CPA

Author: Norgco <norgco[at]yahoo.com>

Summary: The accountant sent to audit the Magic Box is unexpectedly familiar.

Rating: pg

Couples: Anya/Faith/Xander - yes, I think they need each other.

Giles/English Coven - mentioned

Disclaimer: I do not own any of this.

Feedback: Yes.

Author’s note: 1/ This is a reposting of an old story because

a) Stephen Baxter pointed out that the file in the files part of xanderzone seemed empty.

b)I want it on the list story page, which is so much better organised and up to date than mine –thanks grandt,

c) I have been thinking about this for a while.

2/For anyone who hasn’t seen it before, this was written between season 6 and season 7, so, it AU from that point.

3/I happen to consider the things Xander was being shown to be good at at this stage in the series to be actually way more valuable than gaining a superpower would be. So I tend to write him being valued for them, that’s not a criticism of SuperXander stories, but I see him as making a unique contribution, even if it looks Too mundane to bloody Joss Whedon.


Chapter 1

The Magic Box, 1.30 pm, Saturday morning

The Magic Box was its relatively quiet self that afternoon, nothing major was happening except for Anya's anxiety about the arrival of the new auditor. Repairs to the shop required passing an audit of the books, to ensure that there was actually the cash flow needed to repay the loan. Xander had done enough out of his own pocked so that they could have a 'Post earthquake Sale' but without the bank loan they were unable to do more. So the vengeance demon waited for the only thing more terrifying than a Fyoral demon on LSD, the auditor.

There was a tinkle as the door opened, and a young woman in a dark outfit that must have cost more than the shop made in a month walked in with a laptop carry bag over her shoulder and a briefcase in the other. At first no one recognized her, clearly she was the accountant they were expecting, and therefore Anya and Giles problem. She walked over to the desk and introduced herself, that was the real start.

"Hello Anyanka, Patron Demon of Scorned Women, I am Faith Wilkins, from Harvey, Norman, and Bates Sunnydale office."

Silence fell over the group, for different reasons depending on the individual. Anya and Giles were stunned that an accounting firm would have someone who recognized a major demon on sight, and still insisted on carrying on normal business anyway. The formal mode of address made Buffy and the others basically ignore the statement, and then the name of the woman in the suit slammed home into Buffy's paranoid brain.

"FAITH!" and with that everyone looked around, yes, it was the dark slayer. She had calm, totally business expression, and the reason no one had recognized her was clear. In her carefully tailored clothes and with that expression, she was unrecognisable. The relaxed demeanour remained even as the Blonde slayer leaped over the table and grabbed a sword. When the sword swung up the ex-con did nothing much, simply looked the elder Summers woman in the eye and smiled. "Give me one reason not to kill you now."

"Harvey, Norman and Bates take a dim view of attacks upon their employees Buffy, they assume it means the attacker has something to hide somewhere." The post EnronWorldcometc shakeout of the industry had destroyed most of the previous famous firms, allowing the newcomers to take their place. It was actually a new name for an old firm, with some very old-fashioned values. How the dark slayer had been recruited in Prison to join the firm was an interesting tales she had been hoping to live long enough to discuss with them. "If you thought Angelus was dangerous Buffy, wait till the IRS comes after you. You may be able to hide the remains of my corpse from the police, but I have ALREADY found some things in your last tax return you DON'T want them to look closely at."

"How, ah, I mean, you're an accountant Faith, how did this happen and why were we not informed you were even out of prison?" Giles stammered out, Faith had dropped out of school with quite poor marks, how did she end up as a qualified accountant only a few years later and straight out of prison? Surely the Watchers Council was keeping track of 'the Dark Slayer (TM)', why had they not informed him of her return to Sunnydale, at the very least. "Why did you not inform me you were in town, and who is your Watcher?"

"To answer you in reverse order of question, I insisted on having Wesley back as my Watcher, I assumed the Council had already told you, I assumed the council would tell you, and I was recruited by a Karnak demon that was working as a prison guard in my first week in prison. They tested me and it turns out I'm in the top 1% of the population, IQ of 180." Once Faith had finally accepted that her school problems had been the result of her making intellectual leaps her teachers couldn't follow, rather then that she was stupid, as they had always told her, everything had changed. The demon had been sent to work in the prison by her clan specifically to look for salvageable individuals, people with untapped potential being wasted. She had thrived under a high pressure but encouraging learning environment, getting her GED and a Degree in Accounting in the time some people would have needed for just the High School work. And then there were the speech and deportment lessons, what fun...

"Karnak demons, I thought they were extinct for centuries?" Giles responded, in a calm tone that was all that kept Buffy from making short, chopping motions through Faiths body with the Claymore sword in her hands. Restraining her was important, if the dark haired slayer was telling the truth then turning her into minced Faith would be more trouble than they wanted. "And why would they recruit you as an accountant, of all things, they were mercenary demons, if very honour obsessed?"

"The industrial revolution."

"Huh?" From Buffy, at her intellectual limit under the stressful circumstances.

"Karnak demons aren't extinct, they were mercenaries for the money, and the industrial revolution showed them that there was more money to be made in business." Hence the Watchers council had lost track of them, being English Upper Class Twits with the upper class twit contempt for anyone 'in trade'. Then, for the benefit of the other Scoobies she explained. "Before then you could only get rich by inheriting or stealing from whoever had inherited it, and as mercenaries they were entitled to loot peoples treasures. Then they realized the money to be made in a suit was bigger than with a gun, so they do this now. "

"Demonic accountants, well that explains a lot." Xander finally remarked, watching the new version of Faith, drawn to her. Anya had said she was not coming back to him, had told him she would never forgive him and to get 'a new orgasm friend'. Faith had noticed the look, and smiled back. "The Council has no problems with your working for demons, AGAIN?"

"My slaying has the full support of the Karnak Elders, honour demands we protect a society we benefit from."

"Not many businessmen seem to think like that." Willow commented, still the daughter of left wing academics.

"Honour is its own reward." Faith said icily. She was taking out her Laptop, and examining the General Ledger of the Magic Box, with the conversation taking up less and less of her mind. The business's books were, quaintly in this day and age, still in actual books, with red leather covers. She approved, the neat, clearly laid out entries showed pride and care, not the incomprehensible mess she had encountered when doing the books at Willie's bar. "Can we discuss this later, I have work to do?"

The Magic Box, later that night.

Faith had finished for the day, the computer now contained a copy of the accounts and she could go over them at her leisure. Everything certainly looked in order, Anyanka really was as competent a business manager as she thought she was, perhaps better. And clearly attracted to the dark slayer, and having clearly noticed how her ex-fiancé was attracted to Faith.

"So, how about we go relax?" Xander announced. He was standing near the counter, just back from patrol with Buffy, since Faith was apparently still out of condition from her prison time, though improving rapidly due to Wesley and a personal trainer supplied by the firm. Anya looked at him with a smile he had not seen from her in a long time.

"Yes, how about the three of us go back to my place for sex?" The vengeance demon asked.

"The three of us, I thought you and Xander were, ah..." Faith had heard more about the slayerettes then they had about her, she knew of the break-up.

"We never did a threesome, no, and looking back on it that was obviously the problem." Anya was totally serious now; sex and business were serious topics to her. "And some romantic, lesbian sex and a serious stud like Xander to use till you both collapse from exhaustion is what a slayer needs like you needs Faith, I mean, why else would Buffy keep screwing Vampires? Lets go."

Giles watched as the trio walked out, Anya clearly in charge, Faith and Xander following rapidly. Buffy was not hear to have heard the comment on 'what a slayer really needs', though Anya being Anya she would learn soon enough. Xander was in for an exhausting evening, if his own experiences with the Coven who had given him the powers used to fight Darth Willow was any guide. They had insisted on a price for their help, not that he or any sane man would mind, and he felt the teleportation spell kick in, as they called him for his 'payment.'

*****

Casa Summers, the large bedroom, Sunday morning, 9.15am

Faith woke up in with the warmth of two bodies. She had one arm draped over Anya, just under her breasts, and the other over Xander. It had been an amazing night, and the vengeance demon had been right, the combination of making love to a woman and using a stud for the orgasms was exactly what she had needed. The other woman was kind, knowledgeable and fun, Xander did the he-man pleasure machine thing well. Now to make sure he understood she thought of him as more than that without triggering the jealousy of Anyanka, who didn't seem to have worked out exactly whether she wanted Xander as a lover or a corpse.

The Slayer looked up at the door as it opened, to see Buffy enter the bedroom. The blonde smiled at her without saying anything, and placed three coffees and some doughnuts on the bedside table. A space was there for it; apparently this was a stable routine. The ex con was intrigued, little miss innocent was taking it as a routine to enter the bedroom of her friends and leave coffee to wake the lovers up.

"Hi Buffster, have a good night?" the dark haired man in the bed said, as he got up and walked around the bed to get his coffee. Ok, so this was getting surreal, Xander walked COMPLETELY NAKED around the room without a hint of embarrassment from himself or little miss blonde perfection? "An, Honey, wake up, Buffy brought coffee."

Anyanka sat up, letting the covers drop and exposing her own and Faiths bodies for all to see. All right, so she had nothing to hide from the couple, but Buffy had certainly never seen her breasts before. Seeing them she was though, and then the rest of her as the other woman in the bed got out and pushed the covers to the bottom of the bed. It was a warm morning, so it probably was just the absent minded routine it seemed to be. But how had this become routine?

Summers house, Breakfast table, later that day

Sitting a breakfast with the Scooby gang was a bizarre experience for Faith, as the whole morning had been so far. Part of the strangeness was the touches of normal suburban life added to the mix. Everyone but Giles seemed to sleep in the house, and only Dawn was doing it alone. Or presumably Buffy's under age sister slept alone, she was sleeping over at her friend Stacey's place for the weekend, and judging from the routine here they might as easily be staging orgies as having a chaste, best friend staying over time of it. The dark slayer was not going to ask, until she understood the situation better.

"More coffee anyone?" Willow asked, then when no one else wanted any she poured the last from the eight-cup coffee maker for herself. Sitting down between Buffy and Xander, she hugged both, apparently for comfort, before resuming breakfast. Her recovery from the death of Tara was not, and probably never would be, complete, and the need for comfort and the reassuring warmth of others was a constant with her. Faith was guessing about some of this, but knew the outline from what had been said so far.

After the Warren/end of the world thing the red head had had her powers removed, leaving her a grieving, guilt stricken wreck. Xander had led the effort to bring her back into the world, with the others becoming involved as their friend swung from recluse to party girl and back again. Willow had, when Faith had gently asked about that time, commented, 'either I was huddled in the corner crying or I was on all fours sucking and fucking. I did the whole football team one night and three cheerleaders the next, I don't even remember what drugs I was doing most of the time.'

So now the five of them were sitting around the table, this very emotionally scarred group, with Faith actually the sanest and most sober citizen of the group. If it had not been so tragic the dark slayer would have laughed. The human cost of their struggle against the darkness was so high, and it was all here in this room to see. Willow, the shy computer geek when Buffy arrived, was now going cold turkey from: Alcohol, Cocaine, Ecstasy, Magic, and a habit of seducing strangers be they alone, couples, or in large groups. She could now not sleep without someone to hold, any more than she could really relax without it. So the only friend she had who was immune to her, Buffy, shared her bed every night.

Buffy was recovering from her return from heaven, and probably always would be. Her own degrading sexual obsession had been hidden, rather than totally public, but no less a self-destructive drive to oblivion for all that. She was learning to enjoy life again, slowly, the way the red head was learning to enjoy not being stoned most of the time. The burden of all the routine financial and job related stuff was a constant drain on her spirits, well; Faith had very good news on that front anyway.

Xander, whose life seemed the most successful on purely economic grounds, was barely coping with his guilt and the strain of holding everyone else up. While his career in construction went from strength to strength - the company he worked for wanted him to be foreman of a small project when the current one finished - the strain of getting his oldest friend back to something resembling sanity had nearly killed him. And the guilt he felt at failing to stop Warren from killing Tara and starting the nightmare never really left him, like the pain of having hurt Anya so badly by not marrying her. And letting Willow seduce him, he should never have allowed that, even if it was the start of her recovery process.

Anya was troubled too, and in ways none of the others could fully understand, being human. As Anyanka, the demon, she was avenger of scorned women, and yet she was in love with a man and could not decide if he should be tortured to death or forgiven. Willow had introduced her to the joy of woman/woman sex, why couldn't she limit herself to that, and should she feel guilty about it the way her other friends did about having orgasms with the red head. The events of last night did not help, she had wanted Faith for sex and Xander was SO damn good at that, and useful in ensuring the offer was not rejected. And the fact that she had responded to her pain by having sex with Spike, exactly the way so many men she had wreaked vengeance upon had, did not make her emotional state any clearer.

"Will everyone be meeting at the Magic Box later?" Faith asked, trying to decide whether to drop her bombshell now, and tell Giles separately or not. But Giles and Dawn were part of it too, it affected their futures as much as the others.

"Not planning to, why, is something terrible happening we need the whole gang for?" Buffy responded, sounding suspicious.

"Nothing bad, something very good actually, but I want to tell everyone at once, and that includes Dawn and Giles." It seemed that could be arranged, and, by the magic to the telephone, it was.

The Magic Box, 5.30pm Sunday night

At times Willow wondered if there was anyone in Sunnydale she had not had sex with. She actually listed the only people she knew for a fact she hadn't at times, just to keep track of things. There was Giles of course, and Buffy, the most totally heterosexual woman she knew. Dawn, she had never had Dawn, never had the chance, and Faith had been in prison. Some of the other women in the town were bound to be as straight as Buffy, though an amazing number had been willing to at least experiment for one night. And the gay men of course, but anyone else...

"Willow, Will, speak to me, can you hear me, testing one, two, three..." Xander was calling the meeting into order, Giles having arrived in a shower of light, to complete the group. Faith had gone back to her apartment for something, and now was passing some official looking papers around the desk. His arrived, it was on heavy, embossed letter headed paper, and in thick legal speak.

"As you can see from the documents each of you now has before you, the Karnak Elders have decided to support the Vampire Slayers, and their team, financially. The money mentioned is already in your bank accounts, or new Swiss accounts described in the annex." There was silence at the table, both at the idea of demons paying the Slayers to Slay demons, and the sheer amounts of money involved. To someone who had been as poor as Faith had been, and Buffy and Dawn now were, the figures involved looked like enough to fund a small war. Which, of course, is exactly what they were. "The Scooby gang have, after all, prevented the loss of all the lives, investments, and future earning power, of the entire Karnak Species several times. Supporting that activity amounts to insurance, which is a normal business cost, and given the total investment protected the figures you see for back payment are conservative."

The figures were astonishing, both for their size and neatly itemized nature. Each Scoob was given a separate figure, itemized according to apocalypse averted and estimated monthly hours devoted to research, patrol and recovering from injuries. Loss of income due to neglect of potential money making activities and studies, etc. was there too. Proposed investment and tax minimization measures were discussed, with a note that the Legal, Accounting and Investment arms of the Karnak conglomerate were available to them for a purely nominal fee, which was of course tax deductible.

"Exactly what do they want me to do to earn all this?" Xander asked. He was having trouble with the idea that there was that much money in the world, let alone his bank account.

"Xman, you've ALREADY earned it. You have helped saved the world repeatedly, you are not being asked to do anything more, although you will be made an offer to continue doing so." Faith had had years to come to grips with the fact that there were wealthy demons that cared more about her than the Watchers Council ever had. She had forgotten how astonished she had been first faced with the idea.

"What has the Watchers Council had to say about all this?" From Giles, who was clearly expecting trouble from his nominal superiors. Willow snuggled up closer to Faith, had not stopped touching her the whole time, even while daydreaming. He would worry about it later, if necessary. Both women need someone permanent, perhaps his troubled, red headed daughter could find comfort with the only individual here as smart as she.

"The Watchers Council has been offered nothing, they are wealthy and yet let the Slayers live in poverty, they are safe and yet insist on a test on the Slayers eighteenth birthday that kills most of them, dismissing the dead as 'unworthy'." The dark slayer was angry now, and she dropped out of the rehearsed speech and her carefully trained tones to finish. "Fuck the Council, if they want to help, great, but if they bother us may God have mercy on them, because they can expect none from our law firm"

"Lets find a teller machine, I want to see that this is really in my bank account." Anya said, having read the document carefully, there should be $50,000 in there, the upper limit of what the bank would allow in one account. Her numbered Swiss account would have the rest. Not a lot compared to Buffy or Xander, who had been involved longer, but still seven figures in hard currency. "Buffy, why don't we go see if you can quit Doublemeat Palace?"

*****

Things to do with a fortune when you have been dead

The first thing Buffy did after discovering that yes, she was a multi millionaire, was to quit working for Double Meat Palace. Faith was worried about the mental stability of all the Scoobies, and if the blonde slayer had kept that job she would have had the men in the white coats throw a butterfly net over her. Anyanka took up the Elders offer to acquire a degree in finance, since while her business skills were respectable; investment management seemed her real area of interest.

Xander did not immediately quit his job, not as puzzling a decision as it might seem. Construction had allowed him to find a real skill of his own; something useful he had a real talent for. Sensibly he allowed Anya to invest most of his money, bought a house and a van, and started thinking about his own business. Not that he needed the money, but he needed to develop the first real creative skill any of the Harris males had shown for generations.

Willow insisted on paying out the Summers family back debts, and the repair cost of the Magic Box. Anya was still considering if she should run it part time during her degree, to develop practical business skills, but the red head felt better about not sticking the demon with the repair costs of the damage she had caused. Dawn invested her money, and planned a life where she never had to worry about being able to afford anything.

Giles paid off various bills, and set up funds to pay his various nephew and nieces university education's. He had never actually been poor; the Magic Box had been to keep occupied rather than from a need for the cash income, and he was thinking of asking Anya if he could go back to running it when she was studying.

Faith had already received a lump sum, and in any case had a high paying job and a lot of things paid for by the company, with a wardrobe allowance to pay for 'suitable' clothing, and a company car. She was proud of the car, both of what it actually could do as transportation and the simple fact that she had a skill that people valued that did not involve killing, torturing or fucking.

Unlike the Scoobies, her employers were aware she had paid the bills during her pre-Mayor slaying by working in 'A Touch of Class', Sunnydales best brothel. One 12 hour shift a week paid all bills and had allowed her to put money in the bank, with the aim of moving into her own place. The Karnak are not human, and, do not understand human morals and prejudices. They knew enough to quietly explain, very early in the relationship, that they knew and it was not an issue with them, she did not have to fear them finding out.

However she had worked out during the conversation, and confirmed after, that they did not see what the problem was, they were just humouring a strange human prejudice. Prostitutes were professionals providing a service, and the clan judged them like any other professional. Did she provide the service paid for, was she skilled at the tasks required, did she overcharge or in any way cheat her customers? That human society failed to show good sex workers the same respect as good lawyers or electricians was a puzzle to them, but they quietly found and destroyed all record of Faiths former employment, to avoid any future unpleasantness.

The Magic Box, Tuesday 7pm

"So, Faith, what's the company car like?" Xander was sitting at the table with a cup of coffee, what Anya insisted was the best coffee in Sunnydale and he was inclined to agree. The repairs would include an expansion, and an upper story with a research room. But an espresso machine, Giles personal selection of tea's and twice daily doughnut and pastry deliveries were already on line. Xander had bought a doughnut and pastry franchise, as a joke on his years of delivery runs for the group. "Come on, let's all go see what Faith drives."

In truth they were all interested, but for various reasons had not seen her pride and joy. They knew she was proud of her car, that it was supplied under a 'whatever makes the professional demon killer happy while she is around us demons' basis, and were curious about it. Xander was expecting a Ferrari, Giles an Aston Martin, Buffy a Mercedes like the one she had ordered. The car they actually saw, however stunned them into complete silence for a time. Finally Buffy spoke.

Outside the Magic Box, 7.12 pm

"A White Volvo." They were all staring with their mouths hanging open, which Faith mistakenly took for awe at her brilliant choice. The Swedish safety icon sat in front of the shop, sparkling in the street light, its chrome roof rack shining. It was set up for towing, and there was a half tennis ball stuck over the ball of the tow bar. "With all the automotive choice in the world, you bought a Volvo set up to tow a trailer."

"Isn't she great?" The dark haired slayer ran her hand over the side of the car, and then carefully polished off the fingerprints with a cloth from her carry bag. "All the Elders drive them, but mine is the only one you can tow a boat with. I love fishing."

That the leaders of one of the most powerful demonic clans in existence all drove one of the most boring, but safe, cars in the world, seemed somehow fitting in light of the insanity of life on the hellmouth. Giles was deeply concerned that Faith, former Psycho Slut Evil Bitch, was now the most conservative and sensible of his charges. This was the car he would have bought, if there was no Ripper floating in the back of his mind to leap out and strangle him at the very idea. The expensive fishing gear in the back added to the effect.

Xander was thinking that perhaps the rehabilitation idea had been carried too far, but then he remembered the dark slayers attempt to strangle him when he offered to help her, and shut down the thought. From her performance in bed since returning he was aware some of the old Faith was around but...actually her performance in bed was considerably better than it had been when she took his virginity. Certainly she had Anya screaming loud enough to justify the soundproofing of the bedrooms Willow was paying for.

Willow herself was standing between Faith and Xander, where she could feel them next to her without looking like she was feeling them up. Which she did not do, in public, any more. Or in private any less, for that matter. She was rebuilding some of her confidence, but so much of that confidence had been from Tara, and she needed the touch, the personal contact. The car was an interesting personal statement of where Faith was personally now, like the fact that she insisted on a date with the red head before they got into the group sex and bondage. Or that Faith was happy enough for Willow to be the Top in their games.

"Well Buffy, lets go kill things." With that the accountant walked off into the dark, a bag slung over her shoulder, the Blonde slayer and Xander running to catch up. Exactly what the ex con had in the bag was a mystery, she had only said it was an experiment from the security division. That had them a little nervous, but Faith had assured them it probably would not blow up and kill them all, honestly. "Beautiful night for a fight, isn't it?"

A Sunnydale Graveyard 7.46pm

Ratua the destroyer had set up what everyone of his followers thought was a really good ambush. With scouts posted around the perimeter, it did not matter what direction the slayers came from, he would be informed and the bait would scream, bringing them running into his trap. With a dozen assorted demons and as many vampires it would work without a problem. Victory was assured. He had heard the old truism 'no battle plan survives contact with the enemy', but thought he had covered all contingencies.

A scream in the distance made Buffy turn, and Xander started running to the sound, Faith ran too, but she brought out the weapon as she ran, in a smooth practised motion. The empty canvas bag fell onto the grass, and she was now holding one of the most dangerous close quarters weapons available.

Most pump or semi automatic shotguns hold 5 to 8 rounds. The 12-gauge semi-auto she was holding was South Korean, and had a 30 round drum magazine, with two more loaded mags in the pack on the dark slayers back. It had been decided that any situation that could not be handled by 90 rounds could at least be brought under control by them, people with arms, legs or heads missing being fairly easily controlled. She still had stakes for hand to hand, of course.

A group of Fyoral demons with swords ran out of the bushes to her right, and the dark slayer fired a double tap at both. Few people in the world could have fired a dozen rounds while running at top speed and without missing, but she was a Slayer, and, as tests showed, she could do it in a real situation.

The ammunition was the special part; the shotgun itself had been around for years. Double tapping, or firing two closely spaced shots at the same target, was important because of the two different types of cartridge. One was a armour piercing High Explosive sabot slug, and the second incendiary shot. Two rounds would therefore punch a LARGE whole in the toughest demon, or incinerate a vampire. Or blow the hole and then cremate the remains. Or explode in the breach and turn whoever was holding it into cat mince. So far it seemed to work.

With the right hand side of his ambush gone, Ratua decide to withdraw, leaving the remainder of his force to be rear guard. A simple plan, ignoring the fact that these were mercenaries, who had no loyalty to anything but money and certainly were not going to die for him unnecessarily. So they tried to run too, and the dark slayer simply used them for target practice. Ratua got the furthest, she had to sprint to catch him, his head disappeared in a spray of blood and bone. The test had been successful.

"So, Faith, can I have one, can I, huh, please, pretty please, huh, promise to be your bestest friend?" Xander was smiling, and in no small awe of the new ammo. He was a little dubious about what would happen if they had to use the guns without enough training to avoid 'friendly fire', or 'collateral damage.' Soldier was still part of him, and knew the reality of those words in terms of dead allies and dead innocent bystanders respectively. Still it worked and worked well, with proper training it would allow anyone at all to fight the forces of darkness with a better life expectancy than the slayers had ever had.

The Magic Box, Wednesday at 5pm

"Giles, the ammunition is exactly what we need, its amazing. It won't kill a human any deader than an M16 round will, but it kills vampires and Fyoral demons just fine." Xander was inspired, at last there was something that allowed humans to just shoot the things that go bump in the night, instead of having to fight hand to hand against things faster, stronger and tougher. "We could go after the bastards with any reasonably well trained soldiers, instead of needing dumping the weight of the world some 15 year old girl."

The older man was staring into the distance, obviously mentally a million miles away. At first the carpenter was insulted, and then he noticed that his father figure was crying. Slowly it built up until the former librarian was wracked with tears, his whole body shaking and he sank onto the chair. Then he looked up at the younger man, and spoke.

"How many slayers have died because the Council, in their INFINITE BLOODY WISDOM, deemed it unnecessary to research modern weapons? How many Xander, we could have had this decades ago, at least." The mix of anger and hope in his face was terrible to see. "And now a group of DEMONS, bloody KARNAK DEMONS who are supposed to be extinct mercenaries, invent this, because they say 'its only honourable to give those whole defend you appropriate tools'. And because they think its stupid to risk the end of the world just to keep traditional weapons."

"Giles, we can put out a contract on the Watchers Council later. Buffy and Faith could die of old age Giles, we all might."

*****

Various beds, Casa Summers, Thursday night.

Buffy Summers was sleeping alone for the first time in a while. That did not bother her as such, since she is a, well, a heterosexual woman in a building with no other except her sister, and she had been sleeping with Willow Rosenburg, her aggressively bisexual best friend. No, what worried her was the possibility that her friend might slide back into her post-Tara/attempted apocalypse fuck anything human habit.

Willow, on the other hand, was on top of the world. She had finally gotten Faith to sleep, through the simple expedient of exhausting her sexually. The Dark Slayer/Accountant to the Demonic world, was superhuman in many ways, but lacked the red heads recent intense experience, like an Olympic athlete who takes a year off to drink beer and eat pizza.

Admittedly very few people had the ex-Wicca's experience, at least in Sunnydale. Regulars at the LA swingers clubs she had been to were another matter. Faith, however, had been in prison, where open orgying is discouraged, and had not been partying much in Sunnydale before meeting up with the Scoobies again. She stroked the dark hair gently, and snuggled up the the other woman, her breasts pressed against the slayers back and her right arm draped over and cupping a breast. She was asleep almost instantly.

Anya and Xander were together, in Xanders bed.

The situation had not changed noticeably since the threesome on the night of Faiths return meeting at the Magic Box. Anya charted a meandering course between wanting Xander back as the centre of her life, and never wanting to see him again. She, at least, had found a great comfort and relief at her solution to this problem, which was basically to take charge of Xander and his orgasm generating activities. Faith had shared their bed every night, and she was working on Buffy. Willow, when propositioned, had been smilingly enthusiastic about 'getting some pork' from Xander, then, giggling at her idea of a Jewish joke, thanked the vengeance demon for her kind offer. Both women knew he had the stamina to deal with any number of women, courtesy of a dangerously irresponsible 'Birthday present' to Anya during Willows magic addict phase.

Her former Fiancé's protests that the blonde was straight as an arrow, and, aside from a habit of having passionate involvement's with mass murderers seemed to have tame tastes, were ignored. She countered that she could at least get the Slayer some 'action' with Xander, and then work up through a little spanking and into girl/girl action from there. Once Buffy tried it there would be no going back. "How can anyone NOT want to have sex with women Xander, answer me that?"

The only fully employed Harris did not bother to answer the question. He understood what she meant, while disagreeing with the central theme. Buffy seemed to have no desire for females, Vampires and genetically enhanced soldier boys named Finn yes, but not women. Also he was enjoying his status as Anya's one-man stud farm too much to risk an argument. The demon's plans to get a much bigger bed made, to sleep at least four, with mirrors on the roof and wall and loops for handcuffs etc. at strategic points, was also a powerful inducement to not argue very hard. Life was definitely improving.

Dawn summers sleeping arrangements will not be discussed here, since she did not sleep in the house much, and not much younger than her sister was when she removed Angel's soul. She had her implanted memories of that time, and was determined to avoid turning her would be first lover into a psychopathic megalomaniac with an obsession with ending the world, at least until she had seen some more of it. Though as far as she knew all alternatives were human, she still wanted to be careful.

The Magic Box, Friday Night

"And what are you planning for the rest of the evening?" Rupert Giles asked, as he cleaned his shotgun and returned it to the gun safe in the floor. Sunnydale Police had learned about the new weapons the night of the second field test, when vampires had staged an elaborate ambush on a patrol car. They had gotten the first car to call for help, and then were in the process of draining three carloads of backup when the group had rescued them. Any complaints were quietly hushed up, in exchange for an alliance, of sorts. "I must say I am enjoying the novelty of getting an early nights sleep occasionally now."

"Well Faith, Willow and I will be doing a daisy chain while Xander fucks Buffy up the..."

"Anya, you do that just to make him turn red like that, don't you?" Dawn said. After all this time it had to be deliberate, surely.

"Do what?" The demon asked, genuinely puzzled. "I'm just answering the question. It's not like he doesn't know what a daisy chain is, I explained it to Faith this afternoon while I sold that nice old Mrs Greerson her candles."

"Yes Anya, and the Oxygen revived her without need for cardiac massage, fortunately." The older man of the group vividly remembered the scene, with the explanation of the practical details of each woman having oral sex with two others being matched by the growing purple colour in the customers face. The Slayer had asked 'what are we doing tonight?' from the training room, and the explanation was loud enough to be heard in there, and therefore by everyone in the shop and some in the street. "I thought it was very good of her NOT TO SUE US!"

The red headed once again hacker watched the whole discussion with an amused half smile. She was seeing the world improve, for the first time in a long time.

