should get rid of that tenseness you’re feeling,’ she thought with a smile as she lifted his flaccid penis up and prepared to take it into her mouth.

“Let me,” she cut him off. “Let me do this for us,” she said just before sucking him into her mouth.

‘His mind may be reluctant,’ she thought with pride as he quickly swelled erect between her lips, ‘but his body isn’t! I love this,’ she thought happily as she languidly slid her mouth from tip to root over and over. ‘I love you!’

Not too much time passed before he was groaning and then filling her mouth with a breathless cry.

The look on his face conveyed the gratitude he left unspoken and it was with a much less strained silence that they finished their shower and prepared for bed.

Later that night as they held each other in their arms, the room dark and silent, He spoke at last.

“Though clearly evident that you are not — I cannot for the life of me understand why you aren’t disgusted with me for what I have done tonight, and not for the first time — nor even, I fear, for the last.” His words were articulate, but his voice was raspy and broken.

She hugged him a little closer as she answered. “Tonight just made me love you even more than I already did, Rupert.”

She interrupted before he could express another word. “Not because of what you did,” she hastened to explain. “But because it was terrible, and horrifying, and ... and unfortunately necessary. And, you did it — even though it obviously hurt you deeply, once again you did what had to be done to protect me and my daughters.”

She kissed his forehead as he nuzzled into her bosom — his body softly shaking as he cried silent tears. “I’ve never met a man who could love someone the way you love me. Rupert. I didn’t know it was even possible.”

‘Let it out, my strong, wonderful man,’ she thought as she stroked his back and his hair and let him purge himself of some of his pain.

“This ugly, ugly day is finally over,” she whispered. “Maybe tomorrow can be beautiful.”

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The Wuffara ChroniclesRepercussions, Reactions, and RetaliationsBook IV

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Read the rest of the Wuffara Chronicles:

The Wuffara Chronicles
Repercussions, Reactions, and Retaliations
Book IV