Anyone watching would have assumed all three of them were related by blood. A family of three, dark haired and dark eyed, walked out of an early show at the movies laughing and with their arms around each other.
Two sisters and their brother, enjoying time together before the older girl went to work at one of the nicer strip joints just off the main drag, and so the other two could get a decent amount of sleep after a night of hunting the things that go bump in the night.
At least that was the plan.
Things of course went to hell before they got to the car.
Nick Stoaks looked around the crime scene he'd been assigned to, along with Warrick Brown. "Man .... This is going to be a pain."
"Tell me about it," Warrick sighed. "I hate working outside scenes."
Nick raked a hand through his short brown hair. "You want to start the photos while I get samples?"
"Might as well," The taller man said grimly. "The splatter looks like some kind of animal ripped into the DOA."
"Witnesses say that a teenager did it," Nick said, shaking his head. "Who'd teach a kid to do something like this?"
Warrick shrugged. "Must have been a reason. Maybe they thought it was a good one."
"Her driver's licence says her name's Alexandra Laverne MacLeod, age eighteen, from Sunnydale, California," Brass said as Grissom joined him at the observation window. "The other girl is her sister Faith Dana MacLeod, supposedly."
"Supposedly?" Grissom repeated raising an eyebrow. The girls certainly appeared to be related from the id photos on the licences. Dark, tanned, and physically fit.
"Blood types don't match up. At all," the detective grumbled.
"There were three victims, weren't there?" Grissom asked frowning.
Brass smiled slightly. A tight unhappy expression. "That's what we're not sure about. We've got these two in comas, a dead body, and a guy who claims to be the brother of the girls."
"And he's not?"
Brass shook his head. "This is where it gets interesting. The guy's name is Alexander LaVelle Harris, age eighteen, from Sunnydale, California. And his blood type is a match for Alexandra MacLeod's.
"Do we have a contact number for any of them?" Grissom asked as they started to walk away from the intensive care unit.
"Guy named Rupert Giles in Sunnydale. He's on his way now. Harris insisted we call him instead of his parents."
Grissom nodded. "And where's Mr. Harris?"
"He was treated and released to police custody. We've got him in lock up." Brass frowned. "The kid admitted to killing the DOA. Claims he was defending himself and the girls."
"I hear a 'but' coming."
"But Ecklie likes him for this too much, not just for the body, but for shooting up the girls, too."
"And you don't," Grissom concluded.
Brass smirked at him. "I never like anything Ecklie is this sure about. It usually stinks of him wanting his name in the paper."
"Doesn't look much like the kind of guy who'd be so brutal about killing someone, does he?" Catherine Willows commented softly as four uniformed police officers escorted the shackled young man into the interrogation room.
Gil Grissom glanced at the senior member of his team but refrained from comment.
Alexander Harris had an open innocent face, warm friendly brown eyes and slightly wavy dark hair that tumbled into his eyes. It was the kind of face that made you think about the nicest boy in your neighborhood. A bit of a class clown, but over all a good kid. Until you saw the doctor's report from the hospital. They hadn't just noted down the bruises and grazes from a few near misses with bullets, but the scars from old injuries. Then the class clown became a cover up for a battered kid, and Grissom almost suspected that Harris was a run-a-way lying about his age.
Which is what made him look past the openness, and the friendliness, to see the wariness in Harris' brown eyes. A sort of wild animal caution that wasn't entirely at odds with his appearance as a kicked-puppy in that orange jump suit and chains.
"Are the girls okay?" asked Harris as one of the cops tried, and failed, to push him into the chair across from the two Investigators.
The cop pushed harder on the tall young man's shoulder. Harris slid his shoulder out from under the officer's hand and sent him a hard glare.
"Look, I'll sit like a good boy when I know how Lexa and Faith are, alright?" he growled.
"They're fine," Catherine said.
Harris looked at her, his gaze softening as he studied her. "You're a bad liar, ma'am." Still he sat down. "How are they, really? Please?"
"Faith is stable, but they're not sure when she's going to wake up," Grissom said.
"And Lexa?"
"She's still critical," Grissom said, watching Harris closely.