Faith was showing quite a romantic streak, with flowers and even some poetry. Her first group sex in ages was on for tonight, and the woman she was falling for seemed to really understand that, to Willow, it was just a fun social activity for adults. Buffy had a real problem with that, with comments about how could she expect Faith to watch her make love to someone else, she feared it was a retreat to drugslut girl That to a seasoned orgy goer making love and having sex are worlds apart, never to be confused activities just failed to sink in with the blonde slayer. The rest of the group seemed to have the two in their 'proper' compartments, though.

The only thing that made her uncomfortable about tonight was Xander. She still had nightmares about what could have gone wrong with the 'get it up when you want, for as long as you want' spell. The carpenter himself had managed to avoid murdering her when he found out, since it all was working as hoped. The risk she had so casually taken was what scared her. She hugged Faith closer drawing in the scent of freshly showered slayer, and thus had her had right next to the mobile when it rang.

"Sergeant Mendez, yes, I'll ask her...Buffy are you still ok to run your training exercise tomorrow?" The two slayers looked at each other, Buffy and Giles would actually be running things, but the cops were still getting used to the idea of getting active help from the slayer rather than covering up everything and sentencing anyone who talked to the night shift suicide mission. With Major Wilkins gone his cronies were gradually being weeded out of the force, but changing the institutional mindset was a slow task. "Yes, we will be there at 0900 hours sharp, that's ok, thanks."

With that the group left, piling into various cars for the drive to their home. Dawn had a bedroom in the extension added by Xander's construction company, or rather the one he worked for, since he did not have his own YET. It was far enough from the rest that she could ignore the sound effects from the other bedrooms, the soundproofing not being added yet.

Buffy had seriously freaked when she pointed out the need to proof her room as well, but it would be worse to have to specifically order it when she was planning to lose her virginity. Everyone else went into the main bedroom, ready for the night's festivities.

Well most of them were ready. The elder Summers Girl was distinctly uncomfortable, if also aroused and determined to join in what was very obviously the new Scooby gang activity. Too much pain had been caused over the last few years by the various members losing contact with each other, so she was determined to be a part of it. There were limits, of course, specifically no Buffy/woman stuff and if Giles was even THOUGHT of as a member she would never speak to them again. Willow and Faith were holding hands as they walked up the stairs, whispered comments and smiles becoming part of their everyday pattern.

Xander and Anya were more into groping, but even that would have been normal if not for the two couples encouraging each other, and including Buffy in all of it. It promised to be quite a night.

*****

Harvey, Norman and Bates, Sunnydale Branch, Managers Office.

The Accounting world is somewhat conservative, and the accounting firm of Harvey, Norman and Bates is no different. However, it is different in the respect that it is a property of the Karnak demon race, and the old fashioned virtues are those of mercenary demons who found a better way of making a living. So where many other firms in the industry would have taken a very dim - indeed career killing - view of Faith's living arrangements, they simply saw the sort of household common enough in their own past.

Five adult women living with one man, four of the women and the man involved sexually. Quite normal in a warrior culture, with its high male death rates, as was the romantic links between several of the women.

The need to deal with reality rather than hide from it was a central feature of the Karnak outlook, and various realities that humans preferred to hide from, and therefore stigmatise, are accepted as inevitable cause and effect. So the fact that Willow Rosenburg had responded to the loss of her beloved with grief, rage, violence and eventually sex and drugs was felt to be tragic, but common enough under the circumstances. The new reality resulting from such behaviour must now also be dealt with. Hence the current conversation.

"Logic, Mr Harris, dictates that actions have consequences, and, therefore, if you perform an action you must accept the predictable consequences." Xander was looking at the dark slayers boss, in his true form, slightly amazed that something that looked so much like Chewbacca reminded him so uncannily of Mr Spock, or possibly Tuvok. Giles had commented on recently being repeatedly drawn into discussions, in Ancient Greek, on Hellenistic Philosophy. The experience had left him dazed, if only by the discovery that not only did these fearsome creatures have as good a grasp of these philosophical debates as any of his Oxford lecturers, they had carefully cultivated Athenian accents. The carpenter was feeling equally overwhelmed, in this case expecting Captain Kirk to beam in for his science officers analysis of something. "You have shown an admirable sense of honour and concern for your friends, are you now willing to accept the male parents duties as well?"

The question did not hit him immediately. The image of Chewbacca of Vulcan in front of him was still being processed, so what was actually being said took a little longer to process. Then the meaning of the words hit him.

"I'm going to be a father? Faith's pregnant?" Excitement, fear, joy, panic, and wonder all warred within him.

"No, Miss Rosenburg is pregnant, and you are statistically unlikely to be the father, given the sheer weight of numbers of the possible candidates for that honour." The creature with the startlingly original name Smith, stated, still in its calm monotone, bringing back the humans urge to push the fur from its ears to see if they were pointed. "You are, however, the obvious candidate for the role of Tark, in your language, Daddy. Acceptance of this role is the traditional right of passage in our culture, I should point out."

"Fatherhood? Anyone can be a parent, even mine achieved it and they were..."

"No, Mr Harris, I am not talking about the ability to reproduce, I mean the acceptance of the responsibilities of male parent, of the sacrifices and joys of 2am feeding, diaper changing and 'are we there yet dad, are we there yet, are we there yet...' I should add that if we did not feel you were worthy we would not ask." Still in Spock mode, with the occasional Steve Martin flash. Sitting in its appropriately oversized chair, with its fingers steepled, the demon looked him directly in the eyes, as it had from the start of the conversation. The owner of Harris construction pondered the creatures words carefully.

"So, if you thought I was unworthy but likely to be stuck with the job by default, you'd kill me or something?" Xander was in his logical analysis mode, where he made the hard decisions like telling Buffy to kill her boyfriend, or lying to her to ensure she would kill Angel.

"Yes." Still the cold Vulcan tone. Having decided to intervene directly in the situation by training and hiring Faith led inevitably to this room, and this conversation. The Slayer, her happiness, and her 'family' support system, were too important to the fate of the world to NOT be having this conversation.

Smith felt the weight of duty on his shoulders, an old companion but never so heavy. He could not impose proper moral values on all humans, but given the opportunity he would use his power for good. If he had judged the human in front of him correctly, he was still talking to an ally anyway.

"If I start acting like my dad you'll, what, feed me to something?" The carpenter had walked out on his wedding out of the sick fear of becoming like the animal that had raised him. The lifelong doubts about himself all ultimately centered on this, would he be like all the other men in his family.

"Yes."

"We have a deal."

The Magic Box, that night

"I have an announcement to make to you all." Willow spoke up, Faith holding her hand, Xander on the other side holding her with one hand and Anya with the other. The red head had been delaying this announcement, out of fear of abandonment, of the friends she had tried to kill so recently finally deserting her when the final straw broke the camels back. Faith and Xander had been talking in hushed tones all afternoon, and come to her insisting it would be all right. She was only showing a little, bulky clothes and not quite three months. "This is really, really important."

"What, is there some new prophecy, end of the world stuff." Buffy asked, thinking that if the joint patrols with the Sunnydale P.D. response team kept working out they would be a major asset at the next appocalypse. Giles, however, looked puzzled, nothing major was coming up to his knowledge. "Tell us all Wills."

"I'm pregnant." Most of the group was silent; her two supporters squeezed her hand and smiled support at her. "Xander is not the father, but is determined to accept it as his child, and Faith says she will stand by me. I'll understand if the rest of you are disappointed or..."

She was interrupted by Giles hugging her. The former librarian kissed her lightly on the forehead. She had been shaking with fear, and tears were rolling down her face, her speech too emotional to understand easily. After her parents response she had been so certain no one would accept this.

"My dear child, we have guarded the mouth of hell together, nappy changing is not that much worse, honestly." In other circumstances Giles would have been hurt by the assumption he would abandon her, but he had been there when her Father and Mother had formally disowned her. They had found her putting flowers on Tara's grave, gotten the basic story from her, and started a scene that ended in Giles knocking Ira Rosenburg into an open grave with a broken nose and three cracked ribs. No charges had been laid 'to avoid further shaming the family', and Willow had gone straight to a bar and started her wild behaviour. "I would love to be a godmother but, as a vengeance demon D'Hoffran might object." Anya said smiling. There was no bigger test, in her opinion, of a man's worth, than whether her runs from family responsibility or towards family responsibility. Her former fiancé had told her he loved her, and then explained the situation. She was going back to being in love with him, especially when he promised to still be her stud. "Actually it might be an idea to make D'Hoffran the demonfather."

"Demonfather?" Faith asked, knowing the answer would at least be entertaining.

"Like a godfather, but a demon. After all, god is supposed to be a nice guy, it's the other side you really need to be able to call in favours with." And to Anya this undoubtedly seemed like the most reasonable idea in the world. "And every child should know how to eviscerate someone, it's just one of those skills we really should all learn."

A Sunnydale graveyard, later that night.

Faith was walking point, with Buffy to the rear to handle anyone sneaking up on them. The slayers were acting as early warning sensors, since the response team cops could not tell vampire from human without Infra Red scanners, which were in short supply. It was the third graveyard of the night, and the second week of patrols with SPD. Contacts had all been short and loud, so far, and the Scoobies had actually had more sleep than at any time since Buffy arrived. Vampires are vicious, fast and strong, but stupid and with no real head for tactics and weapons. A shout from Buffy proved it.

"Hey, bloodsucker, come and get it." There were four of them, and the team fell into practiced formation. The Slayer fell back behind the cops, who brought up shotguns full of the incendiary/armour piercing high explosive (aphe) rounds. Xander and Anya turned away from the obvious attack, in case the first group was a diversion. The carpenter and soon to be dad scanned the trees and ground, watching for anything coming up through or over the grass.

The booming sound of shotguns and the distinctive sound of dusting vampires indicated all was well, but he was not used to the 'contact drill' yet, not away from the training ground, and he was nervous.

Eventually the shooting stopped, amid shouts from the response team of 'Clear', 'Clear', 'Clear' as each man confirmed he had no more targets in his arc of fire. There was a sound of the shotguns being reloaded, and the Slayers moved to the front again to prevent a second attack getting through at this vulnerable time.

When reloading finished the patrol moved on, Buffy taking point and Faith tail end charlie.

Casa Summers, next morning.

The red head slept soundly, sandwiched between her love and her oldest friend. Or, as said friends girlfriend referred to him, my boyfriend and your fucktoy. To say that Xander enjoyed the latter title was like saying the Pacific Ocean was slightly damp.

After all these years the youngest Harris male was naked in her bed, and Faith's soft warmth on the other side was security for her mind. Sleep had come easily for her that night.

Buffy was sleeping with Anya, partly because she had gotten into the habit of having a woman in bed with her through the previous month with Willow.

Partly it was because Anya simply could not be left alone tonight, not after accepting Xander's paternal role with the red headed friend of his life. She could control her jealousy by demonstrating control over the situation, but sleeping alone in the bed triggered her 'alone and abandoned' panic response.

So, since Buffy trusted the demon's word to restrict herself to snuggling, with no sexual advances, petting etc, and with Buffy in flannel pyjamas with smiling cows on them, they slept the sleep of the just.

Faith Wilkins was finally where she had wanted to be in life. She had money in the bank, paid for by a totally legal job, miracle of miracles. She had people on the police force that did not think of her as a potential criminal, for the first time in her life. She had regular, varied sex from skilful, caring partners.

But most of all she had someone who she loved, who was at least growing to love her, and a child on the way. Ok, she had never quite imagined a situation where she was part of a couple having a baby and she was not the pregnant one, but she had not really been into women until prison, and for a long time she had seen herself as unworthy of love. A long time as in, since the age of about four. She was deliriously happy. She dreamed of what had happened when they returned from parol, waking up Willow who slept on the couch. Faith had found an old Beach Boys song on CD, put it on and sung it to Willow while the group watched.

I may not always love you,
but long as there are stars above you,
you'll never need to doubt it,
I'll make you so sure about it,

And god only know what I'd be without you,

If you should ever leave me,
well life would still go on, believe me,
the world could show nothing to me,
So what good would living do me?

And God only know what I'd be without you,

If you should ever leave me,
well life would still go on believe me,
the world would show nothing to me,
so what good would living do me?

And God only knows what I'd be without you
God only knows what I'd be without you,
god only knows what I'd be without you,
god only knows what I'd be without you,

Faith had broken down crying as the overlapping harmonies of God Only Knows flowed on in the background. The words were inadequate to describe her love, but it was the closest she could come to explaining herself. Willow seemed to understand, was hugging her. And that is what the Mayors former killer dreamed of, acceptance and love of one woman in the world who really meant the world to her.

*****

It is said that nature abhors a vacuum. I certainly did in Sunnydale, as the hellmouth drew in vampires and demons from the world around it to replace the ones killed by the rapidly improving patrol system. It seemed that the minions of darkness simply WOULD not learn the value of modern weapons, and insisted on fighting hand to hand, or with swords, against the semi-auto shotguns of the police and Slayerettes. So the booming of 12 gauge autoloaders became more and more common at night, and the world slowly changed, mainly for the better, to accommodate it.

At first only the SWAT teams, relabelled the Rapid Response Teams, had been involved in the anti-demon patrols. But the simple fact that anyone in the town, and therefore any cop on night patrol, could encounter vampires meant that had to change. Harvey Norman, and Bates were only too pleased to supply as much incendiary and APHE ammunition as was needed, as well as the South Korean 30 round shotguns to make best use of them. At least as long as intensive re-training in fire discipline and proper target identification was provided FIRST.

In any other city being greeted by the police with a squirt in the face by a water pistol would be considered odd, and perhaps justification for a complaint. Sunnydale being Sunnydale, it became just part of the routine, to be ignored like all those dead people with twin puncture wounds and their blood missing used to be. People in the surrounding communities certainly started to comment, however, and journalists, politicians and police chiefs were taken on patrol to show what was happening. The new members of the fight felt no compulsion to keep secrets, in the belief that organization and teamwork were the keys to any victory.

"Mr Giles this is an outrage." Quentin Travers sputtered, glaring at the Watcher who had defied the Council on so many occasions. "The Slayer has a sacred calling to fight alone, and not only do you allow them friends but now this, this decent into..."

"Teamwork, superior firepower and, technology?" The Slayers father figure commented. He was very aware, as Travers apparently was not, of how all this looked to the RRT members watching to one side. How anyone could be so arrogant as to NOT NOTICE the dozen angry cops with huge drum fed shotguns in patrol slings he did not know, but this moron was doing it.

"We are killing vampires and demons in larger numbers than ever, and if we did not have the help of these men I am afraid Buffy and Faith might both have passed on."

"Yes, allowing the calling of new slayers better suited to our traditional..."

"LISTEN HEAR YOU LITTLE ENGLISH PRICK." It was Murphy, leader of Rapid Response Team Two, also known as Red Team, and he was holding the Council representative by the collar and shaking him. RRT2's leader was not a small man, and had the 'take charge and move out' personality that went with his calling.

A big believer in meeting dangerous situations with speed, violence and teamwork, he was a lot like the old Faith in some ways. "These girls should NEVER have been left hanging, with no support but one man providing intel. I'd have you up for attempted murder for just considering it, except it's too much trouble over a weasel like you. FUCK OFF BEFORE I RIP YOUR LUNGS OUT AND FEED THEM TO MY DOG!"

Travers was nonplussed by all this, but also less intimidated than he might have been if he had not been an upper class snob with nothing but contempt for anyone not born to an English aristocratic family. He had also mistaken the comment about his lungs for a threat. It had been intended as an explanation of a possible course of action, by a man who was used to eliminating problems rather than living with them, though feeding him to a vampire prior to dusting was actually the rapidly forming plan. The Watcher was incapable of believing he had done anything wrong, or that new methods might be better than old.

"What you fail to appreciate is that for thousands of years our council has..."

"Sent 16 year old girls out to die while sitting in libraries reading. You think only the slayer can fight because only the slayer can match vampires in speed and strength." It was Hernandez this time, the more intellectual member of the team. He wanted to be a team leader himself some day, wanted to be a good one, and so he studied, theory and how it had worked in practice. "Do you know what a European cave bear was, Mr Travers."

"? No." Travers was puzzled by this sudden change of subject, and that no one else seemed puzzled by it.

But they knew the man speaking, and his tendency to teach by parable. And they knew the one coming up, had been taken to the zoo to be shown the point of it.

"It was 15 feet of teeth, muscle and appetite that our 5 foot nothing ancestors had to get out of the caves before they could move in. Twice the size and four times the weight of a Kodiak bear, Mr Travers, and we took them on with fire hardened spears because the stone tipped spear was still to be invented." The young Latino was looking directly into the Council members eyes through this speech, never allowing the other man to break eye contact, and putting a big emphasis on the 'we' part. "They are all extinct now, with sharp sticks, teamwork and courage we turned them into rugs and bear meat stew. We did them, and we can do these bastards too. We're Red Team."

Before Quentin Travers could ponder why this man was speaking in the present tense, he saw the group swing up their weapons and level them past him, as he fell to the ground. The dark slayer had knocked him down and he turned in time to see a dozen or more Mertak demons attacking. There was the roar of multiple shotguns firing as fast as possible, and then silence as he felt a wet substance soak into his clothing, he looked at it, it was green blood.

"R E D SPELLS RED,

R E D, R E D SPELLS RED,

RED TEAM,

RED TEAM,

RED TEAM YO!" They were all singing at the top of their lungs, ignoring the need to sleep of anyone around. They also left the corpses in the street, as was their habit. There was a special phone number for people with demon corpses to dispose of now, and it was standard operating procedure to call it after an incident. But the pickup crews only worked in daylight, for safety and so the population could see what all the noise was about. Having to step over these corpses on the way to work in the morning was a street cops idea of a PR exercise, 'Without us these would have been in your house' was the message intended. It seemed to work, certainly no-one seemed to complain about the noise and police budget for a while after doing it.

"Coming Quentin?" It was Giles, speaking politely and trying not to smile. The slaying task was rapidly turning into a war and while the loss of control was a little worrying, it promised a much longer life span for slayers, and he was all for that. Since the man on the ground simply did not care about the slayers life span as such, but did care about maintaining control over the slayer and slaying, it seemed like the end of the world to him. Tough.

The Summers house, Friday afternoon.

"Buffy, I have to talk to you about Xander." Anya said to the blonde slayer, who was getting dressed for her evening patrol with Blue Team, aka Rapid Response Team 1. Blue team were behind on the monthly demon kill tally, and were determined not to be buying the beer this month, as the low scoring team was required to do. She went along with the whole macho thing with good humour; it was extending her life span after all. "I need you to do us a favour."

"Like what?"

"Reconsider a romantic involvement with him, you both need it." The vengeance demon announced, with a serene calm on her face. The house was empty except for the two of them, with Faith and Xander at work and Willow out shopping for Maternity dresses. "All the orgasms would normally be enough to keep any man happy, but he needs to be romantic with someone, and he still loves you, so you're the obvious choice. That and the fact that currently you're both fucktoys in our group."

"WERE WHAT?"

"Fuck toys, sex machines with a pulse, spare orifices for..."

"DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?" The slayer was less than thrilled by her request; Anya had picked up on that very quickly. The source of the other woman's anger was less obvious to her, however. Xander was always smiling at her references, but then most men would be happy to have proof they were enough man to keep so many women satisfied.

"No, I have a boyfriend I farm out to please women, and who seems very happy with that duty."

"So, you're his pimp and you think I should be happy to be included in that role?"

"No money is exchanging hands, although I really should have considered it, shouldn't I? " Clearly the vengeance demon was trying to get the conversation back on track, while considering the money making opportunity presented. "What I, sorry we, want you to consider is a chance to be loved for yourself, rather than simply be the source of sexual fantasies that only one of our group can act on. And he always wanted the whole thing, including flowers and sappy poetry, but avoid the poetry because he's really bad at writing it."

"Xander writes love poetry." The image would not form in her mind, it was just too bizarre.

"Yes, he always has, when I asked he showed me stuff he wrote the night he met you. Sweet, really bad, but sweet."

"Xander writes love poetry."

"I managed to get him to admit to himself that he still loves you, and I think you could really love him if you let yourself think of him that way, and he would never leave me so I hope sharing is not a problem. Eventually threesomes, when you come to your senses about how great sex with women is."

"Xander writes love poetry."

"Clearly you are having a problem with something here, so why don't I just make sure the apple cake is ready for when the guy's get here. One of the things the demon had learned to do while temporarily human was bake, an amazingly good apple cake in particular. Her lemon cheesecake was also highly prized, and she always had something of the sort ready when the RRT van came to pick Buffy or Faith up. It was a ritual that had formed instantly, a good luck charm that you could eat. After 1100 years as a demon she knew very little about human psychology, but she did understand the importance of rituals and charms.

Faith and Willow's bedroom, early Saturday morning.

The red head was six months along now, and the pregnancy was showing. She was still at UCS, and still a straight A student, but her studies were less focused now, with no need to think of a career path. So she was doing a double major in Computer Science -because working on Artificial Intelligence was serious fun - and Ancient languages, to help with research.

To be honest she was still a little torn, because she had discovered a recent paper on the quantum mechanical re-interpretation of certain elements of solid state physics, and the professor wanted her to work with him and his team on it. She was really worried that she was having too much fun, that university was supposed to be about work and here she was in the A. I. and experimental physics labs having more fun than at any time in her life. That the AI team had two Noble Prize winners on it, and the Quantum Physics lab one, and they were fighting over who had more right to pick her mind, was unnoticed by the Slayerettes.

The simple fact was that no other student below PhD level could even understand the casual conversation in either lab, while she, who was repeating her second year due to time lost trying to destroy the world etc., had repeatedly changed the course of research with off the cuff comments. Willow had been tested once, and told she was in the top 10% of the population in many areas. Which was true, in a sense, since she was in the top 100 scientists in the world. Her romance with Faith was partly built around this, since while Willow had always known she was smart, just not how smart, Faith had always been told she was stupid, when in fact she was significantly smarter than any of the teachers who insulted her.

The dark slayer's apparent stupidity and recklessness had the same cause, she routinely saw three or more steps ahead and acted on that. Since none of the people who supposedly were teaching or leading her could follow her reasoning it looked to them like she had none, and was just lucky. When, in the course of her prison education she had been introduced to Probability theory, she had breezed through it. How could anyone not automatically see the possible outcomes of any action, the probability of each outcome, and then work on the possible outcomes and probabilities of the secondary outcomes? She had been doing it all her life, could not have survived her childhood without it. Now Willow talked about her day, and the things that happened to be puzzling people in the two labs, and Faith commented on what she thought was most likely to work out as the solution. They were enjoying themselves in life, and asleep now.

"Hello Faith." It was Tara, Faith had not dreamed about Tara before, not having known her really. This version was talking quietly, in a room with quietly tasteful furnishing in pastel colours. "Faith, this is not a dream, it is a visitation, I will visit every one of the Scoobs tonight, ask them in the morning."

"Ok." And to the dark slayer it was, since either this was true, in which case COOL, or it was just a dream, in which case, COOL. Her dreams often revolved around the people she had killed, and/or tortured, for the Major. Only two were known from records, which had been 'sanitized' by the Mayor to allow her the reduced sentence that had allowed her to get out so soon. But she had seen his interests as her own, genuinely liked and been liked by him, and so applied her reasoning to finding and eliminating possible threats to him. So many people dead, at her hands, because probability said they would be a future hazard.

"But not Buffy or the gang Faith, them you let live. And you could have killed them all, one bomb in the library and it would have been over." Tara was talking, speaking logically and smoothly, speaking the simple truth. She had not killed Buffy and the gang on her own account, and had not offered her reasoning to the Mayor on how to do so. "There were limits to your evil, Faith, and you finally reached them when you tortured Wesley. And now you turned back, from the dark side of the force, to the light."

"The Dark Side of the Force, what is the big guy a Star Wars fan?"

"Well actually he likes the analogy better than of some serious theological works, yes." Tara clarified.

"Master Yoda, is the Dark Side more powerful?" Faith imitated Luke in The Empire Strikes Back.

"No, quicker, easier, more seductive." Tara as Yoda replying to Luke's question. "He thinks it gets the point across well, if you don't believe me I can get you an interview, you are a major Warrior of Light, and he can make the time for you."

"I thought he would be too busy."

"I was being literal." Tara said patiently. "He can make the time, it's one of the things he does." Faith, who was not very religious, pondered the meaning of all this, other than just, is it only a dream. She had to ask the obvious question. "Why are you here, if you really are here, of course?"

"To encourage you, in your case. Each Scooby will get a different message, Willow that loving you is not a betrayal of me, she worries about that, Xander not to feel so guilty about my death, things like that. They will tell you tomorrow morning if they want to." The blonde smiled, holding Faith's hand without the slayer having noticed her taking it.

"You are earning your place in Heaven, your redemption. Don't worry so much, and if you need moral guidance ask both Giles and Xander the same question. Giles is the kinder, non -judgmental voice, Xander is distinctly too ruthless for some tastes, but he sees most clearly when the situation is most confused. Neither is perfect, but then who is?"

The dark slayer watched the other woman get up and walk out, and the room dissolve into blackness.

Each member of the gang mentioned the experience at breakfast. Each seemed a bit more at ease with the world, and their place in it. It was the beginning of a beautiful day, for all of them.

Chapter 2

The eastern Pacific, 2100hrs local time.

Two people were preparing to dive off a rented boat, people who by rights should have had someone more experienced in charge, given their limited Scuba experience. But the dark haired man had done an awful lot that was against the rules in the last few years, and wanted to keep the whole thing secret. The short, red haired woman with him was, as usual, wondering how he talked her into these things.

"Relax Scully, a little dive in the beautiful Pacific, it's like a vacation." Fox Mulder checked his gear again, and his partners too. It was basic safety, and he had been taught this by a friend who was, like most of his friends for some reason, paranoid, and committed to the 'anything you did not personally check just before use will break on you' school of thought.

"Wreck diving in Truck Lagoon is a vacation, night diving for vampires off Los Angeles is not." Scully had only recently qualified, and in a false name as befitted their 'on the lam' status.

"Why would you want to dive on a sunken Japanese fleet when you can look for the undead?" Mulder was genuinely puzzled. His partner looked at him for a while, before asking a question many would have asked a decade before.

"Mulder, is your psychiatrist on danger money?"

"Yes, why?" Getting a psychiatrist who works by chat room had not been easy, bless the Lone Gunmen wherever they were.

"Just checking."

The water was not too cold, and they had been given very specific instructions of where to look, including precise grid co-ordinates to program into the GPS. So they went down, keeping a careful eye on the instructions about diving to these depths. Both had decompression charts, and were acutely aware of the dangers of ignoring them. Eventually they approached the bottom, and saw what they had been told would be there, a metal cage. The man in it was looking at them with wild hope, and no air tanks. Clearly this was Angel.

WE ARE HERE TO GET YOU OUT, DO YOU UNDERSTAND? Mulder wrote on a slate and showed the caged individual, who nodded back.

I AM GOING TO USE EXPLOSIVES TO OPEN THE CAGE. A nervous nod.

Mulder had the pre packaged shaped charges in a bag, and wrapped them around the bars and lock. Then the two former FBI agents swam back, out of blast range. Angel was not supposed to be in danger from this, if their source was to be believed. There was a muffled thud, and bubbles rose from the cage.

WE WILL GET THE CHAINS OFF WITH ON THE BOAT, OK?

Again a nod and they attached floatation bags to the chained vampire and inflated them from their air tanks, giving the undead neutral buoyancy. It was a slow trip back from 300 ft, with the prescribed stops to decompress so as to avoid 'the bends'.

Scully was seriously troubled by her inability to find a rationalization for the man with them. His calm way of looking at them would have been normal, if it was not from someone without air for this long. Mulder would be insufferable after this.

The dive boat, 2240hrs.

Watching the vampire, because that was clearly what he was, gulp down 5 blood bags and several pints of fresh water made Dana Scully cringe. It was not the blood, or the vampire, as such, but the fact that Spooky Mulder finally had proof she could not deny about something she had refused to believe in. The difficulty of getting the bound manvampirewhatever on board was solved with a winch, something she had thought of before the dive, and a salve to her ego.

The explosives had been prepared by Mulder's 'dive instructor', a former Navy SEAL, which would have been more confidence inspiring if he had not kept trying to convince them that Elvis lived in an underwater city he visited regularly. Not too odd for one of the former profiler's friends, but still...

"Who are you two, how did you know I was there?" Angel had lost track of time, and had not idea how long he had been underwater. But since Cordelia, Gunn and Fred were not here, presumably someone else had sent them, but not a government agency with such limited resources.

"We are, or were, FBI agents." Mulder explained, having fought down the reflex response 'Fox Mulder and Dana Scully, FBI.' "We had a, a visitor, who told us to come here for you."

"What was so special about a visitor that you laid on all this, clearly without official backing, on her say so?"

"She appeared in the middle of our hotel room out of nowhere, told us, and just disappeared again." Scully had checked for holographic projectors and hallucinogenic drugs in their systems before agreeing to go along with the dive, but she had gone along finally. "She said she was Cordelia Chase, and she 'ascended' on the way to meet you the night you were stuck in that cage."

Angel stripped down and washed the salt water off himself before changing into dry clothing. He was too wrung out emotionally to care about being naked, and the way Scully suggested it sounded like doctors orders anyway.

With the boat headed back in all he wanted to do was find out if everyone else was alight. Gunn, Fred, even Wesley who he had been planing the slow death of. Had Connor attacked them too?

"Can I use your mobile, I have to call my friends?"

"Cordelia said she would arrange to have us met. And that everyone seems to be about as alright as they were when this happened." Angel was wondering about Wesley, he had had a lot of time to think in that cage, about betrayal in particular. Wesley had been presented with convincing, false evidence and acted on it, as had Connor, who had believed Angel had murdered his 'father.' If he could forgive Connor while actually being locked in a cage and dumped into the ocean by him, why not the former watcher? His mission was supposed to be about saving souls, wasn't it, how could he himself be forgiven if he refused it of a man who had been a close friend?

The Hyperion hotel, a few days later.

