A Little FaithTeaser

Story by Zahir al DaoudWritten by Zahir al Daoud (additional writing by Gelfling 21, Robert Kidman

and CN Winters)Produced and Directed by CN Winters and Susan Carr

Edited by DragonWriter17Sounds by CSR

Art Direction by Robert KidmanArtists – Robert Kidman, CN Winters, Zahir al Daoud, Isis, Mattxxx and

Humaira

Fade In:Int.Watchers Council – Press Room – Day

"…the Council's website," said Robin, reading from a text as he stood at the podium. Behind him was a simple blue curtain. Before him, on the podium itself, was the elaborate arms of the Watchers Council. "I cannot make this point forcefully enough," he continued, "that many of the species that are generically known as demons are in fact harmless. Most of them have radically non-human appearances, but over half of them are no more a threat to their neighbors than the average immigrant or minority. If you have any questions at all, please either contact the Council or visit the Council's website." He paused, looking out over the room. It was filled to capacity, including at least ten camera crews.

"Questions. Yes, you." He pointed.

"Is the Council specifically denying the beliefs of several major religions? That demons are in fact by definition evil?"

Every reporter in the room, several dozen at least, watched and listened.

He cleared his throat. "No, we are taking no sides as per anyone's religion. Our position is that the word 'demon' has more than one meaning and has been used to describe some species somewhat loosely. Some of these

species are very dangerous indeed. Others are only dangerous under certain circumstances. Still others are no more dangerous than anyone in this room."

The next reporter to be pointed at rose. "Is it true that some of the Council's highest ranking members are, as some public figures have suggested, genuine Satanists?"

"Absolutely not. Satanism is the deliberate worship of evil. While not as rare as any of us would like, it is far from common –"

Cut To:Int.Mr. Felix's Office – Later

"No member of the Council," the figure of Robin Wood on the monitor was saying, "is in any sense a Satanist. Not one."

A middle-aged man watched the screen. He did not even react as a woman knocked then entered his office, file folder in hand.

"Mr. Felix? You asked for…"

She stopped as he put up one finger, eyes still on the monitor.

"…official Watchers' position on the legal status of these demon species you speak of? Vampires, for example. Are these people? If not, why not? If yes, aren't you in fact committing mass murder?" The reporter paused, waiting for an answer.

"We managed to plant that question," Mr. Felix murmured.

"Legal questions of this sort are best handled by legislatures and the courts," said Robin. "We act only in terms of self-defense or defending others from death or severe bodily harm, which makes our actions legal under any circumstances. As for vampires, legally the persons that these beings once were are already deceased in the eyes of the law. We are not killing individuals, but rather un-animating their corpses to prevent them from harming the living."

Felix reached to click something with his mouse. The image on the monitor froze. "Nice evasion, that," he said, nodding at the screen. "Sounds good, but

doesn't address the real question at all." He sighed and looked at the woman with the file. "What do you have for me?"

"A report from New York. It seems that mundane criminal organizations have begun a disturbing pattern – hiring demonic muscle."

He nodded, taking the folder from her hand. "Quite a few of the – what was it the government called them? Hostile some-things?"

"H.S.T.s, sir. Hostile Sub-Terrestrials."

"Ah. Well, they'd probably make really good muscle. Or hit men. And unfortunately, that is likely to give some of them ideas." His eyes gazed over the pages of the report. "I'm sure law enforcement will be anything but pleased once some Mafia Godfathers begin to sport fangs."

"I imagine not, sir."

Cut To:Int.New York – Abandoned Store – Night

The wallpaper, what remained of it, broke up the dull gray of the concrete walls with splashes of almost-red. Dust obscured the effect, but it remained just noticeable to the naked eye. Four bare light bulbs illuminated the room, making not only the walls but also the boarded-up windows perfectly visible.

Visible also were four hulking figures with sloped foreheads and feral, yellow eyes. All wore clothes halfway between rags and gang colors. The Leader, a slim black man wearing a cap, flashed his fangs and grinned at a teenaged girl who was tied to a chair in the far end of the store. Not only was she breathing hard, but sweat poured off her face like a fountain.

"Don't you go worrying, girl," the Leader crooned. "Mommy and Daddy are smart, and they want you back. They'll cough up the dollars to get you back."

"Are…" she began, her voice catching. She tried again. "Are…are you going to give me back?"

The largest of the vampires chortled. "Yeah, sure," he said. "Maybe a little different, if you know what I mean!"

Two of the other vampires laughed, while the girl paled. But the Leader raised his hand. "Hell, no!" he told his minions. "Blood we can get anytime!

Money, real money, is what we get for giving the girl back without a scratch. That way, our next customers know to do the same."

"But boss," the largest vampire began.

"I said No! Plenty of juicebags out there! Juicebags that don't have rich mommies and daddies!"

One of the other vampires, a scrawny one wearing a baseball cap backwards, opened his mouth to protest then stopped. All four undead simply cocked their heads, as if hearing something.

"What the –?" began the largest of them. He never got a chance to finish.

An automobile crashed through the boarded-up window going at least sixty miles per hour. Wood and glass and pieces of plaster flew in every direction as the machine came to a sputtering halt, the front end obviously ruined now. Fender, headlights, one of the two front wheels – all damaged beyond easy repair and obviously so. But before even the echo of the crash began to fade, a female form jumped out of the driver's seat and reached the fourth vampire.

She was slender and dark. She also moved nearly too fast for words. In each hand oriental-style sais rose up, her arms forming an "X" before crossing them in one swift move. The blades sliced through the air. More importantly, they sliced through the vampire's neck.

He became dust, barely able to register the attack.

Next, she spun around and met the baseball bat wielded by the largest of the three remaining, her face hidden in the shadows. He swung it with inhuman strength, easily enough to break or even shatter bone. She caught the baseball bat with both her blades and pushed back, causing him to stumble.

She instantly did a spinning kick, hitting him square in the chest.

He was propelled back – directly into a broken beam from where the car had plowed through the storefront. It wasn't a pretty weapon, nothing more than a large splintered piece of rotten wood. But when it entered the vampire's heart, it was fatal. Another man-shaped cloud of dust dissipated.

The next vampire to attack took out a pair of bowie knives from either side of his belt. Grinning, he snarled as he approached her. Her blades and his began to dance – the sound of metal hitting metal echoing in the small space. Actual sparks flew as each increased the power of their blows. This vampire continued grinning during the fight.

"You'd think," he said amid cuts and parries and feints, "a Slayer'd know better than to take one of us on with metal!" He almost laughed as he said it.

Maybe that bravura was what gave her the chance. Certainly, right after he'd mocked her with those words, she pierced his defenses and drove both her blades right into his heart, then out again.

His grin faded. He looked puzzled.

She grinned and held up her blades. "Blessed," was all she said.

"Oh." He went poof without more ado.

The young woman turned now in the direction of the tied-up girl. Said girl was missing.

"Over here, Slayer," said the Leader of the vampires. He was at the exit in the back of the store. The exit sign was dark, but still readable. The girl was in his arms, her throat exposed as he grabbed her hair and shoulder. "Good play," said the Leader. "But hey, minions. That's what they're for, right? You gotta get through them first, giving me the chance to grab the hostage."

"Quit monologue-ing," the young woman replied. She seemed to relax, just watching the vampire and hostage inch towards the door.

"Just don't do anything stupid and –" he began.

He never finished his sentence. Lightning fast, the young woman threw her dagger with pinpoint accuracy. It impaled him directly between the eyes – eyes that had just enough time to cross before they turned to dust along with the rest of him.

The girl waited a few moments as the fact of her total rescue made its way to her entire brain. Eyes huge, she tried to look at her rescuer through the shadows. She then looked around at the room, empty now save for them. Then she shuddered.

"Ew! His…whatever it is…it's ALL OVER ME!" She wiped the dust from her clothes as if she'd been infected with cooties.

"Just for the record," said the rescuer, "you are Florence Wiggins, right? Otherwise, I'm gonna have to go through all this again."

Florence nodded.