He slumped back into the plastic chair and closed his eyes as if in pain. "Oh god ..."
"We need you to clear up a few things for us, Mr. Harris," Grissom started, leaning forward slightly.
"Xander," Harris interrupted without opening his eyes. "Mr. Harris is my father and I really don't want to be reminded of him. Ever."
Grissom nodded. "Alright, Xander. Could you tell us what happened the night you killed Peter Masters?"
Xander's eyes opened slowly. "Was that his name? The girls and I had just left the movies, that theater on West Palm Road, after the seven o'clock showing of Spawn. Lexa had to be at work at eleven and Faith and I were going to find a club that looked good for the night ... well, one that would let us in." He took a slow breath before continuing. "We were goofing around on the way back to the car. We were still a block away from where it was parked when we got jumped. They shot Lexa first. Pretty much point blank range. If she weren't as flexible as she is then you'd have been telling me she was dead instead of critical. By the time they started shooting at me and Faith, we were already moving. There were only four of them, easy if they hadn't had guns ... Masters, I guess, managed to empty the rest of his clip into Faith. It gets foggy after that."
Both Grissom's eyebrows when up.
"Foggy?" Catherine asked.
Xander shrugged. "Lexa and Faith were both down, I lost it. I guess the other three ran when I went for Masters."
"Do you know why those four men shot the MacLeod sisters first?" Grissom asked.
"Not a clue," Xander said flatly.
Catherine frowned. "Why do I find that hard to believe?"
"Believe what you want," he said after a moment. Because you'd never believe the truth, he added silently.
"What do you think of this guy?" Catherine asked as she and Grissom headed back to the labs.
"I think he was telling the truth, right up until I asked why the girls were shot first," Grissom said frowning.
Catherine nodded. "His story matches the evidence Nick and Warrick found, and the nurses got from the girls' bodies."
"Only up to a point," Grissom corrected. "He didn't mention the needle marks."
"Maybe he doesn't want them in trouble for doing drugs?" she suggested with a frown. It was possible ... but ...
"It's hard to shoot up from behind," Grissom pointed out. "And all the marks were on their backs."
"And the drugs in their systems weren't for recreational use," Greg added as he fell into step with them as they passed his particular territory in the crime labs. "Going under the assumption that you're talking about the MacLeod, Harris, Masters thing."
"So what was it?" Catherine asked as Greg handed them each a copy of the results on the MacLeods' blood work.
"A combination of muscle relaxants and sedatives," Greg explained. "In lethal doses."
"But the girls aren't dead," Grissom pointed out.
Greg nodded. "That's the part I don't get, but it may be why they're in comas."
"Has anyone heard from this Giles guy yet?" Catherine asked. "He was called two days ago."
Greg nodded again. "Brass is talking to him now."
With that the hyper young scientist returned to his lab and his portable CD player.
Giles ignored the gruff detective as he stood outside Faith's hospital room, simply watching her breath. Between Buffy, Willow, Oz, Cordelia and surprisingly Wesley, any activity on the Hellmouth was well in hand. Which left Giles free to watch over his three wayward children.
"I want a police guard on both their rooms," Giles said, abruptly cutting off Brass' attempts to question him. "Preferably I want them back in the same room. They tend to panic and react violently when they can't find each other and one of them is hurt."
"We have a suspect in custody," Brass told him with a scowl.
"You have Xander Harris," the British former-librarian corrected. "The only thing he is guilty of is losing his temper rather spectacularly."
"A man is dead because of that rather spectacular loss of temper," Brass grumbled.
Had Faith been conscious she might, in another strange and twisted reality, have warned Detective Brass that Ripper was about to put in an appearance. As it was the Dark Slayer missed the show. She'd be so disappointed.
Brass found himself slammed face first into the observation window with Giles' hand clamped painfully on the back of his neck. "That girl has lived through several different kinds of hell, Detective. It is my job to make certain that she continues to not only survive but to thrive. You will have guards placed on Faith and Lexa so that a second attempt on their lives cannot be made."
"Harris is who we've got for this," Brass managed.
