Brand New World

Work Hard, Play Hard

Author: Robert Cox <smeghead_76[at]dodo.com.au>

Rating: M-15+ (Australian system) for violence, language and other fun stuff

Disclaimer: I don't own diddly. That's literally, as well as in the sense of this story, so it'd be an exercise in futility to sue.

Summary: As the world comes to terms with the supernatural, the US government gets involved in the vampire-slaying business.

Pairings: Oz/Willow, Buffy/Xander... for real, this time!

Feedback: It's encouragement for my muse to stick around, instead of buggering off to a RWC match.

AN: This has taken longer than I expected to come out, as Final Fantasy X + (recently) Rugby World Cup = not a lot of writing time...

AN2: The 'song' mentioned is actually real. Seriously - do you think I could make up anything like that?

AN3: Once again, many thanks to Danyel, for taking valuable 'Matryoshka' writing-time to beta this (hint! :)

AN2: The songs are, in order of performance, 'The Freshmen' by the Verve Pipe, 'True Colours' by Cyndi Lauper, 'Iris' by the Goo Goo Dolls, and Queen's 'Princes of the Universe'. And many, many abject apologies to Our Gallant Archivist for unloading this on him. I'm sorry, I really am :)


Slayerette House, Miramar NAS

Xander woke up suddenly, and for a few moments, wondered exactly where he was. This wasn't his room. Enlightenment came in the form of the gorgeous blonde in his arms.

<Blonde... beautiful... Buffy?>

He froze for a moment, afraid that this would turn out to be nothing more than a particularly nice dream. Then Buffy mumbled something incoherent, and snuggled a little closer, which conclusively proved that he was awake. Of course, he also lost the ability to think coherently for the next couple of minutes, but that was a small price to pay.

As he lay awake, gazing lovingly at the woman he loved, a new voice broke into his thoughts.

<Come on, lad. Time to start the new day.>

Xander groaned - quietly, so as not to disturb Buffy - in dismay. <Five more minutes?> he addressed the extra tenant in his head.

<You've had six hours, what more do you want?> the voice replied with a gentle snort. It was a *little* more complicated than that, but that was the way Xander chose to interpret the feeling. Despite the fact that he now had a room-mate in his head, it was still *his* head, dammit, and-

<And just *what* do you plan to do? Charge rent?>

<That's not all that bad an idea, now that you mention it, except for the fact that you probably don't have any money, and even if you did, how would I go about collecting it?>

<I would have thought that the invariably excellent advice I've been giving you recently would count as rent,> the voice - Soldier Boy - said dryly. <But to return to the original topic, if you wanted more time, then you should have gone to bed earlier.>

<True,> Xander admitted. <But last night was special, and I wasn't too keen for it to end, not even... hey, *why* am I trying to explain this to you? You *were* there after all, and since you're on the inside of my skull, you've also got a pretty good idea of my thought processes as well.>

<So? I've always been of the opinion that if things are talked out, they become clearer.>

Xander wasn't paying all that much attention, and only the fact that the 'conversation' was taking pace entirely within his own mind allowed him to notice it at all. To be fair to him, though, the fact that he was staring at Buffy's sleeping features - so much more relaxed and peaceful than when she was awake - as if committing every detail to memory was probably enough to grant him some leeway. In some distant corner of his mind, he hadn't fully caught up with the fact that Buffy was in love with him, and-

<Enough of that, young man!> Soldier Boy snapped. <I can see I am going to have to do something about your apparent lack of self-esteem. Most young men in your position would be overjoyed, not worried.>

<Yeah, but...> Xander replied weakly.

<But nothing!> Soldier Boy rejoined, before continuing in an apparent *non sequitur*, <What's the motto of the Regiment?> Naturally, he didn't have to say *which* regiment.

<Who Dares Wins,> Xander replied, wondering where this was heading.

<Precisely! You dared, and you won. Now stop fretting and drag your sorry arse out of bed. Today's the day you and the others start weapons training,> Soldier Boy added with an over-exaggerated shudder.

<Hey! I'm not *that* bad, I'll have you know... well, I don't *think*so, anyway,> Xander clarified, considering that he'd never really used a firearm before.

<*That* doesn't exactly fill me with confidence,> Soldier Boy grumbled. <Now, get weaving.>

<All right, all right. I'm going.>

Sighing, Xander gently unwrapped an arm from around Buffy's body and equally gently shook her shoulder. "Morning, beautiful. Time to start the day, I'm afraid."

*****

Buffy's eyes popped open with an almost audible 'click'. Less than a foot away was Xander's face, wearing an expression that could only be described as...

Loving, Buffy realised. Bed-head, morning breath and other similar ailments - *none* of that mattered to Xander, she understood, and the thought that someone could love her that unconditionally was reassuring. After the Angelus debacle, she'd begun to worry that disaster lurked in the background every time she dared to love someone. Intellectually, she knew different, but it was a completely different story emotionally.

After she'd come back from her... unscheduled vacation in Los Angeles -she felt a brief stab of guilt when she recalled the fear she'd put her mother and her friends through, and another as she thought of how Xander and the others had been forced to do her job in her absence - she'd started to revert to her pre-Slayer personality, in an attempt to shield herself from future disaster. Xander had been the one to break through the wall she'd started to erect around herself, though. Granted, it had been when he'd threatened her when Willow had been kidnapped, and she doubted that Xander had done it intentionally, but whatever the reason, the result had been the same.

Then Angel had returned from Hell - or whatever was on the other side of Acathla - and she was still wondering why she'd tried to hide it from the others. It was a futile effort - not to mention a bad idea... at *best* - and the reactions of the others when they found out had been a pretty good indication of that. After all, any relationship between her and Angel had been 'star-cross'd' in a way that made Romeo and Juliet seem like a normal couple, but she'd still persisted in trying to make it work.

And then there was Faith, who'd come to Sunnydale after the death of her first Watcher, and pursued by a particularly nasty Master Vampire by the name of Kakistos, who'd been dealt with fairly quickly. The puzzling thing, however, had been the way both she and Willow had reacted to the younger Slayer. Why had they taken such a dislike to her? A dislike that had gotten worse, she realised, when Xander had started to try to bring Faith into the group, and had peaked when they'd found out that he'd slept with Faith.

But that was something she was going to have to discuss with Willow, she decided. Apart from anything else, it was too early in the morning for such deep thoughts, not to mention the fact that she was getting... distracted.