Cut To:Int.New York – Wiggins' Home – Foyer – Later

The second the former hostage entered the foyer of her father's brownstone mansion, she gave a call. "Daddeeeee!"

A middle-aged man in a gray suit appeared from the other end of the main hallway. "Princess?"

The two ran to each other, and the father kneeled as they exchanged a huge hug. Florence's rescuer stepped inside and watched the scene. She just leaned against the wall and waited. She seemed to take in every single detail of the father-daughter embrace, although her face couldn't be seen.

"It was horrible, Daddy! They were all so low, so common! And they were betting on who would get to bite me and drain me of all my blood! I think they wanted to make me a vampire too! And they were dirty!"

"Ahem."

Father and daughter looked back to the young woman reclining against the wall.

"I'm really glad for the family reunion and everything," she said. "Really. But, there's the little matter of my fee?"

Mr. Wiggins gave a relieved chuckle. "I'd say you've earned every nickel, Miss Lehane." He looked to his daughter. "Princess? Do you want anything? Anything at all?"

She nodded. "A shower. A long, long, really long hot shower."

"Well, you go ahead. Daddy's got some business to attend to."

The girl smiled, kissed her father on the cheek, then headed to the main staircase. She stopped long enough to give a long gaze at the young woman

who rescued her. "You're not…gay, are you?" she asked suddenly. "I saw on the news that a lot of slayers are gay. You're not going to want to take me to dinner or something?"

"Straight as an arrow," came the reply.

"Oh." She sounded just a little disappointed. "Well, good." Then she went upstairs.

"This way, Miss Lehane," the father gestured to a door. "You did say a personal check would be okay?"

"Five by five."

Cut To:Int.New York – Wiggins' Home – Study – Seconds Later

Mr. Wiggins led the way, making it straight to his desk. The checkbook was already out, and he began to write in it using the desk's fountain pen.

"You know," he said to the young woman who stood in the doorway, face unseen. "I would have paid any amount to save my little girl."

"I'm not greedy," was her answer. "Just gotta live is all."

"Well, you'd've been a bargain at a hundred times this price." He signed the check with a flourish. "And I'll be sure to let everyone I know of that fact."

She took the check and folded it, slipping it into her pocket. "Thanks."

A gentle knock on the door interrupted anything either one of them would have said next. The door opened, and a black gentleman with a white beard, wearing a tuxedo, stepped inside the office from a side entrance. "Mr. Wiggins, sir?"

"Yes?"

"Two individuals are here, claiming to be representatives of the Watchers Council."

"Really?" The father smiled. "Show them in!"

"Very good sir," the butler stepped out.

"I'll tell you, Miss Lehane," the father said, "I'm looking forward to telling your Council just what a bang-up job you did here in Staten Island. First rate! Absolutely prime grade A plus work!"

"Yeah," she sighed. "About that…" Her voice faded off.

"Something the matter?"

"Kinda." She paused. "The fact is, I'm not exactly with the Council."

"Not exactly?"

"More like – not at all, not really."

He took this in for a moment. "So you're more a freelance slayer now, is that right?"

"That's a good explanation."

"Well," he said after a moment, "I'm still going to sing your praises. Do them good to have some old-fashioned competition!"

The butler reappeared at that moment. He had the faintest of puzzled looks on his face, but when he spoke, it was as smooth and as calm as his profession excelled in.

"From the Watchers Council, sir. Mr. Jeff Lindquist and Miss Faith…" He paused ever so slightly. "…Lehane."

Jeff and Faith entered the room. The latter, the second she crossed the threshold, did a take.

"What the hell?" Faith said.

Jeff looked at Faith and at the other young woman in the room. Mr. Wiggins did likewise. Both of course were slender, with dark hair. They were approximately the same height and build as well.

"You know each other, I take it?" Wiggins said finally.

"That is Faith," said the first young woman.

"And," said Jeff politely, "you are?"

"That," said Faith, "is Hope. My sister."

For a moment, no one said anything else. Then, both Jeff and Wiggins said, "Oh" quietly and simultaneously.

Fade Out

End of Teaser

Act One

Starring:Elijah Wood as Jeff Lindquist, Lacey Chambert as Skye, Gale Harold as Jim

Pollan, Caroline Dhavernas as Grace Hatherley, Rachel Hurd-Wood as Lorinda, and Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy Summers

Guest Starring:Robin Sachs as Ethan Rayne, Evangeline Lilly as Marissa, Gary Oldman as Mr.

Felix, Mila Kunis as Florence Wiggins, Christy Carlson Romano as Hope Lehane

Fade In:Int.New York – Wiggins' Home – Private Office – Resume

"You never mentioned your sister was a slayer," said Jeff.

"She isn't!" said Faith, without blinking. "She wasn't, anyway."

"You mean, when Willow activated…"

"No, that's not what I mean!" Faith stared at Hope, who gazed expressionless back. "I've seen you since then, and you didn't have slayer powers."

Hope shrugged. "Things change."

"Yeah, right!"

"Um…excuse me?" Jeff stepped in between the two. "Before this turns into some kind of drama on the WB, maybe we could try – I don't know – politeness? Just to start with?" Getting no answer, he turned to Mr. Wiggins.

"Good evening. I'm Jeff Lindquist, and this is Faith Lehane, both of the Watchers Council. You're Charles Wiggins, am I right?"

"Very much so."

"Please to meet you."

"Likewise."

"Thank you. Now," Jeff stole a look at the two sisters before proceeding. Neither looked ready to throw any kind of blow or weapon. "As we understand it," he continued, "Miss Hope Lehane here has been hiring herself out as a freelance demon hunter?"

Wiggins nodded. "Her bona fides were most impressive. As you can imagine, I never really expected to need the services of a…slayer, I think is the term?"

Jeff nodded.

"But she came highly recommended. Cleaned out a private school in Long Island where a bunch of…well, I know it sounds silly, but a bunch of three-eyed demons were rounding up kids for Lord-knows-what."

"Three eyes? Hmmm. I think I probably know what they were up to."

"Do I want to know?"

"Probably not."

"Let's leave it at that, then."

Again, Jeff nodded. "So you hired Hope. Why?"

Wiggins took a deep breath. "My daughter Florence was kidnapped by vampires. I would have thought the whole idea ridiculous up until a few months ago. But her bodyguards were all drained of blood. Plus their weapons had been emptied. Quite frankly I doubted this young lady could do much, that is, until she demonstrated some of her abilities." At that he walked over to the fireplace and picked up a poker. It was tied into a knot.

"Impressive," Jeff said.

Hope didn't quite smirk.

"Showy," said Faith. "Giles would even say gauche."

"Maybe," said Wiggins, putting the poker away, "but she convinced me. And the proof is the final product. I have my daughter back. She's upstairs now."

"You sure she's still herself? If a bunch of vampires had her with them for more than a few hours…"

Hope interrupted her sister. "Florence Wiggins entered this house without being invited. She had a reflection too. She's fine."

"Good to hear," said Jeff, with a smile.

"If it's true," Faith muttered.

"Excuse me," offered Wiggins, "whatever issue these two ladies might have as siblings, I would like to state for the record how pleased I am with Miss Hope Lehane's work. Anything else is between – well, the three of you."

"Many thanks for your time," said Jeff before Faith could speak.

"Yeah, well," said Hope, "you know where to find me if you need me."

"Indeed I do," Wiggins replied.

Jeff turned to the door. He made eye contact with each of the Lehane girls, then gestured to the door.

Cut To:Ext.New York – Staten Island Street – Night

It wasn't lined with mansions, but the neighborhood clearly enjoyed some impressive property values. Both Lehane sisters strode, without speaking, even with one another from the front door of the Wiggins' house to the sidewalk. Jeff brought up the rear.

"You know," he offered as Faith and Hope reached the sidewalk, "I'm an only child, so exactly what's going on between you two isn't really something I'm likely to understand."

"Not that hard," said Faith. "My dad and sister tried to sell me to a bunch of demons."

"That was Dad."

"And you!"

"You know, from all I've learned, you're not exactly someone to talk. Dad was at least trying to save his life. Okay, it was a worthless life, but trying to stay alive kinda sorta is justified."