"Xander could no more harm these girls than he would slit his own throat," Giles snarled. "He would die before hurting anyone he cares for. But these two ... anyone who would harm them takes their life into their own hands. Masters did that ... And he's lucky Xander got to him before I did. I'd have made it hurt before I killed him."
"Right," Brass grunted. "Anything else?"
Giles released the other man. "Yes. I want Xander to be allowed to visit them. In Lexa's case that is likely to make all the difference."
"What do you mean?" growled Brass as he straightened his coat and tie.
"They're twins," Giles said coolly. "While they weren't raised together, they have become very close, to the point of being ferociously protective of each other and of Faith."
Brass frowned again as they walked toward the intensive care unit. What the Brit was had been saying made sense to him. Especially after the reports he'd gotten from Grissom and his team. The Harris kid had without a doubt killed Masters, he couldn't have had anything to do with the girls being shot. "How does Faith enter into this? And why weren't Xander and Lexa raised together?"
"Lexa and Faith are adopted sisters," Giles explained, the lie rolling easily off his tongue. "I was named their guardian when their parents died. Xander was raised by a brutally abusive family. Once he turned eighteen he moved in with us. I'm unsure of the details of how exactly the twins were separated."
"How'd you become their guardian?" Brass pressed.
Giles shot a glare at the shorter man. "Their mother, Lynda, was a very dear friend of mine. As she had no other family after her husband past on, and his family was ... unsuitable for dealing with the girls."
"Were you aware that the older girl was supporting all three of them as a stripper?"
"I am now," sighed the former librarian. He paused outside the intensive care unit and removed his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "I hardly find it surprising. Both girls have a distressing habit of trading on their looks. They are also terribly independent. I would have sent them however much money they wanted."
Brass nodded, still frowning. "And you let them take an under-aged girl to Vegas ... why?"
"I didn't know they were coming to Las Vegas, detective," Giles snapped. "Xander, Lexa and Faith are more than capable of taking care of themselves and each other."
"Did they clear a plan with you at all?"
"It was to drive as far from Sunnydale as possible before returning for Faith's senior year of high school," Giles said flatly. His eyes locked on Lexa. After a moment he took a shuddering breath and rested his and on her cheek. "Dear god ... my poor girl."
Hard hazel eyes held Brass in place. "Find the men who did this, detective. Find them, before I do."
Brass could only nod. "We'll do what we can."
Xander looked up when the redhead from the day before came back into the interrogation room with a man he guessed to be a detective. "Hi, ma'am. Got more questions?"
The detective scowled. "Shouldn't you have a lawyer, kid?"
"Don't need one, yet." Xander said with a shrug. "I was just defending myself and the girls."
"You killed a man," the detective pointed out.
"A man that emptied half a clip of ammo into Faith's body," Xander snarled. "A man that had been shooting at all three of us. A man that was trying to kill my girls."
"Take it easy, Xander," Catherine advised. "Brass didn't mean anything by it."
Xander slumped back in his chair and closed his eyes. "Sure he didn't, ma'am."
Catherine shot Brass a warning look. "We got in contact with Mr. Giles."
"G-man to the rescue. He's with the girls, right?"
"He's with them now," Catherine assured the young man.
Xander nodded. "Good, that's good."
"You don't seem worried for a guy going up for murder," Brass grumbled.
"I'm noting," Xander said calmly. "As long as the girls are alright, I don't matter."
Catherine's eyebrows went up. "Do you think they'd agree with that?"
"Actually, they'd yell at me if they heard me say that," Xander admitted sheepishly. "It's still true."
"Any idea why Mr. Giles demanded police protection for your sisters?" Brass asked slowly.
Xander frowned. "Whoever ordered Faith and Lexa killed will try again. Shit. He'll need the rest of the pack out here ..."
"Excuse me? Pack?" Catherine leaned forward. "What do you mean?"
"I mean call a Scooby meeting, Avengers assemble, time to close ranks, Go-go Power Rangers," Xander babbled. "You know, call the calvary."
"But you said 'pack', like animals," Catherine persisted.
"Figure of speech," Xander said quickly.
"You know what I think?" Brass started.
"No, but you're probably going to tell me," Xander muttered.