Xander had obviously noticed the way she'd zoned out for a few seconds. "Thinking naughty thoughts about the Xan-man?" he asked with a grin.

She hadn't been of course, but the way he asked the question, combined with the grin...

"I am now," she replied with a smile best described as lascivious, which caused Xander's grin to blossom into a full-fledged smile for a moment, before becoming an expression of mock-disappointment.

"As much as I'd love to see where this line of conversation takes us, we really *do* have to start the day," Xander said with a small sigh. "First up is weapons training, and then our trip to Los Angeles."

Buffy's expression became uncertain. "I'm not so sure about that, Xan," she said softly. "I've never liked guns, but I suppose it can't hurt to learn how to use them."

"That's the spirit, Buff," Xander said gently, ducking in for a quick kiss. "And at least you'll treat them with the right amount of respect," he added, glancing over he shoulder at the alarm clock on the bedside table and sighing again. "But as much as I'd love to just stay here all day, I'm afraid that's not an option."

It was an attitude that Buffy shared in full, since she felt warm... *safe* in Xander's arms. But he was right - it really *was* time to face the world.

<Damn it.>

*****

A quick shower later - the thought of sharing that shower had been tempting, but they'd managed to resist somehow - they wandered into the kitchen to grab some breakfast, where they encountered their first surprise of the day.

Allan Deniston was sitting at the table, sipping on a cup of coffee and chatting idly with Joyce. "Morning, Allan," Xander said cheerfully.

"Morning, Xander," Allan replied without turning around.

"So, what brings you by?" Buffy asked, equally cheerfully.

"I'm the poor, benighted soul to has to teach you how to use a weapon without shooting yourself in the foot," he replied, turning around... and seeing that they were holding hands. His face went blank for a moment, and then a broad grin split his features. "Excellent!" he exclaimed. "I'll be sure to collect my share of the winnings sometime today."

Xander groaned in dismay. "Don't tell me *you* were involved in the betting pool as well," he semi-pleaded.

"Only as of yesterday afternoon," he assured Xander - <Which, come to think of it, isn't all *that* reassuring,> Xander thought - as Joyce chuckled lightly.

"Don't tell me you were involved as well, Mom," Buffy said pleadingly to Joyce.

"Of course not," Joyce replied.

"Why doesn't that make me feel much better?" Buffy asked Xander.

"I don't know, but if it's any consolation, that doesn't make *me* feel much better, either," Xander replied.

*****

Three-quarters of an hour later, along with Oz, Willow and Faith, they found themselves in one of the areas that had been set aside as training areas for the troops involved in Operation Stoker. As they piled out of the Humvee that Allan had used for transport, the Scoobies' eyes were drawn to-

-the five groundsheets, each with a MP-5PDW and a single empty magazine resting on them.

Allan saw the direction of their looks, and nodded solemnly. "Yep, today's the day we start you with weapons, and may God have mercy on our souls," he said gravely, grinning at the chuckles his comment elicited, before slipping into instructor mode.

"If you'll take your places - one to a weapon," he continued, "we can begin."

Buffy and Xander picked the two at one end, and Oz and Willow took the other end, leaving the one in the middle for Faith. The unspoken message was clear. <You're part of the group, Faith, and we'll *treat* you like part of the group.> Once that had been sorted out, Allan said. "Now, I've personally checked and cleared every single one of these weapons, and the first thing we're going to cover is- Xander, what the *hell* do you think you're..."

His voice trailed off as he saw Xander start to carry out a full safety check on the weapon he'd just picked up.

*****

<Bloody Americans,> Soldier Boy grumbled inside Xander's head. <Think you're God's gift to special operations.>

<Hey, we're not *that* bad,> Xander replied, to which Soldier Boy -Xander hoped the request to Hereford for further information would come through soon - simply maintained a pointed silence. <Yeah, yeah, all right,> Xander conceded. <Now can you talk me through the procedure before Allan decides to tackle me or something?>

<It's not that I don't trust Allan's competence,> Soldier Boy explained again, <but I prefer to check any weapon I'm going to handle myself -even if only by proxy. First up, check that the magazine is empty, which should only take a glance... good, that's it,> he continued as Xander followed his instructions. <Now, make sure the weapon isn't pointed at anyone, tilt the weapons so that the ejection port is facing the ground and move the cocking handle to the rear and open position.>

The breech locked open with a soft *klack* noise. <Tilt the weapon the other way to inspect the breech... good. And finally, place the butt to your shoulder with the muzzle pointed towards the ground and the weapon parallel to the ground, and wait for Allan to declare the weapon clear,> he concluded. If he sounded slightly smug... well, the bemused expression on Allan's face gave him the right. <That was well done, by the way,> he added. <I've known soldiers who have completed their recruit training, and who should know how to do this, not do as well.>

<Thanks,> Xander replied with genuine gratitude.

Allan blinked a couple of times, before remembering what he was supposed to do next. Making sure not to step in front of Xander, he gave the breech of the weapon a quick inspection, pronouncing it clear and watching as Xander closed the breech and dry-fired the action. Shaking his head, he said, "I should really stop being surprised by anything you do, Xander. Let me guess - Soldier Boy, right?"

Xander nodded. "That's right," he replied.

Shaking his head again, Allan continued with the rest of the lesson.

*****

Small-arms Range, Miramar NAS

The lessons had continued without let-up for the rest of the morning, and had been focused entirely on the practical aspects of weapons training. As Allan had put it during the lunch break, "You don't really need to know the cyclic rate of fire, or the muzzle velocity of one of these things. You just need to know that if you pull the trigger, it goes bang and a bullet comes out. And what to do if it doesn't go bang when you pull the trigger. If you *really* want to know all of that other stuff, I can go through it with you later."

Not that there hadn't been enough practical to fill the time, anyway. Degrees of weapon readiness, stoppages and immediate actions, stripping and cleaning... and if the pace seemed slightly forced, they knew the reason why.

That night, the Scooby Gang would resume active operations for the first time since Graduation.

One interesting aspect had been the varying rates that each Scooby had absorbed the lessons being imparted. Xander had been the quickest, almost as if he was simply being reminded of something he'd forgotten -which was true, in a way. In fact he'd been so quick that he was able to devote a fair amount of time to coaching Buffy, and Allan had been slightly tempted to challenge him to a race to see who could strip and reassemble an MP-5 the quickest. It had been a niggling worry that Xander would prove to be the quickest that had stopped him in the end.