"Justified? Killing someone who isn't threatening your life is wrong."

"Oh really?" Hope looked directly at her. "Then explain to me why you killed some stranger just 'cause your fake daddy asked you to!"

Faith did a take. "Hey!" she exclaimed as she stopped. She opened her mouth to continue, but Jeff stepped between them.

"You know what?" he began. "I've been hearing all my life about New York pizza. Care to join me?"

"You," said Faith after a solid three-second stare, "are certifiable."

"Maybe." He nodded.

"I. Am. Not. Hungry. Got it?" Faith remarked.

Jeff smiled. "No offense, but I wasn't asking you." Then he cocked his head at Hope.

"What?" Faith's voice lowered an octave.

"Hope?" Jeff began. "I don't have any siblings, so I'm not even about to get in the middle of this debate, but I do understand demon-hunting. All the demon-hunters I know – which number in the dozens, by the way – work up a big appetite. How do you feel about a quest for Italian food?"

At Jeff's smile and Faith's indignant stare, Hope smiled. "Actually, I'm famished."

Faith's mouth opened, but no words came out. Neither Hope nor Jeff seemed to notice as they began to walk again, leaving Faith to catch up.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Meeting Room – Later

"The fact is," Rowena was saying, "we don't have enough hard evidence."

She sat at the briefing table with Robin and Willow nearby. All had books and files before them as well as individual cups of coffee. Ambient noise was absent, and only a few lights were even turned on in the room. Each had legal pads with notes scribbled across them. Next to Willow were three different colored pens, and her notes likewise showed three colors. Robin's legal pad showed the precise, tiny marks of shorthand, while Rowena's displayed actual diagrams.

"Funny," said Robin, "I thought the Council, old and new, had whole archives of records about vampires, plus God knows how many other demon species."

"We do," said Willow, "that is, they did and we do, but at the same time they didn't and we don't. Did, didn't. Do, don't." Her voice trailed off.

Robin looked at her, then at Rowena. "I don't speak 'Willow.' Think I'm gonna have to ask for a translation."

Rowena grinned before she started. "Some facts about vampires and about a lot of demon species are established," she answered. "For example, we know that vampires need blood, that they spontaneously combust in direct sunlight and are immune to most weapons and most injuries with a few exceptions, things like that. But a lot more fundamental – or if you like, subtle – questions haven't even been asked. Or if they have, they've been…lost."

"You mean stolen," Willow muttered angrily. "Stolen by deadbeat ex-boyfriends. Ex-boyfriends who, if I ever meet, I might actually turn into the rat he is a-and drop him in a cat kennel at the Humane Society."

Rowena grinned slightly. "Thanks dear. That's very creative on your part."

"Hey, no one shoots my girlfriend, not to mention, my ex-girlfriend, and gets away with it," Willow said firmly.

"So," Robin began, "what's in these books and what don't we know?"

Willow said, "Like how much of the original person is left. Like when I met myself as a vampire, there were things about her – about me – I didn't even know myself, well, not at the time."

"Excuse me?" Robin's eyebrows shot up. "Guess I missed that one. You met who?"

"Oh, this one's a goody to hear," Rowena assured him conspiratorially. "Will did a spell, and she goofed it up. She ended up bringing herself to Sunnydale from an alternate timeline, one where she was a vampire."

"Yeah, and she was…well, hot." Willow hesitated. "She had the whole black leather thing going on, and since she didn't have to breathe, that bustier thing really…" She made a gesture with her hands. "…pushed things up and out and stuff. But the point is she came on to me. She even grabbed my butt when she hugged me goodbye."

Silence.

"That's…" Robin appeared intrigued but confused at the same time.

"I mean," Willow interrupted, "she was gay, kinda. And I wasn't. Not then. Well, I was I guess, deep down, but I didn't know I was. Not till later. But she…" Willow paused her rambling and glared at Rowena. "Stop wanting to laugh!"

Rowena held up her hands in surrender, finally chuckling. "I can't help it. I swear – the look on Robin's face trying to conjure that mental image." She grinned. "Probably the same one I had when I first heard this story."

Any reply Robin might have made was forestalled by the theme music from ' The Twilight Zone ' coming from his inside coat pocket. Ignoring both ladies' raised eyebrows, he reached into the pocket and took out his cell phone. "Hello."

"You are not going to believe what is going on!" Faith's voice was loud enough that he actually pulled the cell phone away from his ear.

"Maybe," he said. "But then I'm believing a lot more than I used to. You're in New York?"

"Yep."

"Did you find the Demon Hunter folks were talking about?"

"Oh. Yeah."

Robin took a beat. "Someone you know?"

"My ever-loving sister."

"Hope?"

"Do I have any other sisters?"

"Good point."

"Oh, and here's the kicker – she's got super strength now! And no, I don't know where she got it."

"Just a sec. How old is Hope?"

"About three years younger than me."

Robin looked at Rowena and Willow. "Is there any way someone slightly younger than Faith could have been called as a slayer within the last two years?"

Willow shook her head. "No. The call happens at the onset of puberty or right after I did the spell in Sunnydale. Why?"

Robin held his finger up. He turned his attention back to the phone. "Willow says she can't be a slayer. The timeline doesn't fit."

"Yo, Ace? I knew that. I'm looking for something I don't know."

"Okay, okay. What does Jeff think?"

"Jeff? Wait'll you hear this! Harry Potter Jr. takes one look at my would-be murderer sister, decides she's hot, and asks her out on a date! That's where he's at right now! Eating pizza with an attempted murderer."

"Hmm, is she?"

"What?"

"Hot." Robin waited, a dangerous full second and a half.

"What the hell does that have to do with anything? She's my sister, what do you think?"

"I'm asking so I get an idea of what's up. So it's just his hormones then and not a spell of some kind?"

"Nope. Just his brain…and other parts I'm sure!"

"Well – leaving that aside for now – what else did you learn? How does Hope say she gained her powers?"

"She wouldn't tell me squat."

"Guess that's to be expected. But your sister, she went out on a date with Jeff, you say?"

Willow and Rowena, listening to all this, blinked, in unison. Willow even opened her mouth to say something, but then didn't.

"Yeah. Just goes to show even the brainy ones sometimes don't think with the head on their shoulders!"

Robin took a deep breath. "Then – presumably – she's talking to him right now. Right?" He waited. After a few moments, he repeated himself. "Right?"

Silence. More silence. Then, Faith said, "Maybe."

Cut To:Int.New York – Antonio's Ristorante – Continuous Same Time

"So there I was," Hope said in between bites of garlic bread, "hitch-hiking outside Philly, and nobody was picking up nobody. But, I figured, at least it ain't raining."

The restaurant, or "ristorante" as the outside sign proclaimed, had wallpaper designed to look like red brick. The lighting remained almost dim, while patrons sat upon almost-matching chairs painted black. Hope and Jeff had found a booth in back.

Jeff, actually biting into a slice of pizza at that point in Hope's story, winced. He managed to chew a few times before near-mumbling, "Let me guess."

Hope nodded, a smile cracking one side of her face. "Yep. It started to rain. A downpour. In November, no less. Sucked all the heat out of my body in about three seconds. I made it to the next turn-off, still without a ride thanks very much, and went looking for some shelter. And that's when I got lucky." Before going on, she finished her garlic bread. "I think I want some more of this."

Jeff took the hint. Catching the eye of their waiter, he held up the empty breadbasket and pointed. The waiter nodded. "Go on."

Hope just looked at him for a moment. "This is fun."

"Good Italian food always is."

"Yeah. But…the fact is, it's good to celebrate after a job."

"Don't you usually?"

"Not like this. The clients sometimes take me out, you know, but they keep me at arm's length. Half the time I expect them to give me a friggin' gold watch."

"Scared."

"Yeah! They need me to be Wonder Woman or something, but then they start thinking, if I can do that, maybe I'll turn on them. Maybe I'm not really human. Half the time they act like I might turn into a vamp any second." The ends of her mouth were turned up, but she wasn't smiling. Her eyes didn't seem as bright either.