Brass glared at him before continuing. "I think you know why you and the MacLeod girls got shot. I think you know why the attack was focused on the girls. I think you know why the girls were drugged before the fight started. What I don't get is why you won't let us help you."
"Turn off the tape recorder," Xander drawled out. "And I might tell you."
"There's no tape recorder," Brass grunted.
Xander's head tilted as a slow smirk cut across his lips. "Did you know your pupils react to your emotions? Lying may not be an emotion but the fear of being caught in the lie is."
Brass glared.
"Turn off the tape recorder," Xander said quietly. "Or I'll stop talking."
Catherine waved at the two way mirror.
After a moment Xander nodded. "Alright, here's the deal. This world is older than you know ... and it didn't start out as some garden of paradise. It was a hell, and a home to demons. Then it changed. We cam. The humans. And we drove them back. But there are remnants of that ancient age. Certain magics, some minor demons, werewolves ... and the Vampires. Real ones, not those loony-toons who go around drinking each other's blood in clubs."
"This is crazy," Brass growled.
Xander's eyes narrowed. "Shut up. You wanted to know what's going on, and I'm trying to tell you. All of what I said is true. But here's where it gets good. With vampires and other monsters still out there, humanity needed a way to keep fighting back, to keep them in the darkness and shadows. They called her the Slayer. One girl in all the world with the strength, speed, and skill to fight the vampires and stop the spread of their evil."
"And they believed Lexa is this 'Slayer'?" asked Catherine. "That would explain why she was shot first."
"No ... Lexa is something else," Xander said with a faint smile. "Faith's the Slayer. And she's damned good at it."
"So what's this something else Lexa is?" Brass demanded.
"Lexa is the Alpha, the Queen," Xander said softly. "We are the Hyenas."
Brass cursed when the boy's eyes glowed yellow-green.
"I did not see that," Brass said bluntly as Xander was once again taken to a holding cell. "It didn't happen, I didn't see it."
Catherine looked at him like he was out of his mind. "Jim, Xander's eyes just glowed. They went from brown to yellowish-green. How can you say you didn't see it?"
"Because I can't put it in the report," Brass growled. He scrubbed his hands over his face then through his short clipped hair before he could meet Catherine's too observant green eyes. "You know Ecklie is looking for a conviction pinning all of this on the kid. He's got some uniforms jumping through hoops to prove it was a drug deal gone bad or something."
"But Xander's clean," Catherine protested. She'd only spoken to the boy twice, and even after ... or maybe especially after seeing that he wasn't entirely human, she felt the urge to protect him. "The most I've been able to find on him is that he has an unpaid parking ticket and he washes dishes at the club Lexa strips at. Their neighbors like the girls well enough, but they think Xander hung the moon. Especially the kids. They don't even have beer in their fridge."
Nick nodded from Brass' other side. "She's got a point. Ecklie can't pin anything on Harris other than aggravated manslaughter. Can't even get him for assault with a deadly weapon cause he wasn't carrying any."
"Granted the kid probably counts as a deadly weapon," Warrick pointed out. "He did rip that guy to pieces with his bare hands."
Nick nodded again with a deep frown. "Anyone else getting the feeling that the guys who attacked Harris and the MacLeods thought the girls would give them more trouble than Harris?"
"That's exactly the feeling I'm getting," Catherine muttered. "Excuse me, fellas. I'm going to grab Greg and go talk to Mr. Giles. He's still at the hospital right?"
"Yeah," Brass grunted. "Watch yourself with him. He's not a safe man to tick off."
The former stripper blinked at him for a moment. "What did you say to him?"
"Just pointed out that we had Harris in custody," the older man said with a shrug. "But you might want to take one of the other guys, maybe a few uniforms, if you're going to talk to him."
Catherine have him a hard look before snorting her disbelief and storming down the hallway.
Warrick shook his head. "Anyone else think she's kind of annoyed?"
"Can it and get back to work you two," Brass growled with a smirk. "There are other crimes going on in this city."
Catherine paused when Greg Sanders froze at the observation window, staring at the two dark haired girls. "Greg?"
"Those are A and F MacLeod?" the young science wiz managed to ask around the lump in this throat.