Instead, he'd decided to leave Xander pretty much to his own devices and concentrate his efforts on the other three. Oz was picking up the lessons pretty well, and Allan was confident in his abilities to handle the weapon. It had been Willow and Faith who had ended up having the most difficulties.

Willow, because of her dislike of weapons, although she was starting to overcome that dislike. Xander and Allan had discussed that during one of the brief breaks between lessons, and Xander had said, "To be honest, I can't really see Willow being a shooter unless things go wrong - but it'll still be better if she knows how to use a weapon in the first place, though. I think she'll be more involved in the technical side of things."

Faith's difficulties had sprung from the fact that she had killed three people - one accidentally, two not - and she was now being asked to pick up a weapon that had been expressly *designed* to kill yet more people. Both Xander and Allan had resolved to keep an eye on her, with the intent of trying to keep her out of situations where she wouldn't have to point a loaded weapon at a human or worse, fire on a human. But they knew that managing that would be difficult at best, given the recent atrocity in Chicago.

But both young women had gradually overcome their difficulties and MP-5 training had given way to pistol training - the standard sidearm of the American military, the Beretta 9mm - and once again, Xander had cleared his own weapon, and done well enough to spend at least as much time as coaching Buffy as training himself.

It was the middle of the afternoon now, and the training had moved on to marksmanship training. Xander glanced at the screen next to him which reported the fall of shot - his last shot had been in the nine-ring, slightly low - and he made a minute adjustment in his position before taking a deep breath, letting half of it out and squee-eezing the trigger.

*CRACK!*

Xander took another glance at the screen and grinned slightly. <X-ring!> he exulted silently.

<You're a pretty good shot, lad,> Soldier Boy complimented. <But it'll be a different matter on the two-way range.>

Xander didn't have to ask what was meant. He knew instinctively that 'the two-way range' referred to a situation where the 'targets' were shooting back at him.

Roy Webber, who was acting as Xander's shooting coach, nodded approval. "Pretty good shooting," he commented, unknowingly echoing Soldier Boy's comment. "You'd definitely qualify with a Marksman rating, and you might even end up pretty close to Master," he added.

"How are the others doing?" Xander asked while waiting for the target to pop up again.

"Fairly well, on average. Buffy's actually doing slightly better than you, and Oz's score is only slightly lower. Once Willow was convinced that the weapon wouldn't bite her, her scores started to pick up, but Faith..." Roy shook his head slightly. "She's still jittery, even though her shooting isn't all that bad. If she gets over her worries, Allan'll have to worry about his 'best shot' title."

At that moment, the target popped up again, and Xander squeezed off another shot. "Ten-ring, eight o'clock," Roy announced.

"Well, it's not all that hard to see why Faith'd be a little jittery with weapons," Xander replied, and fell silent for the next three shots, all three of which were in the X-ring, which caused Roy to raise a somewhat surprised eyebrow as Xander removed the now-empty magazine, replaced it with the second full one, and stretched slightly before resuming his firing position.

"Two eighty-eight out of a possible three hundred so far," Roy commented, before raising his voice. "Hey, Allan! How's your score?" he called out.

Allan was taking the chance to get in some shooting himself, as the small-arms range had its own Range Master, which was a position determined by roster. "Two ninety-four," he called back. "Why?"

"Oh, Xander's only six points behind, that's all," Roy replied.

"Buffy's doing somewhat better," Jack Henderson, who was coaching Buffy contributed. "Two ninety-one."

"Bloody hell!" Allan exclaimed, surprised.

*****

As they were cleaning the weapons prior to returning them to the armoury - albeit temporarily - the final scores were a subject of discussion. Oz, Willow and Faith had all obtained the scores required to qualify with both the MP-5 and Beretta, but Xander and Buffy had been the standouts. With the sub-machinegun, both had finished with a score of five eighty-five, compared to Allan's five-ninety. With the pistol, Buffy had slightly edged out Xander, scoring two ninety-one compared to two eighty-seven. Allan had shot two ninety-five.

After the last weapons were slotted into their racks, Allan asked Xander, "What weapons load-out are you taking tonight?"

Xander thought for a moment before replying. "MP-5s for myself and Buffy with five mags each." At Allan's slightly raised eyebrow, he shrugged and added. "Yeah, I know it sounds a bit much, but we can return ammunition we don't end up using. If we run out, it's an entirely different story. Apart from that, it'll be pistols, stakes, holy water and crosses all around."

"Good choice, Xander."

*****

Caritas, Los Angeles

After a short helicopter ride and a surprisingly short drive, they Scoobies and Allan's team stood in what was, for all intents and purposes, an empty parking lot. "Are you sure we're in the right place?" Allan asked adjusting his jacket so it covered the MP-5 slung under his right armpit better.

"This is where we were told it would be," Xander replied, a little uncertainly.

"Is it just me," Oz said suddenly, "or is anyone else feeling disinclined to proceed?"

Realisation dawned on all present. "Hey, Willow -" Xander started.

"On it, Xander," Willow cut him off, pulling a Palm Pilot from a pocket and turning the hand-held computer on. Both Xander and Willow had been issued with the devices, loaded with custom-designed programs and memory cards stuffed full of information. Where Willow's held information regarding various types of magic, Xander's information was more along the lines of the various types of demon they were likely to encounter and their weaknesses. Of course, Xander being Xander, he'd manage to cram one memory card full of MP3s.

After a few seconds, Willow looked up from the screen. "Aversion spell," she announced. "Unless we're *certain* that the place exists, we get gently steered away from whatever the spell's protecting. Basically, a non-violent defensive spell. Camouflage, if you will."

"I guess that confirms the information that says the place is a hangout for non-violent demons, then," Faith commented.

"Not necessarily," Xander replied. "They could just be really interested in hiding. There's only one way to find out for sure, I guess." With that, he took Buffy's hand and stepped forward. The others followed close behind.

*****

Lorne glanced towards the door when he heard the approach of newcomers. In fact, he was glad to be distracted from the Chaos demon's singing, as it was pretty awful, and even the destiny that was being revealed was merely a variation on a theme he heard at least a dozen times a day.