The celebration over Angels return had wound down eventually. He had been gone for many months, and a lot had happened in that time that had proven the value of the individual skills lost in the run up to his prolonged dunking. Gunn and Fred had been in over their heads in their own way, and brought Wesley back to help. He was also assisting Faith, who was out of prison, and working as an accountant, of all things, in Sunnydale. Faith actually commuted to slay in Los Angeles, and seemed to have acquired huge financial resources.

It was when Faith started explaining the current situation in Sunnydale that the radical changes while he was 'away' sank in. Willow lost her Lesbian lover (Angel hadn't even known she's changed teams), skinned the murderer alive and tried to destroy the world. After all else failed, after she had beaten the rest of the Scoobies, Giles nearly to death, Xander just talked her out of it. He just stood directly in her line of fire, absorbing energies intended to destroy the whole world, and calmly talked her out of it. Was it the third or fourth apocalypse he had averted, more?

And still the gang didn't seem to take Harris seriously, which puzzled and enraged the souled vampire. He had never actually LIKED, Xander, partly because of the White Knight's suspicions about Angel's trustworthiness.

Angel had believed his soul was an absolute protection, and only after the whole 'feed the lawyers to Darla and Drusila' debacle had he realized the truth. He wasn't trustworthy, someday it might be necessary for someone to dust him, even with his soul intact, and the Zeppo had known it all along.

Angel had started wondering why none of the people who hung around Harris could see that 'the clown' was the most ruthless, cold bloodedly analytical individual the nearly quarter millennium old vampire had ever met. Were they blind or was it the hellmouth affecting their minds somehow? Judging the book by its cover is human, but this was getting ridiculous. Suddenly it hit him, who to send to investigate this, now that thanks to Faith's employers money was not an issue.

"Mulder, how would you like to investigate another X-File?"

*****

Mulder & Scully's car, on the coast road to Sunnydale.

Former Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully was reviewing the information they had acquired about the Xander Harris case. She wondered when her life had changed to the point where they would consider an X-File investigation was warranted by the fact that someone was totally ordinary. Well, maybe not totally ordinary, but the things he was being singled out for seemed like, well...she was having trouble thinking of a term, proof she was tired and wrung out from the last few days.

"Mulder, tell me, why is Xander an X-File because he thought letting one of Europe's most famous torture murderers hang out with his friends was dangerous? Because that is where this case starts, with the fact that he was the only one of the Slayerettes who never trusted Angel, and who told the vampire slayer to slay him when he reverted and wanted to destroy the world."

It had taken a fair amount of explanation to get the red headed woman to believe what had happened over the last seven years or so. It had not taken much longer for her to really appreciate how warped the view of the people around her was.

"What would you have done about Angelus and the Acathla episode?" Mulder was amused, and also feeling way out of his depth. Going from trying to prove the existence of paranormal phenomena and consistently failing, to working for a vampire and his collection of demon hunters was still a big mental jump. And Scully seemed to be shifting ground on him about this, at least her mind seemed to wander off whenever the Harris boy's 'sorry Buffy, but you have to kill your boyfriend' advice was mentioned, and the hostile reception it got. Even Angel said it was perfectly reasonable, and a kinder fate than what had actually happened to him.

"I grew up in a cold war Navy family, you know that Mulder, I grew up listening to my father, and then brother, discuss apocalyptic situations as something they could very easily be decision makers in." Fox was only too well aware of Scully's family background, that her father and elder brother captained of nuclear capable warships. Were was this going? "Sometimes a bunch of them would sit around in the lounge room after a barbecue, have a drink or three, and discuss how someday they may be ordered to fire their nuclear weapons. What situations justified using them, that sort of thing."

It was quiet in the car as they drove through the California night. They would get to the Summers House around midnight, and were expected. Off to the left the moon shone on the waters, picking up a million points of light as the wave tops were illuminated. The occasional freighter sat off the coast, navigation lights showing against the darkness. It was warm, and palm trees swayed against a gentle evening breeze. Scully discussing the end of the world under these circumstances was surreal, somehow, but this must have been normal circumstances for the evening captains shoptalk she was relating.

"And the thing they all seemed to agree on was that if someone wanted to attack us, to destroy us, then shooting first was the only sane thing to do, if you were certain he was going to attack and that you could stop him with your own." Her voice was still calm, reasonable, just a woman relating overheard conversations. "Turning a foreign capital city into radioactive rubble is something the men in my family actually have to face the prospect of doing, so I know what any of them would have done if they knew about Angelus and Acathla. They would have nuked Sunnydale to glass just to be sure, and worried about the court marshal and execution later."

Fox Mulder had never really thought about nuclear war, about having to fight one, of having that kind of responsibility. He was a loner, after all, obsessive and paranoid, and not someone who would ever make it through the psychological screening process of a military organization that was not totally desperate. He had understood this about himself, intellectually, and why he never had gotten along with people in uniform.

That his partner had grown up among people who had been trusted with the ability destroy whole nations at the push of a button, that Armageddon was a dinner table conversation topic in her childhood, had never really hit him before.

The road they were taking was not the fastest way to their destination, but it would get them there on time and was a beautiful piece of winding coastal highway. Every so often they came to a town, and slowed to the speed limit as they ran through, people coming back from the beach, surfboards under the arms of some of the more die-hard waxheads. Scully and Mulder were both thinking about what it would have been like, on one of those pre-Acathla nights, to watch a inbound missile streak in towards Sunnydale over the warm surf and palm trees.

Would the watchers have time to wonder who had launched, before the fireball vaporized 50,000 or 100,000 people, to wonder at being condemned to a fiery death by their own Navy? 100,000 now to save 6,000,000,000 later, those were the sort of trade offs Scully's menfolk, and, clearly to Dana, Xander Harris, faced as the moral dilemmas of their lives.

Mulder had been seeing Xander Harris as an interesting man to profile, possibly only in relation to the people who thought him boringly ordinary. He had never been told to investigate someone for being considered normal before, after all.

"Mulder, Angel called Mr Harris ruthless and cold bloodedly analytical, and wondered how no-one else seemed to see it. All they see is the runner up for class clown, the guy who goes for doughnuts, they never put the two together. But I grew up with that kind of dichotomy, to me its ordinary, a part of my girlhood, dear dad who I know loved us, who had to the power to help destroy or save the world. I may never be able to see my family again, and now my childhood hits me in the face again."

Casa Summers, Midnight.

Everyone was still awake when they pulled up in front of the house, and called to be escorted from there car to the house. It would have seemed crazy if they had not actually met a vampire, that they could be prey for something on the short walk up the driveway to the front door. The 'unconventional' sleeping arrangements at the house had been explained by Faith as part of their briefing in LA. And had provided some interesting new knowledge of vampire physiology, as the souled vampire turned an interesting shade of purple while Faith explained it all.

"HE'S SLEEPING WITH BUFFY!"

"Plus Anya, and Willow, and me of course. And we really do get some sleep, eventually, for a magically endowed stud he's a big cuddly teddy bear, nice to snuggle up to." Faith liked Angel, he had seen the potential good in her when few others had, but watching his face change colour was too good to miss. "Buffy is the only one not part of a couple though, so Anya insists Xander give her special attention, and as the only straight woman of the group B's getting less action than the rest of us anyway."

The souled vampire had looked about to burst a blood vessel as the necessary explanations were made, after all the investigators had been specifically asked to come to grips with the mind set of the scabies. So the social situation was part of what they had to get a grip on. However much they tried to avoid phrasing it that way in Angel's presence. The dark slayer's attempt to smooth things over by changing the subject had its own set of problems.

"Karnak demons, you're working for Karnak demons?" Angel again, since Wesley already knew and the rest wouldn't know a Karnak demon from a pixie. "The third largest Accounting firm in the world is owned and staffed by Karnak demons, and they are paying you to do bookkeeping?"

"I do audits now, at least the preliminary work, I'm not just a bookkeeper!" Faith was ticked. She had to stay in the hotel overnight, with patrolling at night and several work appointments the next day, and she wanted to end this and get ready. "Yes Angel, the money to bring the hotel back up to code and pay the back taxes, etc., it all came from a bunch of business demons who think paying to prevent the end of the world is a sound insurance investment."

With that she had gone up to her room to change out of her work clothes into patrol gear, and the rest had had the spectacle of a 250 year old vampire in a stuttering rage to deal with. Mulder and Scully had gone up to their room, which Fred had decorated when given advanced warning by Cordelia that a newly wed couple would be staying there.

It featured a four-poster bed, with mirrors on the roof and walls, lights that could be dimmed or brightened, and mounting points on the bed for the handcuffs and silk ropes lying on the bed. She had also provided an interesting collection of 'toys' not all of which they could work out the use of. Neither former agent wanted to think about what the mousy looking physicist was getting up to with Gunn, after she had explained that 'I didn't include anything kinky cause, being ex-FBI, you're both probably really conservative.'

"Hi, you must be Mulder and Scully, I'm Buffy." It was a perky looking blonde wearing a crucifix, recognisable from photos. She seemed cheerful, and fit the blonde bimbo stereotype that she apparently cultivated as part of her hunting technique. There was a group of obvious SWAT team men saying goodbye and getting into a dark van, clearly the Blue Team Faith had mentioned. Mulder was disoriented again, just by the idea of a police force that actually took paranormal phenomena seriously enough to train and equip full time patrols to deal with it.

The inside of the Summers house was very suburban conventional, at least on the ground floor. The bedrooms were upstairs, and apparently the ex-agents were sleeping on in Buffy's sister's room tonight, Dawn being at a friends place overnight. They looked around the group, still awake at this time of night due to their odd nightly activities, and saw various stages of fear, acceptance, and excitement looking back at them. A heavily pregnant red head, presumably Willow, spoke up excitedly.

"Einstein's twin paradox, a new interpretation, I read it, your thesis, I read it." She was more tired than she was used to being at this time of night, due to the pregnancy, but being rich she could sleep in the day, and the baby kicked at night making sleep hard anyway. "But, have you thought about the quantum mechanical implications if..."

"Will, stop, breathe, you can interrogate the nice woman later. Right now I think we should just introduce ourselves, have a drink or two and go to bed." The only male in the group, clearly the much mentioned Xander Harris. "Willow did a background check on you when we heard you were coming, and, your undergraduate thesis excited her. I keep telling her you might not have done that stuff in years, but..."

"Oh come on Xander, how can anyone not be excited by the quantum mechanical re-interpretation of Relativistic physics? I mean, once you've gotten involved in something like that you can't just stop, it's too much fun to give up, I mean..."

A woman materialised in the middle of the room, and looked at Mulder, Scully and the babbling mother to be. She smiled and turned to Scully, one of only two people in the room who thought her sudden appearance in any way odd.

"Hi, I'm Anyanka, why don't we end this silly sit and talk bit and get straight to the orgy?"

*****

Mulder and Scully's hotel room, Sunnydale, 9.15pm, Tuesday.

Fox Mulder was puzzled about what to be puzzled about. He and Scully were here as investigators for a P.I. in Los Angeles, who found certain behaviours of acquaintances here in Sunnydale strange. On arrival, it was learned that the definition of the world 'strange', was subject to much dispute. After all Angel, the p.i., was a vampire, and the strange behaviour was the tendency of a group of professional demon fighters to regard one of their number as 'normal guy.'

"Mulder, tell me if I have this right." Dana Scully was actually in agreement about things with him for once, which was disconcerting in and of itself. "The quote, Normal Guy end quote, was hit by a Troll, with its hammer, sustaining an arm injury which cured itself in a week or two. Said Troll Hammer was subsequently used to BEAT A GOD TO DEATH! But none of his friends seem to think that it was in any way unusual for Mr Harris to get away with only trivial injuries. But they were puzzled and angry when he had, a few years earlier, argued it was dangerous to allow a known mass murderer to continue to exist and try to destroy the world because they had a vague possibility of saving him as an individual."

"You have it right."

"Call me strange Mulder but I tend to assume humans are easier to kill than Gods, maybe it's my Catholic upbringing. And is it just my Navy brat childhood that says that risking the destruction of the Earth for the sake of one man, the man who is trying to destroy it, seems irresponsible?"

She had been living in a greater and greater world of unreality and surrealism. Living with and working for Vampires, witches, vampire slayers, and various odd - some extremely odd - demons had her questioning her sanity in a way even knowing Mulder for a decade had not achieved. What is and is not acceptable morally when the end of the world may result from your actions had been part of the 'shop talk' of her Navy family, as she had told Mulder on the drive here. Risking Armageddon for one person was inexcusable, her father, brother and their shipmate had always argued. Was the fact that Xander was taking the same line on this as her male relatives clouding her judgement?

"Who's crazy here?"

The former FBI agents were dealing with this under a larger budget than they had during there years in government service. It allowed them, among other things, to escape the embarrassing situation in the Summers household. Anya, a.k.a. Anyanka patron demon of Scorned Women, had simply assumed they would take part in the nightly orgy.

On the first night exhaustion and unfamiliarity had gotten them out, but Scully's Catholic upbringing was being pushed to the limits even before being propositioned by a bisexual demon that assumed there was really no such thing as a heterosexual woman. Buffy seemed to be the only straight woman of the four, excluding Dawn, as everyone did. Their hotel room was extremely comfortable and not far from Sunnydale, a luxurious base of operations.

The Magic Box, Wednesday Morning

Rupert Giles had been provided with the results of DNA testing, courtesy of Faith's demonic employers. And now he had a real problem, because this was, according to said Karnak demons, properly Mulder and Scully's area of expertise. But it concerned a man who he had grown to think of as his son, who now had to be told something that might make or break him. The pair of former agents walked in, exactly on time, and came to the new upstairs area. Ever the good host, the Englishman made coffee on the espresso machine for the others, and Earl Grey tea for himself.

"Mr Giles, you said you have important news?" Scully said, curious after the somewhat cryptic call bringing them here today. "Yes, it concerns being I have been told you know as 'Super soldiers.' In particular the early experimentation process that produced the final product." The former librarian noticed the sudden change in demeanour from the other two, and correctly assumed it was not the result of overdoing the caramel in the red heads late again. "It also provides some of the answer to the question you were sent here to solve."

"What does Xander Harris have to do with the genetic engineering of..."

"Mulder it would explain how he keeps coming back from all those injuries." Dana Scully commented. The Super Soldiers were part of the reason she and Mulder were on the run, and why their son had been anonymously adopted out to a family producing organic produce in Kansas named Kent, apparently a second adoption on their part. It was painful every time she thought about it, but the SS were nearly indestructible, indeed seemed unkillable, as well as being able to punch through steel doors, breathe underwater and other interesting things. "If Xander is one of them why has he not tried to kill us yet?"

"Why would I try to kill you?" Xander Harris was in his suit, carrying a plate of Danishes. His construction business was going from strength to strength, and he insisted that his doughnut and pastry franchise compete on quality rather than price. They were spreading rapidly, providing money he did not really need and an ego boost he definitely did. "And who is the 'them' I am supposed to be one of?"

Fox Mulder proceeded to give a background explanation of the whole genetic super soldier nightmare, in particular mentioning that they seemed to be produced from normal people, or at least some were. Experimentation on ova and then implanting to unknowing women seemed to be part of it too. It was good the youngest man there was sitting down, because otherwise the news would have floored him.

"But I can't be one of them, I mean I'm not super strong or an exceptional fighter or any of those things."

"Xander you have a series of traits that are missing from them, ones that are arguably more important to creating a super army than individual skills." Rupert Giles new enough history to know what distinguished a winning army from a losing one, after all the individual Roman Legionnaire was physically inferior to nearly all the barbarians they slaughtered to create the empire. And they only lost it after their organizational edge was lost.

"You are unhesitatingly willing to die for your comrades in arms, you have a very clear vision of what is and is not a threat in circumstances where the rest of us fail to do so and your sometimes ruthless decisions about eliminating them, your success in construction shows really impressive organizational and logistical gifts..."

The construction manager still had his 'soldier guy' memories from Halloween, enough to appreciate what was being said. In particular that 'a champion team will beat a team of champions every time', that organization, teamwork and discipline are why modern western elite forces often kill 30 or more for every man they lose against badly trained and organized opponents. It was a lot to think about.

"But I'm a failed experiment?" It was a depressing thought.

"Whoever came up with this project seemed to not know why the Marine Corps motto is 'Always Faithful', and not We kill For Fun." It was Scully again, she had grown up around this after all. "They left out things like loyalty and compassion as irrelevant and seem to have been really surprised when their creations turned on them. Or maybe the fact that you are younger than most of the super soldiers means someone realized the problem too late, we will never know now."

"We still have to explain why your friends never noticed you are essentially unkillable, of course." Mulder added. After all it was not Xander himself they were investigating, it was the hellmouth inhabitants attitude to him they were checking on.

Casa Summers, that night.

Faith watched the love of her life sleep, curled up next to Anya. Sometimes she just liked to watch Willow sleep, see her face relaxed and at peace in the moonlight. It was a romantic side she had never suspected she had, and yet it was so basic to her now. Xander sat his head on her shoulder, she was sitting in his lap, in a large chair that gave the best view of the sleeping women. He had his arms around her waist and was nibbling on her right ear, apparently no longer troubled by the news of earlier that day.

"I love her so much x-man, the way she smiles, the way she hugs me at random times, the way..."

"The way she can use her tongue and both hands on you at the same time?" Xander commented, prompting a slap on the thigh with full slayer strength. A normal man would have limped for a week after a hit like that, but the former Zeppo just kissed her cheek. "Hey it's a reasonable comment, Anya loses co-ordination at, a, crucial moments, I've been watching"

And, of course, the dark slayer was well aware that the vengeance demon was not the lover Willow was, but had not thought Xander had noticed such details, given he was generally 'busy' with Buffy when it was happening. She couldn't help but wonder if the ability to notice crucial details and process them in distracting situations was another engineered trait, or if he was just a horny stud. Probably just a horny stud, she decided, as she felt his erection rise against her.

She decided to use the chair for its secondary purpose, the one Xander had had it custom built like so much of the 'playroom' furnishings. It could be adjusted to allow a variety of sexual positions to be engaged in comfortably, and she rose up clear of him, then sat down, impaling herself on him. They started to move together, both watching their beloved sleep, knowing there loved ones would enjoy hearing about this later on. It was a strange relationship, in many ways, but it worked. And, as an added bonus, produced a line of furnishings that were starting to sell well through sex shops when there 'recreational' uses were explained with the aid of full size 'action' posters.

Posing for the pictures personally had been Anya's idea, and the decision to obscure the faces had puzzled her, as had Buffy's refusal to pose. The rest had joined in with varying degrees of enthusiasm, Willow thinking her pregnant form was inappropriate but insisting on doing a new poster after having the baby. She was more than happy to help get the other three 'in the mood', and take the pictures. Faith had insisted on checking with her employers, Accounting being a conservative industry they might not be thrilled. They had no problems, not really understanding human sexual inhibitions, but insisted on having the legal branches of the conglomerate check that the pictures actually were anonymous enough.

The posters started selling well enough to be a money-spinner in there own right, which was puzzling for a time. Then it was realised that an extraordinary number of demons and vampires had begun buying them after word leaked that a Slayer was one of the 'models'. Some were being used for target practice with knives, guns and darts, others for the more normal uses of pornography. Buffy, perhaps predictably, developed a sudden urge to pose for at least one poster, riding Xander with Faith and Anya in the background, her breasts bouncing and glistening with sweat.

Scully and Mulder took this as more proof that the blonde slayer was in serious need of psychiatric help. Where to get that help without having her committed was one more problem for them to solve. Perhaps the dark slayers employers could find someone. The amount of help they were providing, the changes it had caused, and the rapidly increasing dependence on it that was developing probably warranted another investigation. They would certainly consider it.

*****

Xander Harris's Office, study area, Monday evening

Xander Harris was deliberately doing something he had spent his life being told he couldn't do, or at least do well. he was thinking. In particular he was trying to put the pieces of the puzzle together, the puzzle of Slayers and their nature. His discussions with the Karnak Chronicle Keepers had put a very different perspective on things from the Watcher diaries, starting much earlier and from an outside perspective. It explained to some extent why Buffy had lived longer than most slayers, even counting two deaths. Few slayers lasted more than six months, almost none lived to be tested on their 18th birthday.

Or so the Watcher diaries said.

The Karnak Chronicles told a very different story, and reconciling the two accounts, and his encounters with the First Slayer, was a problem. None of the three versions were necessarily a lie, but like any historical account personal agendas and prejudices had to be taken into consideration. The Karnak had had no direct dealings with Slayers before Faith, or at least not friendly ones. But they therefore had less need to justify their actions in terms of why the slayer lived or died. They were probably objective, and certainly covered pre Watchers Council times, as by definition the Watchers Diaries did not.

The Chronicles began after the expulsion of the Old Ones, but failed to say how much after. However they did include tens of thousands of years of history before the creation of the Watchers Council. He had not actually read them all, of course, but the summaries and histories drawn from them set the Slayer in a social context radically different from anything the council had ever considered.

The Council had begun in a settled, agricultural society, where social status determined who was allowed to be armed, and passing property down from father to sons meant controlling female sexuality, so that there was certainty in who the 'legitimate heir' was. And slayers, in a culture where a 16-year-old girl was by definition a married woman with children, had to fit in somehow, had to be seen to be controlled by a responsible male who was not doing anything 'inappropriate' with her. The familiar Watcher/Slayer relationship grew out of this culture.

"It's not how it started though, that's not how it was at all." The youngest male of the slayer's associates said, as he sipped his coffee. It was actually a blend one of the foremen had introduced him to, traditional Arab coffee with special spices, made with sugar and a special open copper pot. More trouble than the espresso machine, but he enjoyed the taste and the break involved in making it.

The slayer originally existed in a world with only a few million humans in it, but they were hunter-gatherers for whom being armed was taken for granted. To this day some African herders carried wooden spears whenever they were awake. In a world full of dangerous predators the early slayers had been the top hunter of one particular type of predator, with literally millions of others who would kill them if threatened, or simply to show off their manhood, as a hunter or herdsman does with predators.

Instead of a lone slayer protecting a world full of unarmed targets, she was one full time vampire hunter in a world where anyone attacked by one would probably be armed with a perfectly workable vampire killing weapon. Several people, actually, in the average hunting band, people with enough practical experience not to freeze when facing what was just one more predator in a world full of them.

Xander sipped his coffee, and wondered about the things not recorded, because the Karnak of these times were too much outsiders to see or understand the details of how the slayer fit into the human society of the time. Slayers were mentioned as outsiders, to an extent, but with a clear awed respect from other humans for their obvious supernatural status. As protective supernatural beings they were not bound by the social norms of the tribes they moved through, as evidenced by their being offered, and accepting, food, shelter, and sex partners as offerings for their help. Being offered sex partners was still standard hospitality in Central Asia and the South Pacific into the twentieth century, but NOT for FEMALE travellers, of which there essentially were none.

"The hungry and horny thing goes way back, doesn't it Faith?" he mused, unaware that he was no longer alone. The figures behind him walked silently towards him, like the hunters they were, stalking him. They were within touching distance before he became aware of them, seeing something close to him move out of the corner of his eye.

"Buffy, Faith, you scared me out of a years growth." They were smiling at him, the smile of horny slayers. He noticed they were freshly showered, and wearing large towels. His office area included an apartment, in fact included the whole floor of the building, with a spa and, as Dana Scully had put it, 'another orgy room'.

Actually Scully and Mulder had been the first to use it for its intended purpose. They had received a report about their son, William, who had been adopted out to protect him from the pursuing Super Soldiers. The Kent's, of Smallville Kansas, seemed like a painfully wholesome all American family, with one adopted child already, a son Dawn's age named Clark. The Karnak Elders had an ally in the town, Lex Luthor, who was a friend of Clarks and promised to provide regular updates. The former agents had been delirious with joy to finally hear good news about William, and demanded to 'christen' the 'play room' to celebrate.

"I have made a decision, well a couple of decisions." Buffy announced, as she helped lead the totally unprotesting construction boss from his study. She seemed nervous, but also more aroused than normal. Unknown to either of the others, an incident had occurred a few days ago that had caused her to rethink things she had thought totally settled. "I, well, you remember I was late getting home on Friday night?"

"Yes" Xander said, as Faith removed his pants and underwear, while he ripped off her towel. "I stopped off for a coffee and Danish, at your main restaurant, Xander." The pastry stores all had a sit down area, reasonably classy. "I, um, er, I , ah..."

"What?" The other two were sufficiently distracted by the blonde's nervousness to stop what they were doing temporarily. Buffy seemed scarred of something, whatever had happened had rattled her and made her fear rejection. Xander did what he always did in such situations, he forgot his personal business entirely and tried to help. "Whatever it is Buffy, we will help, you know that, right? Don't be afraid, just tell us."

"I had sex with a woman in the toilet, and we were really loud and people kept pounding on the stall door to get us to quiet down and now I can't go back because the staff will all stare at me, and I'M STRAIGHT, HOW COULD I let her seduce me, I mean I asked her if I could share her table because it was crowded and I touched her leg and she smiled and ..."

"So you suspect some kind of spell?"

Given their experiences with sex spells and 'thy will be done' spells it was an obvious question. "If you do don't you think you should avoid sexual situations until we have checked it out?"

Faith Wilkins could only admire Xanders self control, given that this news was the answer to his most cherished fantasy. He had told them, it was no secret among the group. Faith was sorry she had not been the other woman, and getting her mind beyond that image was proving impossible.

"No, yes, I don't know..." Then Buffy kissed Faith passionately, dropping her towel and running her hand over the other slayers breasts. Then she pulled the dark haired woman closer, not breaking the kiss the entire time. Eventually she stopped. "The toilet wasn't the first for me."

"What, I thought she was the first woman for you?" Xander was proud of being able to think any kind of coherent thought, given the sight of two of the sexiest women in the world kissing and groping each other in front of him.

"NO, I mean, she didn't actually seduce me." Buffy was lying on the massage couch, face up, while Faith gave what she called her 'sensual massage.' The blonde slayer had never had one before, given the multiple orgasms inevitably resulting and her supposed hetro status. "When I sat down and accidentally touched her leg, she just smiled at me, then reached down and unzipped my dress, you know it was the red one with the big zip on the side, and she masturbated me till I came at the top of my lungs right there at the table with everyone watching."

The employed Harris noticed that the Buffster had turned on the video recording gear Anya had insisted were appropriate for an orgy area. He hadn't noticed when she did it, being distracted, but at this point he wouldn't have cared if it was going as a live feed to the Vatican.

"I'll never be able to go back to that place againnnn...oh yes, oh yes, oh that feels good, oh yes..."

Xanders Office area Play Room, some time Tuesday morning

"So, Buffy, have I just callously used a woman who was under a spell and couldn't help herself?" Faith was genuinely concerned, and her only defence would be the same as Buffy, that after a night of slaying she was too horny to control herself. As for Xander was still under the 'perfect male sex toy' spell Willow had put him under for Anya's last Birthday, because trying to remove it would certainly remove his entire sex drive and almost certainly kill him. Having decided to live with the effects, including the loss of control under circumstances like this, he could hardly complain now that he was unable to say no to his blonde friend the previous night.

"No, I was actually getting a lot less sex than the rest of the female scabies, so I have a lot to catch up on. So I have several months of girl/girl sex to catch up on this week, and if people think I'm a lesbian slut, well..."

"Well what?"

"I'll tell them, no, I am a bisexual slut." The two women laughed. Xander decided to get help checking this out, Giles would be embarrassed but the Coven in England was bound to have someone who could check out whether a spell was involved.

The Magic Box conference room, a week later

"Mr Harris, Mr Giles, let me assure you there is no spell of any kind over any of your group." The witch the coven had sent was quiet competence herself, and very reassuring. It confirmed what Xanders continued research into pre- council slayers had indicated, that slayers were not really human, and given the freedom to do so formed a sub culture of their own. Faiths 'slaying makes you hungry and horney' seemed far more 'normal' for slayers than the Watchers Council's 'virgin to the grave' outlook.

"But her behaviour, the sudden change in, er, sexual orientation, how do you explain it?" The former librarian asked.

"We have been checking Mr Harris's research, and this appears quite natural for slayers. It would appear that Slayers simply need sex the way they need food, in greater amounts and varieties than one would expect." Gwendoline watched the older of the two men squirm uncomfortably, but clearly accept the truth laid out before him. A father is normally uncomfortable with the idea of his daughter and sex, and Giles was more of a father to Buffy than Hank Summers had ever been. "Which is why Buffy has been drawn to non-human lovers, only they can even partly keep up with her needs in a monogamous relationship. And why she had become more and more miserable over the years, and why Council slayers normally die so young, being too closely watched and brainwashed even to masturbate, they deteriorate and become vulnerable."

"You make it sound like a medical condition." Xander commented. The witch was also a medical specialist of some kind, which was why she specifically had been sent. She had performed a medical on Buffy and Faith, and compared the results to the one done by at the request of Faiths employer's months earlier as part of the lavish medical insurance they provided all the demon fighters now. "What did your tests show?"

"A series of major hormone imbalances, with stress and blood pressure levels that would have killed both Slayers eventually. Faith's has been corrected and Buffy's are improving rapidly." And embarrassed smile from the woman in front of them. "Actually we obtained before and after sex readings from them, and there was a measurable improvement."

Faith and Willow's bedroom, Summers House that night.

They had finished watching the videodisk of that memorable Monday night in the playroom. Faith had been proud to be part of Buffy's 'coming out', and as long as the video stayed strictly among them it was not a problem. What had been more of a cause for thinking had been Xanders news about the slayers interesting hormone problem, and its cure. Apparently Buffy had been keeping the United States sex toy industry profitable almost by herself for the last few years, but it was still no substitute for a good man and a few very good women.

"Just think of me as part of your health and fitness program." Willow smiled at her girlfriend, and snuggled up closer to her. She was nearing the end of her pregnancy, and only the two of them could really fit into the bed, where three had been routine before. The sound of massed shotguns at maximum rate of fire sounded in the distance, followed by the faint sound of Red Team singing their victory song. It was a normal night in Sunnydale, with the RRT teams having multiplied beyond the ability of the slayers to accompany them all. The more experience teams were operating alone now, rotating the slayers through the teams seemed the way to go in future.

"After the baby is born it will all change again, of course."

"As long as I have you I can handle anything. I love you Willow."

*****

Faith Wilkins place of employment, Sunday morning.