"Obviously they've never seen you scarf down garlic bread."

"Nope," she said with a grin, a real one.

"Hey," he said.

"What?"

"Let me show you something." Jeff looked around, making sure no one was watching. Then he pointed a finger at the unlit candle on their table, between his pizza and her linguini. "Incendes," he said. The wick glowed, then a flame flickered into existence. His eyes caught Hope's. "Sometimes," he said, voice low, "they look at us, and all they see is something they don't understand. It scares them."

The waiter arrived with another basket of garlic bread, melted cheese still sizzling. He also had with him a pitcher of soda, with which he refilled their drinks before retiring.

"Good service," remarked Jeff, picking up a piece of garlic bread then dropping it. "Ow!"

"Don't get burned," Hope said.

"I'll be more careful. Promise."

"So," she continued, "there I was, soaking wet and freezing, looking for somewhere kinda sorta dry, when my luck just changes. As in, does a U-turn. First, I find a house. Big. Two stories. A gable in front. Got a circle of pine trees all around it. And – empty. But there's this big ratty sofa, about twenty feet from a working fireplace! It wasn't the Ritz, but after being in the downpour, it felt like I'd won the friggin' lottery!"

"So you broke in?"

"Damn right I did. The place was abandoned, weeds in the driveway, some windows boarded up. So I just busted a few boards and shimmed my way through. I went to sleep under a bunch of tarps I found. Woke up hours later after the rain had stopped. My clothes were dry, and I felt good. In fact, I felt great! That's when I tried to open the boarded-up door. The wood just snapped like a twig. Easy. Way easy. Too easy. After that, I kept trying to see how much I could move, and it was weird – like I was Clark Kent's long lost twin or something! I went to the kitchen and picked up the refrigerator like it was a cardboard box. I searched around the cupboards and dressers left behind and came up with some change and a couple bucks for food. I walked to town, grabbed myself some breakfast, and then panhandled enough money to catch a bus. Turns out the town's name? Luckville!"

Jeff stared. "No way."

Hope just laughed and nodded.

Cut To:Int.Parked Car – The Next Day – Afternoon

Rowena was sitting behind the wheel of a car with a kerchief over her head and a pair of sunglasses on when the passenger door swiftly opened and Xander sat down inside.

"All set?" she asked.

"Hit it," Xander said, pointing his finger forward before turning to put on his seatbelt.

Rowena checked her mirror and then pulled into traffic.

Cut To:Int.Parked Car – Moments Later

After driving to a new location, Rowena pulled the car off to the side of the road and put it in park.

"You're sure Willow isn't on to us?" she asked.

"Positive."

"And Vi?"

"Would you relax?" Xander told her with a grin. "Nobody knows anything. I told Vi I was lumber shopping. Besides, she's busy training."

"Willow was waiting on Ken in the coven room. She thinks I'm getting groceries, so I need to stop by the supermarket before we go back."

Xander rolled his eyes. "If you ask me, this is getting too damn complicated, and I'm getting a tad concerned at this point."

"About what?" Rowena asked.

Xander pointed out the window toward the building beside them. "We're running out of places to go. We're going to have to start hitting the same places twice at this rate and you said –"

"I know. I said we'd go somewhere different each time. And we have," she stressed. "But don't worry because this is it. The last time."

"You said that last week," Xander replied.

"I mean it this time."

"You meant it then," he retorted.

Rowena sighed, "I know but this time…it's different."

"Although it's been a barrel of monkeys so far," Xander began, "I'm hoping you're right."

Rowena squared her shoulders and gave a nod. "Okay, last time. Let's do this."

Xander nodded his agreement and then got out of the car at the same time as Rowena. He paused to wait for her, and they walked to the door of the building. He held the door opened and motioned for her to go inside.

Cut To:Int.Building – Same Time

Once inside Rowena dropped her kerchief and took off her sunglasses. She and Xander then watched a man walk toward them extending his hand. Behind him were glass cases filled with jewelry.

"Welcome to Cedric's," he told them. "How can I help you today?"

Rowena looked unsure how to answer, so Xander replied.

"We're shopping for engagement rings," he told the clerk.

"Oh, how wonderful. You two make such a cute couple."

"Not us," Xander replied. "She's going to pop the question to her girlfriend, who's my best friend."

"Oh," he answered.

Before he could go on, Rowena added, "But not necessarily a ring but maybe a bracelet or necklace. Or a ring would be okay too I guess but…she's not very conventional so I'm looking for something that's unique and…" Rowena paused in thought.

"In other words, she can't make up her mind," Xander added as he patted Rowena on the back.

"I'll know what I want when I see it," she told him. "I brought you along as backup since you've known her since infancy. If anyone would know for sure what Willow would like, it would be you."

"Like I said," Xander said. "I'm happy to help." Xander leaned over and looked at the clerk's nametag. "So Dennis," he began, "maybe you can lead us to something unconventional, unique. Something that may or may not be a ring? Does that narrow it down enough?"

Dennis smiled.

"Right this way," he said, motioning them to follow him, which they did.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Coven Room – Same Time

Kennedy gingerly walked into the coven room and leaned against the doorframe. Willow began to grin even before she turned around from her workbench.

"I see you made it," Willow remarked before slowly turning around.

"How did you know it was me?" Kennedy asked. "Magic?"

"I'd like to say my magics are that powerful but no. Your footsteps. The sound of your breathing. The creaking sound of someone leaning against a door frame. And since Faith is the only other person I know who does that, I knew it was you." Willow grinned, and Kennedy followed suit. "So are you ready for your first Magic 101 lesson?"

"No," Kennedy confessed. "But I want to be the best slayer I can be. The magics Rowena and I borrowed from Al helped save us. So if learning some of this stuff means I could save someone else, well, I'm on board with it."

"Is there anything you'd like to learn first?" Willow asked.

"That teleportation was kind of cool," Kennedy remarked.

Willow chuckled. "Well, let's start with floating a rose first before zapping anyone across space."

"So I need to pass go and collect my $200 before I start buying hotels?" Kennedy replied with a smirk.

Willow chuckled again. "Yes. You've got a lot of power, Kennedy. But let's make sure you know how to walk before putting you in the 440 relay, 'k?"

Kennedy grinned and nodded.

Fade To:Int.Watchers Council – Lobby – Later That Day

"You did well for your first lesson," Willow complimented as she and Kennedy walked through the main hallway toward the open lobby where various watchers and slayers were moving about. "Next week we'll work on more object control. It's not always about you being able to move things but also being able to stop them. Having the ability to stop a knife moving at 100

miles per hour without using your hands can be just as important, if not more important, than having the power to do the hurling."

"No doubt…This magic stuff isn't so bad," Kennedy replied.

Willow gave her an exaggerated sigh. "Nowwww you realize this?" They both began to grin and walked along in silence for a few moments. "So…you really think it was Ethan who gave Jordon his powers?" Willow asked Kennedy as they walked along.

"Who else?" Kennedy asked.

"Yeah but…I don't think Ethan would do that to us," Willow argued.

"This is the same man that conned a young girl out of a baseball card worth thousands of dollars," Kennedy replied. "He's capable of anything."

"Yeah but still…"

"Are you going to make me put on the Giles voice?" Kennedy asked. "Ethan is not to be trusted," she said with a deep, English accent.

"Maybe not, but I like to think that maybe he's at least changing."

"Think it all you like, Willow, but that won't make it so."

Cut To:Int.Undisclosed Location – Apartment – Same Time

The television blared loudly in the small, modest apartment. On it, a chorus line of vampires in tap shoes clicked and clacked their way across the screen while a girl with blonde hair sang a sad tune about being alone in her great struggle.

The channel changed. A talk show host was mediating a panel consisting of a man in a white sheet with his pointed hood thrown back, a stern-faced woman with a bible in her hand, a skin-headed youth with an insignia on his shoulder, and a demon with green skin and red eyes who was trying to make a case for the integrity of his particular race.

The channel changed again. A beautiful young woman dressed in black and looking more like a hooker than a witch stirred something that smoldered and spit from a large, fake cauldron. She cackled unconvincingly and told her audience to add a quarter teaspoon of rosemary before the pinch of sugar.