There were eleven of them, all human - not vampire; Lorne could tell the difference - and five of them were wincing at the butchering of 'Candle in the Wind' that the Chaos demon was perpetrating. The other six looked around, their expressions confused and amazed. Come to think of it, the five who were wincing were looking somewhat astonished themselves.

Newcomers, then. Lorne headed towards the door, carrying out his role as the Host. As he approached the group, though, some of the faces became recognisable... and recognised. The group included the four young people who'd fought so bravely at the Sunnydale Massacre, seeing all their friends and family die in the process. The brown-haired young woman was unfamiliar to him, but he could tell that she was a Slayer.

The other six, however... now that he was closer, he could identify them as soldiers - and he had a suspicion that he knew what *kind* of soldier they were.

Pale Riders, bringing death to every demon they encountered. Great. As if he didn't have *enough* to worry about with the human-supremacist hate groups running around loose, now his little hideout had been discovered. Although there were spells in place to prevent acts of violence on the premises, they wouldn't be much good against an attack from the *outside*, carried out by people who never set foot in the door.

Oh well, there wasn't much he could do about it if they had hostile intentions. Best to meet them, and see what happens from there.

*****

"Greetings and welcome to Caritas, where you can find out what destiny has in store for you! I'm the Host. My name is Krevlorneswath, but since most people seem to find that too much of a handful, you can call me Lorne."

Xander was put a little off his stride by the exuberance of the greeting, but he suspected that was to conceal nervousness. After all, he *was* the owner of a demon bar that had just seen a demon-hunting team enter the premises. It'd be only natural for him to be nervous. "Hi, Lorne," Xander replied, a little off-balance. Introductions were quickly sorted out after that, and before too long, tables had been claimed, with Lorne, the Scoobies, Allan and Roy at one table, while the other members of Allan's team paired off and took two more tables, which allowed them to keep an eye on the rest of the club.

It wasn't that they were expecting trouble, but being prepared for trouble anyway meant that if the worst *did* happen, they wouldn't waste precious seconds figuring out what to do. Besides, it was standard procedure.

"So, what brings you to my humble abode?" Lorne asked, as a waitress brought drinks over.

"Curiosity, mainly," Buffy replied. "We heard about this place, and decided to check it out."

"Mainly because the information we had suggested that the demons who hung out here were non-violent types," Willow put in. "If the rumours we heard were true, it'd be worth the effort to identify the non-violent types. There's enough trouble to go around in the first place without adding to it."

Lorne nodded. He could understand that viewpoint, and agree with it. Now, if he could pass that information on to his customers... but how would the soldiers react? He glanced at Allan, then Roy, and then Xander. All three were wearing near-identical half-smirks, which meant...

<They know *exactly* what I plan to do with this information,> Lorne realised. <And they agree.> Well, he supposed that made sense, since it'd let them cut down on the amount of work they had to do, plus it reduced the risk of inadvertently bringing a species that had previously wanted to be left alone into the fight - and not on their side, either.

"Plus I'm sure you're in a position to hear lots of good information," Xander added, cutting into Lorne's thoughts.

"I won't tell of the details of any destinies that are revealed to me," Lorne protested. "In fact, I'm hesitant about telling the person whose destiny it is, especially if it's not overly good."

"Fair enough," Xander said. "In fact, if you were willing to do that, I'd be suspicious. If you hear of anything nasty being plotted, though, would you pass that on?"

Lorne thought about that for a moment. "Sure," he agreed. "I can do that. There's one thing I want you to do for me, however."

"What's that?" Buffy asked, slightly suspicious.

"Nothing onerous, I promise," Lorne said. "How do you think I find out about peoples' destinies?" His answer was a round of shrugs, and he hiked a thumb in the direction of the stage, which the Chaos demon had -finally - left. "Singing, that's how." The expressions on the other faces at the table were a sight to behold as a thought occurred to them, which caused Lorne to smile broadly.

"If you could sing for me, I'd regard it as a great favour," Lorne concluded. "Besides, knowing even a little about your destinies might come in handy."

*****

Elsewhere in Los Angeles

In one of the large warehouses in the port district - currently unused -people were gathering, people from all walks of life, with but one thing in common - faith.

These were people who believed - *knew* - that Satan's servants walked the earth, in the form of the demonic, trying to ensnare human souls for their master, covertly and from the shadows. But they were in the open now, and it was now the duty of God's faithful to oppose them wherever they were. The governments of man might decry their works, calling them 'vigilantes' or 'terrorists', but they were doing the work of the righteous, and if any innocents lost their lives, they would be welcomed as martyrs into God's Kingdom.

And it was possible that Satan had set his snares for the government agents, subtly and with great care, without the victims realising it. They might believe they served a righteous cause, while in reality, they might be unknowingly serving a darker purpose. So it fell to them to rescue any such unwilling dupes from the peril they were in.

Tonight, however, they would strike a fearsome blow against their enemies. A nest of demons had been located within the city, and it was their duty to expunge such foulness from the face of the earth. As weapons and improvised explosive devices - Molotov Cocktails - were passed around, a handful of priests also circulating, bestowing blessings and calling upon God to grant them success.

The Second Inquisition, as they called themselves, was about to carry out its first mission.

*****

Caritas

Somewhat reluctantly, the Scoobies had agreed to sing for Lorne, almost as much because they weren't overly confident about their singing abilities as any nervousness about having their destinies revealed to them. There was also the concern as to what Lorne would do with the information he obtained, despite his assurances on the subject. It wasn't that they didn't trust him, more that they didn't know him.

In the end, the Scoobies decided to take a chance and sing. The method they used to decide the order was pretty interesting - or so Lorne thought, anyway, being a combination of coin-tosses and rock-paper-scissors. Faith was the lucky - or unlucky, depending on the point of view - winner, having to go first. After a quick perusal of the available songs, she made her selection, stepped up onto the stage with her body language betraying her slight nervousness, and began to sing in a slightly husky contralto.

"When I was young I knew everything "And she a punk who rarely took advice "Now I'm guilt-stricken, sobbing with my head on the floor..."

Lorne, sitting in his usual position near the bar, was nearly overwhelmed by the force of the emotions unleashed by the performance. Apart from the destiny of the singer, he also got a glimpse of their state of mind. From Faith, he got:

<guilt... i killed people... i nearly killed them all - xander with my own hands - yet they're being nothing but friends to me... do i deserve the second chance? what if i screw up again? what will happen then?>

Lorne decided that he needed a drink, and quick. If the others' emotional states were anything like Faith's, this was going to be painful.