"Yeah ... Greg, what's wrong?" Catherine asked as all her mothering instincts came back on line.
Greg swallowed hard. "'Sexy' Lexie and 'Gotta Have' Faith are .... Oh, man. We've got to get the guys who ..."
"You know them?"
"There's this club ... you have to be between sixteen and twenty five to get in," Greg explained tightly. "The girls and ... Oh, god. Harris has got to be 'Boytoy'."
Catherine yanked Greg away from the window and made him meet her eyes. "Greg, what's going on with you?"
He raked his hands through his already wild hair. "Cath, these guys saved my life. You wouldn't believe me if I told you how or why or ..."
"Vampires?" she guessed. "Real ones?"
Greg blinked at her. "How did ... One. They seemed to know her ... I just, she was acting like someone had drugged her drink you know? Talking about the stars singing to her and the moon screaming. So I took her out of the club to take her to the hospital ... She yanked me into an alley. God ..." Greg blinked again and sagged back against the wall. "Her face changed ... Then they showed up. Faith was calling the other two Sexy Lexie and Boytoy. Harris called her Gotta Have Faith. They called the Vampire Dru. She called them Wicked Mummy, Dark Kitten, and Naughty Slayer. They ... There was a fight. Three on one, but ... God. She got away."
The unofficial den mother for the night shift in CSI gave their youngest member a quick hug. "We'll find out who's behind this, Greg. And Harris will probably get off with self defense, maybe temporary insanity. They did shoot his sisters, right?"
"Right." Greg said slowly. "Let's go talk to Mr. Giles ... guess he's the one that was in there with the girls, huh?"
"I was," Giles said quietly from behind them.
Greg yelped and spun around. "Man, don't do that!"
"Sorry," said the Brit with a slight smile. "I take it, from what I over heard, that you know my charges?"
"We met a few times," Greg admitted. "They saved me from a vampire."
Giles nodded. "Yes, they tend to do that. How may I help you?"
"I'm Catherine Willows, this is Greg Sanders," Catherine said. "We're with the crime lab."
"I see, but that doesn't tell me how I can help you," Giles pointed out.
"You could tell me why someone would want the Slayer, her sister and her brother dead," Catherine said bluntly.
That earned a dark scowl from the older man. "What do you know about the Slayer?"
"Just what Xander told us," Catherine admitted as Greg drifted back over to the observation window to watch the two dark haired girls sleep. Catherine glanced toward the door. "I thought you asked for a police guard for the girls?"
"And I got rude incompetent imbeciles," muttered Giles. "I believe there are some things Xander wouldn't have thought to tell you about the Slayers, and those who's duty it is to guide, train and provide information to the Slayers."
"Nope, didn't hear anything about that," she said quietly.
Giles shook his head. "We're called Watchers. I was, and my associate Wesley Windham-Pryce is, a Field Watcher. That means we have a Slayer under our care. I left Wesley in Sunnydale to aid the elder Slayer and the other members of our team while I came here to see to Xander and the girls."
"Want to tell me where this is going?"
"The Council of Watchers is the organization that trains us in how to train the Slayer should we be so lucky as to have one given to our care," Giles continued as if uninterrupted. "Slayers have a life expectancy of two years or less. Buffy has been a Slayer for four years now ... Partially because of her own strengths, but mostly because she has behind her a strong support system that includes Xander. Which is what lead to a second Slayer being Called."
Catherine nodded slowly. "So how is a Slayer called?"
"Her predecessor dies," Giles informed her flatly.
"But Xander told us that Faith was the Slayer," Catherine said as a frown pulled at her lips.
Giles nodded. "She is. Buffy was killed three years ago. Xander revived her with CPR. But she was dead long enough for the next Slayer to be Called."
"That was Faith?"
"No," he said shaking his head slightly. "That was Kendra. Faith was called when Kendra was killed."
"None of this is telling me who would want a Slayer and her family killed," Catherine pointed out firmly.
"Walk with me, Miss Willows," Giles sighed. It was almost like dealing with an older version of Willow. "This is going to be rather complicated ...