John Smith, the imaginatively named head of the Sunnydale branch of Harvey, Norman and Bates Accounting, looked at the television picture and sighed. It showed the gutted remains of the Wolfram & Hart building in Los Angeles, as would any other channel he turned to. No one had made it out, the entire building full of people had died there and it was international news as a major disaster/terrorist incident. He had no proof, of course, without speaking to the man, but his assumption was that his ally in Smallville had decided that an enemy with all its potential targets in one building was too tempting to pass up.

All the Senior Partners had been attending a meeting on the top floor when the exits had electronically sealed and VX nerve gas had flooded the building through the air conditioning system. No one with a will to live wanted to look less than eager to the Senior Partners, so the whole Wolfram and Hart staff had been in their offices at the time. A fire of as yet unexplained intensity had then broken out, ignored by the building fire fighting system. The computer back up information, stored elsewhere, was destroyed the same way at the same time. One of the major threats to human civilization, and therefore the Karnak race's standard of living, could be downgraded to zero threat potential for the moment.

"Mr Smith, do you want me to go after whoever did this?" Faith Wilkins asked, not having had any explanation of her bosses suspicions or why she had been called in at this early hour of a Sunday. She could only conclude, incorrectly, that her slayer services were needed. "Have the Elders decided that even those guys didn't deserve this?"

"Actually it is felt that they got off lightly. Every one of them volunteered to serve the cause of the First Evil, and is therefore as legitimate a target as any vampire." Choosing the right person to send on this mission had been fairly easy, through a process of elimination. First it had to be someone who already believed what he had just said to Faith, and therefore it could not be one of the 'we can't kill humans' Scoobies. That really only left Xander Harris and the dark slayer. "I want you to go to Smallville, Kansas, and learn if a supporter of the cause who is based there did this. You will understand this is too delicate a matter to entrust to possibly bugged electronic communications."

"Who were these guys, and why me?"

"They were the First Evils personal law firm, and you are needed because the alternative is Mr Harris, who would be a suspect in this himself if he had the available resources. Also as a representative of Mr Luthors' accountants you have an obvious cover story that a small time California building contractor does not." Faith could not really argue with the logic of this, after her sex toys response when Scully had mentioned her contention that, faced with the threat of awakening Acathla, her brother would have nuked Sunnydale. The rest of the Scoobs had been horrified, Xander had said, quietly, 'well what else would you expect him to do?' "You will be flying to Metropolis at noon, and a rental car will be waiting for you for the drive to Smallville. You are expected, and will stay in Mr Luthor's Castle for however long is needed."

"Castle?"

"Yes, his father had it shipped in stone by stone from Scotland, apparently. You did bring an overnight case, as asked, didn't you? Mr Luthor will supply any needs you have for a longer stay, any needs at all." And with that the discussion went into the details of what to ask and what to do.

Casa Summers, Tuesday morning, Willow and Faith's room

Willow Rosenburg woke up without her girlfriend again. It was the third morning in a row this had happened, if you included Sunday, which she did. Phone calls and email did not make up for her beloved's absence, but she did her best not to be a nagging wife. WIFE? Where did that come from? When had she started thinking of her former enemy as her one and only? It was obvious when she thought about it.

It was Tara's visitation to the gang, of course, that had been the turning point. She had made it clear that she WANTED Willow to find a new love, that it would all work out when they arrived in heaven, 'that is why it's called heaven, because everything works out', was how her late lover had phrased it. Buffy, who had also had a visitation, had started talking about her time in paradise, trying to explain what was only understandable to someone who had actually been there.

Sometimes she tried to think what it would eventually be like with her, Tara and Faith together in heaven, and that inevitably led to explosive sex with whoever of the gang was handy. At first she had been nervous about explaining this fantasy to Faith, for fear the slayer would feel threatened, feel she was competing with a ghost. Faith had responded with an elaborately detailed version of the same dream, resulting in a threesome, with Anya doing a surprisingly good impersonation of Tara. The red heads dead girlfriend had visited the demon too, and coached her on it when the fantasies of the other two women had started running in the same direction.

"But now I miss my Faith." She mumbled, feeling Xander's arm curled over her and cupping her right breast. It was good to have her oldest friend here to comfort her and attend the Lamaze classes. But it was different with the accountant so far away, attending to 'delicate negotiations with an important client', and apparently wearing out said client with her sexual demands. Faith's exaggerated slayer sexual needs had not gone away, and the tales of her exploits in the small town would probably be being retold there for generations. Willow felt good about that, that the woman she loved was having as good a time as she could while still missing her.

The alarm went off, it was 6.30 and Xander had to go to work today. Sleepily he reached for the alarm, fumbling around until finally he turned it off. Then he snuggled up closer to his pregnant friend, ready to go back to sleep. The alarm would go off again in five minutes, and then every five minutes until 7.30, his actual wake up time. He preferred it this way, as a child he had had a series of alarm clocks set to different times which produced the same effect.

Lex Luthor's bedroom, also Tuesday morning.

"So, how did you meet Clark?"

Both Faith and the bald man liked to talk after sex, it was one of many things they had in common. Faith included a strong possibility of turning to the dark side in that, and would warn her boss in no uncertain terms about it. Lex had grown up with his father's attempts to shape his character, and the elder Luthor reminded her strongly of the prison gang bosses she had met, but without the prison survival imperative driving them. Cutthroat competition was only a phrase in his world, and she had only contempt for people who thought they were tough because they could and did ruin thousands of lives with a phone call to close a plant. Lex had exactly one friend in the world, who was also his only source of conventional moral guidance, the aforementioned Clark Kent.

"He saved my life when I ran my Porsche off a bridge." Faith had heard the story already, from a proud Jonathan Kent, during a visit to see the Kent's newest adopted child, Jeff Kent, aka William Scully. Lex had made up some story about changing his produce order, and wanting to see Jeff, which second part was perfectly true. The billionaire was curious why she kept after details about Clark. "Why do you ask?

"What species is he?"

"WHAT?"

She was suddenly gripped by a fully alert and clearly alarmed Lex Luthor, who was looking her in the eyes with a terrible focus.

"Well he's clearly not human, he just looks like one. As a slayer I like to know these things, I mean, he's obviously a good guy demon but I have never got this exact vibe before and I'm curious." The dark slayer understood she had made her first really major mistake of the mission, simply through relaxing too much. The man in bed with her was allied to the Karnak Demons against various threats, and knew about vampires and demons and werewolves of my, vampires and demons and werewolves, so she had subconsciously felt free to relax and talk openly. "If it sounded like a threat or something sorry, its just a professional reflex to keep up with this stuff."

"Clark isn't human. That's his secret, he's not human" Lex was stunned, and agitated, getting out of bed and walking to the bar fridge. He took out a bottle of Bollinger Champaign and some strawberries, then poured them both a drink, and sat the fruit on the table next to the slayer. Faith was really struck by it as a display of wealth, that when feeling the need for a stiff drink this man reached for the best French bubbly and strawberries, not the cheap scotch of anyone else she had known. "Why didn't he tell me, I'm his friend, why didn't he tell me?"

"Humans tend to react badly to finding out someone is a demon, even the Scooby gang back in Sunnydale, who know a few good demons, have a We Cannot Kill Humans policy. They kill demons like they kill bacteria, no emotion at all, no loss of sleep, but even the most evil of humans is supposed to be immune. The kid's probably terrified of anyone finding out, of losing his perfect family." And the Kent's were so perfect, so wholesome middle America it was hard to believe. Then, of course, there were Clarks school friends, people like Chloe Sullivan and Lana Lang, girls who's darkest secret seemed to be thinking he was cute without having the nerve to tell him. "Pa Kent reminds me a little of the Mayor of Sunnydale, and I nearly sold my soul for his friendship when I was Clarks age. For you and the Kent's and his school pals, I would have, and thought I got a bargain."

Lex slugged down a second glass and poured a third, then helped himself to another strawberry. Clearly he was thinking about it all and if this was his version of breaking down and hitting the bottle, which it clearly was, then he seriously needed a life. Faith had told him enough of her past that the explanation did not come as a shock, and he had told her of the whole 'club zero' nightmare. They both had dark pasts they were embarrassed about, that they wanted to keep present friends from knowing or thinking about.

He was the only person she had ever spoken to about the pure joy and exhilaration she had felt when killing people for the Mayor. It had actually amounted to a few dozen people, she had not bothered to even remember exactly. Each time was the purest pleasure, the most amazing high, it made the joy of vampire slaying feel like digging weeds by comparison. Faith knew all about people who were as bad as the worst vampire, because she had been one. Both she and Lex understood that was why she was here, and that Lex needed help to keep from going the same way. Currently all he had was the friendship of a seventeen year old of unknown species, and it wasn't enough.

"Lex, before you get completely tanked, we need to agree on some things. One, you did do the Wolfram and Hart thing, right?"

"Abso fragging lutely damnit!" Said the bald man with the Babylon 5 obsession.

"Two, we take things slowly on the checking out what Clark is situation, because we might scare him off and the world needs more people who's hobby seems to be saving other people's lives."

"Roger dodger."

"Three, you need to keep the mass murder thing under control 'cause, and I speak from experience, it's a terrible habit to have to break" "Only if you agree to be my liaison with the Elders." The second bottle was nearly empty, It was five in the morning and Faith had only had two glasses. Lex now had a handful of strawberries in one hand and his full glass in the other, and still looked James Bond cool.

"Only if I can bring Willow and the baby next time, and you provide the baby sitter."

"Zathras is used to being beast of other peoples burdens. Is sad life, probably sad death, but still, there is symmetry."

"I'll take that as a yes. Four, when you start quoting Zathras you either need to stop watching your Babylon 5 dvd's or make friends with Xander, because he is the only other person I know who does that."

"We can fly the whole group out in my private jet, it's a 767." Then his features brightened. "I can have a B5 marathon with Xander, I have never done that with anyone else there!"

The former psycho slut slayer felt resigned to a long slow campaign to save Lex's soul. That much was certain. Maybe they could bring Mulder and Scully out too, as long as they promised not to break down when they saw William/Jeff and terrify the Kent's. She would be sleeping with her precious Willow tonight, and that made any amount of random Zathras quoting acceptable.

Chapter 3

The Magic Box upstairs conference room, 5.30pm Friday,

Mulder, Scully, Xander and Willow were sitting around just drinking coffee and eating apple and cinnamon rolls. The investigation they had been asked to undertake had provided a lot of fascinating information that, unfortunately, was not necessarily relevant to the case. They had learned why Xander was different, but not why people fixated on his apparent normality under strange circumstances and thought reasonable behaviour was abnormal. Since those fixations were the point of the investigation they had written up a preliminary report to Angel over the last few days and sent it off by courier an hour before. Now they were decompressing a little before going back into things if asked.

"So, you guys were working together for nine years, when did you become an item?" Willow asked.

"In what sense?" Mulder responded.

"In the sense of when did you realise you were in love?" Xander clarified.

"You tell her Scully, you tell it so well." Mulder said, smiling at Scully, who looked extremely nervous at the idea. Actually she had a strange mixture of emotions running over her face. It was a story she found a little embarrassing, as it related to a time when she was convinced she was in denial, about many things. It had been a turning point in both her and Mulders lives, and perhaps these people, who had had so many revelations in their lives recently, could learn from it, about the dangers of not accepting who you are and what you want.

"Ok, the story begins after Mulder had been turned into a human/alien hybrid and then turned back again. A few months later but anyway things had been going well, and then gone very, very badly." Emergency ward, Washington Hope Hospital, 2.15 am Sunday

Dana Scully stood in the hospital waiting room, and, well, waited. Mulder was still being examined, and while she was a qualified doctor, she was in no emotional state to be part of it. Everyone who examined him immediately assumed he had been captured and tortured, and told her how lucky he was to have a partner like her to not only rescue him but provide professional care until the ambulance arrived.

"Agent Scully, thank god you found him in time, from what the doctors say any more of the treatment he received might have killed him." It was Assistant Director Skinner, obviously rushed out of bed at this ungodly hour to see to his agents. He was being as consoling as he could, talking about the full investigation of this incident he would launch, and how this time 'they' had gone too far. He believed the lie.

Or perhaps, not a total lie. Mulder really had been whipped, beaten and subjected to as many instruments of pain as an inventive mind could imagine. The lie was in the assumption of who did it. It was not Krycek, or the cigarette smoking man, or an alien/consortium experiment team that had tortured her partner for hours, torn him up so badly. She had done it, because she thought it might be fun and exciting.

Many people thought Mulder and Scully were in love, and had been for years. After all, how many people would go to central Antarctica, by using god knows how many favours, bribes, threats, and lies, to follow up a claim his partner, Scully, was there? Mulder had, and then Scully had chased off to Africa after a ghost of a lead when he was in a mental hospital, in hopes of curing him. They had gone so far above and beyond the call of duty for each other so often it had to be love, right?

Actually, no, it didn't have to be. It was both more than that and less, Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully thought, as she drank her coffee, cold so that at least the terrible flavour was reduced. Mulder had come closest to describing it, they were not complete human beings alone, they were two halves of a soul, each incomplete without the other. They had been sex partners from almost the first day, sharing and acting out their most secret fantasies freely, well before they had even really been friends. They were far, far, far too weird a pair to ever be just secret lovers.

"We have to try to maintain a professional relationship Scully." Mulder had said, after sex on an early case. She had come to his room to talk about the case, and, as usual, they had had sex. Their best work was done after sex, they always discussed the present case so much better under those circumstance. "I think that is how the rule is phrased, 'maintain a professional relationship'."

"Ok Mulder, so I charge you for it, how does $20 a time sound?" Scully still remembered saying. And she meant it, she would be able to look Skinner in the eye and say 'we have a totally professional relationship' if she was prostituting herself to him. It would even be legally accurate, just not true.

She could enjoy the sex that way, god alone knows she could enjoy someone wanting her for her body for a change. She was a woman who had been admired for her brain rather than lusted after for her body all her life. Always older men with power and authority, who had respected her and asked her advice as an advisor as much as hungered for her body. Men closer to her age were always intimidated by her brains, until Mulder. She was hungry for cock, just some mindless fucking from a young guy with stamina and an imagination.

Scully had gotten what she wanted, a good friend, a professional relationship and sex in any way and at any time she wanted. Katherine, her whore persona, was available to Mulder any time they were not on public show. Their lives revolved around their duty, woke each other up in the middle of the night with any idea or request that was work related, so off duty time was basically only when they were sleeping or at least in bed.

Katherine could take pleasure as her duty, her own and Mulders. He was her sole 'client', she was 'on call' at all times Scully was not. She did not want explanations or justifications beyond Mulder needing a woman. He could and did just walk in while she was working on a report, push her onto the motel bed and start pleasuring himself with her body. The no-talk, no explanations fucking allowed Scully to shut down her mind, the only way she had. There are many different methods of meditation, which suit different personalities. Being Katherine was Scully's, that was all.

Has Mulder been doing this all these years because he wanted to help me meditate? Did he allow me to whip him into the emergency ward because he thought it would allow me to relax? The short answer was, of course, yes. Mulder had agreed to Katherine's experiment with Sado-masochism, to being on the receiving end, and had not breathed the 'safety word' right up to whatever point he passed out from pain. How long was he unconscious before I realised, how far gone was I that I did not even notice?

"Scully, are you alright?" She turned to see The Lone Gunmen watching her anxiously. She really didn't need the stress right now, didn't need to invent a story about what she had been doing that weekend and how she had 'found' Mulder after deciding to investigate his 'disappearance.' They had gone to an isolated hut for the privacy, she had not wanted nosy neighbours calling the police about any 'strange sounds' they might hear. If they had maybe Mulder would not be in surgery right now, and Scully's career would probably be over. Mulder will get better Scully, he can take a lot.

Assistant Director Skinner's Office, 7.35am Monday morning

Eventually she had gone to see Skinner, like going to visit your executioner to discus what axe he should cut your head off with. It was only early morning, she was his first appointment. He had been planning out who to call to get the manhunt for Mulder's 'torturer', and was really worked up about it. She half expected him to shoot or arrest her on the spot, but she said it anyway.

"Mulder wasn't kidnapped and tortured by Krycek, or anyone else. I wanted to try S & M and he agreed to let me be the dominant." Skinner was staring at her with his eyes bugging out, the blood running out of his face rapidly. Scully had been fortifying herself with the knowledge that as a doctor she could get other work. That assumed she was not going to be killed right here in the Assistant Directors office, which seemed increasingly likely. "I guess I got carried away."

"You GUESS you got carried away." She had never seen Skinner's face that shade of red before, or the veins in his neck bulge out like this. And then there was the tone of his voice... "Your ACTIONS put him in intensive care, do you know how many MAJOR PLAYERS are currently involved in this? Everyone from The Consortium to UFO conspiracy organizations to several foreign intelligence services, that's who."

"Foreign intelligence organizations?" Agent Scully could barely hear her own voice.

"Mulder actually had a lot of success convincing honest, patriotic individuals in government that we are covering up experiments with alien technology and genetics." The Assistant Director ran his hand over his head. He was calming down, explaining the situation was focusing him away from his anger. "It's just unfortunate that those individuals were all in foreign countries that could never be included in a cold war era conspiracy. Russia, South Africa, North Korea, Poland..."

"Poland, Poland has spies following the X-Files?"

"The licensing rights to any of the alien technologies could underight rebuilding their whole economy. And apparently they always had a world class bunch of spooks, small country surrounded by hostile major powers and all that."

The red headed agent was feeling confused about a lot of things, including whether to be angry that her sexual appetites were going to be in international intelligence briefings, or that the North Korean government seemed to respect her and Mulders investigative powers more than the United States Senate. Or that the only political elites that did not sell out the human race were the ones who never got the opportunity.

"So, for how long were you lying to me about you and Mulder's relationship?"

"I never lied to you sir, I said we have a totally professional relationship, which, since I never had sex with Mulder without charging him money, was literally true."

"You think that prostituting yourself to your partner is within bureau guidelines?" The AD was going through a series of changes of expression and emotion, anger, humour, outrage, acceptance, and more ran over his face as he slumped into his seat. "Special Agent Dana Katherine Scully, in your professional medical opinion, ARE YOU NUTS?!?"

"Agent Mulder never saw any difficulty with our arrangement either sir, and his..."

"His sanity was always doubtful, and he would do anything for you, hell he just let you torture him and you know how he can't stand pain." The AD interrupted her, back to plain old-fashioned rage now. Actually she hadn't realised he had a problem with pain, he had endured so much ... endured, yes of course, poor, dear, guilt stricken Mulder would endure anything for her, she certainly would for him after all.

"I will have to go over this with legal advisors, but you are on indefinite medical leave starting now."

"Medical leave, sir?"

"You're crazy as a bedbug Scully. Incontestably bugfuck, in my non professional opinion." An FBI approved psychiatrists office, later that week

"So tell me in your own words, Agent Scully, what you think of your relationship with Fox Mulder."

"Well I think the ass fucking is the best part, particularly when there is no warning. We always have two rooms, FBI accounting and all that, and I love it when he just walks in and helps himself." Scully warmed to the subject immediately, not noticing the stunned look on the shrinks face. "It's just so good to get to my room and suddenly feel a man behind me push me down and force his cock into my tight ass, no 'Hello Scully' or any of that, just a major assreaming that hurts like fire at the time and is painful for days after, Mulder has a really big dick and sometimes I bleed for a long time after, it just hurts so good, though a few times he says it wasn't him, so probably it was just some guy who ..."

"I meant your overall relationship, work, that sort of thing."

"Have you read our medical files?" The agent was concerned that trying to explain the X-Files would have her committed in a straight jacket. How to explain their relationship without talking about alien abduction, fluke men, shape shifting bounty hunters, and the cigarette smoking man. "Because if you have not, it will be impossible to understand us if you have not."

Scully had, of course, visited her partner at every allowed visiting time. He was coming along well, in his specialist's opinion. There would be permanent scaring on his back, of course, but it would simply be a more spectacular example of what was already there. There should be no loss of motor functions or feeling in any part of his body. Of course, he was still too doped up to talk to her. His improvement was all that allowed her to sleep, or avoid Skinner bringing charges against her. He had not specified what she could actually be charged with, just 'I WILL THINK OF SOMETHING'.

"Yes Agent Scully, I have read your medical files, and Assistant Director Skinner has given me a summary of your work on the X-Files." The psychiatrist was a large woman with a quiet voice, and Scully wondered if it was deliberately done that was so as not to risk exciting the dangerous loon in the office with her. She fought the urge to laugh, was she that far into Mulder's paranoia or was her imagination totally out of control? "Given all that has happened to you over the years it is not surprising that you have developed a, shall we call it an unusual stress release mechanism?"

Unusual stress release mechanism, well what was unusual about it? Scully thought hard about it, really why was she unusual ? Ok, so she was a federal agent who investigates alien abductions, vampires, liver eating immortal mutants... Ok so if you throw in artificially induced cancer, being abducted myself - possibly by aliens & a vast international conspiracy - my sisters murder and some of the other things maybe she was under unusual stress.

But really, what was so unusual about sex as stress relief? And keeping Katherine and Scully totally separate just made so much sense really, they were different parts of her life, after all. She tried to explain this to her psychiatrist, who nodded and took notes, expression carefully neutral. Occasionally she asked a question, "And how did Agent Mulder respond to this, rather unusual, request?" was about the extent or it. What was so unusual, the chicken feathers had come off eventually, after all, and so what if nipple clamps aren't usually attached to ...

"I said, Agent Scully, that I think we should continue this next time, I have quite enough for today." Still the neutral tone and expression, looking somewhat forced with the pale complexion, she hadn't been this pale at the start of the session, had she. Actually, Dr Taylor seemed to be rather more pale at the finish than at the end of every session with Scully, which was rather odd.

Assistant Director Skinner's office

"I assure you, this was not my doing, and a full investigation is being conducted into the matter." C.G.B Spender, a.k.a Cancerman, aka the Cigarette smoking man, was smoking, this time with rage as well as Morley's. That he was here, with Krycek, trying to assure Scully and Skinner of their good intentions, was a measure of the infamy of the whole 'Mulder torture Affair'. That and the number of bodies turning up in the Potomac showing evidence of 'aggressive interrogation'. "Now I need to know why the FBI is putting so little effort into discovering who kidnapped and tortured one of its Agents. Or do you already know the identity of the sadistic bastard who so brutally..."

Spender stopped talking as he noticed the looks on the two FBI members faces, that and the way Scully had her hand part way up, like a naughty child facing an angry school principal. She had the nervous apprehension of the guilty child and Skinner the defensive parent look.

"Yes, agent Scully, do you have something to tell me?" Cancerman spoke in a tone amazingly reminiscent, to Scully, of her principal, Sister Maria, dealing with a schoolyard incident. She controlled the impulse to suggest to him that, perhaps, he had gone into the wrong line of work.

"Agent Mulder was not kidnapped and tortured by anyone."

"Then perhaps you can explain why he is in hospital looking like a victim of the Gestapo?"

"We were playing and I guess I got carried away?" Scully said with a sheepish expression on her face. The sheer embarrassment of the situation came through in her downcast look and tone. "Looking back on it my relationship with Agent Mulder may not be as healthy and balanced as I have always felt."

"Well Christ Scully, if that's how you treat a lover I'm damn glad you never got to work on me!" Krycek commented, fear and amazement in his tone. After all, he was someone she really had a hatred of, and a real reason to try to break that way. "You'll never take me alive, that's for sure."

The same office, later

"Agent Scully, that was the most embarrassing incident of my adult life." AD Skinner was sitting back in his chair, a glass mug of Sangria in his hand. It was from the same jug that she was drinking from. Ingredients for Sangria, chilled red wine, cinnamon, fruit, and ice, had been taken from a small office refrigerator where they were kept on hand for after visits from Spender. "If you ever put me through anything like that again I will personally dump your bullet riddled body into the Potomac."

"I will be sure to keep that in mind sir." Scully, who, like Skinner, had downed her first mug in one gulp, responded. Sangria tastes like a fruit drink, but it is still red wine after all, and drinking wine by the beer jug has predictable effects. With their second drinks mostly gone, the jug was emptying rapidly, and neither would be of much use for anything else today. "Perhaps I should have detailed more of My and Mulder's relationship, it would clarify what happened, or at least why."

"I think you have supplied enough blackmail material for one day, don't you?" He was looking through his mug at her, seeing her change shape and colour through the facets of the glass and the drink. "Although after the explanation of the geese and where they pecked their food from I don't see how many details could be left."

"I got the idea from Procopius, you know The Secret History, it has details of what the Byzantine Empress Theodora did for a living when she met the future emperor Justinian II." She was proud of her acquired historical knowledge, as a physics and Medicine student she was constantly kidded by the Arts students about having a narrow education. "I wanted to see if really put on a show like that, and what it would feel like. I am a scientist after all, it was a very important experiment."

"You will be the death of me yet Scully." Mulders Hospital room, that evening

"Hi Scully, glad to see you're alright." Mulder seemed genuinely concerned, and a lot better than during her last visit. Of course, he was conscious now, always a big plus in the health stakes. The red head had been convinced he would hate, or at least fear her, after all she had not been harmed in any way.

"I'm fine Mulder." Her standard response, though she was far from ok. Putting her closest friend and lover in this place by losing control worried her deeply. They were supposed to be having fun, he was not supposed to be enduring torture for her benefit alone. "Mulder, why did you fail to use the safety word, did you forget it?"

"You were having fun, I didn't have the heart to stop you. I won't be volunteering for this again though." He sounded apologetic but firm, he had never refused Katherine anything but there are always limits. Being Katherine had been a part of there relationship from the beginning, and often fun for him too. But he had been doing it for her benefit, and what had happened in the cabin was in no-one's best interest. "Scully, you have a serious anger management problem, and a different form of therapy than 'Katherine and client' is obviously necessary."

Some people forgot that Mulder was a psychologist, and, arguably, the best that had ever worked for the Violent Crimes Unit. The man looking up at Dana Scully from the hospital bed was in full psych analysis mode, very focused. Having his attention was like staring into an industrial laser or possibly looking at a starving Leopard that was locked in a cage with you. It was very easy to remember Fox Mulder the Profiler under these circumstances.

"Why did you play my games all these years Mulder, looking back on it some of it has to have been unpleasant for you? What have I ever done for you that justified it all?" She had been thinking about it ever since calling 911. The more she thought about it the worse her previous behaviour seemed, and the more remorse she felt. Is Skinner right, am I nuts?

"Your my Scully, that justify's it. And don't think that sex with you was just a duty, you are absolutely sensational when you don't have a horsewhip in your hand." Smiling now, the dark haired man was doing his best to be disarming, in a 'relax, while the nice men in the white coats fit the straight jacket' way. Clearly he believed what he was saying, but by the same token he was watching her reaction to everything, modifying his verbal and non verbal responses appropriately.

"So, how can I possibly apologise for what I did to you?"

"You know me Scully, what do you think?"

"I've told you before Mulder, a threesome at Area 51 requires a higher security clearance than either of us will ever have. Besides, how do you know there are female test pilots flying Air Force UFO's?" The Lone Gunmen's Office, 11am the next day

"Anyway that's why you have to help kill this story." The group were staring at her like she was crazy, not an unreasonable diagnosis really. Frohike was doing a reasonable job of controlling his drooling. Langly and Byers seemed more stunned than anything else, that seemed to be a standard reaction to the tale. "So, will you help?"

"Your telling us that the greatest government cover-up story since Roswell is really just you playing S & M games that got out of hand. Do you expect us to believe this, what are you covering up yourself Scully, how did they get to you?" This was the big problem with dealing with paranoid's, everything was a conspiracy.

"Well how do you expect me to prove it, bring in all my bondage and discipline gear and demonstrate on someone?"

"Well it might prove necessary, strictly in the interest of investigative journalism of course." Frohike said, predictable to the end. "And we may have to ask you to demonstrate that thing with the geese, where did you get them from anyway?"

"Melvin, Katherine did that for her reasons. I was always Scully, she was celibate, and I think Mulder is right, Katherine has to stop not being Scully before Dana winds up in a straight jacket. Anyway we only did S&M once, the equipment was borrowed from, hmm, lets call her a close friend."

"I think we should confirm your story with Mulder before taking action." Said Byers, clearly trying to be diplomatic, and not making too bad a job of it for someone with so little experience. The rather interesting expression on Scully's face when she described the equipment loaner's relationship to her and Mulder stirred more than the investigative journalist in him, but he controlled himself. "You have never lied to us before and none of us want to hurt a trusted friend, we don't have any to spare." Mulders hospital room, 7pm

The man who had been her only friend and confidant for many years looked up at the short red head with a smile closer to his normal self. He lay on his back, which was the first time she had seen him able to do that since the session in the cabin. Holding her hand as she sat next to him, he first thought was that it was like old times, except she was not in the hospital bed next to his. Her second thought was concern that her nostalgic memories were of waking up in hospitals next to her closest friend after nearly dieing.

"We have to stop meeting like this, people are getting suspicious." Mulder said in his best movie cliché adulterer imitation voice. "Or at least paranoid as hell."

"While we're on the subject, I spoke to the gunmen this morning, they want to confirm with you before killing the 'Shock, Horror, Gasp, Mulder tortured and Government covers it up' story."

Scully felt better at the sight of her partner, at the feel of his hand and the simple fact that he was near. 'No, I'm not hopelessly in love with him, whatever gave you that idea' ran through her head as she really noticed the effect for the first time. She wondered how long she had been ignoring the signals, how long she had been in denial.

Mulders' devotion to her, his willingness to endure anything for her happiness, had come clearly into focus since 'the cabin', but her reciprocal feelings were still a surprise. Well, a surprise to her anyway, she wondered about all the people who had assumed they were in love all these years, and how they felt when she always denied it. Did they think she was lying or naive?

"Mulder, I've been thinking and you're right, I have to stop separating Katherine from Scully. Special agent Dana Katherine Scully is one woman not two, and Scully needs to have a love life." Her partner was watching her as she spoke, clearly wondering where this was headed. He had first raised the concept at her last visit the previous morning, before her promised visit to the gunmen. Was she going to cut off from him now, it might even be in her best interest, if a radical change, but it would wound him deeply. "That mean Mulder and Scully have to start doing what Katherine and her client have been doing. Among other things."

"Gee Scully, let me get out of hospital before putting me back in the saddle." He said with a grin, and because that damn saddle would hurt his back, it usually did even without the injury.