*****

Warehouse, Port District

With preparations complete, the members of the Second Inquisition began to move towards their waiting vehicles. The source of the information that revealed the location of the demon nest - the name alone, 'Caritas', was an affront to their sensibilities - was an anonymous tip-off, which had caused some dissent. Some of the members had argued against carrying out the mission, given that, saying, "We should take note of the mistakes made by the first Inquisitors. Our targets are the demonic and their servants, and our efforts should be directed against those and those alone. If we receive information of this kind, we should investigate carefully, as we run the risk of becoming like those which we hunt. Nor will we indulge in the sort of wanton indiscriminate slaughter the so-called 'Defenders of Humanity' seem to revel in. Let them be the sledgehammer; we will be the scalpel."

In the end, a compromise had been worked out. Two volunteers would be sent to investigate the rumour, and if it turned out to be false, then no action would be taken. If the rumour turned out to be true, however...

As it eventuated, the rumour *had* turned out to be true, and the Second Inquisition was set into motion, trusting in God and the weapons in their possession to see them to victory.

*****

Caritas

Oz and Willow had had their turn on stage, and now it was Buffy's turn. Understandably, she was fairly nervous about the fact that she was going to sing to an audience. "I'm not sure I can do this, Xan," she confessed to Xander.

"Sure you can, Buff," he replied, giving her a quick kiss. "You don't want Faith to be able to say that she was braver than you now, do you?" he added with a crooked grin.

"Trying to manipulate my emotions like that will not work, Alexander Harris," she replied mock-sternly, which elicited an equally-fake begging-for-forgiveness response from Xander. "I'm not what you'd call confident about my singing ability, though," she added with a small sigh.

"Don't worry about it. In fact, I'm probably more nervous than you," Xander said. At Buffy's quirked eyebrow, he added, "Because I'm going last... and I still haven't decided on what I'm going to sing.

"And as for your worries about your singing ability, or any possible lack of, don't worry about that, either. I'm sure you'll sound fine," he reassured her.

"Thank you," she whispered to him, giving him a kiss in turn and heading towards the stage.

"How long do you think they're going to carry on like this?" he heard Faith ask Willow from behind him.

"Days. Weeks. Months, even," Willow replied in a tone of voice that made Xander *certain* that she was either making a face at his back or rolling her eyes. "They're in *lurve*," she added, her voice dripping with fake sugar, causing Faith to chuckle lightly, and Oz to grin suddenly. That much he knew without turning around.

Then Buffy started to sing, and suddenly Xander's complete and undivided attention was riveted on the stage. It was true that she'd probably never win a big-time recording contract, but that didn't matter. In fact, the imperfections in Buffy's singing voice seemed to make the performance more *real*, unlike the professionally edited productions of the record labels.

These musings took him through the first verse of Buffy's chosen song, and he surfaced just in time to hear...

"But I see your true colours "Shining through "I see your true colours "And that's why I love you "So don't be afraid to let them show "Your true colours "True colours are beautiful, "Like a rainbow"

Lorne tossed back the remnants of his drink and poured another with a hand that trembled slightly, although from the emotions he'd picked up rather than the alcohol. Throughout most of the song, she'd been staring squarely at Xander, singing her heart out to him, and even without his ability to pick up on destinies and emotional states, he knew that Buffy loved the young man with all her heart. The emotional overtones just made it about as obvious as a hammer-blow to the head, along the lines of:

<*LOVE*... he's always helped me, even when i tried to turn him away... why didn't i notice him sooner... would have saved a lot of pain and heartache... will he get hurt like everyone else i've loved? i've failed as a slayer once already... never again!>

The overtones of guilt at the end confused Lorne for a moment, before he remembered the Graduation Massacre, and something went 'click' in his mind. Slayers were driven by their duty to help people, and a failure on a scale that massive had to be eating at her, something that was merely underscored by the fact that she was still feeling that guilt to such an extent almost three months later.

*****

Approaching Caritas

The vehicles of the Second Inquisition had reached the small area of open ground where they would split into their groups and encircle the demon nest, so that none of the inhabitants would escape their fates.

They would be consumed in the holy fires.

*****

Caritas

It was Xander's turn to sing now, and the butterflies in his stomach seemed to have multiplied to the numbers more commonly associated with the concept of a swarm of locusts, despite Buffy's reassuring words and kiss. Then again, saying something like, "I survived, and so will you," wasn't really all *that* reassuring, come to think of it, and he knew *exactly* how bad his singing was. He'd heard himself, after all. And there was still the small problem of which song to sing, but that resolved itself when a choice practically leapt out at him from the list, alternately waving and hitting him around the head and neck with a sign that said 'Pick Me!'

<What are you worried about?> Soldier Boy muttered dryly. <*We're* the ones who have to endure the noise you call singing.>

<Thanks for the words of support,> Xander replied, equally sarcastic. <What do you do for an encore, cut my head off?>

<'Tis a far better thing that I do,' and all that. It'd be a small price to pay for peace and quiet.>

<Smart-ass.>

<You'd be astonished to find out how little that wounds me. Now get up and sing.>

<Yes, O Captain, my Captain.>

After taking a deep breath, and glancing to where his friends were sitting - Buffy blew him a kiss, Willow smiled, Oz nodded, and while Faith looked deeply uninterested, he could tell that she was wishing him luck - he launched into his chosen song. Within seconds, it was obvious that he was aiming it at one person in particular.

"And I'd give up forever to touch you "'Cause I know that you feel me somehow "You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be "And I don't want to go home right now "And all I can taste is this moment "And all I can breathe is your life "'Cause sooner or later it's over "I just don't want to miss you tonight."

Lorne stared at the young man, his eyes wide with amazement. He'd *never* encountered a mix of emotions like this before, especially combined with the destiny his singing revealed. Xander had also spent most of the song staring at one person, his love for Buffy as obvious as a magnesium flare in a darkened room, being broadcast for all who knew how to look for such things.

<*LOVE*... oh god, she's beautiful... why would she ever-... okay, shutting up now... i'd fight anything to protect her, not that she needs it, though... *guilt*... graduation was my plan, and it went wrong... my fault...>

There was a strange duality to the emotions, sort-of as if there was another personality sharing the young man's body, acting to reinforce the positive and trying to damp down the negative aspects of Xander's personality.