The television clicked off. In the blank screen, Ethan Rayne's image reflected back at him. He glowered at the man he saw sitting slouched to one side, hair mussed, unshaven, unkempt, one slipper on and one off, his bathrobe tied loosely and hanging unattractively from him.

He picked up the scotch glass beside him on the couch. There was a swallow left, and he scrutinized it contemptuously. Suddenly, the glass flew across the room and struck the TV screen, the scotch splashing in all directions.

Cut To:Ext.City Street – Half Hour Later

Ethan tugged his coat closer around himself and walked along the city streets. Everywhere were signs of the changed times brought about by the revelation and mankind's acceptance of magic, demons, and mystical worlds. Ethan's fine Italian loafers and the tailored shirts and slacks that set him apart as a man of distinction now seemed old-fashioned and completely out of step with the pseudo-style of the occult. Wiccan Robes for Every Occasion, All Things Demon, End of the World Emporium, The 'It's Alive' Baby Boutique, and a dozen other shops with similarly themed names leaped out at him within a mere two blocks. He stopped suddenly, feeling nauseous, and steadied himself with a hand against a brick wall.

Cut To:Int.Posh Office – Moments Later

"So you're looking better today, Ethan. How do you feel?"

Ethan stared back at the professional-looking, salt-and-pepper haired woman sitting across from him. She was not much older than he, but looked years younger. She smiled at him pleasantly and waited.

"How the bloody hell do you think I feel?" he said, stopping short of saying 'silly cow.' "The whole bleeding world's gone daft!"

She continued to smile at him.

"Lid's been blown," he muttered angrily. "Cat's out of the bag. The Queen's lost her knickers!" his voice rose. "And nobody – I mean nobody – gives a sodding damn about what's real and what's a sham! It's bloody chaos out there!" he nearly shouted.

The doctor gazed at him, puzzled, but still smiling. She looked down at her chart and began to flip through the pages. "Now, Ethan…please correct me if

I'm wrong – I know I wrote it here somewhere – but I thought you said that chaos was your area of expertise…"

Ethan mocked her smile with his own. "Yes," he said, his voice dripping with sweetness, "chaos is my area of expertise. And I do enjoy a ripping good frenzy of panic and confusion. But this…" He rubbed his hand over his head. "…this is bloody deranged!"

"Ethan, we've talked about this. You have to let go of it. Never mind what others are doing and focus instead on what you are doing –"

"But I'm not doing anything. I'm consulting! Consulting at my own trade a-a-as though I'm some old, has-been…Look, I should be out there plying my craft, not pontificating on it while these hacks and wannabes, these suddenly-sorcerers who've no more clue about pulling a-a-a rabbit from their collective arses than they have about memory spells or energy bolts or raising the dead–"

"Oh yes, I saw that on the news. The insurance companies are really blocking coverage for psychological treatment of these 're-run-ers' – the Recently Resurrected." The doctor leaned forward and said secretively, "The insurance companies are coding them '3-D': Dead, Damaged and Dealing." She shook her head.

"The point," Ethan said slowly, his jaw tight, "is that I am now working as a consultant because these pretenders, these-these charlatans are taking all the actual magic work! They're snapping up real magic jobs for less money and doing them half-arsed at that. And no one will argue with them for fear of reprisal! Imagine doing substandard work and then threatening someone with mystical harm if they complain about the results! I'd be out of business – and probably dead – within a week if I –"

Ethan cut himself off. "What's that?" he asked pointedly. "What are you writing down?"

"A prescription," the smiling face answered. "It'll calm you down. It won't change the world. But it might help you change your perspective a little. And that wouldn't be such a bad thing. You have a lot to offer this new socie –"

Ethan was halfway to the door. He waved his hand angrily, and the door immediately flew open so hard that it hit the wall and shattered the beaded glass with Dr. Stanislow's name on it.

Ethan exited, and the door instantly flew shut, rattling on its hinges.

Dr. Stanislow sighed and removed her glasses and her salt-and-pepper wig. She hit the intercom button on her phone. "Shelly," she called to her secretary. "You'll have to call the door people again," she said as she rubbed her eyes and then the nubs on her head from the horns she'd had surgically removed.

Fade Out.

End of Act One

Act TwoFade In:Int.Mr. Felix's Office – Day

Mr. Felix glanced over the file in hand. Across from him sat a black man in a suit.

"…the conclusions are fairly easy to boil down, sir."

Felix nodded, still looking the file. "Go ahead."

The man took a breath. "The current Watchers Council is just a fragment of the former organization. Five years ago, a series of carefully timed attacks wiped out virtually the entire upper management as well as most of its field operatives. Current leadership consists of those few who escaped that initial attack – approximately two dozen at most – as well as various friends and allies of the former Council, built around a nucleus of one group, mostly associates with the then-slayer Buffy Anne Summers. All have considerable experience in the field."

"I would assume so."

"Yes, sir. But only two of the core leadership are above the age of thirty, and another is in semi-retirement, Mr. Rupert Giles. He was an Oxford dropout and Ms. Summers' watcher when she was 'the one girl.' The other two are Rowena Allister, a graduate of the old Watchers Academy, and Robin Wood, who was a public school principal in California."

"Some managerial experience, then."

"Some, yes. His tenure as a principal lasted less than a standard school year."

"Ah."

"He is also in a romantic relationship with one of the slayers, Miss Faith Lehane."

"The convicted murderer who gave herself up then escaped from a maximum security prison? Impressive. In all sorts of ways." Felix nodded as he flipped pages in the file. "And another romantic relationship among the core leaders, I see. Miss Allister and Miss Willow Rosenberg."

"A homosexual liaison, sir."

Felix looked up, his expression equal parts amused and annoyed. "Obviously. Have you ever met my brother?"

"No, sir."

"He and his husband have been together twelve years last August."

"I…offer my congratulations." He paused. "There is also a third such relationship, sir."

"Oh?"

"Xander Harris and Violet Joston, sir. Their weapons designer and one of the senior slayers."

Felix smiled. "Nice to know there's so much romance in the world."

"In terms of their private lives, I am sure. Our evaluation, however, regards the overall efficiency of the group as a whole as –"

Felix raised his hand for silence. "Yes, I understand that. The question before us is not whether the Council is comprised of good or bad people. Nor is it a question of whether they can accomplish their stated goals, on occasion.

Even multiple occasions. We are concerned with their viability as an organization long-term. Not what they do or do not do this year or next year."

"Their long-term stability does seem very suspect."

"Yes." He glanced again at the file. "I wish I did not agree. This Council has at its disposal awesome power, and even more awesome responsibility. Yet they are mostly college dropouts who've barely reached the quarter-century mark. While it has picked up institutions and traditions from the previous Council and has accomplished much in the last three years, we would be stupid not to worry."

He looked off into space for several seconds, long enough for the analyst to finally interrupt. "Sir? Will you be authorizing sanction?"

"No! Not on the basis of this," he tossed the file onto his desk. "We need more intimate data. Youth isn't necessarily a disqualification. Alexander the Great conquered the world before he was thirty. Raphael was one of the world's great artists at the same age as some of the Council members. Shakespeare never went to college, and Ulysses Grant was a total failure at the start of the Civil War, then went on to save the Union. There's more to people than statistics." He paused again.

"Your orders, sir?"

"How many slayers are there?"

"The exact number isn't known, precisely. Tens of thousands at the least."

"Out of tens of thousands, don't you think we could find one or two that aren't totally satisfied with the Council and its choices?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Turn one, you mean?"

"Recruit," Felix corrected. "Continue with our recruits. That shouldn't be too hard."

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Lobby – Morning

Marissa walked into the Council lobby and looked around at the expansion of it. Watchers, slayers, and other various staff moved around her in a hustle as she kept her leisurely pace to the reception desk.

"Welcome to the Watchers Council," the receptionist said. "How can I help you?"

"Faith Lehane," Marissa answered. "I need to talk to her. I'm a…a friend."