The Magic Box, 7pm

"And that's how we decided to start trying to be a normal couple, despite the FBI rules."

"What was that thing with the Geese anyway?" Xander asked,

"Well Xander, it was..."

*****

The Hyperion Hotel, late morning.

One of the advantages of being dead is that it is hard for your health to become any worse. Having been dead for a few hundred years was starting to look more and more like an advantage to Angel, because otherwise he would be a prime heart attack risk, given the stress he was under. Courtesy of the patented vampire unbeating heart he did not have high blood pressure to blow out blood vessels, which, given the situation he was now in, would have been inevitable.

"Willow had a son, 8lb 6oz, named Jacob Thomas Rosenburg, at 3.15am this morning. Mother and baby are doing well." Cordelia was looking at the email, she had first to hear the news in a phone call from Giles, but reading about it made it more real. She had been sitting staring at the message for hours now, occasionally reading it out loud, and kept mumbling variations on a limited number of themes. The whole post 'Faith, certified psycho slut, returns as a Certified Public Accountant' experience had thrown her severely, she had spent the last few months muttering comments on it all. "Xander is going to be father to Willows baby."

"Tark."

"No Angel, Cordelia, Cor-De-Li-A." The brunette said, speaking slowly and pointing at herself.

"No, Xander has agreed to be Tark, the male parent, as defined by the Karnak elders." The difference was important to Angel, given the condition the Karnak had put on the construction manager. Only he and Xander of the group knew, since a negative reaction to the demon Accountants 'screw this up and you die' announcement was anticipated from the Slayerettes. "The Karnak apparently made some kind of deal with him about it, and it's important to him. Though 'daddy' is ok, I asked." The youngest Harris had always

willing to die to protect others, willing to do anything, ANYTHING AT ALL, to protect others actually, which was one of the worrying things about him. That the moral balance of the Scooby Gang was being partially set by Faith - who received a joy from killing even Angelus would find scary - and Xander - whose response to the nerve gassing and incineration of several thousand people in the Wolfram and Hart building had been to suggest a victory party - concerned him deeply. It was like the official police involvement in demon hunting on the hellmouth, the idea was scary, since the Powers That Be seemed obsessed with maintaining a balance between good and evil that it clearly upset, and yet exhilarating, because the balance was being tipped in favour of WINNING, and maintaining a balance that killed so many innocent people depressed him terribly.

"Ok Angel, tell me that Loser Boy sleeping with Buffy doesn't upset you. Look me in the eyes and say it, I DARE YOU." The ascended one of the pair said, her eyes boring into him. The term 'upset' seemed a little bit of an understatement about how he had initially reacted to the news, given that replacing the broken furniture had meant redecorating the hotels lower floor. "Tell me that finding out that he is a reject from a genetic re-engineering project who is fucking all the female Slayerettes except Dawn, and independently wealthy, and apparently so good at his work that he would be a multimillionaire from his own efforts by 25 even without the Karnak money doesn't burn you up."

"Not as much as it does you, apparently." The broody one responded. Partly it was just that Angel did not MIND being angry about it, it protected his soul from the joy he felt about the blonde slayer finally being happy and having her life expectancy improved. With the Slayers now acting as a small part of an increasingly efficient and well-armed police anti demon force they might even live to have their own children. No Slayer had ever lived to do that, in at least Watcher Council records, though the older Karnak records suggested it used to be perfectly normal. "Or is it the fact that you are the only remaining female heterosexual Scooby left that's getting to you?"

"Well you have to admit it's suspicious. The fashion reject is living the life he probably fantasized about since puberty, we both know that watching girls with girls is top of the male fantasy list." The only guys who had not at least mentioned it to her were the ones she had not dated long enough to discuss sex with. Even Angel had mentioned it, but he had never had the opportunity to do anything with her because of the... "Angel, I just realized something."

"That pro wrestling is faked?"

"No silly, that as an ascended being I can make your soul permanent."

"YOU'VE HAD THIS POWER FOR MONTHS AND JUST REALIZED IT!" The non-existent blood pressure problem would have killed a human at this point. "Hey, the powers don't come with a manual, no one tells you anything it's really annoying." And really, how hard could it be to create an introductory video, 'You and your new powers, how to get the most out of being a higher being' seemed like a reasonable title, if a little long. Spielburg would be able to handle it, no problem at all. "I have to go upstairs and check with the PTB, and I'll be back.

The quarter millennia old vampire stared at the empty seat where his assistant had sat and thought about what he was being offered. He had not had sex since Buffy on 'the day that never happened' and for a being with the testosterone levels of a 20 something that was a long time. But having the soul secure meant so much more than that, it meant never again have to worry about accidentally becoming Angelus because he had a good time. Since having his soul restored it had been a constant background to his life, colouring everything he thought, felt and did. Suddenly the former Queen C was back.

"You forgot your clothes."

"I didn't want to waste time." The former cheerleader responded as she ripped his clothes off. Literally ripped, they were torn rags flung across the room as he was thrown to the floor. What was left of his rational mind hoped no potential clients walked in while they used the lobby floor this way. Then he was engulfed by a passionate Cordelia Chase, also celibate for some time, and thinking stopped.

The Hyperion Hotel, early evening.

"Damn, now that was an impressive performance." Charles Gunn announced. The couple who had occupied pride of place on the lobby floor all these hours had finally noticed the world around them, and gone off to shower and dress. "We've done it for longer plenty of times, and with more variety." Fred responded. No handcuffs or even yoghurt and honey mix, how could anyone stand such bland sex? "Yeah but ignoring us, two sets of clients AND three carloads of cops investigating noise complaints, that is impressive." Picking his way through the second set of broken furniture to litter the Hyperion ground floor during his stay here, the black man started the cleanup with the rags that were all that was left of his bosses clothing. He reminded himself not to get the former May Queen angry, tearing a leather jacket to rags like that took real strength.

"I wonder what the film from the lobby security cameras show, if they caught all the detail?" Fred mused, as she started leaning up the broken bits of furniture. She decided to change over the tapes herself immediately, there was a bank of them to capture a full days activity without wiping any of it, so putting new tapes into the system and keeping the 'action pictures' would be simple enough. She would arrange to have a talk with Cordelia about it later, some arrangement could be made, swapping the equivalent length of film of her and Charles should do it, after all she knew the camera's in their playroom captured every detail.

"I don't think the security cameras were designed with that in mind Fred." The former gang leader said. He loved her dearly but worried about her some times. "Well we can always get them to let us film them. Hey, that's an idea, we can do swaps and film each other so I can see your handsome face coming when I'm not distracted." The scientist of the pair was excited, finally someone to work the equipment, at last a chance to play some really interesting games and not have her robotic film direction system miss anything or use those over artistic camera angles. She should not have seen so many European art movies before programming it, the thing thought it was Fellini or something. "Faith and the Slayerettes too, this could be fun."

Willow And Faith's room, a few weeks later.

Faith watched Jacob sleep, awed by the experience. His tiny little hands, so perfectly formed, curled up on the blanket. His little face, so peaceful now, so capable of keeping all of them up and going when awake, was peaceful and rested. She was a mother now, or at least a mom, the exact status was not going to worry her. Willow was asleep, having handled the two o'clock feedings and most of the daytime. Xander always fed him first thing in the morning, changing him if, as usual, he needed it. It was strange to see someone who blossomed under responsibility as much as the male slayerette, most people she had known, her parents and even Buffy, had resented being stuck with inescapable duties.

And here was the Sunnydale High graduate voted 'most likely to die in a gutter as a wino' that thrived on it. His basic lack of self respect still inhibited him in situations like combat, where he was surrounded by people with greater skills and abilities. But in a situation where he had to take charge, where his duty to act was clear and organising for someone else's benefit was needed he was transformed. He needed to be needed, and Jake needed him.

The dark slayer watched her son and wife sleep, still getting used to both situations. Xander had married Willow in a Catholic Church, the Rabbi having been influenced by her parents into not allowing a Jewish wedding, while the priest had blessed their holy water and weapons for seven years and was honoured to help. The Vatican's opinion of the whole situation, marrying a man and woman when the woman had married another woman in a Wicca ceremony, would probably be very negative, actually excommunication was the term used, but Father O'Brien felt that representing God on the Mouth of Hell itself meant providing whatever guidance and comfort he could. His theological speculations on the meaning of it all were heresy, apparently.

Most employers would have a problem with her tendency to arrive late for work because she had watched her child sleep, but Harvey, Norman and Bates is not any accounting firm. The chroniclers of the Karnak race had weighed in on her side, arguing that the opportunity to record the thoughts and feelings of the first slayer with her own family for thousands of years justified a relaxed attitude. Little convincing was need by them, given that the End of Days was clearly coming soon and having the champions of the side of light argue in their favour would make all the difference, when the darkness failed, as prophecy said it would. So Faith arrived at her office, in her white Volvo station wagon, sat at her desk with the photo's of her child, wife and family, and read the note to go to the manager, Mr Smith's office, as soon as she went in.

Mr Smith's office, 10.30am

"Faith, good morning here is your ticket and mission file." The boss said without preamble. He was treating her with Karnak politeness, not asking her to justify being late and assuming she was ready to do her duty without unnecessary buttering up. To assume someone has to be persuaded to do their sworn duty has led to duels among them. "You are to go to Kansas and meet the Great and Powerful Oz." For a second the slayer did not know if she was being kidded, before she remembered where she was and who was talking to her. Images of herself dressed as Judy Garland, standing in a field holding a small dog and waiting for a tornado to transport her therefore faded quickly. Suspecting what she would find, she opened the file to find a photo of Oz, the werewolf/musician Willow had been in love with when Faith had first met her.

He was an important figure now, having done further research into controlling the wolf, and achieving a teachable control system. Any werewolf could learn, it did not require anything expensive or rare, just the development of a certain level of inner peace. As she sat in the back of the company car on the way to the airport, the ex-con contemplated the upcoming encounter. Oz had tried to kill the last woman he had found Willow involved with, Tara barely escaping with her life. He had left town not long after, clearly depressed by the loss of control involved but not actually having apologised to anyone for his actions.

"Well wolfboy, it looks like you have certainly come up in the world." she muttered to herself. Oz had gathered a huge amount of influence, having a semi-religious status among werewolves everywhere. Basically a Dali Lama type figure, he also seemed to be responsible for the shutting down of the werewolf pelt trade. The traders had been given a 'quit or die' warning, exactly once, and then been forcibly shut down. Very forcibly. Now he was a potential ally, in contact with Lex Luthor - actually originally discovered and contacted by Lex - and waiting for her in Smallville. Specifically waiting for her, Faith Wilkins Rosenburg, wife of Willow Rosenburg Wilkins, as his request for a meeting had described her. She sat back and thought, the nerves getting to her a little, then she started to sing. "I'm off to see the wizard, the wonderful wizard of Oz..."

*****

Lex Luthor's Castle, Smallville Kansas, early morning.

Lex Luthor was a man of many talents and interests. All right, so most of those talents were developed at the behest of, or in a vain attempt to win the approval of, his father Lionel, one of the most truly evil individuals on the planet. The older Luthor had never had any interest in his son except as his heir, and since his mothers death Lex had had only his fathers example to emulate, reject, or despise, at least until he met Clark Kent, the Dudley Doright of the orphaned alien set. The younger Luthor had never had any interest in having his own family, had not hung out with anyone who had children or wanted them except for reasons like his father, i.e., because it was a necessary part of the image.

So when it turned out that Lex Luthor, boy billionaire, ruthless businessman, and instigator of the Wolfram and Hart Massacre, had an uncanny ability to get crying babies to sleep it was enough of a shock that Chloe Sullivan started a 'Wall of Weird' investigation. Martha and Jonathan Kent were stunned to see Jeff, their newly adopted 1 year old, go from tantrum to smiling angel in the corporate predators arms. Clark, on the other hand, felt vindicated. He had been convinced there was something good in the purple clad one. Now he had something to use as evidence.

Faith Wilkins, Certified Public Accountant and Vampire Slayer, was feeling way out of her depth over the whole situation. She was back in Smallville at the request of her boss, to meet and try to 'bring on board' Oz, her wife's former boyfriend. The werewolf former boyfriend, who had responded to scenting Willow on her late girlfriend - though not dead at the time, being Sunnydale people had felt the need to clarify that to Faith - by trying to eat her alive in the halls of Sunnydale university. The former boyfriend who seemed to be some kind of werewolf Socrates, or maybe the Pope. Certainly the quiet little man had a world-wide army of werewolves that hung on his every utterance.

"Which is what's making me nervous, is it not?" The dark slayer commented to herself. She was lying next to Clark after the most energetic sex of her life. Getting the 'man of steel', as she labelled him due to his incredible sexual stamina, to come across with the goods had actually required some convincing. He was a Kansas farm boy, after all, excruciatingly naive about sex in the practical sense, and convinced he would get in serious trouble over this.

Eventually Oz had partially 'wolfed out', to demonstrate WHY they knew he was not human, that most of them were not either, and that Faith, as a slayer, really did need sex as a part of her health routine. 'Oh, like how everyone has to eat from the five basic food groups and exercise regularly', the small town lad had commented. He said it with such total honesty, -of COURSE everyone eats only what's good for them...-that she had mentioned it to Lex. "Do you know what the really scary part is Faith?" He of the multiple Italian sports cars had commented, in bed the previous morning. "No, what?" the woman wielding the feather boa and riding crop had responded.

"I don't doubt for a second that Clark actually means it. He really is principally concerned with your health, not getting laid or scarred of Chloe or Lana dumping him." Faith had listened to every word, while wondering what the maid would think of the Mango pulp smeared into the sheets.

It had taken work to get this far, but she was here now. And so was Clark. And Chloe. And Lana. Not all in the same bed, since even Lex did not have a bed big enough to sleep four comfortably as normal furnishings. Chloe had been the key, in the end, getting her to accept the 'Anyanka solution' had finally clinched the deal. Clark had been willing to help, but not in a mood for fun, until the dark slayer had given her the unpublishable scoop of the millennia.

Leaving out the little matter of Lex being responsible for the most famous 'terrorist attack' since 9/11 she had laid out, with Oz again as her demonstration model, the vampiredemonvampire Slayeralien invasion conspiracyGenetically modified super soldier nightmare. That the Karnak Elders had offered her a position as the first human to join their team of chroniclers also helped, they needed an independent investigation into whatever links there might be between it all. Faith's explanation that the red headed school newspaper editor could HAVE Clark, and everything else she had barely dared fantasize about, if she was willing to just TAKE CHARGE, had been accepted out of desperation.

Chloe knew Clark, he wanted to do the right thing, would not let Faith's health deteriorate because Lex was going to Nigeria on business. And she had always wanted to know what it was about sex with women that got men so hot and bothered. She could have everything or nothing, Clark Kent, a high paid job investigating most of the conspiracies in existence, and Lana Lang as, when and however she wanted, or sleep alone for years regretting her own cowardice. She chose.

The Luthor dining room, breakfast that day.

A certain awkwardness might have crept in after the events of the night before, except for some important facts. First, Faith was completely used to these sort of domestic arrangements, but not really much older, and her treating it as a comfortable routine helped. Second Chloe was playing her part right, having been coached by Faith and never having been afraid to speak her mind anyway. That what Faith had assumed would be the toughest part, getting Lana Lang into bed with Chloe, had been the easiest, was the biggest surprise. Whitney, Lana's former boyfriend, had talked about a threesome, Ms Lang had suggested Chloe, and 'negotiations' between the two women were ongoing when Chloe had thought she had no hope with Clark. With the former football star in the Marines it had only taken some persuasion from the slayer to make it happen.

"So, Clark, are you having fun this weekend?" The Alien had the biggest smile on his face Faith had seen since Xander's the night Anya had propositioned her for a similar ménage. It was a rhetorical question from the coffee shop partner, who had ridden him to climax twice the previous night.

"If you're having fun raise your hand, come on everyone a show of hands on who wants to make this a regular arrangement." Chloe asked, taking charge of events. Every hand went up but the Slayer, and all eyes went to her. "You're NOT having fun Faith, it didn't seem like that last night?"

"It was a double barrel question, and you should never answer those. Yes I had fun last night, no, I can't make this a permanent arrangement because I already have one in Sunnydale." A long phone call to her wife had not totally killed the homesickness. She missed the group. "I really miss them, and having a familiar home environment like this helps more than I can say."

Of her family, Willow was 'having fun', working on two different projects either of which could win someone the Nobel Prize, Buffy was having her regular 'can I fuck Xander to death?' weekend, this being the second weekend of the month, and Anya was attending a study workshop for Finance degree students. She couldn't go back to Sunnydale until coming to a conclusion about the werewolf alliance, which looked like taking another couple of weeks. At least the werewolf guru had a straightforward love life. He had female werewolves fighting over him. Literally. With most animals fighting over potential mates is what the males do while the female's sit back and watch the show. Werewolves are two human for that, and two animal to not have public violence over it.

"Still, he seems to be enjoying himself." She had explained it to Clark, he was fascinated with non-human intelligence and any resulting differences. For obvious reasons, if you thought about it, since he was a non-human intelligence, and he had no idea what was normal for his species. How much of Clark Kent was how his adoptive parents had raised him, how much was instinct, and how much his individual personality? He had no idea. He knew what they were doing here was not typical or accepted among humans, but it felt right to him. Did that mean it was normal on whatever planet he was from, or was he just a horny 17 year old? Was he 17, he looked older than Faith, apparently, maybe his people had an extended childhood and he had actually been 10 or 15 when he found the Kent's overturned car, instead of the four years they had assumed? So many questions he had no answers to.

The slayer was startled out of her reverie by Lana sitting on her lap, then reaching around to kiss her deeply on the mouth. Clark was staring, and then sitting back as Faith realized why Chloe was not visible, she was under the table giving the eldest Kent's son what he she had not the previous night. She had asked the dark slayer to give a lesson on 'how to give the perfect blowjob', but been distracted by her female classmate before demonstrating if she had learned properly. Faith, who took teaching this sort of thing very seriously, moved off the chair so she could watch for technique.

"Are you giving marks out of 100?" The Lang girl asked.

"Yes."

"And what are you going to do if I get a fail, put me over your knees and spank me?" Chloe said, turning from her task for a moment.

"Only if you ask very nicely."

The Kent house, at the same time.

"We need your help." Oz stated. He was not alone, there was a small group with him, all very peaceful looking people if you were not aware they were werewolves. The Kent's had seen that, and were nervous, since the baby was here but they were alone with the lycanthropes otherwise.

"Who are we, exactly." The taller man responded.

"The population of this entire reality." The musician was still not used to explaining himself in this kind of detail, but one can hardly be a prophet and not communicate. "Normally we say, 'the world', but really it is the entire plane of reality that is endangered."

"We grow good apples but they're not that good." Jonathan responded. Delusions of grandeur were not in his makeup.

"Its about Lex, isn't it?" Martha said. It had to be about him or Clark, and they were already doing everything they could for their son.

Since meeting the billionaire she had been coming to an understanding of why he kept hanging around.

"The wolf is dominant in him."

"He's a werewolf too, are you saying Lex is a werewolf?" Jonathan asked. Martha, the Metropolis University graduate, had described Oz as 'Oracular, at times' after meeting him before. Her husband just found it confusing.

"No. His father raised him to be a copy of himself, a predator. With the mother lost, the human side withered until Clark saved him." For Oz it was like pulling teeth. He had been wrestling the wolf for control for too long to really understand humans entirely, to understand how they were blind to the different sides of the personality. "You have noticed he refers to your son as 'my friend', NOT 'a friend of mine' or even 'one of my few friends'." "What about Faith, they seem, friendly enough." Which was the polite way of phrasing it. It was a small town, purchases of riding crops, handcuffs and other assorted items by people with no standard use for it were noticed. Not to mention cleaning yoghurt honey smeared fruit off the sheets, carpet, walls...

"Friendly, potentially a very good friend. But a woman with fighting a predatory side that makes Lionel Luthor look like Mother Teressa."

That stopped the conversation cold. For the Kent's there was no evil greater than Lionel Luthor. The idea that this woman, who wore clothes more expensive than Jonathan's truck, and drove a Volvo, was dangerous for some reason other than possible sexually transmitted diseases was stunning.

"She keeps crooked books or something, is that it?" It was the most dangerous thing they could imagine her doing.

"She was a professional assassin. She killed anyone her boss wanted, loves making people die." One of the werewolf assistants explained.

"How did she get a job as an accountant?" Jonathan was starting to see where this was headed. With associates like this it was amazing Lex was not a satanic priest, or a serial killer, or working for the Internal Revenue Service.

"She was in prison, because she surrendered herself. Her boss had been the Mayor of Sunnydale, and he destroyed the evidence of the murders. She did a few years for assault and studied accounting while she was there." The assistant added. "She is succeeding in her struggle with the wolf, but her ability to help Mr Luthor with his is fatally compromised by it."

Ok, even someone as cut off from popular psychological theory as Jonathan Kent could see where the problem was now. Lex could turn out to be worse than his father, if he wasn't given the right guidance. He was too old to be parented by them, but if he needed friends to show him right from wrong, they could manage that. They had never fought wolves before, but now seemed to be a time of new beginnings in many ways.

*****

The Blue Light Bistro, 1.23am, Wednesday.

Rupert Giles was unused to being appreciated. Or at least to being appreciated in public places for what he actually regarded as his important work. Therefore sitting in a Sunnydale 'Cop Bar', having drinks bought for him by the Rapid Response Teams, was a pleasant shock. Having them bought for him by Lieutenant Vanessa Peters, a reasonably tall and certainly athletic blonde in her late thirties was an extremely pleasant shock.

It is a truism that 'Intelligence' services tend to explain where the bad guys were last week, not where they will be next week. Frustrating for all concerned, but still true. As the saying goes, 'prediction is always difficult, especially about the future', but Giles had prophecy to guide him, and had a track record of getting it right. This was new to the Sunnydale Police, however, partly because the Mayor had deliberately sabotaged any attempt to properly investigate the 'gangs on PCP' issue, and partly because human criminals do not work according to prophesy. Therefore when he had gotten them to stage raids based on books thousands of years old in dead languages they had expected the usual wild goose chase. Instead over the last eight months they had prevented the end of the world twice, and stopped major massacres and sacrifices so many times it was becoming a regular feature of life.

In short, they were actually doing the job they had signed up for, but been prevented from doing by the deliberately institutionalised incompetence of the Mayor Wilkins era. Lieutenant Peters was buying drinks for Giles, partly because she thought he was cute, and partly because he had just helped Red Team save seven schoolgirls from being the virgin sacrifices needed to open the Hellmouth. One of said girls being her 14 year old daughter Tracy, who she had afterwards publicly advised to start with Buffy's Sunnydale Street Survival classes, and privately told that, given the whole 'virgin sacrifice' phenomena, losing her virginity would improve her life expectancy, and mom would avoid asking awkward questions about who and when. The sight of one of Tracy's best friends spread-eagled on an alter with a demon about to rip her heart out with an obsidian knife kept returning, and the age of consent had become a death sentence in the cops mind, so it had to be ignored, for her daughter's sake.

"Jack, my ex husband, big guy, anyway he was real close to Mayor Wilkins bunch." Giles noticed how the rest of the patrons were giving the two of them space. It was boisterous crowd, mainly males who had deliberately chosen the most dangerous end of a dangerous profession. They were not choirboys, in fact they reminded the former librarian of his Ripper days, but they were letting their commander get drunk and try to pick him up without too much kidding. Which he took as an indication that if he allowed things to follow their natural course he would not be greeted with hostility for 'taking advantage' of her. "Asshole just kept covering up things, kept transferring anyone who asked questions to patrol duty on the nigh shift, the suicide shift. Me he had demoted and THEN transferred to night patrol."

"Yes, that is how we met, is it not?" Giles remembered all too well, it was the night of the big ambush that had started the Scooby gang's direct co-operation with the Police. He had mentioned it to distract her mind from his switching them both to non-alcoholic drinks. Even Ripper had had basic rules about who he slept with, one being to make sure she was in full possession of her faculties at the time, as Vanessa clearly was not with five bourbon and cokes in her system. "You were in one of the back up cars, were you not?"

"Got the bite marks to prove it too." Vampires had deliberately allowed the first car ambushed to call for help, then ambushed three carloads of backup. Giles first sight of the woman beside him had been of her sitting slumped against her car with vampire dust over her, two trickles of blood running down her neck, her service pistol and two spare magazines empty on the ground next to her. "Wilkins dusted the vamp and you helped me into the ambulance, as I vaguely recall."

Given how much blood she had lost that night, the fact that the Lieutenant remembered anything at all was impressive. She had been in shock, which is technically about loss of blood rather than a response to surprise, and stunned to have emptied three fifteen round magazines into something without any effect except to reveal it was a vampire. Still she had remembered enough to be a driving force in getting the RRT's reassigned to 'Monster Hunting'.

He also remembered the gleam in her eye when she had first used the new weapons and ammunition. The new shotguns made the standard issue Ithaca pump weapons look like bb guns, thirty rounds instead of five, Incendiary and Armour Piercing High Explosive -APHE- ammunition gutting the Lemor Demon like a trout. She had stood over its slowly burning corpse shouting 'Yes, Yes, Yes' and then turned to him and smiled. The collapse of her marriage had started with her realization of her husband's responsibility for her demotion and transfer, but this was the real turning point. She pushed for an official investigation into the vampire and demon question, he turned out to have deliberately protected said night creatures as part of Mayoral policy. He had moved on to some other corrupt town and been shot as part of a 'criminal dispute'.

"Rupert Giles, do you want to go home to my place and fuck my brains out?"

"You have had rather a lot to drink, and I really don't want to..."

"Exploit poor, innocent little me?" She said, smiling. "Ripper, yes don't look so surprised, I did a little research on you, the last three drinks were plain coke. Dave cuts me off automatically after the first two, I arranged it, but it looks better with the guys if I order something stronger. This is still a mans world, in here anyway."

The point was proven when they got up and left, to whistles and catcalls from the rest of the crowd. In a testosterone fuelled environment like this keeping respect meant not breaking certain rules, unspoken but clearly understood. She had not done this before, her divorce being new, and certain double standards still applied in the eyes of some of her colleagues. Giles, as the official reason for the party, and a man she had obviously been developing an interest in for a while, was acceptable. Anything remotely resembling his younger charges arrangements would not have been. The feel of her hand sliding into his back pocket killed off his academic musing.

The Karnak Chronicles Repository, Virtual Reality version.

Working for the Karnak had convinced Chloe Sullivan of two things. First, that the difference between data and information is not fully appreciated, and second, that there is no substitute for an inquiring mind. Here she was, in a computer simulation like something out of a William Gibson novel, more like early twenty third century than early twenty first, at least to her small town experienced eyes. But it was all just data i.e. random facts, and had not been sifted through so that it made sense, which is the definition of Information.

A simple case in point was that the ability of the Karnak to pass for humans indefinitely, and their historic employment as mercenaries, meant they had been present a certain crucial events in history, recorded what had happened, but then not interpreted that evidence since. It just sat here. The question of why Alexander the Great had burned down the Persian Capital a week after capturing it had been argued by historians for over two thousand three hundred years. Reasons of grand policy, some said. To induce fear, others argued. As revenge for Persian attacks on Greece, insisted a third.

The Karnak had been there, as supposed Greek mercenaries, with a commander or more in the command tent learning all the details. There was no clever, carefully thought out reason. Alexander and his group of commanders were all in there early twenties, had done something amazing, and proceeded to get falling down drunk. They stayed that way for the week after taking the city, and were all too plastered to stand when said a local prostitute said she had always hated the place and would like to see it burn. Alexander had ordered it done, and that was that. Neither then nor in the over two millennia afterward had any of the Karnak questioned it or commented on it. The many similar examples of great policy being made out of the bottom of a wine cup did not cause them to consider what it said about the fallibility of human decision-making.

"Or am I just being Chloe Sullivan, girl reporter again." She mused, sipping her coffee. The connection was in Lex and Lana's coffee shop/bookstore, and a constant supply of her favourite beverage was part of her employment contract. She knew that a rumour was spreading she had developed an addiction to internet porn, that she was here every day after school because of that but she did not care about irrelevant trivia. And it was totally irrelevant to her duties why Big Al had done any of this, but she had heard of the debate and wanted to know the truth, it was just her nature. "No Chloe, this is important. You, who has yet to have her 17th birthday, were hired because you investigate where others don't, you connect facts together to make information where no one else sees a connection. You are being paid $100.00 an hour after tax by some very shrewd businessmen, don't assume it's just because of your pretty face."

Here primary duties were trying to make sense of the multiple weirdness that most investigators had rarely even heard of. There was the whole supernatural world, of course, Vampires, Demons, Werewolves, Bill Gates, and so on, that the Slayers in Sunnydale knew about. There was the Alien Invasion conspiracy that Mulder and Scully had been trying to deal with. Then the Genetically re-engineered Super Soldiers the former FBI agents had more recently discovered. There was the green meteor rocks and the strangeness caused by them, that she personally had been handling. Throw in Roswell, Area 51, the Kennedy assassination, and the popularity of rap music and there was more freaky stuff out there than you could reasonably count. The Karnak records covered all of it, and more, in minute detail.

What the Karnak wanted, desperately enough to pay a high school girl most people dismissed as a paranoid nutcase over $2000.00 a week for, was to make sense of it all in context. How did it all fit together, or did it all fit together at all? Did the Super Soldier thing really connect with Alien Invasion conspirators? Were they being run by the same people or by enemies, if by the same people were they, the mysterious Consortium, creating the SS to help with the invasion, or as an attempt to fight it? "Fortunately Chloe, you don't have to come up with all the answers." She heard from behind her, it was Jane Smith, her immediate supervisor, or at least pay mistress. The way the Karnak had gotten away for so long with such totally unimaginative cover names was probably one more mystery to add to the pile, but she was stretched too thin as it was. "It is far more the directions your mind takes that ours never seem to that make you a worthwhile investment."

"You sound so much like Lex at times." She added, then thought that maybe Lionel Luthor was a better example of the mentality. But he was the enemy, better not mention him. "I am a 'worthwhile investment', am I."