The song ended, and Xander returned to the group, taking a couple of mock-bows at the scattered applause which had greeted his performance. Placing his drink to one side, he made his way over to the table to give them the news.

*****

Outside Caritas

All avenues of escape were now blocked - that they knew of, the leader of the Second Inquisition told himself sternly - and final preparations were now under way. Soon, the servants of Satan would learn that there was no sanctuary for them.

*****

Caritas

"So what you're trying to say is, that although we each have destinies to fulfil - and important ones, to boot - it's as a group that we'll run into our greatest problem?"

"Well, that last bit's an assumption, but yeah, that's the gist of it."

With the singing over, the Scoobies were trying to understand what Lorne was now telling them, which had prompted Willow's question and Lorne's answer. "I guess what I'm trying to say is that although your individual destinies *are* going to be big ones - the fate of the world will hinge on decisions each of you will be forced to make - there are..." Lorne paused, trying to find a suitable word to describe to concept he was trying to get across. "Connections between you. I can't be sure of that, though."

"Is there a way that you *can* be sure?" Buffy asked.

"Yes," Lorne replied. "You sing as a group. That should be enough to discern your destiny as a group."

"I thought you were able to tell what'd lie in store for us," Xander commented.

Lorne resisted the urge to sigh. "That's true, but what I see tends to be either extremely specific or completely general. The specific ones are like trying to describe the contents a house from a brief glimpse through a keyhole, and the general ones are similar, but from an overhead photo of a city. Seeing the future by itself isn't much help -you've got to be able to *understand* it, and that's much harder."

"And if we sing as a group, you'll be able to get a better idea of our destiny as a group," Xander summed up.

"A better idea, yes," Lorne responded, "but not enough to describe it in detail."

"Worth a shot." Xander turned to the others. "What do you think?"

"Why not?" Oz remarked.

"If you think it's a good idea, Xan," Buffy said.

"I'm in," Willow stated.

Xander glanced over at Faith, who'd remained silent. "You in, Faith?"

"I dunno," Faith began uncertainly. "After all, it's not as if I'm really part of the group, and..."

"Bullshit!" Xander interrupted. "Whatever you were before, you're a part of the group now." Buffy and Oz nodded to back up this statement, and a fraction of a second later, Willow also nodded.

"Really?" Faith asked, wide-eyed. When the others nodded again, she smiled suddenly and hugged each of them in turn, whispering, "Thank you," as she did so.

"Now all we need to do is decide on a song," Xander remarked as they looked over the list of available songs. "It should be a song suitable for a group, and one that we can all agree on... here's one!" he added, pointing to a selection. "What do you guys think?"

"Whatever makes you happy, Xan," Buffy said, smiling.

"Ego much?" Willow said dryly, and Faith simply nodded.

"What about you, Oz?" Xander asked.

"Brian May's a good guitarist," Oz said with a shrug.

"I'll take that as a 'yes', then," Xander remarked with a grin. "Lucky us, we agreed on the first choice."

"Can we just get on with it?" Willow asked.

"If you insist, milady."

"Here we are, born to be kings "We are the princes of the universe "Here we belong, fighting to survive "In a war with the darkest powers"

The combined effects of the group destiny and the emotional content nearly blew Lorne off his chair. It was a *massive* destiny, although not one that was due to take place soon... and that was all he could discern. It was almost as if he was being prevented from learning anything more than that, but one thing he did find out was that one more person would join their group. But who could that person be?

He was still thinking about the possibilities when the Scoobies returned to the table. Explaining what he'd managed to learn took only a few seconds, and left nobody any the wiser. "That wasn't very helpful," Faith commented.

"Probably not," Xander agreed. "But we couldn't have known that ahead of time, could we?"

Before anyone else could speak, the door-demon lumbered over to their table. He - or she, you never knew with some types of demon - was a hulking specimen, over two metres tall and heavily built, to boot. The Scoobies looked dubious, and the soldiers' hand moved to where their weapons were concealed, but Lorne made frantic gestures. "Relax, relax! Big Guy here might look intimidating, but he's really a peaceful type. He's the bouncer, and bouncers are *supposed* to look big and nasty, so no-one gets any ideas."

"Oh," Buffy said, as the tension level went down several notches. "I guess that's a lesson in judging a book by its cover, or why not to."

Big Guy leaned down to talk to Lorne. "We got trouble, boss," he said in a surprisingly gentle voice. "There's a bunch of humans headed this way from all directions. They seem to know about this place and they're armed."

Lorne put his head in his hand. "Great," he sighed. "There's not a lot we can do about it, either."

The Scoobies exchanged glances before nodding. "Maybe there's something we can do to help?" Xander offered, causing Lorne to look at him, surprised by the offer. "We did say that we only go after the actively *hostile* demons, and no-one here fits that description, given that no-one's tried to attack us," he added before glancing at Allan and Roy. "What do you guys think?"

"I think you're right, Xander," Allan said. "Like you said, we only go after hostile types. I think we can find room in our orders to allow for a situation like this." Roy simply nodded and, getting the attention of the other soldiers, made 'gather around' gestures. Explaining the situation took only a few moments, and despite a couple of dubious looks, agreed that something should be done.

"And try not to shoot anyone," Xander put in. "Not unless you have to, anyway."

Standing just outside the door, with Buffy and Faith to either side of him, Xander was surprised by the number of people in the crowd. <Hundreds, certainly. Possibly over a thousand. This could get ugly really quick.>

<That's a possibility,> Soldier Boy suggested. <But there are ways to reduce the chances of that happening. Look confident, for starters. Display of weapons is acceptable, as long as you don't actually *aim*them at anyone without a good reason, since that's a fairly dramatic escalation. Apart from that, well, I think you'll be able to handle it.>

<Thanks.>

<But keep an eye on your friends,> Soldier Boy cautioned. <Faith, in particular, is showing bad signs.>

As he removed his MP-5 from underneath his jacket - noticing Buffy and the others doing the same from the corner of his eye - he glanced at Faith. Her normally healthy complexion was pale, her eyes were wide, there was a suggestion of sweat on her forehead, and she was trembling slightly. She'd also made no move to draw a weapon, and was whispering, "No... no, please, not this. I don't want to-"

<Shit. This isn't good, but I suppose it beats the alternative.>

<Would it be too late to say that bringing her along might not have been the best of ideas?> Soldier Boy commented wryly.