"You must know then that Ms. Lehane is out of town at the moment. If you'd like to leave a note, I'll deliver it to her mailbox upon her return." She pushed a pencil and piece of paper toward Marissa.

"That's okay," she answered. "When is she due back?"

"Well, if you are a friend, I would suggest you call her and ask. We don't provide that information to just anyone, Ms...?"

Marissa gave a sarcastic grin. "Thanks anyway," she said before turning around.

When she did, she came face to face with Willow.

"Hey," Willow began nervously. "What brings you by?"

"Relax," Marissa said with a grin. "I'm not staying. I just stopped by to tell Faith I found a new job, but maybe you can pass this along to her." She handed Willow a business card.

"Really? Well, that's good," Willow said as she examined it. "Bureau Nine? Who are they?" she asked.

"I guess you could call them a security company or freelance monster hunters. That's my job anyway – providing security to clients that have had to deal with the demon element."

"Oh, I…I haven't heard of them."

"I'm not surprised," Marissa answered with a grin. "But see that Faith gets that if you don't mind," she told her. "And tell her I'll call her next week."

"Yeah, no problem, Marissa," Willow replied. "I'm-I'm glad things are looking up for you."

"You too," Marissa said as she motioned around their environment. "See ya."

She began to walk away as Willow looked at the card again.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Buffy's Office – Moments Later

"And these people would be?" Buffy handed the card back over her desk to Willow where the witch and Rowena were seated across from her.

"I told you everything she told me," Willow replied. "She didn't seem too secret agent-y about it."

Buffy turned to Rowena. "I know you've got a lot on your plate with the vamp studies and your sessions with Dr. Millenti after your snow adventure-slash-confrontation."

"Dr. Millenti has cleared me for service and opened his door to talk if I need to. But right now, this takes precedence over all else. First, Tyrell and now these guys hiring former slayers?" Rowena posed.

"You think there's a connection?" Buffy asked.

"Well, that's what I'll try to find out. May I?" Rowena asked Willow, extending her hand toward her.

Willow handed over the card. "Go for it, Sweetie."

"I'll see what I can dig up," Rowena told Buffy.

"Good. If you need help, maybe Jim can lend a hand?" Buffy suggested.

Rowena grinned. "That's a joke, right?"

Buffy shook her head and smiled. "I know I keep asking but…why? He seems like a great guy."

"Ohh," Willow said with a touch of curiosity in her voice. "Really? Is Buff following my lead in the benefits of watcher love?" she teased her.

Buffy just waved her off.

Rowena shrugged. "I could explain, but we don't have that kind of time," she replied. "Let's just say he's an egotistical pretty boy, and I'm…not a boy. Otherwise, we're very much alike."

"Confident doesn't equal egotistical," Willow replied.

"Oh, another thing," Rowena added. "He doesn't have a hot girlfriend who knows the right thing to say and when to say it."

Rowena smiled at Willow and then back to Buffy.

Cut To:Ext.Watchers Council – Hallway – Moments Later

"I think Buffy's crushing on Jim," Willow whispered conspiratorially to Rowena as they walked down the hall.

"Please, Will. Give Buffy a little more credit for having better taste," Rowena replied.

"I'm sorry, but I like Jim," Willow replied. "He's mature, he's handsome, and he's not undead. I like him. There I said it. Now rake me over the coals if you want."

Rowena stopped and turned to Willow smiling. "No, not unless you want to experiment," she added as she wiggled her eyebrows.

"Stop it," Willow chuckled.

"Vamp Willow probably would," Rowena said, trying to act put out.

"I think she'd be the one doing the raking, not playing the rake-ee," Willow replied, making Rowena chuckle.

Xander rounded the corner to see the two of them there. "Oh hey," he said casually. "How are you two fine gals doing today?"

"Not bad," Willow replied. "What brings you up to the executive floor?" Willow asked.

Xander looked surprised at first. "Oh, I, uh, I wanted to talk to Ro actually."

"Oh," Willow said casually. When Xander didn't add more and Rowena didn't say more, Willow cleared her throat. "Oh, well, I'll…just go then." She turned

to Rowena and looked at her a moment as the watcher wore a paranoid expression. "I'll see you for lunch?" she finally asked.

"It's a date," Rowena told her happily and forced a grin to her lips.

Willow leaned in and gave Rowena a kiss before nodding to Xander and walking away.

Both Xander and Rowena waved as Willow looked over her shoulder at them before rounding the corner.

Once she was out of sight, Rowena slapped Xander's chest with the back of her hand. "Good move," she whispered. "Now she thinks something is up between us."

"I just wanted to know if you had asked her yet. I expected to find you in your office, not standing right here. I froze, okay?" Xander told her.

Rowena sighed. "No, not okay. Now she probably thinks…"

"What?" Xander asked.

"What?" Rowena asked, perturbed. "That we're having an affair," she added. "Did you notice the look she had?"

Xander coughed and tried to point behind Rowena as he played with his collar.

"What?" she asked as she turned around to see Buffy standing in her doorway with a scowl on her face. "It was almost like the one she's wearing now," Rowena began.

Buffy closed the distance between them. "I might not officially be a slayer anymore, but I still have slayer strength, and if you two are fooling around on Will behind her back, so help me –"

"No!" they both yelled. Rowena sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. "Jesus, at this pace everyone is going to know about this except Willow."

"Know what exactly?" Buffy asked.

Rowena grabbed Xander by the arm and then took Buffy's. "To your office. Now," she said as she pulled them both down the hallway.

Cut To:Ext.New York – Faith's Hotel Room – Same Time

Faith was reclined against her headboard. In her hands was a copy of the Gideon's Bible. She continued to read until she heard a knock at her door. In almost a guilty fashion she opened the nightstand and put it back inside the drawer before rising to her feet.

After the knocking stopped being intermittent and became a steady drumbeat, Faith finally swung open the door.

"Oh look. The boy wizard."

"We've got to talk," Jeff said.

"Yeah?" Faith leaned against the door jam with folded arms. "Want some tips on getting lucky with my sister?"

Jeff blinked. "You…could say that. But not the way you mean. Anyway, I'm not the one who needs some luck right now."

Faith hesitated. "What do you mean?"

"Seer and oracle, remember?" Jeff raised his hand. "That's me. And right now, you're the one in danger. Not me. You…I can feel it. I did a Tarot reading this morning. And worse, the danger is growing."

"I'm a slayer. Comes with the job."

"Then why am I feeling it right this second by being near you and not all the time?" He waited.

After a moment, Faith let him into her room. She didn't look happy.

Cut To:Int.New York – Faith's Hotel Room – Continuous

"First things first," Jeff began without preamble, "Hope isn't a Slayer. That I'm pretty sure of."

"I coulda told you that."

"Right. Now, this is important. That remark last night, about killing some stranger because your fake dad asked you to."

"What about it?"

"Okay, that seemed aimed at you and was very specific. Something to do with Mayor Wilkins is my guess. Am I right?"

"Pretty much." Her mouth looked like she was tasting something nasty.

Jeff held up a hand. "I don't need to know details. But – how did Hope know about that? Did you tell her? From what Council gossip I heard, you hadn't spoken to her in years until she showed up in Cleveland."

Faith's expression didn't change. It froze. "No. I never told her. I mean she knew I killed someone, but I didn't give her the specifics."

"You're sure?"

"No doubt."

"Okay, then how did she know? Your criminal records were erased, and chances are she wouldn't have had access to them before then. And why would she? You guys weren't on speaking terms. So again, how did she know?"

Again, Faith's face remained frozen. "You're good at this," she said finally.

"Excuse me?"

"Being a watcher. I shoulda caught that."

He shrugged. "Siblings have issues, I hear. You focused on what she said to hurt you, not exactly how she knew it."

She lifted one eyebrow, almost a full millimeter. "How do you think she knew?"

Jeff rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm not sure," said Jeff.

"Great," Faith said sarcastically.

"But listen," Jeff went on, "if this was some kind of plan, like she was up to something, she wouldn't have said anything that revealing."

"Probably."

"Yeah, probably. But either way, seemed to me she was just reacting to the situation. Not unlike…" He didn't continue.