"There is much talent being wasted in this world, and we look for it." The Karnak demon in human form explained, placing her Cappuccino down. The study booth Chloe used was private, like the ones the real internet porn addicts used. None of whom seemed to realize why when Lana took Chloe her coffee it sometimes took an hour for her to leave again. The loss of time was always made up for, carefully recorded as a break, the researcher was to honest to charge for time she was using for sex. Indeed 'Jane' had pointed out the possibility, as one advantage of working here rather than at some office location. "Our human employees are mainly from people your society has ignored or warehoused. Prisons, small towns, all sorts of places."

"Prisons and small towns, can you tell a difference?" The human of the two said.

"Principally in the rape and murder rates."

"That was a joke."

"In any case, I came here to give you your pay for this week, and congratulate you. Our researchers are finding your insights most useful, one of your three hour shifts creates enough intellectual ferment among them to increase their productivity many fold." The Karnak mainly paid her through direct deposit to her bank account, but Jane always came in person to talk and hand her overtime to her in cash. She was contracted for three hours a day Monday to Friday, any more constituted overtime. "$635.00 this week, after tax, $1500.00 direct to your account. We think you should really consider an offshore account with our bank in Jamaica, your direct deposits over the next year will be nearly $80,000 after all."

"For as long as it lasts." Chloe was dreading having the job end. Not so much for the money, but because she had unfettered access to one of the worlds greatest sources of information on things most intelligence agencies were starved for information on. She was on an eighteen-month contract, presumably they expected her to be finished by then. "I'll be sorry when my contract ends."

"You are not under the impression you will not be renewed, are you?" Jane seemed surprised, clearly the idea had not occurred to her.

"Why else an eighteen month contract? It ends on my 18th birthday, which may just be a co-incidence, or an attempt to avoid paying an adult rate or something."

"No, it is not for either of those reasons. The End of Days will occur on your 18th birthday, so all contracts will have to be re-negotiated after that date anyway." Jane said it as calmly as she would have a weather report. "Armageddon will actually start at 11.15 am that day, I hope we can have breakfast before hand if you have no other plans."

"Happy birthday to me." The human said, while thinking that at least she had cleared up why her contract ended when it did.

*****

Chloe Sullivans VR work booth

It is often not appreciated how alien human norms are to some other intelligent species. Some times the species themselves lose track of the fact that their ideas of proper behaviour are not those of humans, particularly if the human they are dealing with is a friend. Jane Smith, Karnak Demon, supervisor of Chloe Sullivan for the Karnak Chroniclers, was just now realizing she was guilty of such blindness. It all revolved around the title, Tar.

"Chloe, please try to understand these reports are written by my species, not yours." The girl was looking at a translation of her own file, which she had access to because it was policy that individuals check their files regularly to vet for inaccuracy. It was a report on her activities since meeting Faith from the accounting branch that was the problem. "We did not give you a full briefing on cultural differences for lack of time and because you were ..."

"A SLUT. That's what you called me, its what every report on me since I started working for you calls me." Ms Sullivan was ready to go get a chainsaw from Mathew's Hardware and start re-decorating the room with minced Karnak demon. "How could you, I work damn hard for you and, and ..."

"Chloe Sullivan, the nearest equivalent in Karnak to Slut is Tar, and it is a compliment. The full translation is 'she who is giver of the gifts of peace', and the term translated as 'dad' is Tark , more fully, 'he who accepts the gifts of peace, and their giver' and derives directly from it." Jane could see that the human girl was confused instead of angry, which was a good sign, given how long it had taken her to understand the human concepts that were equivalent. "You have taken responsibility for making a happy, cohesive mate group out of three people who had spent some time as romantic rivals. Lana Lang and yourself were competing for Clark Kent, while refusing to admit to yourselves your attraction to women. Such rivalries and denials routinely lead to murder, or suicide, or both, in our two species."

Jane was not a sociologist, she was a Chronicler, with a degree in Information Systems. She really wanted to get on to the important work they were doing, but this had to be cleared up. Explaining really required an understanding of how Karnak culture had resulted from millennia where there only economic activity was war, and therefore where every generation of males had 'post traumatic stress syndrome.' Building happy, or at least comfortable and functional, communities out of such materials was the role of the Tar. After explaining a little of this, and giving the example of Xander Harris, a Tark who was instrumental in piecing together an even more emotionally damaged group in Sunnydale, the demon was finally able to start the work she had hoped to cover this day.

"You have an interesting insight into the arrival of the evil one, I am told." Which was a masterpiece of understatement, it was a revelation that gave hope for victory where there had only been prophecy. Not that the Karnak did not believe in the prophecy of victory in the battle of Armageddon, but having a logical explanation of how it could happen was a comfort.

"It has to do with the police involvement in slaying, which began in Sunnydale last year, the Super Soldiers, and Xander Harris." Preliminary findings had been sent to the main library, which had sent Jane for more information. Chloe was a student newspaper editor, not an experienced writer of policy analysis documents, which is what was required. "Demon numbers had been kept under control since the expulsion of 'the old ones' by the slayer, working alone, armed mainly with just a sharp stick. The ever expanding police combat role is reducing the numbers of demons and vampires on the planet as a whole,"

As a demon herself Jane might have taken this triumphal attitude to demon killing badly, but she saw where it was going. The statistical facts had been there, but its relevance to the End of Days had not registered. Which was one-reason humans like Ms Sullivan and, to a lesser extent, Xander Harris were brought in or allowed in. That monkey curiosity at work again, sometimes she just had to sit back and admire it.

"But the movement of demons and vampires to the hellmouth is unstoppable, it draws us to it, even I can feel the desire to go and replace those demons killed there." She was not an EVIL demon, the Karnak had never killed for fun, simply from economic necessity. But as demons died under the guns of the Colour Teams, as they were starting to be called, more always replaced them. "In fact major fighting has broken out in many cities and towns used by dark ones in transit."

"Exactly." The teenager said excitedly. The realization she had had was the most exciting thing that had happened to her since being told the devil would appear just before lunch on her birthday. Which was exciting in an all too dark way. "The demon army that the first evil is expecting to have is dying in a hundred battles in a hundred places, instead of all having to be all killed at once. There is a technical term for it, I looked it up in a dictionary of military terms."

"What is it?"

The Magic Box, upstairs study area

"Defeat in detail." Xander Harris said. His soldier memories were no longer what he automatically assumed was responsible for understanding concepts like that. Knowing that he was a lost result of a genetic engineering project to make the ideal soldier had changed a lot of his assumptions about himself. Willow was feeding Jake, while Faith make faces at the boy. He would explain himself to them again tonight, refusing to consider interrupting their family time. "If you have 10,000 men, and your enemy 100,000, in a head on fight you will lose."

Giles had not studied military history or concepts as such, but he understood the general idea. Vanessa had a police rather than military background but commanding the RRT's was a very practical education in organized violence. The rest of the Scoobies had never really been much for team activities, even slaying was something they did as a group rather than an organized teams with 'a place for everyone, and everyone in his/her place.' So all listened, not all seeing where it was going. Anya was holding Buffy around the waist, holding her close while admiring her boyfriend and, to be honest, listening carefully to every wore he said.

"But, if instead you divide them and fight them over a period of time in groups of, say, 5,000, you have them outnumbered two to one in each battle instead of being outnumbered yourself by ten to one in one big clusterfuck." The sound of massed shotguns punctuated the night, Yellow team was patrolling this part of town tonight, and they were handling another bunch of something evil even now. The RRT's commander was absolutely focused on the briefing, hard for Giles to recognize as the imaginative lover of his nights or the concerned mother she also was. A human has many faces, he reminded himself, and if you see only one you miss the whole person.

"And because Sunnydale police publicized what was happening, at least among the SWAT community, the new weapons and tactics are in use across the country, around the world. Police departments faced with demons on the move kill them instead of being eaten by them."

The Karnak had not anticipated the incredible demand for re-equipping and retraining that had resulted, but, had managed to deal with it. Production lines were running three shifts, but the ammunition which was the really critical part was under Karnak control, and they simply licensed production worldwide to meet worldwide demand.

One demonstration of demon hunting with an RRT made a convert of most small town sheriffs and foreign police chiefs, and the prices being asked for the complete shotguns, special ammunition and re-training package were very low. With the end of the world coming the Karnak Consortium felt losing money on the whole was acceptable. Certainly more acceptable than being tortured for all eternity like the humans would be, which was the alternative. Having a notable part to play in saving the human race from that fate would be a PR bonanza too, of course. Always good for business.

Chloe Sullivan's VR work booth

"Mr Harris and the Super Soldiers?" Jane asked.

"A major reason they are dangerous is because they lack certain personality traits. They are just inhuman killing machines."

"They have no honour." The demons responded, unconsciously reminding Chloe of her in VR conversations with Xander. He said the Karnak in true form reminded him of Mr Spoke as a Wookie. Chloe disagreed, they reminded her of Mr Spoke as a Klingon, at least the honour-obsessed part of them did. Though, of course, they had the table manners of Vulcans rather than Klingons, who had the table manners of some of the bikers her cousin had dated. Not to mention the same ratty beards, heavy drinking, and love of violence...Ok, maybe Xander was right.

"Definitely not people who can be trusted with the sort of power they have. And since this nation, and maybe more, has had water additives added to make the entire population readily converted to SS it means we can get to the SS through the water supply." The teenage girl added. The look on her supervisor's face made clear she had lost the demon. Where, it seemed fairly obvious to the school girl.

"Water additives, no one mentioned water additives, you mean I have been drinking something intended to make me into one of them?" The demon had shifted from human look to true form, simply from agitation. Which was extreme, since the Karnak had thousands of years experience in keeping up the mask under trying circumstances.

"Relax, look, from your own testing the stuff is harmless to non-humans, and waits passively in humans until activated." Once more a human sat in the chair opposite Mr Sullivans little girl. "The point is Xander was an attempt to make a dutiful, honourable soldier with a grasp of logistics. Your Sunnydale office has obtained samples from him and passed them along to some of the labs creating new versions of the Super soldiers, where Lex has 'persuaded' the researchers to add the traits to all new and existing soldiers."

"Through the water supply. You intend to add something to the water supply that the Super soldiers will automatically take up in their DNA, making them responsible citizens, an army of invincible Xander Harris wanna be's." Jane said.

"Well, Lex is actually handling the details, but yes, that is how the system was set up by the genetic labs in the first place. Everyone is guaranteed to be reached that way, and only someone who is already an SS will be affected. In six months the whole Genetic Super Soldier problem will be reduced to a new human sub species, unkillable boy scout types."

"Which handles our major problems, doesn't it. The End of Days and the Super Soldiers." The demon responded

"Well, there is the small matter of the Alien Invasion to consider. And, of course, eminem."

"I think the Elders may have their own solution to the Aliens, anyway."

*****

The desk of Xander Harris's personal assistant, 4.35pm

One of the things that Xander Harris enjoyed about his life, because these days there were many things about it to enjoy, was being the member of the Harris clan people envied. It was not that he bragged particularly, he knew he was a success in his own terms and felt no need to justify it to anyone. But the fact was that he had money earned from his own efforts, the ability to make more if some disaster resulted in poverty, and, to put the most important fact last, and a happy home life. For a man with as miserable an upbringing as the Zeppo, this was the most important achievement of all.

"Mr Harris, your wife on line 3." As the owner of his own, rapidly expanding renovation and construction business the only employed Harris had an assistant, Sally Ride, to, among other things, screen his calls. At first she had thought all the women calling for him personally meant he was cheating on his wife, or just sleeping with anything female.

Then she met them, and the real weirdness started. Willow Rosenburg was known to Sally, but not in the biblical sense. It was a point of pride with her that she was one of the few people she knew who had turned down the red head in her self-destructive phase. Not that she had anything in particular against gay women, being an out lesbian, but she had a great deal against helping someone commit slow suicide. So the first of the women in the boss's life was a pleasant surprise. The phone rang again.

"Mr Harris, its your wife's wife on line 4, shall I link the calls?" With Willow, Faith and Xander all speaking she went back to the presentation she was working on. It was part of a re-development proposal for the Wolfram and Hart building site. Not for the whole building, White Knight Construction was not that big yet, but as a sub-contractor. Still, it was a lot of money, and she was to give the presentation of their proposal. It was a big opportunity, and she was determined to get it right.

She answered several calls about matters that she had the power to deal with herself, it was part of the 'grow our own managers' policy and she was studying for a finance degree part time. Then there was another call. "Mr Harris, your girlfriend on line 2."

Back to the presentation, she had to practice and decide what order to put things in. Some people recommended summarizing first, and then giving details, others the reverse. Her previous experience made her favour the summarize first school, with sub summaries at the start of each new phase of the presentation. The phone rang again. "Mr Harris, your girlfriends girlfriend on line1."

With Buffy now part of the conversation she went back to her work. An important issue was how to explain the nature of the 'blessing the ground' ceremony that had been requested, as part of the bid. Because of the companies close links with the Karnak, and their public status as 'good demons' the Los Angeles Mayors office had requested a Karnak religious ceremony be included in Xanders bid. Politically correct of them, but given that the Karnak worship a fertility goddess, and the highest sacrament is the female orgasm, likely to be more of a spectacle than was perhaps intended. The door opened and a teenage girl with black hair walked in.

"Can I see Xander?" The schoolgirl asked. Sally had never seen her before.

"Do you have an appointment?" The assistant knew full well there was no one due in this afternoon.

"No, but tell him Dawn is here and it's important." She knew who Dawn was, she had simply never met the girl in person. The TV was on in the background, tuned to a finance cable channel, for any visitors to watch. A news bulletin broke in, scenes of troops fighting demons in Tehran, mainly AK47's and RPG's, but if you blow the head off completely most things will die, as the Karnak had advised the Iranian government when the fighting broke out initially.

Interestingly the demon attacks had improved relations with the United States greatly. Having publicly referred to the USA as 'The Great Satan' since 1979 it was a habit, but facing real minions of the actual Great Satan put the horrors of the degenerate West into perspective. There was even talk of removing the 'DEATH TO AMERICA' slogans tiled into the lobby wall of some expensive tourist hotels in metre high letters, but the Ayatollah's thought that was going too far. Still, 'a journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step', and all that.

"Dawn what is it?" The boss asked, leaning out the door of his office. How had he noticed she was out here while talking to four women at the same time? It wasn't like you could see her from inside, it was an old fashioned office with actual individual offices instead of cubicles, the White Knight preferred that and always suggested it to clients. "Lets go into my office and talk."

"Actually it concerns Sally more than you." Suddenly shy now, Xanders - what? What precisely is the term for someone's girlfriends girlfriend's sister, who is actually the human embodiment of an interdimensional key, and created from a slayer who was therefore both sister and mother, when the girlfriend is also the mans wife's casual lover and the wife's wife's lover? - Xanders whatever the term was was looking nervous but determined, also red in the face. "Sally, I need to take up your offer of, a, help."

Sally might have been surprised if Mr Harris had not sounded her out about this a month ago. She had been kept informed of the family situation and its complexity, personal assistants often are as part of keeping the boss's schedule, sending birthday presents and such things. He might not have gone into too many details, but she had met the various alternatives, i.e. the other women in his life, and understood the problems. For a girl diagnosed to have 'deprived slayer syndrome' i.e. one with an increasing hormone imbalance due to a lack of sex, all had big disadvantages.

Buffy, Dawns 'sister', was protective to a point of keeping her a virgin, which was slowly killing her the way it killed several thousand years of Watchers Council raised slayers before her. Anya was a demon, whose idea of subtle seduction was to announce in public 'let go back to my place for sex.' Willow and Faith had both had far too much experience of the wrong kind, and would never clash with Buffy to the needed degree anyway.

That left Dana Scully, who had responded to the request for 'practical instruction', as opposed to what happened in school sex ed classes, by explaining that Dawn was under age in California. Given the health related nature of the request she was willing to teach everything she knew to the schoolgirl anyway, 'but someone closer to your age might work out better'. After seeing the scars left on Mulder by 'the great S& M weekend' the idea of being taught 'everything Scully knows about sex' was more than a little intimidating anyway. Actually mind numbing fear was closer to the mark, the red headed former FBI agent had done things that Anyanka dismissed as too kinky, and failed to understand anyone's problem with it. The geese...

"Mr Harris, it will take me another hour to finish this, or I can go now and handle it tomorrow." Which was the best way Sally had thought of, with a month to plan for this moment, to get a go/nogo without subjecting anyone to too much embarrassment if Xander or Dawn chickened out at the last minute. She looked at her boss, who had the look of a man sending someone on a suicide mission, and 'the key', who was determined, scared, and very obviously horny as hell. After a moments silence, she picked up the 'tool bag' Scully had left at the office for exactly this use, took the other woman's hand, and left for home.

The owner of the business watched them leave, then turned to the TV mounted in corner of the ceiling, and cleared his mind. The world news was ending, finishing with shots of blue and purple demon corpses lined up for the cameras in Peru. It was some small town that demons on the way to the hellmouth had converged on for some mystically inspired reason, not actually attacking, just moving through. But an army patrol had also been passing through, so the first evil's potential army got smaller, again.

"Buffy's going to kill me." He muttered.

Willow and Faith's bedroom, that night.

"Buffy won't really kill him, you know, it's just talk." Willow commented, quietly to her beloved cradled in the bed next to her. Xander had been asked where Dawn was, by the blonde slayer, and had told them. Which was either very gutsy or very stupid of him, depending on how you looked at it. The Zeppo being who he was, he simply refused to feel any guilt about taking a necessary decision, regardless of how unpopular. Dawn needed what she needed, they had several doctors' confirmation of the hormone imbalance to prove it, and as far as he was concerned that ended the matter. "It's so Xander. You know about the bloodstone vengeance spell, don't you?"

"No, well not anything about toyboy being involved no." Faith thought back, through the post sex tranquillity, to what she had heard of the very early days of the slayerettes. Something about Amy's mother, who was a very powerful witch, zapping Buffy as part of a scheme to take over Amy's body and relive her glory days as a cheerleader. "What did he do?"

"When Giles explained that the spell would kill Buffy in an hour or so, but that cutting the witches head off would end the spell..."

"Xanman offered to go get the axe and do it himself." The dark slayer interrupted. Jake was sleeping in the cot next to her, tucked in with his bunny rabbit bedcover. The level of love and comfort she felt here was hard to explain, she sometimes tried but words failed her.

"Basically." Willow was years over her crush on the construction manager, but her fondness for him remained. She wouldn't have married him in a Catholic Church, and allowed him to be Jake's dad and Faith's sex toy, without liking and respecting him. Still, after the revelations of the past few months, her oldest friend was undergoing constant re-evaluation by her. He was not just funny Xander, who always protected her or at least tried to. He was 'nearly unkillable genetically enhanced Xander, with added staff officer skills', a manufactured product. All she could really think was how glad she was that the rest of the Super Soldiers from the same assembly line were being re-made in his mental image. She slept better at night, knowing it

Anya, Buffy and Xander's bedroom, also that night.

Anya was thankful for the restraints tying her to the four-poster bed, because otherwise each of Xanders thrusts might have smacked her head into the wall. As a demon she would have had no problem with either the pain or the blows to the head, but the wall was freshly repaired from the last time her boyfriend had been angry with the elder Summers, and for some reason he always got embarrassed when she explained what had happened. She enjoyed his extra energy at such times, her lover always got his anger out through the workout, and Buffy missed out on some sensational sex, a point the vengeance demon always made to the slayer the day after.

Buffy had yelled at him and demanded to know Sally's address so she could go over there and 'rescue' Dawn. Rational argument got the new dad nothing, the slayer was determined to protect her sister. That such protection was counter to medical needs, that Buffy had slept with Angel while younger than her sister now was, and Ms Ride was a nice woman only two years older who would show her how to meet other nice girls, - and even guys, Sally thought threesomes a marvellous way to sleep with cute women - for some reason only enraged her. She was sulking in the other bed now, refusing to join in. Crazy bitch, Anya thought. Then thought became impossible, and she just enjoyed the pounding.

Casa Summers breakfast table, the next morning.

Dawn Summers had been retuned home in time to change and go to school. She seemed to be floating on air, with a calm and relaxed smile on her face. She had not whined or complained about anything, despite Buffy burning her toast and generally being obnoxious. Clearly here was an example of a non-deprived slayer.

"So Dawn, I take it you enjoyed yourself." Anya commented. She felt proud of her restraint, she had looked at Buffy and said 'Nyah, told you so didn't we.' Xander was holding Jake, carefully holding his head up while showing him around the room absentmindedly. It always seemed to improve the babies mood, or maybe it was just being held by the man himself.

"Mmm, oh, yeah, I learned why Buffy was always buying cucumbers but there was never any in the salad and that strap on thing..."

"WAY TOO MUCH INFORMATION DAWN. I'm glad Sally can help, but if you want to discuss the details do it without me or your sister in the room." He just didn't want to think about Dawn that way, and Buffy really was pissed at him. If looks could kill he would have been on his way to the morgue the previous night. Now the blonde slayer was embarrassed as well as angry, not a good combination. Faith and Willow had barely noticed the problem, being wrapped up in each other.

By the end of the meal Buffy was in a better mood. It was best to let things go quietly, in situations where the elder slayer knew she was in the wrong. If confronted her natural stubbornness just made her refuse to admit mistakes. Dawn was as blissed out as it was possible to be without chemical enhancement, proof Xanders decision had been right. If no one mentioned it, Buffy would quietly accept that, if confronted she would deny forever. The morning news showed a lull in the fighting, with congress debating the whole problem of the legal status of demons. Sunnydale itself had been comparatively quiet, with few demons left in the town and those on the way being actively targeted by FBI and state police units across the country.

It was fourteen months to Armageddon.

Chapter 4

The Kent Farm, Smallville Kansas

Clark Kent had been called many thing in his time, but moron was not one of them. Or at least not by anyone who honestly believed it. So when this was one of the names Dawn Summers called him for responding to her proposition with 'Chloe handles all those arrangements, ask her', he took it for a simple insult and not a carefully weighed assessment of his intellect. Many people would have taken turning down a girl as cute, friendly and sexually rapacious as 'the key' stupid.

Those people were not sleeping with both of the women he had always fantasized about, PLUS the other women that they took home and DEMANDED he 'service', to prove his loyalty and love for them. Lana Lang had developed a serious appetite for cheer leaders, while Chloe Sullivan kept bringing home women Lex Luthor referred to as 'most intriguing'. No, Clark was an alien, he was a naive farm boy, he was, to be honest, not a straight A student, but the kind of stupid that sours a sweet deal like that he was not. Explaining this to his parents, who thought Norman Rockwell was the greatest painter of the twentieth century, if a bit of a social radical, was the tricky part.

"Why was that poor girl crying when she ran out of your room Clark, I know you didn't hit her, so what was it." Jonathan Kent knew Clark had not hit her for two reasons. One, Clark was his son and no son of Jonathan Kent was going to beat up women. Secondly, if Clark had hit her in real anger her head would now be in low Earth orbit, perhaps accompanied by the rest of her body, perhaps not.

Clark had the look of someone who was thinking about his answer very carefully, which is a bad look to have when trying to avoid trouble. He would work this out eventually, by himself, but at this point in his life his experience with lying was very limited. Still his parents knew something was up, something that he was worried about their reaction to. What was it, Murder, Rape, Voting Republican, what?

"She propositioned me and I turned her down." Said the interstellar refugee; it at least had the virtue of being true.

"Clark, you hang around Lex an awful lot, is there something about your 'relationship' with him you need to tell us?" Martha responded.

"I'm not gay mom, its just that I don't want to upset Chloe and Lana."

"Son, if you can't decide between those two maybe you should date someone else." Jonathan said, a man of the twentieth century, if not the nineteenth. "You have to decide between them sooner or later, you can't have both after all."

"I AM having both of them."

"WHAT!" From the Kent's in unison.

"Chloe is my girlfriend, and so is Lana."

"Son, when they find out they'll kill you." Pronounced the elder male of the group, appalled that his son was cheating on such nice girls. "Chloe will at least try, and she knows about the funny effects those meteor rocks, she'll invent something to get it done."

"No dad, Chloe is my girlfriend, and SHE is the one who insists I sleep with Lana." Clark said. Maybe if he left out some of the details he could get away with his dignity in tact. Trying to explain his living arrangements was likely to get him grounded for a year.

"Chloe TOLD YOU to have sex with Lana." Martha Kent was from Metropolis, and had a wider and more experimental social circle as a teenager. Not that she had ever told Jonathan about it, but it was there. The sneaking suspicion was there that her eldest had not yet told the whole story, and that it had better come out now. "Is that all, is this a ménage et troi?"

"A menagerie, what are you talking about Martha?"

"Dad, it means where two women have sex with each other and a man as well, and yes, that is the basic idea mom."

"BASIC IDEA, just how depraved is this THING you've gotten into." Dear dad demanded to know. Dave at the feed store had commented about 'your son getting involved with these damn dykes', and Jonathan had simply assumed his son was studying irrigation systems. His elder brother had introduced the term to him after his Vietnam service, dykes were small dams and sat higher than the paddy fields and sometimes had mines planted on them. "DID YOU SUGGEST THAT POOR GIRL JOIN IN TO THIS, THIS, THIS..."

"No dad, she suggested just me and her, and I told her that she would have to get Chloe's permission." Perhaps if he explained things properly he would not be disowned by the family entirely. It was worth a shot. "You see dad, Chloe and Lana bring in other women some times, but they asked me to not do that, just to let them handle it. I don't touch other women without Chloe's approval, and they don't touch other men at all."

Jonathan had nothing in particular against lesbians, in the sense that he had nothing against life on Mars. He had never thought about it, never for a moment considered gay people would ever be part of his life. This was Smallville Kansas, after all, not San Francisco. Now his eldest son was part of some strange menagerie thing that involved two girls who brought Clark extra women from time to time. He could see why Clark had been in an unusually good mood for a while now, anyway.

"Clark, Dawn is staying for a while because Faith brought her, is she a part of this mystical anti demon force?" Martha asked, partly to change the subject. Partly because she didn't want either of the men present to start wondering how much she actually knew about threesomes, and how. It was a long time ago, Katherine was married to a dentist in Cleveland...anyway it was a long time ago.

"She's a slayer, they both are." Clark hoped that made a difference, the TV news had covered 'the war against evil demons' to a degree, but Clark did not know how much attention his parents had been paying. With visits from Werewolf guru's, an alien eldest son, a genetic super something youngest son, and Chloe working part time for Karnak demons he assumed they knew more than average.

"Dawn is so young to be involved in this terrible thing." Stated the maternal one of the three.

"Mom, Dawn is OLD, for a slayer, most start at 15 and die within six months. She's 18, older than 78% of the slayers that ever lived." Clark had discussed it with Giles over the phone once; anything about near human's fascinated him.

They had forgotten, it was something hard to take in, that the survival of the world had depended for millennia on girls with primitive weapons that rarely lived very long. And the death rate had been compounded by hormone imbalances, slayers were more human than Clark, but still different enough to be killed by being treated like a human. They were thinking of Dawn as an 18 year old girl like any other, but she wasn't.

"Son, I'll call Chloe and get her permission, you go find Dawn." Jonathan Clark said.

Sunnydale, the park near some caves

Red team moved through the entrance and down the cave to where it split in two directions, then secured the area and prepared for green and blue teams to move through and down the tunnels. Green went down the left tunnel, and blue the right one. The ceremony was down one of the tunnels, but the sacrifices were being held down the other. By 'a large group of mixed demons,' who were in a bad mood from being forced to hide here, or so intel said. Which tunnel was which they did not say.

Buffy was moving with blue team, Xander with green, Vanessa Peters, Willow and Giles with Red team in reserve. The red head could still do some magic in emergencies, it was a '...a Jedi uses the force for information and defence, never attack...' sort of deal. Mulder and Scully were back in LA with Angel, dealing with another crisis, after the souled vampire had given up on solving the 'Xander puzzle'. Gunfire roared out the left tunnel, radio reception was terrible and so Willow was relaying information with special spells.

"Green team reports contact with a large force of demons, with human prisoners. They request re-enforcements urgently." Willow repeated, since only she could hear the information and Lieutenant Peters needed to hear. It was obvious if you thought about it, but had had to be practised because people forget the most basic things in a real combat situation. So drill and repetition make habits of what is needed. "Blue team have the ceremonial area in sight. Nothing much happening, they are setting up a crossfire and appear not to have been observed."

"Red team move down the left tunnel and re-enforce green team, they have command priority." Since the teams normally worked independently, teamwork WITHIN teams was excellent, but between teams tended to break down, hence clarifying that green team commander was in charge. "Yellow team move into the tunnel complex and get SWAT to secure the entrance."

Red team jogged down the tunnel, it was large enough to drive a small truck down and had no problems accommodating them standing up. The roar of massed shotguns was punctuated by screams now, not all of them from demons. Green team was in trouble, holding the tunnel entrance into a large cavern, and under heavy attack at close quarters. Red team started chanting 'red team, red team' as they approached, to let the other cops know the pounding footsteps approaching from behind in the dark were friendly. There was no sense risking a 'friendly fire' incident.

"Red team, red team, red team." And suddenly they were avoiding wounded green teamer's, and forcing their way to the front. Green team fell back and reloaded, there was not enough room for both teams at the front. Harris, nominally a 'civilian advisor', was in command, since no-one senior to him was alive, or at least not too injured to handle it.

Xander Harris was wielding a broad sword coated in blood, while wearing I.R goggles it was impossible to know what colour, since everything looked green anyway. He had slashes down his left arm and chest, bleeding but not too bad. The demon head he was holding, by the hair, in the other hand looked faintly surprised, and bruised, since he had apparently been using it as weapon, as he did again, swinging it down viciously to knock down something big with too many arms and a determination to attack despite the loss of a leg. It rose up on its arms again, and he hit it again before stabbing something in front of him. A shotgun double tap blew away the thing stuck on his sword, and then the other thing on the ground.

"Hernandez, so glad you could make it to the party." Harris shouted into the other mans ear, barely discernible over the noise. With a fresh team a zone was being cleared in front, and something could be seen of the battlefield. Or perhaps slaughterhouse was a better term, there had to be enough pieces here to account for hundreds of demons. The teams had been brought to full strength for this assault, a dozen men each. Green team seemed to be down to 4 plus Harris, who was clearly a dangerous maniac, but a USEFUL, dangerous maniac.