<Yes. Yes it would. And I was the one who suggested it, since I didn't expect anything like this to happen.>

<Neither did I, but she should have said something. After all, you're the only person who really knows if you're fit for active duty.>

<True, but this isn't the Regiment, and Faith was probably eager to prove herself.>

<I agree, but the question of what to do now still remains.>

That was a very good point. Luckily, an answer suggested itself pretty promptly, as the soldier on the other side of Faith - the same soldier she'd been talking to last night, Xander realised - kept sending worried glances Faith's way. Xander caught his eye and nodded, and the soldier nodded back, holstered his weapons, and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. Whirling around, Faith grabbed him in a tight hug and started sobbing. The soldier - Xander recognised him as Jim Ackens - gently led her back into the club, on the way passing Lorne who was on his way out.

"Lorne! What are you doing? This could get dangerous!" Even as Xander said this, the irony of him saying to somebody almost exactly the same sort of things that Buffy had said to him when she'd tried to keep him out of the Slaying before Graduation struck him, and he had to restrain a laugh.

"And it's not dangerous for you?" Lorne countered. "Besides, this isn't just my business - it's also my home."

"He's right, Xander," Buffy said quietly, and Xander could only agree.

Producing pen and paper from a pocket, Xander scribbled down a phone number, and handed the paper to Lorne, saying, "Ring that number, and when you get asked for an authentication code, reply with X-ray-Hotel-Zero-Four-Niner-Alpha, tell the person on the other end what's happening and ask for help. With that priority coding, help should be here in a few minutes."

Lorne accepted the paper and nodded. "Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime," he said quietly.

Xander snorted gently. "That's the last thing I plan on doing."

"True, but death is the last thing that happens to *everyone*."

Lorne turned to head back into the club, but before he could move, a loud voice called out, "See the nest of demon spawn and their dupes! Men of God, do your duty, and wipe them from the face of the earth!"

Allan sighed. "Great," he said grimly. "That's all we need: religious nuts."

"And with Molotov Cocktails, to boot," Xander agreed. "By the way, Lorne, are you 'demon spawn'?"

"That's what my mother used to call me," Lorne said cheerfully. "'My sweet little spawn,' she'd say."

"Just checking," Xander replied with a grin. "Hey Willow, does 'dupe' mean what I think it means?"

"Depends on what you think it means, Xander," Willow replied. "If you think it means something along the lines of 'stupid person,' the yes, it means what you think it means."

"Thank you for clearing that up. Oh, and am I the only one who sees the irony in us trying to stand down a mob of humans in an attempt to protect a bunch of demons?"

"No, you're not," Roy said.

"This could get ugly really quick, couldn't it?" Willow asked nervously, eyeing the crowd and the weapons that were in evidence. Pistols, rifles and shotguns mainly, backed up by fire-bombs; if the collection looked somewhat motley, they were still good enough to kill them all.

"Hopefully not, Will," Xander replied, putting as much confidence into his voice as possible. It was a testament to Willow's nervousness that he got away with it, since she knew him far too well to allow him to get away with deceptions like that. "Lorne, haven't you got a phone call to make?"

Lorne nodded and vanished back into the club. Thinking about the military forces that would soon be coming to back them up made Xander wonder where the police were. <Even if this isn't one of the better part of LA,> Xander thought, <*somebody* should have called the police.>

<Maybe they're also putting in a call for backup?> Soldier Boy suggested.

<That's a possibility,> Xander agreed, but before he could add anything else, the mob - there was no other word for it - started to surge forward. In response, Xander cycled the action of his MP-5, and everyone else followed suit with their weapons. The series of harsh *klak-kack*s caused the mob to pretty much well stop dead, since not many people were too keen on charging into the teeth of loaded automatic weapons.

"Men of God, do your duty!" the voice from earlier - and probably from near the back of the crowd, Xander thought - bellowed again. "Those of you who fall carrying out your sacred task will be seated at God's right hand in His Kingdom!"

"Says the man safely at the back," Xander said, probably a little louder than he'd intended, since the closest members of the mob gave him some strange looks. An idea occurred to him and, raising his voice, he called out, "Why don't you come forward? Or are you too cowardly?"

"I am no coward, servant of evil!"

"Then prove it! Step forward and meet me face-to-face!"

There was muttering from within the mob, and before too long, a man of average height, who was slightly pudgy and with greying hair stepped past the first row of people. To say he wasn't what Xander had been expecting would be precisely accurate, but any thought of making jokes at the man's expense died when Xander saw the man's eyes.

There was fire in them; the fire of fanaticism, and the *certainty* -not merely the knowledge - that he was doing the right thing. Xander knew there would be little chance of talking the man down, but he had to give it a try anyway. Besides, the true danger was the armed mob at his back, and hopefully, *they* wouldn't prove to be as fanatical as their leader, and it'd be possible to talk them down. Or at least stall them until help arrived.

"What do you want, servant of evil?" the man - dressed as a priest, Xander noticed - snapped.

"I was going to ask why you're doing this, but that's pretty obvious," Xander replied, deliberately keeping his tone mild in contrast to the priest's anger.

"Your words will not sway me, servant of evil!"

"Y'know, you're starting to get pretty repetitious," Xander remarked. "How about you use my name? I'm Xander Harris, and this is my girlfriend, Buffy Summers." Xander could see that his words had some effect on some of the priest's followers - they obviously recognised the names - and decided to go the whole hog. "And these are my friends, Willow Rosenberg and Daniel Osbourne."

The priest was starting to look somewhat confused now. "B-but you fight demons," he began, and all of the confusion vanished from his expression. "Or do you now serve them?"

"Not fucking likely," Xander muttered, just loud enough for the priest to hear him.

"Then what are you doing here?"

"We heard rumours about this place and decided to check them out," Willow replied. "But we heard that this place was for the non-violent types of demon, and-"

"So this *is* a demon nest!" the priest barked.