"Me. Yeah. Go on."

"I think – and maybe I'm wrong about this – but I think Hope read your mind. That's how she knew about the Wilkins connection. She mentions murder, and that's the first thought, conscious or unconscious, that came into your head – the murder you did for Wilkins."

"Okay, so she reads minds. That still doesn't explain the super strength."

"No, but it's one piece of the puzzle," Jeff replied. "Right now, I'm more worried about the readings I'm getting. You are in danger, Faith, and we need to figure out why before it's too late."

"Maybe it's another idea she and my dad cooked up?" Faith scoffed. Jeff looked apprehensive for a moment. "What?" she asked.

"I'm just going to say it: No, because your dad's dead, according to Hope. She told me last night that he died not long after the assassination attempt. I'm sorry, Faith."

Faith looked a bit taken back by the news and then just shrugged. "Fine but where does that leave us?"

Jeff looked reluctant again. "I wish I knew."

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Detention Area – Later That Day

Dawn walked over to the security pad beside the detention area door. She punched in the numeric code and waited for the requisite green light and buzz to go off. When they did, she opened the door.

As the door to the detention area opened, one figure in particular looked up from her cell. Skye stood as she saw Dawn enter the area, shutting the security door behind her. The walls were dull, different shades of pale – greens, browns, grays. It had the antiseptic air of a hospital coupled with that of a public school.

But Dawn went straight to the cell where Skye now stood, eyes following her. She stood before the cell several seconds.

"Hi," whispered Dawn.

"Hi, baby," answered Skye, eyes glowing in a blinding, completely human way.

Dawn grinned.

Cut To:Ext.New York – Staten Island Street – Same Time

Jeff stood less than thirty feet from the water. Hope stood beside him. Both had their eyes focused across the water to Manhattan.

"There," Jeff said, pointing. "I was only a kid then, but there've been plenty of pictures to refresh my memory."

"Weird," murmured Hope.

"Yeah."

"I was in school that day," she continued, "and the teacher tried to make it all real. She talked about some skyscrapers in Boston, said to imagine them two or three times taller, then just collapsing like that. The clouds on the street really got to me."

He nodded. "Pulverized concrete. Thousands of tons of it, turned into talcum powder. Plus who knows how many people inside. Hundreds at least."

Neither one said anything for the longest time. "I just…" Hope began but didn't get any further. Her eyes were wet. "At least," she said after a while, but voice cracking, "Lady Liberty's still there, huh? Punk hairdo and all."

"I think," Jeff said with a smile, "that's supposed to be a crown."

"My idea's way cooler."

"No argument about that."

They shared a smile, then Hope spotted something behind Jeff. "Hey. Wanna hotdog?"

Looking behind him, Jeff saw a vendor opening up an umbrella next to a stand. "A real New York hot dog? Of course!"

"Everything on it?"

"Nope. I'm a wimp. Just mustard."

She snorted. "You are a wimp."

"Least I admit it."

"Be right back," she said with a wink.

Hope strode over to the vendor while Jeff watched. His gaze traveled the length of her moving form, from the sandaled feet to swaying hips up to tossed hair. But his hand emerged from his coat pocket. In his hand lay the amulet with two griffins around a dark stone. Only the stone wasn't dark anymore. Now it looked like a large oval pearl, all the whiter because of the dark metal around it.

Jeff's smile fell.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Hallway – Same Time

Rowena and Xander headed for the former's office.

"I know it's not exactly normal slayer fare," Xander said, "but I think it might work. We get hardened wood bullets, plated with a silver alloy, and get the coven to bless them six ways to Sunday. You can't use 'em in anything but low-velocity firearms, but that is actually a plus because then they stay inside the target's body."

"You hope."

"Well, that's the idea."

"I'll bring it up with Willow," Rowena promised.

"Hey guys!" The voice of Kennedy echoed from their left. Both stopped until Kennedy herself got into clear view and easy hearing. She looked at Rowena. "According to the log book, you checked out the Marble of Whazzopolis…"

"The Orb of Theophilus," Rowena corrected her.

"Yeah, whatever – the point is, I was going to try to maybe see how good it'd work on patrol, but the log book says you've got it."

"I did."

"Uh…so you don't now?"

Rowena gave a shrug in apology. "Jeff thought it would be useful in New York."

"Damn," muttered Kennedy.

"He's an oracle, Ken," said Rowena. "Although I would have probably given it to him anyway. I didn't know you wanted to use it."

"Okay, okay…"

"S'cuse me." Xander raised a hand. "What is this Orb of Theodore thingee?"

"Orb of Theophilus," said Rowena. "It's an amulet we bought at an estate sale a couple of weeks ago."

"Really?"

"Wizards die, too, ya know," offered Kennedy. "And their families sometimes need money."

"So," continued Xander, "what does it do?"

Rowena and Kennedy looked at each other. Then the former gestured as if to say 'go ahead.'

Kennedy looked at Xander. "The Orb detects the presence of demons."

Fade Out.

End of Act Two

Act Three

Fade In:Int.Watchers Council – Hallway – Day

"But," Lorinda said to a hurrying Vi, "I won!"

"That isn't the point."

"Winning isn't the point?" Lorinda's voice rose an octave on the last word.

"No." Vi's voice dropped one. Her jaw clenched.

"Then I didn't do anything wrong!"

"Yes, you did."

Rowena saw the pair of them coming and stopped. She waited the three or four seconds it took them to come into range.

"…which was the whole point of the exercise!"

"You never told me that was the point!"

"And that's why you failed!"

"But I didn't fail!"

"Excuse me." Rowena hardly raised her voice, but both Vi and Lorinda stopped. The two slayers had been almost ready to walk by, or through, the watcher. "What seems to be the problem?" She put on her best how-can-I-help smile.

Lorinda and Vi glowered at each other a moment before the latter answered. "I organized a training exercise for the younger slayers," she said, "and Lorinda insisted on taking part."

"You asked for volunteers!"

Vi waved that away. "The purpose of the exercise was teamwork. Slayers have to learn to operate as a team, especially against groups of demons."

"Didn't used to," muttered Lorinda under her breath.

"Just a moment," said Rowena, raising one finger. "Vi, continue."

"Little Miss My-Way," continued Vi, "deserted her team to sneak around and score against the target by herself."

"How did the others do?"

"Fine. Everybody else passed with flying colors! They worked together, like they were supposed to, and scored. No thanks to Lorinda, who left them to fend for themselves!"

Rowena took a deep breath, thinking. "Hm. You know, I'm coming from a different place than you are," she said. "Up until recently, there was only one slayer, and she had to operate on her own pretty much all the time."

"See!" Lorinda crowed.

"But!" Rowena raised an eyebrow. "Things are different, now."

"That's what I was –" Vi interjected.

"At the same time," Rowena interrupted, "if a slayer can't fend for herself, she's not much better off if she can't function as part of a group." They both glowered at her, Vi simmering, Lorinda pouting. "I'll have a long talk with Jeff when he gets back. I promise. Meanwhile, it sounds as if the other slayers didn't need Lorinda, am I right?"

"No," Vi admitted. "They didn't."

As Lorinda began to smile, Rowena looked at her. "Fortunately, you didn't need them – this time." She repeated for emphasis. "This time."

Now Lorinda said nothing for two whole seconds. "When will Jeff be back?" she asked in a low voice.

"Soon as he and Faith are finished. The 'rogue slayer' we heard about turned out to be…" She paused. "…more complicated than we thought. Way more."

"But," asked Lorinda, "who-ever-she-is, Jeff will still be my watcher, right?"

"Absolutely."

"Okay."

Now Rowena shared a look with Vi, whose eyebrows were rising in a new configuration in the wake of Lorinda's question. Rowena herself let her eyes

widen a little bit, meeting with Vi's. Not quite a wink, but with much the same effect.

"Ro!"

Willow came down the hall at not-quite-a-run, a fast walk. "Quick! Where's Viago's Lore of the Demon World? We've only got one copy, and you checked it out."

"My office. Beside the desk."

"Thanks!" She headed past the trio.