Firing a shotgun that close to someone's arm - someone friendlies arm - was a violation of common sense and several close combat regulations. Xander seemed to prefer not being eaten and/or disembowelled, however, and stepped back to provide room for red team. The teams now had a good 10 feet clearance, and the survivors of green team moved into the line, pushing the demons back another few feet. Then suddenly there was a clear space, as the demons in front of them were gone, and the whole cavern came into view.

"Oh, wow." Was all anyone could say, it was from the greenest member of Red team, transferred in the day before from SWAT. The cavern was filled with bodies, or rather the remnants of bodies, most piled within a short distance of the entrance green team had come in. There were more scattered around the area, where they had fallen from the initial cannonade. None of the sacrificial victims were visible, or at least, none were recognizable as once having been human. "Look at the connecting tunnel."

A report was made to Lieutenant Peters, who told them to be certain there were no hostiles alive in the cavern before pushing through the connecting tunnel into the sacrifice chamber. That took what seemed like forever, but there was no gunfire from the other cavern so presumably blue team was still quietly waiting for the main show. Eventually the last of the demon wounded was finished off, and the teams assembled ready for the next phase, clearing a path down the access tunnel to the sacrifice chamber.

"Oh wow". The green kid said again. And he was green, from demon blood and bits. The connecting tunnel was where the demons that had retreated had staged a mass panic, trampling any who fell or were to injured to stand. The ones at the bottom had been ground to a paste, like some strange meaty substance that might be squeezed out of a toothpaste tube. Xander was still carrying the head, clearly having forgotten it as anything other than a useful weapon.

"Lieutenant Peters says advance to the ceremonial chamber." The message just appeared in the radio headphones they were all wearing, like a radio signal, but not. It was Willow. Harris gave a hand signal and they advanced, green team ahead slightly to scout, red team in three lines of four behind them. Wading slowly through the ankle deep goop, the colour teams headed down the rock passageway. It was eerie waiting for something to happen, creepy, then it did happen. Green team made contact again, so loud in this confined space as to be painful.

"Advance to contact, then lying, kneeling and standing as practised." Xander had been there for the practice, he had been careful to work with green team regularly so that they thought of him as part of the team, because he was. It was his idea to form three short lines in these narrow tunnels, at different heights, so they could fire over each other's heads. He had sold it to Lieutenant Petes as necessary for the mission. "Green team to the sides, DO IT PEOPLE."

There were Sixteen semi-auto 12-gauge shotguns, with 30 round magazines firing in the narrow tunnel into the tightly packed demons guarding the ceremonial chamber on this side. Each was rigged to fire a double tap, two closely spaced shots, one incendiary, the other Armour Piercing High Explosive. They left burning pieces of meat, looped intestine, and splashed blood. Treacherous underfoot, always likely to make you fall face down into it, but better than doing this with swords and crossbows. as the Scooby Gang would have had to without police support. And still one attack wave got close enough that Xander waded in with his sword and 'club'. The last surviving members of several demon species was here, determined to open the hellmouth and end the humans once and for all, or die in the attempt.

Well, they were achieving the 'die in the attempt' part of it anyway. The three lines did not all fire at once, there was always one reloading. Each man had entered the tunnel with a full, 50 lb backpack, with nothing but ammunition in magazines. With the ammunition brought in during the cavern cleanup by regular beat cops detailed for that purpose they were back at full loads before this attack.

Which was good, because they were chewing up ammo like it was in infinite supply. Green team had been down to their last magazines when red had arrived, but there was no one to back up anymore. If they ran dry they died, and then the human race died. End of story. Then it stopped.

"Kemosabe, me think it too quiet." Someone commented. The teams loaded fresh drum magazines, and walked slowly down the tunnel. They reached the ceremonial area without problems, and saw why. There had been a pitched battle here too, but with the noise of there own fight it was impossible to hear it. After all this it might be impossible to hear much anyway, though Giles had contacts who insisted the magical protection given would prevent noticeable loss of hearing. Everyone wanted to help, now that the battle against evil was in the open.

The Magic Box. Evening of the next day

"Giles, we made seven entire demon species extinct last night. Whatever happened to the PTB maintaining a balance." It was Willow, not critical, but raising a concern many in the magical and mystical community had felt. The Powers had put so much effort to 'maintaining the balance', and here they were tilting it in their favour, without so much as a visit from Whistler to say back off. "And Xander, maybe you should have put the head down before doing the press conference."

"Hey, I forgot I was carrying it, and they were right there talking to Peters, it's not like I had time to think about it." He was bandaged and a little sore, but otherwise ok. Another advantage of his Super Soldier genetics, the blow that snapped his shotgun early in the fight and slice through his hard plate Kevlar like cardboard would have killed a normal human. "And you've never complained about my head before."

"Children please, if this keeps up I will send you to bed without desert." Every so often Rupert Giles thought he as back dealing with 15 year olds, and tonight was one of those times. "Willow, the consensus seems to be that with the final battle for the entire plane of reality occurring in a year trying to maintain the balance is pointless."

"And if they want the balance restored and kept right up to the last day?" The former witch asked.

"Presumably they kill us all in our sleep. I intend to not worry about it, and you shouldn't either. We have a son at home to spoil rotten, and Faith and Dawn get back tomorrow, so you need your sleep."

It was 12 months and 11 days to Armageddon.

Chapter 5

The Magic Box, Saturday night.

When Rupert Giles had studied at Oxford, he had had a reputation as an intelligent, but strange young man. Principally this had to do with how seriously he took ancient mythology, reading and discussing it as if it related true events. In a field that was regarded as irrelevant by the Law, Economics, Politics and Computing students - i.e. everyone who was likely to get a job out of their studies - 'relevance' was becoming crucial, and in the wider academic world taking stories of heroes slaying monsters in the underworld seriously was considered just too silly for words.

Which was why he had, on the most visible wall of the Magic Box, a life size blow-up of the picture of Xander Harris after the Battle of the Caverns. It was a still from news footage, showing the construction manager walking out of the gloom into the TV lights, his hard shell kevlar gouged by obvious claw marks, holding a demons head in one hand and his bloody sword in the other. Each of the parallel marks in his armour leaked blood, his arm and face showed superficial cuts that also bled slowly, the very image of the hero 'head bloodied but unbowed'. The caption read '...and the slaying of the Grendal is just a myth...'

That the picture was sent to him by his old classics professor, using a quote from one of the management lecturers during a budget meeting as its text, pleased him mightily. It might be slightly juvenile of him to hold a grudge this long, but spending several years listening to people talking about how 'tough' and 'cut throat' business was had driven him to his Ripper days out of frustration. After all, none of the finance students was ever actually likely to have his throat cut, except while shaving. Pretentious little sods.

Willow Rosenburg Wilkins Harris had noticed that there was a related picture on the wall of the Artificial Intelligence laboratory. It was taken a few minutes after the one on Giles wall, and showed, from left to right, her, Xander, Giles and Buffy. Xander was still holding the sword and head, with his Night Vision goggles draped around his neck, Buffy dressed the same but holding one of the shotguns instead. The colour team members were around and behind them, not as clearly discernible, being mainly outside the pool of light from the TV crews. Above the picture read the words The Witch, The White Knight, The Scholar and The Spear Maiden. Having played Dungeons and Dragons is one of the crucial indicators of nerdity, according to the MIT Nerdity test. The red head, who almost alone of the regulars at either lab had not, was now held in a kind of superstitious awe.

These pictures, particularly the one of Xander, were becoming some of the iconic images of history. They were all the more memorable because the tale of how the small group had fought this battle alone, without modern weapons, as high school students, was now famous. That Giles had been the school librarian at the time had his photo on the 'must have' list of those in the field, the shortage of librarian action hero's being what it is. Kenneth Branagh had accepted the role of playing him in the upcoming movie. Life was getting stranger than usual, which is quite a statement for someone who had lived Rupert Giles life.

"Its an improvement over those furniture posters, anyway." The watcher muttered to himself, sitting on the couch after his shower. Or rather their shower, since Lt Peters had been in their with him. And him in her, for that matter.

"Furniture Posters?" the blonde asked.

"Xander has a small furniture business, its furniture for, ah, recreational uses, and they posed for..."

"THOSE REALLY ARE PICTURES OF FAITH AND BUFFY AND THE OTHERS? My god, I always thought the guys were just imagining it." The athletic blonde announced, clearly amazed and somewhat stunned.

"The guys, do you mean that the RRT members have a copy of one of those posters?" Giles asked. He had never seen one, though Anya being Anya she had offered to give him the complete set.

"All the team members have at least one. Why do you think they accepted Xander so quickly, it's not just that he has been fighting demons since he was 16?" The commander of the colour teams asked. "He has these amazing babes, and I agree on that they have serious babe qualifications, who have demonstrated the ability to kick the largest members of the team across the room, and they are totally loyal to him."

"Babes." Giles said, not feeling it appropriate to raise the point of Faith and her activities when away from Sunnydale. "Vannessa, are there ANY heterosexual women in this town?"

"Not that I know of."

The Luthor fertilizer plant, Smallville Kansas, Tuesday.

One of the werewolves was thrown off an overhead walkway to the floor of level 3, a long way down. Being a werewolf he was in no danger from the fall, but it had to have hurt like hell. Probably not as much as the loss of the arm it was holding did to the previous owner, however. It got up, waving the arm and howling defiance at the demons who still controlled much of this lowest basement area. There was an exhausted cheer from the humans and werewolves as he did so. Lex's mobile phone rang.

"Lex speaking." The purple clad one spoke in his usual slightly amused tone, ignoring the sound of battle around him.

"Did I catch you at a bad time Lex, I can call back later if you want." It was Clark, presumably having just finished his chores after school. Clark would never call before finishing his homework and farm work.

"Actually we're in the middle of a pitched battle right now in the fertilizer plant, the ammunition is running out, and I was hoping Oz would call to say a second wave of werewolves was coming...Clark, Clark are you..."

Something human sized and impossibly fast tore through the door behind him and went straight to the demon controlled area. Big scaled blue things flew off the upper level to the empty floor below, landing hard and sometimes being hit by green and red leathery looking creatures that were the other type of demon here. Within seconds all the demons were on the bare concrete floor, being blown to pieces by human firepower.

"Hi Lex, so, how are you?" The alien asked, standing next to his billionaire friend. The boy looked nervous, clearly he had something to say and was uncertain of how it would be accepted.

"Well frankly Clark, a lot better than it was a minute ago."

"Lex, I have a huge favour to ask."

"What is it Clark?" The organiser of the Smallville Babylon 5 apprecitation society asked.

"Can I borrow a car?" There was a pleading look in his eyes.

"Well Clark, I need to know what you want it for." Which was ridiculous of course, but the farmboy was so earnest and sincere - he had to play up to it, the elder brother role he was trying to fit into demanded it. Having saved his life yet again - Lex had stopped keeping track of how many times he had done that - the billionaire would have BOUGHT Clark a car if he asked. Nothing over $100,000.00 of course, Clark might feel guilty about something expensive.

"Willow, and Faith need me to drive them and Jake around, they can both drive of course but they get distracted any time they're sitting alone together." Hoping not to have to explain the details, the touching, joking, snuggling, kissing...on a couch, fine, while driving, very dangerous.

"Yes Clark, I have seen how, ah, distracted, they get. Actually I have been supplying a limo, but if you want to do drive them who am I to argue." They were out there somewhere in the factory, fighting did keep them focused on something other than the 'still newlyweds after all this time' mood. Jake was being looked after back in the castle.

Smallville High later that evening

Willow was looking for the school newspaper office, she had been given directions when the others went there to meet Chloe. She had needed to change Jake, and now was wandering the halls looking for her friends. She heard students talking and ducked her head into a room with a group of school kids sitting around tables playing some kind of board game.

"Hi, which way is it to the school newspaper office?" Everyone turned, then they stared at her, then they turned to posters on the wall, then they turned to her again. There was a poster like the one Giles had, but captioned, 'Theseus returns with the head of the Minatour'.

"You're her, Willow, the witch." Being recognized as Willow the witch had been very rare in her life, and mainly involved things with large teeth who recognized her as one of the slayers retinue. Before trying to turn her into dinner. Out of sheer reflex she dropped the diaper bag and created a ball of blue fire, enough to torch the room. She was pondering which of them looked the most decisive - always waste the leaders first - when the targeted individual spoke.

"Hold your fire, were friends, honestly." She spoke slowly and distinctly, clearly understanding what had nearly happened. Her father had talked about combat reflexes, about how embarrassing it was when, once on Rest and Recreation leave in Sydney, a waiter had dropped a tray of dishes and he dove over a table and came up shouting for his machine gunner. With Vietnam in full swing and a steady stream of grunts coming through the restaurant staff were used to it, but still... "We just recognized you from the posters, you can turn off the, whatever that is."

Jake, who was in a back pack/papoose type arrangement, except it was at the front, was looking fascinated at the pretty blue ball floating above his mothers hand. That said ball would have incinerated the girl in front of her, and the dozen people around her, as efficiently as a flame-thrower was obvious only to the red head. She was embarrassed, responding automatically with an offensive spell instead of defensive one was a 'Dark Willow' reflex. Faith and Clark stepped into the room, having gone looking for the young motherloverstill dangerous wicca.

"Everything all right, my love?" Faith asked, it seemed fine but you never know. Looking around the room the dark slayer noticed an odd mix of academia and game room. The posters were clearly temporary, there were piles of books on Mythology, history, demons, and the occult, but also some kind of board game and rule books for it, being played by groups. A school social club of some kind, then she looked at the name on the cover of the rule book. "We thought you might have gotten lost."

"Your Faith the Vampire Slayer, aren't you?" Another of the students commented. The ancient history teacher, who was not here now, had suddenly become a current affairs teacher in light of all the 'mythical' creatures that had turned out to be real. So the students with a D&D fixation had joined the history buffs and the very small wicca coven to merge their collective interests. Suddenly here were two of the living legends, along with Clark Kent, the alien, together. The conclusion was obvious.

"We're all going to die, aren't we, some terrible demon army going to attack the school tonight, right?"

"No the attack was on the Luthor Corps plant earlier today." Faith casually explained.

"We're just here to pick up Chloe and Lana for a victory orgy." Willow cheerfully added. It was the simple truth, and she was still coming down from the adrenaline rush of a near combat situation, and not thinking clearly.

"Victory orgy?" This was not something that was mentioned in the Greek myths. Or at least not in the texts their high school teacher thought appropriate reading material. "What about the baby?"

"Oh we have child minding arranged, and a containment spell to keep little Jake out of too much trouble." The witch looked down at her son's face, smiled at him, and said. "You're going to be nice for Uncle Lex, aren't you, 'cause your my precious little boy, yes you are?"

"Lex Luthor does your child minding?" was spoken in an amazed voice.

"Victory orgies are normal?" Said another.

"Can we join in?" A third asked.

"Yes, yes, and why not." Was Faith's response, since she always had followed up a hard nights slaying by finding a good man and being very bad with him. The 'hungry and horny' comment having not been intended as a joke, way back when. Chloe and Lana joined them, looking like they had started the party early but not gotten all that far. Lana spoke.

"Why don't we tell Lex and Carol to come over here instead of wasting time going over there? I know I'm too horny to wait." The two women kissed passionately, with tongue, hands, ripping sounds as clothing was removed, and desks and chairs going flying as they cleared a space on the floor. The history/role playing group starred goggle eyed, for most of them this tuesday night meeting was the height of their social calendar.

"Well we can't very well reject and important cultural tradition, can we." A would be anthropology student commented. She really meant it, of course, and the fact that she would finally have the opportunity to act on her fantasy had nothing to do with it. She knew exactly which guy she would suck while the other arse fucked her. No, this was about cultural anthropology, learning about a culture by respecting an participating in its rituals and observances. "If this is the way demon fighting is traditionally done than not having an orgy here and now would be an insult to our heroic guests."

And with that she grabbed one of the male students by the belt while pushing another to the floor. David Huskins, the boy on the floor got the idea and started pulling his pants off. He too was willing to respect the sanctity of this ancient cultural tradition. He saw Anika pull down her panties, showing she was a natural blonde after all. The way she managed to do it while getting Terry out of his pants and into her body showed a lot of planning for this moment. Then he felt her lips on him and sank back to the floor.

The younger Luthor arrived not long after, to have a baby thrust into his arms while he observed this amazing scene. He had only seen orgies as a participant before, having to do the responsible adult child minder while all this was happening around him was stunning. Carol, his girlfriend, watched with cool amusement and took him and the baby into another room. They had had their own celebration not long before, while the maid watched her two year old, Samantha. Now the two youngsters played on the staff room floor, while a different kind of play was occurring nearby.

"I hope the're finished before their parents arrive to drive them home." Carol was a Metropolis online bookstore owner, 25 years old, and had met his extreme wealthiness due to Chloe. The newspaper editor had seduced her one evening when Lex had taken her into the big city for a business and research trip.

The younger woman had seen something in her that indicated she would be potential girlfriend material for Luthor, who had never actually had a steady girlfriend. The threesome had been on the terms Clark had agreed to when she became his girlfriend. No sex with other men, women are ok, tell me afterwards, REMEMBER TO HAVE FUN. The alien was thoughtful that way, he always worried she was so busy making sure everyone else was enjoying the party she would be unable to have any herself.

Which was not as crazy as it sounded. She DID have a tendency to orchestrate rather than participate. The elder Kent child was dearly loved for this kind of thoughtfulness. And supplied with all the sex a sane man could handle as a compenstion, too. Virtue is its own reward, as Jonathan Kent was want to say.

"Did you ever think your life would work out this way." Lex asked, after hustling the children out of something they should stay out of for the hundredth time. The responsibility of having a girlfriend with a child was fundamentally different from being in business. True, some powerful men, such as his father, did not feel it, but they ultimatley failed as parents by treating their children as meerly necessary accessories to a career. The number whose response to the question 'how many children do you have' was a smirking 'none I'm aware of' said something. He was not sure what, but something. To hell with them.

"What, a single mother, abandoned by my family, and only getting a 'nice man' because I let a girl barely of age seduce me for a night of casual sex?" The younger Luthor took her hand, lifted it and kissed her gently, and her face softened. "Its ok, I'm not as bitter as I sound, but my family ABANDONED ME when they found out I was bisexual. God only knows what they would have done if they knew I was pregnant with my girlfriends husbands child."

The break up of the relationship with Lucy and the married couples move to London as part of his job HAD been bitter. It had seen her hit rock bottom, left with no family, no lover, no hope, and a 'take it and never contact us again' cheque from Lucy and her husband. Having to take the money because it was that or starve nearly destroyed her.

But the big advantage of hitting rock bottom is the only place you can go is up, and with a reasonable knowledge of the book trade gained from sales work she had turned the 'go die somewhere' cheque into an business. Actually starting on eBay, but it saved start up costs in a very uncertain time in her life. And enabled her to work at home while pregnant. It ws now getting big enough to sell for investment money, it was from her own efforts, and Lex was a font of management tips while encouraging her finaincial indepence.

Still, being called a 'perverted whore' by her mother while her father threw her belongings into the street would live with her forever. She watched Jake gnaw on a coloured block while Samantha tried to pull the HEAVY BOOKS OFF THE SHELVES...ok, crisis, over, her precious infant was not going to brain herself with an encyclopaedia, she was crying, not understanding why mommy was angry, but safe. Lex had actually grabbed her, and was now comforting the crying child. He looked at her.

"Have I told you today how much I love you?"

"Yes, but I won't object if you do it again."

"I love you."

Armageddon was 10 months away.

*****

Sunnydale, Saturday evening.

Dawn Summers had a serious taste for older pussy, at least that is how she phrased it to her mentor/lover, Sally Ride. Given that it was Sally who had introduced her to the joy of sex, and that Sally, being 19 to Dawn's 17, constituted an older woman from the keys perspective that may have been seen as inevitable.

What was not inevitable was how seriously Sally, a woman who had never had a romantic interest in men, took educating the younger woman in men, their use, abuse, dangers and rewards. She responded to questions about it by saying that she could be objective about these things, and that she had yet to meet a man who disliked being treated as a 'sex object', as long as it was a well-used sex object.

"Never leave a man wanting more, never act playful unless you are prepared to play, never insult his performance or equipment." Was the advice she had received, from her older sister, at the age of 15. She had realised quickly that while boys could make her come, if their 'whip it in, whip it out and wipe it' tendencies could be controlled, she really fantasised about girls.

Learning how much help she could get from the boys in question to get the girls, if they were allowed to play too, was the most important discovery of her young life. A guy in high school had noticed her drooling over his girlfriend – he had politely wiped the sides of her mouth and commented on it – and said 'Sally, she won't swing that way, I already asked'.

"Do you mind if I try anyway?" She had responded. Her whole life changed when he, then the softly curved brunette they both lusted after, agreed.

The older woman was Xander Harris's personal assistant, and had taken on the task of 'educating' the youngest slayer partly because it sounded like fun, and partly because she wanted to help the slayerettes. They were famous heroes, after all, and helping hero's save the world by fucking one of them senseless seemed like serious fun. Being the experienced older woman in a relationship was weird, she always pictured Susan Sarandon in the role, preferably naked and holding a feather boa, but ego boosting.

"Sally, I'm so nervous, I mean I know I'm doing the right thing, but Buffy gets so protective." They were in the temple of Shala, the Karnak goddess of fertility, and by extension, wealth-producing activity generally. It was on the third floor of the Dewey, Cheetem and Howe building, which was named after the Karnak law firm that owned it.

Actually, it WAS the third floor, and a fascinating place to visit. Which they had with increasing frequency, leading to Dawns decision that in turn led to this meeting. Dawn was the first slayer in history to have the full facts of her nature and needs, at least since the Watchers Council was formed. The Karnak had felt honoured by her first visit, had told her and Sally of their religion and its relevance to her special needs as a slayer.

"The rest was my decision, and I stand by it." Dawn said, though a little nervously, it was a big step. The ritual of bathing and changing into temple robes helped calm and clear her mind. Sex with Sally and a Karnak couple who happened to be there at the time helped even more. Or rather, the four of them had 'attained the blessing of Shala'. This was her temple, after all, a place to cleanse the soul and heal the spirit.

Buffy, Anya and Xander had walked in a while before, with Anya dragging a clearly reluctant elder Summers in to the bathing room. The vengeance demon understood the rituals of this religion for centuries, and Xander had been polite and respectful, if not extremely horny, when the details were explained. In particular he had totally failed to object when the brunette had insisted on visiting and partaking of the ritual with various other worshippers. Buffy on the other hand was on her first visit.

"Xander, your certain you are totally ok with this, with what just happened?" Buffy asked. She uncertain and uncomfortable with the whole situation. Dawn had refused to explain what was so important it had to be discussed here. Anya and Xander had made it clear that yes, the ritual bath and change of clothes was necessary, yes it has to be in the temple bath area, no, there was no separate men's and women's change area. "I just had sex with another man in a church."

"No Buffy, you didn't, please at least try to be polite and pay attention." Dawn was nervous and angry, this was important to her and Buffy just would not listen. It was not as if she had not tried to explain it before, or that the basics were not a matter of open discussion in the house, not with Anya around to tell all. "This is a temple to the goddess, a goddess I deeply believe in, and you just attained her highest sacrament. I know, I heard you."

"YOU BELIEVE DEEPLY IN, when did this happen, does it have anything to do with why we are here?" The blonde was feeling more disoriented now, and wondering what revelation was coming. She had never been comfortable with her little sister's acquiring a sex life, and avoided learning the details. She lacked the deep down comfort with public discussion of sex that seemed so central to Anya's personality, so the discussions of what happened here had been mentally blocked out, to some extent. And having sex with someone she knew nothing at all about had never been her style, certainly not when a man she was growing to love and who loved her was there to watch. "Xander isn't comfortable with this either, I can tell."

"Dawn, its not like that, you know I totally support you." The crushed look on the youngest woman's face was more than he could bare. She had gone a long way out on a limb in search of inner peace, and it that search led here, than so be it. "Dawn, you're more like a daughter to me than my lovers sister, I know that sounds strange with the small age difference but its how it is. Not many dads are comfortable with their daughter's love lives."

"That and the fact that he hasn't watched Buffy with another male before." Anya breezily commented. And the BIG question he had for the slayer, he was so nervous.

"Buffy, I'm converting." Dawn said, before the whole conversation bogged down again.

"Converting to what?" Buffy asked, honestly puzzled.

"The worship of Shala. I have been accepted into the priesthood." There, it was said, what she had brought them together for. Well, it was her part anyway, now Xander had to ask his bit. "It's a three year training period before ordination, but, with the permission of the head of my order, I can marry people already. That's what the sex in the bathroom thing was about."

"I had sex in the bathroom so you could become a priest?"

"No Buffy, you had sex in the bathroom so you could become my wife." Xander responded. The others had agreed and done what was required with varying degrees of wonder, enthusiasm, and horniness. Buffy would always be the tough one. "I can't have our relationship, our collective relationship, formally recognised in any other religion. The three of you would only be my wives, not each others as well."

"WIVES?" Was this what she thought it was? Then she saw Xander drop to one knee in front of her.

"Buffy Summers, will you join me in marriage with Willow, Faith and Anya."

"I had to have sex in church so you could marry me?" Said the blonde slayer, still trying to work it out. She reviewed what she knew. Traditionally only a female with children could marry, preferably fathered by someone other than the prospective groom. The fertility goddess would frown on a union between any who had not sought out Her Blessing, for its own sake. "Of course I did, no children, so you have to be able to swear to have seen me come from a male just for the pleasure. For Her Blessing alone."

"Buffy, stop torturing the poor man and say yes." Sally commented. Hopefully yes, because having already gained a yes from the rest of the group a no would devastate the White Knight.

"Yes Xander, I will marry you, Willow, Faith and Anya." The blonde kissed her husband to be, then her wife to be. "Can we go home and have sex now?"

"Buffster, remember where you are." Dawn said sternly. Would she have to keep reminding this heathen of proper conduct indefinitely?

"Ok, Xander, can we go into one of those alcoves with the big mattresses and have an orgy now?" Came the reply, as the slayer removed the robe. The temple had a large atrium with rooms lining the sides, rooms for those seeking Her Blessing. There were no doors, of course, since group sex was a form of prayer here, and excluding passers by sacrilege.

"Dawn, of course I am happy for you, but don't you need my permission, your still legally a child?" Anya was kissing her way up Buffy's right leg, starting from her foot. Xander was being undressed by a female Karnak who had been observing for a few minutes now. She looked like a naked woman, and from recent experience with that male, when aroused and in true form would feel totally human too. Anya had commented that that was her experience of fucking them too. "Oh, yes, keep doing that, oh yes…"

"Karnak define 'of age' as when you can have children of your own. Most human cultures traditionally do to." Dawn assumed her sister could still understand what was being said. Observing her sister doing this felt weird, but a priest of Shala could hardly turn away from the sight. "Sally, I have a class starting in half an hour."

"Do you want me to drive you there?" The priest in training's lover asked.

"No, it's a class down the hall on how to give erotic massage to women. They need non trainees to practice on, please join us."

"You had but to ask."

Watchers Council headquarters, England, the same day.

The explosion blew in the wall, shredding the people in the room with fragments of the stone work. Quentin Travers had been addressing a full meeting, which was trying to invent a response to the total collapse of everything the council believed was needed and right. That the end of the world was coming, and that the whole world was being prepared by current events to prepare for it, was irrelevant. They had lost control of the slayer, and they wanted it back.

The decision to eliminate the council had not been taken lightly, more from the irrelevance of that organization than remorse over the loss of lives. Lionel Luthor had joined this meeting, supposedly to 'help return the slayer to her proper place'. Actually the elder Luthor was trying to sabotage the anti-demon campaign. The council could not do much, but it was to be a start. His presence ensured the death of all that day.

"Tragic, absolutely tragic." The first observer commented.

"The loss of life?" The second asked. Her partner had never been squeamish before.

"The loss of a fine example of Norman architecture, simply tragic." The entire castle was gone in the second explosion. The first had been to ensure the core group's destruction, and a hidden camera had shown them the deaths. A larger bomb had taken down the larger structure, just to be sure. "Still, better to slay twice than fail once."

And they drove away at the speed limit, not having anything incriminating in the car and not wanting to be booked for something as silly as speeding. Not leaving any trace in official paperwork that they were ever present was a practiced routine. Lex would be formally informed when they had confirmed the kills. Given their connections to the law enforcement community, that would be by actually viewing the corpses in the morgue, or whatever forensic evidence was used to identify them.

"Catherine, your place or mine?"

"Mine David, I have a new porno I think you might enjoy."

It was Six months and two days to Armageddon.

Chapter 6

The desk of the dark slayer.

Faith Wilkins Rosenburg, CPA, sat in her office at Harvey, Norman and Bates, contemplating life in its variations and diversity. She was now famous, and not simply as 'the second slayer', or 'psycho slut', but as a hero who helped save the world regularly. She was married to a woman she loved more than life itself, plus two others she was very fond of, and a man she respected. So the information she was reviewing disturbed her more than it might in her younger days, all of five years ago.

One, or rather at least one, of the scoobies was not going to survive the end of days. The prophecies were clear on that, the description of two slayers and 'the companions' could be no other group. They spoke of '...surviving members of the heroic band's shock and awe at the diminution of their numbers...' and all she could hope was that Willow was one of the grieving, not the grieved about. It was selfish, it was shallow, but the red head and their child were her world.

"I'm an expendable asset, after all, I'm a slayer, and it's in the job description." The dark slayer was well aware she was, 'in slayer years', an old woman. She was 21 after all, of the thousands of slayers in the Council records; fewer than 400 had lived to be over 18. "Ok, so the Crucimentum had something to do with that, but still, 21 is the equal of a normal person living to be 100 or something."

This was the sort of situation that Xander might best be consulted on. He had always acted as if everyone else was more important than him. All right, as a Super Soldier he was virtually unkillable, they had been known to re-assemble themselves from dismembered chunks of bloodied, burnt flesh, BUT HE HADN'T KNOWN THAT AT THE TIME.

It seemed fitting, somehow, that this document was his analysis based on a discovery by Chloe Sullivan. She had noticed it, and its importance, which was more than so many Karnak Chroniclers had. The demon race was relentlessly logical, orderly, organised and systematic - can we say 'born accountant' - but imagination was severely lacking. The Smallville blonde was being paid $100 an hour after tax because she had investigative journalist ability to piece together clues in a way the Karnak could not. Apparently the Chroniclers thought they had a bargain at the price.