"The Council has had control over the Slayer since before recorded history. There are those who wish to keep control over the Slayer at all costs. They cannot control Buffy, and having her ... 'removed' is a risk they are unwilling to take." He paused to remove his glasses and pinch the bridge of his nose. "While they have only nominal control over Faith, through Wesley being the official Watcher for both girls, she does have a level of independence from them."
They walked in silence for a moment before Giles continued. "You see, most Slayers have no family, no friends, no support outside of their Watcher. Kendra was a Slayer like that. She had only her Watcher and obeyed his orders. Buffy did not have a Watcher until she was Called. She lives with her Mother, she has friends, goes to school. Buffy has as much of a normal life as possible." He didn't even pause before moving into a blend of lies and truth. "Faith and Lexa's mother was also a Watcher, she undertook the responsibility of training Faith once it was determined that she had the potential to be a Slayer. Lynda also trained Lexa as if she were to become a Slayer as well, while also teaching her the skills she would need as a Watcher. Specifically as Faith's Watcher. Together the girls are a remarkable team.
"When the girls arrived in Sunnydale Lynda was dead, the Council had presumed the girls were as well. They sent the girls a new Watcher once I informed them otherwise. She was a Watcher that had no intention of allowed Lexa to continue aiding her younger sister. Miss Price did everything she could to cut Faith off from Lexa and the friends they had made. As it turned out Miss Price was a renegade from the Council and tried to kill all of us to obtain an artifact. It was after that Wesley arrived. He was arrogant, officious, and he too tried to cut Faith off from the others ... Lexa threatened to kill him and send him back to the Council in several boxes. So he ceased his efforts.
"But the Council has not lost it's desire to control at least one of the Slayers. When Buffy dies again there will not be another Slayer Called. The Line runs through Faith now."
"So to get a Slayer they can control this Council wants to kill Faith," Catherine concluded.
Giles nodded. "Yes, I believe so. As they concentrated their attempt on the girls rather than on Xander leads me to believe that they ordered both MacLeod girls killed."
"Why both?"
"Because if Lexa survived Faith's death she would not cease hunting down those responsible until she either is killed herself, or has killed all of them. Naturally, Xander would help her, even continue her mission until he either succeeded where she failed or until he was dead as well."
Catherine stopped walking. "It's because Lexa's this Hyena Queen, isn't it?"
"That's one of the reasons she wouldn't stop, yes. Another is because Faith is her family," Giles said slowly. "How did you know about that?"
"Xander told us. Then his eyes glowed. Care to explain that?"
"Not really," Giles stammered.
"Hey!" they heard Greg shout from down the hall. "Hey, you're not supposed to go in there!"
Without a word Giles turned around and headed back toward the room shared by the unconscious girls.
"Call security!" Greg yelled to a nurse as he continued to block the door of the girls' room with his body.
Giles reached them in time to keep the larger man from simply barreling through the slender young man. "Angel? What the devil are you doing here?"
"Doyle had a vision about the girls being in trouble," the souled Vampire started only to break off when Giles slammed him into the wall.
"This Doyle person is a bit late," Giles snapped. His eyes narrowed behind his glasses. "Of course, I could use someone competent to guard the girls while they recover. I suppose you'll have to do. At least until Oz and Willow arrive."
"Nice to see you have a little faith in me," Angel grumbled.
"Quite," Giles snarled. "Very little in fact."
Angel spoke very quietly. "That wasn't me."
"I don't bloody well care. If anything happens to Lexa and Faith while you're on watch I will stake you out in the desert sun then dance in your ashes," Giles informed him calmly.
Catherine waved off the hospital security guards after showing them her identification as a CSI. "One of you had better start telling me what's going on here."
Angel frowned. "And you are ..."
"Trying to figure out the truth," Catherine snapped.
"Miss Willows is with the police crime lab. She and Mr. Sanders are investigating the attempted murder of the girls, and Xander's killing of Peter Masters," Giles said flatly.
"*Xander* killed someone?" Angel blurted.
"Shut up, Angel," Giles growled.
Greg eyed Angel and Giles as he backed into the girls' room. "Hey, Catherine, it's about the end of my shift anyway. I think I'll stay here and keep Lexie and Faith company."