"Yes, but these demons don't hurt anyone!" Willow snapped in reply. Xander wondered why she'd be so quick to defend Lorne, but he came to a realisation pretty soon. <At no time did anyone in there try to attack us. In fact they looked pretty intimidated by us.>

<A little over an hour isn't really enough to form a concrete opinion on the subject,> Soldier boy noted, <but I think you're right. Now, how do we get out of this situation without shooting anybody?>

<We try to stall them until reinforcements arrive, which hopefully won't be too long.>

<Not the best plan I've ever heard, but I can't think of anything better, so I think we'll go with that.>

<Thank you for the vote of confidence.>

"Tell me something, padre," Xander said. "How many demons have you seen with your own eyes?" The priest started to say something, but after a few seconds, hadn't come up with anything coherent. "Would I be correct in assuming that the answer is 'none', then? And the same number of vampires?" Grudgingly, the priest nodded. "Well, not meaning to brag or anything, but I, along with my friends, have been fighting them for three years, without any help or much in the way of weaponry. Wouldn't that give me the right to say that I might know what I'm talking about then?"

The priest's lips began to frame an angry retort, but his response died unspoken as he felt the mood of the mob shift. Turning around, he saw the same thing that Xander was beginning to see. Enough of the mob's members carried some form of torch or lantern to provide a fairly decent amount of illumination for the scene.

Some of the people were looking thoughtful, and others were turning respectful expressions towards the Scooby Gang. A few people still looked like they wanted to storm Caritas and level the place, but they were in a distinct minority. And, in the distance, but getting closer, Xander could hear the roar of powerful engines over the backdrop of normal city noises, along with a couple of sirens.

<That was quick,> Xander thought. <Surely we haven't been out here all that long?>

<About five minutes. And there's a National Guard armoury nearby,> Soldier Boy pointed out. <*I* actually paid attention when we looked over the maps earlier today.>

Xander was about to make some sort of sarcastic reply, when two groups of half-a-dozen Humvees, each led by a black-and-white, pulled into view and soldiers began leaping from the vehicles, and moved to surround the mob. Weapons were in plain sight, but were very carefully *not* being pointed at anyone - yet.

"Bloody hell, Xander!" a familiar English-accented voice called out. For a moment, Xander wondered when Giles had travelled to the West Coast, but it wasn't *that* familiar English-accented voice. "Can't you go anywhere without getting into trouble?" Lieutenant Gary Wilson, of the 22nd Special Air Service Regiment, added as he stepped into the light of one of the sets of headlights now illuminating the scene. Shaking his head, he continued, "I feel sorry for poor Buffy. What's going to happen when you take her out on a date? Vampire attack?"

"Hopefully not," Xander replied, "but I wouldn't make any bets."

Gary just shook his head again in mock-sympathy. In his late twenties, and two years into a three-year posting with the SAS, Gary was well-regarded by nearly all of the soldiers under his command, who thought he was pretty much human, as opposed to some of the other officers they'd served under. Part of that was the fact that he was more than willing to share a joke under the right circumstances - like now. "It's obvious that this young hooligan doesn't have the proper amount of awe for you, Milady Summers," he said, bowing in Buffy's direction.

Buffy simply laughed and moved closer to Xander. "I don't want awe, Gary," she said. "Love will do just fine, and I *know* I've got that."

"Curses! Foiled again in my search for love - or a reasonable facsimile thereof, at least," Gary exclaimed with enough melodrama to put even the worst ham actor to shame. Allan chuckled softly, and then coughed pointedly. "My apologies, Petty Officer, I was momentarily overcome by the radiant beauty of these lovely young ladies - where's Faith?" he added, much more seriously.

"Inside," Xander replied, equally seriously. "She had... a bad reaction earlier."

"Is she all right?"

"I don't know," Xander replied with a shrug. "Once we get this sorted out, we can check."

Gary nodded, and turned to the LAPD officer accompanying him. "I believe you have some arrests to make?"

*****

The mob was taken into custody without too much trouble - the sight of automatic weapons held casually by people who looked like they knew how to use them was enough to calm any hot tempers and make those so inclined rethink the benefits or martyrdom - and the group adjourned back inside Caritas. Gary, of course, was somewhat amazed by the sights he was seeing. "This is pretty astonishing," he murmured, casting his gaze over the various types of demon, and seeing that none of them were even the slightest bit inclined to attack him. In fact, most of them looked like they were worrying about whether *he* was going to attack *them*.

When he saw Faith, however, his attention immediately centred on her. She was sitting hunched-over at a table, her head in her hands. Judging by the way her shoulders were shaking, she was still sobbing, and Jim was sitting next to her, rubbing her back and speaking softly to her. They couldn't hear what he was saying to her, but she was obviously listening, since she would either nod or shake her head at various times. As they drew closer, Faith raised her head to see who it was, and they could see the tear-tracks running down her face. "I'm sorry," she said softly.

"What for, Faith?" Xander said as everyone found seats.

"For screwing up like that," she replied. "I shouldn't have come along."

"Hey, you couldn't have known this was going to happen," Buffy said gently.

"Still..." Faith paused for a moment. "Maybe I'm... not ready for this sort of thing. I shouldn't have tried to prove that I was."

Xander didn't know what to say. He recognised that it had taken great courage for Faith to be that honest - even if he thought she was, perhaps, being a little harsh on herself - but finding words to that effect was hard. Leaning across the table, he took one of her hands in a gentle yet firm grip and said, "Faith, you're the only one who really knows what's going through your mind right now, but can I say that I'm proud of you for recognising the difficulties you were going through in time to remove yourself from a dangerous situation in which you might lose control of your responses? You made the right choice, Faith," he continued when she looked sharply in his direction, obviously surprised, "and sitting here berating yourself after the fact helps no-one."

Buffy also reached across the table and grasped Faith's other hand. "You did well out there, and don't try to tell yourself otherwise." Giving her hand a gentle squeeze, Buffy continued, "Perhaps we should discuss this tomorrow over lattes and chocolate? I'd say that a request for a day off might be looked upon favourably, and if not," Buffy shrugged, "training doesn't last *all* day."

"Count me in, too," Willow said suddenly. "It's been too long since I did something like that."

Xander knew *exactly* what was going to happen tomorrow. "Girl talk?" he asked Oz.

"Girl talk," Oz replied with a nod.

"I guess we'll have to find other ways to occupy ourselves tomorrow, then, while we get talked about." He grinned suddenly, and glanced at Jim. "And I don't think we'll be the only ones being talked about either, Oz," he added, causing the young soldier's expression to go through several interesting changes. "Cheer up, Jim! Being talked about by women *isn't* a fate worse than death, after all, even if some of the things they'll end up talking about might be just a *little* bit embarrassing."

TBC…