"Xman will help protect Willow, she's his oldest friend, he'll protect her, and he won't let me down." The former convict was obsessing on this, and she knew it, but what else could she do. Armageddon was coming, and the archives could not predict anything at all about what would happen after. "I can't let them get lost in all the 'big picture' thinking about this, and they will if we're not careful."

She would have been surprised at how differently Xander Harris saw the situation.

The owner's office, White Knight Construction

The analysis did not change; regardless of how many different ways he did it. The whole universe was up for grabs, and every species in it. This was the final battle between good and evil for this entire plain of reality. The human race was being asked to defend the existence of every other non-demon species, and for that matter some of the demon species too.

The alien invasion was planned for the same day as the Evil One's arrival, by some miracle of Karnak influence. Hopefully the two would kill each other off, leaving only the survivors for humanity to deal with. They had better, the aliens were so far in advance technically only divine intervention, or in this case satanic intervention, could really allow victory against them. Victory was assured, by prophecy; it was the cost he was concerned about.

"After all, the extermination of the human race would be a small price to pay if we save millions of other intelligent species. We are all His children, after all" the former Zeppo muttered to himself.

The Karnak were keeping their contacts off planet a closely guarded secret, because the Consortium, the humans working for the alien invaders, had contacts everywhere. The demons had contacts with a rebel group of aliens who had been fighting without real hope of victory for untold millennia, and who had their foes infiltrated. "If I had spies planted high enough to get final invasion plans altered like this I wouldn't tell me anything important about it either."

This seemed to be putting an enormous amount of faith in the Karnak, but what else could he do. As one of the few - actually the only, as far as he was aware - humans who knew the real situation, he was a security risk. But then, he wasn't entirely human either, and maybe they trusted his genetically programmed personality more than the product of random genetic mixing by old-fashioned procreation.

"But they didn't program me, humans did." Humans who would still be alive, after Armageddon, if this prophecy was true. Faith was horrified at the idea of their being only a few scoobs left. He was grateful beyond words that there were supposed to be ANY survivors. Hopefully they would not be the only humans left alive, but with the stakes this high someone looking only at 'the big picture' might think having to restart the human race at Adam and Eve level was acceptable. "Collateral Damage is an interesting concept, when you think about it."

"I hope Willow and Jake come out of this intact, I'll talk to Faith about it, I can count on her to put them first."

Area 51 maximum-security vault

Getting a mixed vampire and feyoral demon attack force this big together, and then getting them in position to attack this important an installation was the most incredible feat of criminal planning in recent history. But it had worked, they were inside, and the 'apparatus' was already loaded for removal. So were other interesting items, like the UFO from the Roswell crash, but that was for the money to be obtained from sale.

But the real prize was an apparatus invented by humans, in fact by the physics team at the University of California, Sunnydale, based on studies of Willow Rosenburg Wilkins. Working on the principle that 'you can't do anything that is physically impossible' they had felt that her magic had to involve scientifically study able, and therefore reproducible, principles.

As is routine in pure scientific research, they had discovered something totally unexpected that was vastly more valuable than what they had actually set out to find. This is so common in science there is a term for it, Serendipity, and another term, Synergism, for a third thing that results from the interaction of two others that could not have produced it independently. The interaction of the two concepts is central to advanced research, a key to why people bother to do it. The new things that come out interest them, such as the apparatus that resulted from the synergistic reaction of their quantum mechanical work and their study of Wicca Magic.

In this case, it was interest in the sense of the old Chinese curse 'may you live in interesting times.' The 'apparatus' generated a field that transformed any matter that crossed it, such as atoms in the air, or toxic sludge, into energy. It had a potential to eliminate the entire energy production industry and replace it with absolutely clean power.

One kilogram, or 2.2 pounds, of anything going into the field generated energy the equivalent of 20 million tons of TNT, or one thousand Hiroshima size atomic bombs. It had been instantly classified ULTRA secret, the level above Top Secret, and moved here. The demons, working directly under orders from the First Evil, believed what he did, that it was a cover up to protect corporate interests from competition.

The Evil One needed it to open, and KEEP OPEN, a dimensional gate that could pass his demons from hell to Earth. With the carnage of the last year or so, He needed to bring an army with him, because the one he had been expecting to find already there was mostly dead. The energy demands of such a gate were beyond any magic to produce, for more than a few seconds.

The logic was flawless, but proceeded from a false premise. The 'apparatus' was not being kept secret to protect corporate interests, except in the sense that preventing the planet from being blown up was in the interests of big business.

The Kent farm, Kansas

"Mulder, I'm so nervous, what if they hate us on sight, what if they decide we can never see William again, what if..." Dana Katherine Scully was not so much nervous as frightened out of her wits. Nothing in 10 years with Fox Mulder had terrified her as much as meeting the parents who had adopted her son. Giving him up for adoption had been the hardest thing she had ever done, but with the Consortium's remnants and the Genetic Super Soldiers after them it had been the only safe thing to do. Even if they were found and killed the boy, would be safe.

Fox Mulder was trying to comfort his wife, but he himself was too worked up to be able to drive, which was why Lex had insisted on taking them himself. The Kents were apparently so wholesome and all American it was sickening, but that just meant they would be likely to reject as bizarre a couple as the Mulder's. He looked at the farmhouse as they drove up with badly disguised fear, expecting failure, not knowing if his beloved Scully would be carried out by him, or be carrying him out, after a total collapse.

They got out of the car and walked up to the front door, which Clark opened. Mulder looked at Jonathan and Martha Kent, who's picture he had seen but Scully had refused to even look at, not wanting to see the face her son would grow up calling 'Mommy.' The red headed former agent had refused to learn anything about Martha Kent, finding it simply too painful. Now she looked at the woman in front of her, and the farm wife looked at her, and both faces changed.

"Katherine, is it really you, I thought you married a dentist in Philadelphia?" Martha Kent said. Mulder was immediately on guard; he knew the context Scully used the name Katherine in.

"Mar, my god, Mar, I never thought I would see you again, I..." Then the two women rushed towards each other and kissed with violent intensity. Martha was the larger of the two, and kept moving forward a little after blocking Scully's momentum.

"Well Mulder, at least we know Martha and Scully get along." Lex commented. Jonathan Kent was in shock, staring at the scene before him. He had expected to find out certain things about Dana Scully, but that she was a natural red head was not one of them. Having Lex Luthor and this Mulder guy learn that Martha was a natural blonde, who dyed her hair black in college because she thought as a brunette she would be taken more seriously and never got out of the habit, was certainly something he had not expected either.

"As long as no one expects me to try and get along with Mr Kent that well ..." The former agent said it with a smile, but meant it. Scully's tastes were not a secret, at least to him, but he had always wondered why she went for women with a certain look. Now he knew.

It was Martha's look.

"Martha, maybe you should move to the bedroom with your, ah, friend, Martha, Martha, can you hear me, testing, testing, one, two, three, four... Oh what's the use?" Jonathan Kent looked around to find that Clark had vanished, presumably as soon as he saw his dear mother rip another woman's slacks and panties down in one smooth, practiced motion.

"Mr Kent, perhaps we should adjourn to the Talon for coffee and leave the ladies to it. I don't think either you or Mr Mulder look ready to join in, or likely to let the other live if you did." Lex Luthor had seen many scenes like this before, the whole 'Club Zero' thing came to mind, and Mulder seemed blasé about it, but Jonathan was in shock. At least he was not shouting or going for a shotgun, which was promising of some kind of civilised arrangement coming out of this.

"The Talon?" Mulder asked.

"A coffee shop in town, converted from a movie house, it was Lana's idea actually, and we're partners. Best coffee and Danish in Kansas, I guarantee it." The billionaire had bought a franchise from Xander Harris, after tasting some pastries Faith had brought out on one of her visits. It was the only one in Kansas, and if there was one thing Xander Harris had ALWAYS been accepted as an expert on it was delicious, empty calories to go with coffee. In Lex Luthor's far from humble opinion they really did have the best Danish in the state.

"Yeah Lex, coffee, great, should we lock the door?" He could not believe what he was seeing; Scully had her WHOLE HAND in Martha's...

"Just get your keys and lock up. I'm leaving a note so when they finish they can join us." The boy billionaire said. He had experience at things like this, and so he made a call to the castle, getting extra bedrooms ready. The unresisting form of the elder male Kent was moved out by Mulder, who also had already moved Jeff Kent, aka William Scully, to the limo. The only surviving Luthor arranged babysitting during the drive. The youngest Kent had stayed overnight before and had his own room.

"Mr Mulder, I do hope you and your wife can come to my wedding." Lex announced. He was assuming Scully and Martha Kent would be off the kitchen floor by then. "I'm holding it here in Smallville, in four months."

"Four months, and here in Smallville, isn't that a little odd for a man in your position?" For someone of Lex's wealth and fame a wedding with thousands of guest, and entertainment expense sheet like a medium size nation's defence budget was more normal. Mulder had been the FBI's best profiler, after all, he KNEW people, had a real interest in how they thought.

"Well I had planned to wait a year, but a friend of Clarks, Chloe Sullivan, became very insistent that it had to be before her birthday, so I decided to combine the two." Actually Chloe had looked a little panicked about her birthday, like the world was going to end or something. It was just her 18th, after all. "The whole Sunnydale crew will be here, you both know at least some of them, and Oz and his werewolves will be invited. It should be quite a blast."

None of them noticed the truck unloading a large, odd-looking apparatus into a building being renovated down the street. It was a small town and people noticed new people, but with the need for new business investment no one pushed too hard in case they were scared off. The plane from Nevada had unloaded at a small field an hours drive away, and disappeared at low level to the Bermuda Triangle, where a crash would be faked. Some of the deepest water in the world is in the area, and no recovery crew would find out that the apparatus stolen so violently was resting in a quiet farm town.

It was four months minus one day to Lex Luthor's wedding.

It was four months to Chloe Sullivan's 18th birthday.

It was four months to Armageddon.

Chapter 7

Kent Farm, morning.

"Do you love her?" Jonathan Kent asked.

"As often as possible." His wife responded. She knew perfectly well what he meant, but the response had been automatic. The subject was Dana Katherine Scully, the birth mother of their youngest adopted son and the only woman Martha Kent had ever loved. They had lost track of each other years before either had met the man in her life, and due to various factors not found each other again until recently.

"Do you love me?" Which was the heart of the matter from the farmer's perspective.

"Yes, I love both of you, no, I will not choose between you." It was not the first time this subject had been broached in he past couple of months. But he had not asked her directly before, or, to be fare, asked Martha to stop 'seeing' Katherine. Who now went by Scully, she hastened to remind herself again. "Jonathan, I know it's a lot to ask of you, but I lost twenty years with her, and I don't see her every day, so when she is here I focus on her, that doesn't mean I am going to leave you for her."

That was the heart of the matter from the viewpoint of both males involved, Mulder had never been threatened by Scully's bisexuality because none of the women she took to bed – admittedly normally THEIR bed, which helped – meant much to her. Martha, on the other hand, on the other hand, represented true love lost and found, and neither man was comfortable with it for that reason. It meant sharing a place in their respective woman's hearts, and neither had ever done that, or seriously thought they would have to.

"Showers' free." Dana Scully said, as she stepped into the Kent's bedroom, drying herself as she talked. She made no attempt to hide her nudity from her girlfriend's husband, after making love to his wife on the kitchen floor at the first meeting it would be odd. She was careful not to walk in on him in the shower, etc, because she thought it basic politeness, and because it would trigger Mulder's paranoia. "Mr Kent, I have no intention of taking anyone from you, but I will never consent to not telling them I love them either."

Thus neatly bringing the whole William Scully/Jeff Kent issue, which they had been trying to tread carefully around. The adoption was legal, Mulder and Scully had no way of contesting it, but here they were, a major part of the Kent's lives now, and the eldest male Kent could not get the question 'who is he going to call daddy?' out of his head. The women had settled on Mom, and 'Your Mother' which they see seemed to think workable, but he had grave doubts about it. Therefore the 'dad' and 'your father' distinction seemed a problem.

On the other hand he was way beyond the limits of his social flexibility. He had grown up in a small town environment where marrying a divorcee was classed as daring, and unwed mothers left town never to be seen or heard from again. So he was proud of not breaking down entirely when his wife took a lesbian lover who was married AFTER the birth of her part genetically engineered/part alien son, who had telekinetic powers and the ability to drive off demons and Super Solders just by being alive and could open sealed UFO's by being brought into their immediate vicinity.

Of course, the fact that Jeff was only part alien and part some other kind of genetic engineering, while his oldest son was entirely alien, but, apparently, a different breed of alien, further confused matters. With the menagerie thing Clark was in with Chloe and Lana, and the werewolves and demon hunters who had befriended him, well, Jonathan was just falling back on his fund of cliché's and dealing one day at a time.

"Martha, have you mentioned that thing we talked about last night?" Scully asked, quietly.

"What thing?" Jonathan asked. Scully seemed to be prompting her lover to speak about something without saying it outright. She seemed nervous.

"Mrs Hagarty."

"Mrs Hagarty, the High School Librarian, what about her?" the male of the group asked. Martha was giving Scully a look; clearly she was not totally happy with raising this subject.

"Well there's this prophecy, and it seems to apply to …"

White Knight Construction, the manager's office. "The world ends in two months, you and I know that but almost no one else does. And that's the way it stays." They had been discussing this since the time, two months ago, when they had learned that the entire Scooby gang would be in Smallville for Armageddon, with a large group so Oz's werewolves. And that prophecy said they would grieve at their losses after. "We can't avoid this, we have to be there, it's all up to us, AGAIN. But I do plan to get Jake out of the fight, he is going to be grieving us, not us him."

And that was the bottom line, from Xander's perspective. That there be survivors to do the grieving, preferably people who knew them, but at least human people. Faith was more optimistic, hoping to see her son graduate, hoping to be called grandma. The construction manager was glad for a prophecy that there would be members of the gang alive to grieve him, but he had beaten prophecies before, they could be slippery bastards. They were never, ever to be totally trusted.

"We could warn them, tell them what was coming."

"And we will, I've warned Lex, he has evacuation planned, all the non- combatants will be moved to a safe house outside Metropolis, guarded by some of Oz's werewolves." And that was the best they could do, it had to be someplace not known to be owned by Lex or the Karnak, just in case, and the werewolves were not used to fighting together as a unit, so defending the wounded and non combatants was the best use for them. "But whatever is going down, it's in Smallville, and everyone in town knows all of us are due for the party, so everyone they might know has to show up."

"Why would they suddenly show that kind of planning ability, for Christ's sake they still haven't learned to bring guns?"

"They stole some kind of ultra secret power plant, straight out of Area 51. Supposedly the plane carrying it crashed in the Bermuda triangle, but I don't believe that for a second, and the Karnak Chroniclers agree with me." He was pensive, trying to keep his mind clear and focused, it was too important to allow emotions to cloud his judgement. "The big fight is still going to be elsewhere, but apparently the plant can send power to anywhere, Willow tried to explain it to me but… Something big is going to happen in Smallville, something crucial."

University of California, Sunnydale, quantum physics lab. "Stolen, what do you mean, stolen?" Willow asked. The power plant had been moved to 'a secure location' specifically because it had turned out to be something no one sane would ever use. "Don't they know how dangerous it is?"

"Maybe they don't care."

"They can't win if they're all dead."

"We're winning, we're destroying the army Satan was expecting to have waiting for him. So he has to bring one, which means opening and keeping open a gateway between the dimensions, that needs more energy than can be supplied any other way. So if they don't take the risk, the Evil One has to give up."

"So they decide to use a power plant that explodes if you look at it funny, hundreds of Megatons at the minimum, rather than give up the plan.' The red head thought about it for a minute, then added. "Greed that knows no bounds, that does not care about consequences, even to your allies, well he is the source of all evil, isn't he?"

Two months to Armageddon

Chapter 8

Smallville Kansas, Armageddon day, a little after noon

Lex was in charge of the security element when the demons attacked the evacuation site. He had some werewolves for close in security, Smallville was an urban area in tactical terms and hand-to-hand was always a possibility. But he himself was using one of the 30 round shotguns, which he had practiced conscientiously with after training from a former Marine on his security staff.

So when the attack came he raised the weapon to his shoulder and started double tapping the howling mass. Always raise the weapon and aim properly, even at touching distance, was the thing he needed to remember at this point, his instructor drilled that into him.

"Never do that movie star shit with the gun at the waist. You can miss an elephant at 10 feet when it's real, even if you can hit a mouse on the moon in practice." The man had leaned directly over him, face inches away, glaring. "AIMED FIRE PEOPLE, ONE ROUND ON TARGET IS WORTH A THOUSAND IN THE GENERAL DIRECTION, AM I CLEAR!"

Green blood sprayed over him from whatever it was he just decapitated. The fight was claw to claw, teeth and jaws for the most part, but the billionaire kept cool, aimed fire going out despite it. Lex had turned a loss making plant in a nowhere town into a personal fiefdom partly by paying competent people for advice and then LISTENING to it, this was no different.

"Yes Gunnery Sergeant, aimed fire Gunnery Sergeant, no movie star shit Gunnery Sergeant."

It was over during his third magazine, which was good because that was the limit of his ready ammunition. The time lost changing magazines had been exciting enough, three had charged him during the slack in fire and the lower arm of one was still dangling by a claw from his jacket. Actually from the chain mail sewed into the jacket, he would have to thank the tailor properly for suggesting it. The muzzle of the shotgun had been pressed against the creature's chest for that one, resulting in another coating of demon guts soaked into his clothes.

"My god Lex, are you all right?" Carol asked, clutching the terrified Samantha to her chest. It had been necessary to make the party look right, like it was a group of unsuspecting demon hunters having a few days off. He kept telling himself that, had been for the months leading up to it. It was true, which did not make seeing his new wife and child threatened like this any easier.

"Fine Carol, not a scratch on me. Now please get into the bus, I need you to set an example, people will be nervous." The purple clad one said, while handing his empty magazines over for refill and getting another. There were more people willing to take risks than able to fight for this, so he had a small logistics staff to keep ammo coming, reload mags, see to the wounded, etc, he was a businessman, organising was what he did. His wife of one day reached over to his cheek and touched him, then showed him her hand.

"What's this then." There was blood, a lot of it, and a medic began putting a bandage on his face. He touched the area; the slice went from upper left ear to near his mouth. Not too deep, certainly not through the cheek entirely, but it would leave an impressive scar. After some more futile tugging at the arm he took off the jacket, cut off the individual claws with a knife, and replaced the jacket without the annoying extra weight.

"A scratch, didn't notice." And he hadn't, in fact Lex had no memory of how it happened. Presumably he was so focused on killing the demon in question it slipped below his level of 'important enough to notice'. He had been warned this sort of thing happened in combat, well, now it had. "And I still need you to take my daughter and leave, because this is not a disciplined evacuation, it will only work if everyone sees it working. If you go the others are more likely to believe I have it all organised and go too, if you don't they will stay and worry everyone and it falls apart."

And then he turned away and went back to the work of the day, relying on her to do what they both knew was needed. The medics were treating injured werewolves, wounded demons were being finished off – after Faith lost a leg to a 'surrendered' Feyoral demon taking prisoners had stopped – panicked citizens were being rounded up for the convoy. Busses were being used partly because, with windows removed via gun but, they gave high visibility and a clear field of fire against ambush.

The dark slayer, with the stump of her left leg wrapped and on a light morphine dose, was in the lead guard jeep, shotgun in hand, visibly still in the fight. She had insisted, the main fight needed legs but guarding the convoy only required the demon detecting ability and amazing aim she still had. And it was good for morale to have a slayer with the non-combatants.

The string of vehicles left, and would be back in an hour, the safe house was 'over the horizon'; therefore hopefully out of the blast radius if it went badly wrong. Out, unload, return, minus any time for fighting, the battle might be over before they were back. The next one was loading up, he had insisted the town mayor organise just such an evacuation 'in case demons attack the town, it is happening all over the world madam mayor', so the police, buss drivers, school teachers etc had practiced this people in their cars first, escorted to avoid traffic problems and show where to go.

California women's prison, 12.37 Smallville time, same day.

"They got Faith stoned and THEN handed her a loaded automatic weapon, are they insane?" The guard commented, for once something guards and prisoners could agree on. The young, dark haired woman was well- remembered figure here, particularly by anyone who had pissed her off and lived to tell the tale. Officially that was everyone, of course, since nothing bad ever happens in a nice, well run jail like this one, and all the people who are found dead in the showers are suicides. Stabbing yourself 15 times in the back and then hiding the weapon seemed to be a favourite method here.

Some prisoners had TV in their rooms, others preferred the recreation room, but everyone was glued to a set watching the war. Coverage had started suddenly, with a crew from a celebrity gossip show that had covered the Luthor wedding the day before, then moved to Armageddon, which is actually a place in Israel, when a huge shimmering disk had appeared and demons started pouring out.

"No, they're desperate, well, wouldn't you be?" The demons in the Middle East were making heavy going of it, with an Alien invasion fleet attacking them in low, slow, passes. The regions armies, which had been quietly briefed to expect this, were mobilising while letting the bad guys kill each other.

So far the aliens were losing badly, after all a B-29 bomber had shot down the UFO at Roswell in 1947, and human technology had improved hugely since then, while the aliens were static. And of course, Clark Kent had finally acquired his flying ability, and was very active in the mid-eastern skies this day. "Whatever the bastards in Smallville are up to its good the slayers were there to fight them."

With Faith crippled, Buffy partially digested when whatever had eaten her was cut in half by Xander, who himself was minus his left arm; things were indeed desperate in Kansas. The only consolation was, as everyone here seemed to agree, there had to be a limited number of demons in the town, because their presence had been kept secret. Keeping the authorities in the dark about planned illegal activities being something individuals here could knowledgeably discuss, and the consensus was that while reinforcements might have come in before the state troopers cut the highway, the bad guy had to be nearly all gone. Of course, that did not mean they would not last longer than the good guys, or finish whatever they were doing before dying.

The Talon Coffee Shop, Smallville, 12.45, Internet café area.

Chloe Sullivan felt strange to be here, on line, while the rest fought it out for the fate of the world. But this was her part of it, to co-ordinate with the Karnak Chroniclers and, through them, the governments fighting the final conflict. She had cameras all over town, a telephone line to Lex and Giles, and was passing on and interpreting what happened for the demonic accountants, who's contacts were still crucial to all this.

"Miss Sullivan, we have no reports on one of the Scoobies, Anya, she seems to be missing."

The virtual reality was absolutely realistic, if she didn't know better she would really have thought she was here. Thinking about that was better than remembering the bitter reality she had to convey.

"She changed, when the gate at Armageddon opened she reverted, she was still an evil demon after all, a vengeance demon and Xander had to, had to…"

"Kill his mate." Jane Smith, her Karnak demon supervisor, quietly added. Jane had been ordered not to be in Smallville for the battle, once Chloe proved there actually would be one here. She had apologised for therefore missing the blonde's birthday, and now seemed saddened beyond words at what the youngest male scoob had had to do. "He had to take the life of a woman he loved, a possible mother of his children, to protect the rest of us. And, of course, being the man he is, he did it."

"Yes." Cloe said.

The demon visibly forced herself to change focus, to move past this subject.

"And how goes the battle?"

"Fighting started when the total conversion field was turned on at 11.15 am, which is also when the Evil One arrived and opened the gate to hell. The power plant set off Willow, she could feel it and warned the rest." And then the killing happened. She was reviewing known data, which both had found useful as preparation to explaining the present and predicting future actions. "Clark had already gone to fight the UFO's, so Buffy walked over with Willow to check out the problem and something ate her when she walked in the door. The witch fireballed the room, then went for help, chased by a mixed group of demons."

Willow had been unable to give a coherent explanation, 'we walked in and it ate Buffy' was the clearest they had. It was, of course, the highest probability way for the blonde slayer to die. Anything that just walked up to her was dead meat, she WAS the older slayer to ever live and experience tells, the blonde student thought.

She could see the power plant, or rather the energy conversion field, through an open door. They had only used enough force to destroy the doorway area, damaging the plant was unthinkable.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why is damaging the plant unthinkable?" Jane seemed genuinely confused, despite the briefings she had had and the additional study entered into.

"Because it converts matter into its equivalent energy, at 20 megatons per kilogram of mass, because any damage to the apparatus, or just not shutting down properly, caused the field to not collapse right, and swallow an unpredictable amount of surrounding matter before hand, and where the energy then generated will be released is any ones guess."

The blonde was puzzled, Jane knew this, Chloe had personally been briefed on it BY the demon, not the other way around.

"Because the field generates it power by converting air blown through it with a fan, but will convert anything touching it, possibly overloading the safeties and destroying the device while sending a humungous amount of power to wherever it is being used. In this case Israel, and the energy release would be equal to more than the worlds nuclear weapons stockpile, plus the energy equivalent of whatever went into the field."

"Miss Sullivan, I believe an error of interpretation has occurred…"

The power plant building, Smallville, 12:51 Armageddon day

The demon fighters were finally in the room with the power plant, and what to do now was the crucial question. Willow was here, trying to remember the shut down procedure, after all she was not part of the design team, she had been on the basic theory end. When the dangers of improper shutdown had been suggested by one of the physics team, it had been investigated, but purely as a theoretical problem. The device had only been run twice, she had not been present either time, so, with the demons gathering for a counter attack, more arriving from somewhere after the highway patrol roadblock had been overrun, none of those present knew how to turn it off without creating an explosion at least ten times larger than the largest thermonuclear device ever tested. The blue disk of the conversion field shimmered prettily, evilly. Chloe ran in from the street, looking around desperately.

"Miss Sullivan, could you find out how to shut it off safely?" Giles asked, with the sound of demons chanting their war cry rising in the background.

"No, Yes, well kinda…" The high school girl stammered. The wall started tearing apart, the demons had decided that going in through the door channelled them into the guns too much and were making a bigger hole. The demon fighters, almost out of ammunition, looked nervously at the crumbling wall. "There is no safe way to shut it down, but one of the unsafe ways is not unsafe for us."

"WELL WHAT IS IT?" The normally polite Englishman had watched his children killed and maimed today, and now the fate of his species was at stake. Xander was standing with the stump of his arm wrapped in bloody bandages, sword in his remaining hand, Willow was too exhausted from her magic use to think properly, Dawn was staring straight ahead into infinity, 'the thousand yard stare' common to combat fatigue cases, and an injured werewolf had accidentally bitten him. He wanted it over.

"If we overload the safeties by running something big into it, at least 70 kilograms is the latest calculation, it self destructs and the energy won't go to Israel, because that is not where it's being used."

"Then were is it being used?" Willow asked in a tired voice. She was physically and emotionally exhausted, from magic use this day.

"Hell." The newspaper editor said, as the demons broke the rear wall and shooting started. They had little time.

"What's 70 kilograms in American?" Xander asked quietly. He was looking at the field; it started several feet above the ground, too high for a heavy object to be rolled into before the bad guys overran their position here.

"154 pounds." Lex answered from the street entrance, he did international business and needed to be comfortable with metrics. With the evacuation over he had come to join the fight here, he had a satchel of full magazines, which he passed around, giving everyone a full mag to insert and a spare with whatever was left from the previous fighting. "And that's the last of the ammo until the convoy comes back from the safe house. Call it half an hour."

"Well, we're screwed." Dawn commented, not really pessimistic in tone, not anything in tone, exhaustion and seeing Buffy's regurgitated remains had taken away her emotions.

"No we're not." Xander was smiling now; clearly he had figured it out, how to save the day. The demons were nearly through the wall, time was short.

"Why not?" Willow asked.

"Because I weigh 220 pounds." The construction manager said, as he ran at the field. He could see the demons break through the wall and run to the machine, he could barely make it. A brief sprint and a flying leap, the blue disk was beautiful as he entered it headfirst.

Hell, the gateway to Earth, the same time

All the demons of Hell were massed here, waiting in their uncounted millions to pour through. The rest was deserted, since the Evil One had made clear what would be done to any who failed him in his ultimate moment. So when Alexander Lavelle Harris's 220 Pounds, plus the 180 of the power device, were converted into over 7,000 megatons, and fed directly to the demonic sorcerers who had opened the gate from this end, there were no survivors. It was an explosion equivalent to 360,00 Hiroshima size atomic bombs, after all.

Armageddon, Israel, same time

The gateway vanished like it had never been there. His Evilness was receiving direct hits from some of the few remaining Alien ships, which had been ordered to make sure he died before beginning colonisation. Given that the aliens had not changed ship design in long enough for some vessels to have been found embedded in rock formations a lack of imagination and creativity in tactical situation should not have been surprising. They had worked their way through the priority list, beginning with Barney, the purple dinosaur, now it was Satan's turn.

Smallville, a few minutes later.

The demons had just stopped. After Xander went into the field, and the machine vanished into its own total conversion energy pipeline, they fought on for a while, and then just stopped. No one yet knew it was the Evil One's submission that had ended it.

Giles had watched the man he thought of as a son hit the blue disk, and then everything went dark as he was coated in a fine, wet, mist. He took off his glasses to clean them, and realised it was a red coating covering the whole room and everyone in it. Enough to account for 40 pounds of Xander, as he was later to see it calculated. Not all of Xander had been converted to energy, the safeties had failed and the device had consumed itself with enough left to be converted into a purée. The world, this entire plane of reality, had been saved. Willow had realised what she was covered in too, and was sitting sobbing on the ground when Faith's jeep came up to her. The dark slayer listened to her beloved's explanation is silence, patting and hugging her wife.

"Willow."

"Yes Faith?" She had finally stopped sobbing hysterically, she was crying but had some level of control back.

"Can we name our next child Xander?"

The place formerly known as Hell, Six months later

With the evil one gone no-one was coming here for punishment, so the place had been just going to waste. The damned had been moved on, or stayed on to help rebuild. The Foreman looked around at his most demanding but rewarding project, from the garden of wildflowers where the gateway to Earth had been. The sulphur smell was finally gone, and a blue sky was slowly appearing. It would all be ready when the survivors of the Scooby Gang left the mortal plane.

Xander Harris was dead, but he was still in the construction business.