"Right," she said slowly. "I'll tell Grissom where you are. Mr. Giles, why don't you come down to the station with me and you can visit Xander."
"... Very well," Giles said after glancing at the young man who seemed so worried about Lexa and Faith. "I will be back, and you had better still be here, Angel."
"I'm not going anywhere," the vampire insisted.
Greg pulled a crucifix out of the collar of his shirt as he settled in the chair between the two dark haired girls. As Giles and Catherine left, he studied Angel for a moment before asking: "So, how long have you been undead?"
"How did you ..."
"Mr. Giles said he'd dance in your ashes, that's kind of a give away," Greg said as he continued to eye Angel suspiciously. "What I don't get is why you want to protect Lexa and Faith when they hunt you guys."
"I'm not exactly a normal Vampire," Angel pseudo-explained.
Greg crossed his arms and scowled at him. "Oh, do tell."
Angel sighed and started to tell the young man about how he got his soul, the guilt, and loving Buffy only to have to leave her for her own good.
"What a load of crap," Greg announced at the conclusion.
"Excuse me?"
"Look, Tall, dark and brooding, I'm a professional scientific investigator," Greg said with a smirk. "I recognize shit when I smell it. You didn't leave for this Buffy girl's own good. You made a choice for her, for both of you, without talking about it."
"We talked about it," Angel protested, sounding weak to his own ears.
Greg rolled his eyes. "Funny, it sounds more like you told her how things were going to be then melodramatically walked away into the fog."
"It was smoke."
"Whatever."
Angel frowned at the young mortal who seemed only a little older than the girls unconscious on the beds. "Have you forgotten that I'm a vampire and could kill you pretty easily?"
"Nope," Greg said as he pointed to the cross around his neck then held up a stake. "I know exactly what you are, and what you say you are. But for a dead guy, you whine like a teenager."
"Hey, how's my favorite unemployed librarian, Giles?" Xander greeted his sort of substitute father.
Giles frowned at him. "Deeply disturbed that you seem to have told police officers the truth about the night and the girls. Xander, are you sure that was a good idea?"
"Not really," he said with a slight shrug. "I'm still in chains, yet not in a padded cell with a coat that ties in the back, so it's sort of a toss up."
"You killed a man," Giles said softly. "They want to put you on trial for murder."
"It was self-defense and defense of the girls," Xander said, shrugging again. "And as long as they're free and getting better it was worth it."
"You're acting as if you want to be a martyr," Giles growled, a bit of Ripper coming through.
Xander shook his head. "I don't. I really don't. Besides, if I'm out of the picture Lexa will be to busy taking care of things she won't have time to self-destruct."
Giles stared at him blankly for several seconds. "Xander, you have on occasion said some extremely idiotic things. But I believe that is the stupidest thing to ever pass your lips. Once the girls recover they will start planing a jail break. If Willow hasn't managed it first." He shook his head. "I believe that you will be able to argue both self-defense and temporary insanity. I would prefer it if you only argued self-defense ... Do you have a lawyer yet?"
"No, I didn't think I needed one. I did kill Masters after all," the younger man said quietly.
"I'll find you one," Giles promised. "Please, don't speak to the police again until I have one here."
Xander nodded. "Alright. Who's with the girls?"
"Angel arrived shortly before I came to see you."
Xander's eyes flashed yellow-green. "If he hurts them ..."
"He won't. A young man from the crime lab is also with them. He mentioned that you three saved him from a vampire?"
Xander blinked as he thought back. "A little shorter than me? Artfully disarranged hair that's bleached at the ends?"
"Yes, he was introduced as Greg Sanders," Giles said.
"Yeah, Drucilla was in town and tried to eat him," Xander explained with a nod. "He thought someone had drugged her. Said he was taking her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped or something. He's a good guy."
"I'm sure. Now, tell me everything that happened," said the older man as he leaned forward with a dark glint in his eyes.
Xander grinned, all teeth and no humor. "Sure thing, Ripper."
Greg brushed a lock of hair out of Faith's face, ignoring the vampire with a soul. The girl's eyes flickered under closed lids.
"Are you dreaming, Faith?" he whispered. "If you are I hope it's a good dream, but not so good that you won't want to wake up. Your Boytoy needs you and Lexie."
The Dark Slayer seemed to settle down at the sound of his voice. Angel frowned slightly and tuned his attention to Lexa. Pale, bruised, her dark hair lank against the pillow, she looked very little like the girl he would watch dance with her friends at the Bronze. She looked even less like the demon hunter that had quickly become feared in Sunnydale and LA.
Angel reached out to touch her hand, but stopped. She didn't want him to touch her. She never wanted him to touch her.
He reminded her too much of the Angel from her dimension, and Angelus.
But it looked like Lexa was dreaming, too.
"Hey, me," said her own voice from the shadows.
Faith turned around, falling easily into a fighting stance. "Come out where I can see you!"
"Oh, grrr, rough and tough," said the other girl as she walked out into the dim light.
It was like looking in a mirror. Then Faith started noting little differences. The other Faith's hair was shorter, she was thinner, paler, and there were dark circles under her eyes.
"Who are you?"
The other Faith smirked. "I'm you. Only from where Sexy Lexie comes from."
"And you're in my dream ... why?" Faith demanded.
"It's our dream and I'm just the messenger," the other Faith said holding up her hands as if in surrender.
Faith's eyes narrowed and she stayed tensed for a fight. "So what's the message?"
"The count down's started and it's all down hill from here."
Before she could ask another question, demand another answer, one in English maybe, Faith woke up.
"You need to wake up, soon, Lexa," Ripper said softly as he rubbed her back lightly.
She looked up at him. "Don't wanna. Hurts out there."
His fingers stroked through her hair, making her purr softly. "But, still ... You're needed."
"No, I'm not."
"So Xander and Faith hunting you down meant nothing?"
Lexa climbed off the bed. "Of course it means something! They're my Pack!"
"But?" Ripper drawled out.
"But our Pack is never going to grow into a real Clan," Lexa hissed. "Faith's too young to breed and Xander and I ..."
"Are the same person," Ripper finished when she let the words die.
Lexa sighed and turned back to face him. "You know, for a guy in a dream you're really argumentative, you know that?"
"I never said you were dreaming, Lexa," he chided as he rose from the bed and wrapped his arms around her.
"Then why should I have to leave?" Lexa yelled, turning and shoving him away. "God damn it, Ripper, what are you doing here?"
Ripper smirked. *Her* Ripper smirked. "Cos Xander and Faith need you. As much as you need them, pet." He reached out and brushed his fingers across her stomach. "And the bit's gonna need you."
"I'm not pregnant," she said flatly.
"Not for lack of trying on our part."
She frowned up at him. "Can I even get pregnant here? This isn't real."
Ripper smiled, a softer look than he'd given anyone else in a long time. "It's as real as you want it to be. As real as what happened between us back in our world."
"Damn you, Ripper ..." Lexa sighed. "I could have loved you. You know that right?"
"Yeah, luv. But you still have to wake up, Faith's waiting for you."
Xander's eyes flared yellow green as he jerked in his chair. He blinked and shook his head hard. His eyes snapped back to Giles, still glowing bright yellow-green. "Get back to the girls, now. They're awake!"
Giles only nodded sharply before he ran from the room, shoving aside a man as he went.
Ecklie glared after the man. "Who the hell was that?"
Grissom shot him a sidelong glance. "That was Mr. Rupert Giles. I wonder why he's in such a hurry?"
"The girls woke up. He's gone to see them," Xander said, leaning against the door jam.
"And he knows this how?" Grissom asked as he gestured for Xander to sit back down.
The young man grinned. "Lexa and I are twins. I knew when she woke up."
"This would have been easier if they hadn't woken back up," muttered an accented voice.
"The boy is still in jail, all we have to worry about is Giles and a skinny labrat."
A third voice made a disgusted sound. "Don't know much about Giles do you? Oh, and Angelus is here now as well."
"None of this would have been a problem if we'd been properly informed about the boy's abilities," the first accented voice continued to complain.
The second voice sighed. "The boy's on the kill list now. Pity, he had potential."
"Especially after what he did to Pete."