"Wait."

Willow stopped, spun around.

"Is something wrong? Something more than usual?"

Willow barely paused. "If I'm right, Jeff and Faith are in a lot more danger than they think. Gotta go." She hurried off.

"Danger?" squeaked Lorinda. "What kind?" Willow didn't stop. Lorinda started to follow. "Willow?"

The two turned a corner and were out of sight in seconds. Lorinda's voice calling out "Willow?" was still audible, though. Rowena and Vi looked at each other.

"Guess I owe a Dawn a nickel," Vi muttered.

"Huh?" Rowena asked.

"Lovesick teenager with a major crush," Vi replied.

"Ahh," Rowena said with a grin.

Cut To:Ext.New York – Staten Island Park – Later

Jeff stared at Hope. More precisely, he stared at the remains of her meal, or the lack thereof. She was wiping her mouth with napkins.

"When I was younger," Jeff began, "my mom used to call me a human vacuum cleaner. This was after a famous incident where I finished two large pizzas all by myself."

Hope grinned. "What happened?"

"Puberty. But even then, twelve hot dogs with everything would have been a bit much." He gestured at the wrappers to Hope's side on the bench.

She just laughed. "Gotta admit, my appetite went ballistic after I became a slayer."

"You believe you're a slayer?"

"Makes sense. Some force or whatever chooses girls to be demon fighters. They get superpowers. Here I am. Guess I'm more like Faith than she wants to admit."

"That's okay with you?"

"Yeah. I'm good. Five by five."

"Wow."

"Now what?"

"Oh, I was just thinking about all the siblings I know. My best friend has a sister, and they're a lot alike. More alike than they want to be, truthfully."

"There ya go."

"But they hate admitting that. I mean, they really hate it."

"Faith and me, we're different."

"I'll say."

They both grinned at that, then each saw two figures approaching from the street. "Speak of the devil," said Hope.

"I was going to say that."

As the two figures neared, Faith remained silent, but her companion raised his hand and waved. Mr. Wiggins wore a different suit than last night, but it was cut from the same mold. Conservative and expensive. "Very glad to have found you," he said once in earshot.

"Hey there," was Hope's reply.

"Mr. Wiggins," Jeff nodded politely.

"Miss Lehane, Mr. Lindquist," Wiggins gave a perfectly polite bow. "Were I a superstitious man, I would count it good luck to have all three of you here at the same time. Under the circumstances, that is an ironic statement, I suppose?"

"A little," Jeff agreed.

"We've got ourselves a demon nest," Faith said.

"Yes," Wiggins nodded. "That is why I looked Miss Lehane – excuse me, Miss Faith Lehane – up at her hotel. My hope was to appeal to all three of you."

"Details?" asked Hope.

"There's an abandoned house a few blocks from my home. A very nice place that has, however, seen better days. Our local neighborhood association has been much concerned about unwholesome elements starting to use it. Homeless, runaways, drug addicts, the like. Well, as of today we've confirmation of squatters, but nothing so mundane."

"Some species of demon, I take it?"

"From the description of our witnesses, I don't see how they could be anything else. Certainly not human. At least a dozen of the creatures."

Hope laughed. "Looks like me and big sis are gonna get to work together."

Faith did not look happy at these words, but Wiggins said, "That was my hope. And you too, Mr. Lindquist – that is, if you are the type to actually operate in the field? Or are your duties primarily administrative? My ignorance in such matters is, I'm afraid, all too pervasive."

"I can handle myself, Mr. Wiggins, thank you."

"Jeff's quite the Harry Potter," offered Faith.

Wiggins looked at her. "Excuse me?"

Faith blinked. "How could you not know who –"

"Never mind," said Jeff. "What Faith means is, I'm skilled with magic. But I'll need to go get some supplies back at the hotel."

"Oh," said Wiggins. "Well, if I'd known, I'd've brought them to you."

"So where's the nest?" said Hope, rising with a smile on her face. "I'm all revved up and ready to kick ass."

Faith rolled her eyes.

"You two go ahead," suggested Jeff. "I'll get my gear and meet you."

"Here is the address," Wiggins said. He handed him a card.

"Thank you." Jeff accepted the card. "Faith, you don't mind helping Hope out, do you?"

"I don't need –"

"Hey," Faith said, cutting off her sister, "I've been killing demons years longer than you."

"Faith does have more experience," offered Jeff.

"Okay," said Hope with a sigh.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Computer Lab – Same Time

"Surely it can't be that easy," Grace said, sounding unconvinced as she typed Bureau Nine into the Google search box.

"Well, it is the information super highway," Rowena replied, tapping the business card on the table.

"'Sides, Will and the Scoobies used the net for research all the time back in the day."

"Yeah, back when demonsdemonsdemons.com was actually a demon anthology website, and not a 404 page that redirects you to bigjugs.com. Pop-up cycles about how to increase your girth are never pleasant." Grace turned up her nose and shook her head. "That's why I heart Firefox," and with that she hit the return key. "No girth ads."

The browser refreshed as the string query compiled all the listings with the criteria. Both Rowena and Grace blinked, shocked as the very first listing was in fact Bureau Nine's website at www.bureaunine.info.

"Oh…it was that…easy," Grace mumbled with a confused frown.

Rowena took control of the mouse and clicked the link. The window maximized to full-size, and the rather minimalist yet sleek and stylish Bureau Nine logo, cast in silver and a corporate block font, faded in from the black background. The logo zoomed to the top of the page and resized itself with a links tab flickering into view below it. A panel of white text faded into the center of the page with the sub-heading titled 'About Us'.

"This all looks a little professional for them to be an evil organization," Grace commented. "I mean they're even being demure about how much Flash content they use. They're being considerate to the 56k user. That's pleasantly odd."

"No one said they were evil, Grace," Rowena flashed her a quick look.

"No, but you gotta admit there was a distinct odor du fish, and it seemed a bit cloak and dagger from what little Marissa told Willow."

"She wouldn't say much anyway. Marissa and Willow aren't the best of friends," Rowena muttered. She leaned in closer to the monitor. Her eyes motioning from left to right, and back to left again with almost the same mechanical movement as a typewriter.

"They're…a security firm," Rowena said, surprised, sitting back in her chair as she relaxed to read more of the blurb.

"An evil security firm?" Grace said with a cock of her eyebrow.

Rowena lightly shook her head. "A legit security firm from what I see," she pouted as she read on. "Looks like they even have corporate advertisers. I don't know how I feel about that. Perhaps it would have been easier to find

out that Bureau Nine is evil, and then we could have shut them down. But on the other hand, I'm kinda relieved that they're not."

"Well, we don't know that; it could all be a front."

"Hence the research," Rowena chipped in with a glance to her assistant and a small smile.

"Hence the research," Grace repeated with a firm nod and a slight salute.

"They're doing security. They're licensed from what it says, and they're just doing what we do but for a charge." Rowena folded her arms.

"But if they're rounding up slayers…?"

"They didn't break any laws by approaching Marissa. Sure she's a slayer, but she's a human too, and she can choose what she does for a living."

"But how did they know to contact her?" Grace asked. Rowena gave her a knowing grin. "Hence the research," she added before Rowena could answer.

Rowena grinned at first and then looked serious again. "The fact is we don't have laws that state that every single slayer in the world must fall under Council control. We don't want people to work for us who don't want to be here."

Grace fidgeted in her seat. "Even if their calling dictates that they should be a slayer or a watcher?"

"It's all about personal choice…You didn't want to be a watcher, did you?"

Grace shifted awkwardly and just stared at the monitor. "Yes, no, and yes. In that order," Grace sighed. Rowena looked to her for an explanation. "My mother was a watcher high up in the ranks of the Old Guard London Council."

"I know," Rowena replied. Grace looked surprised, so Rowena went on. "I read your file. Did you think the only reason you got this job is because I'm sleeping with Xander's best friend?"

Grace looked bashful for a moment and shrugged.

"I know her family before her were watchers too," Rowena went on, "but they gave their children a choice once they had finished their education to become watchers. But I take it the tradition continued to your generation, and you passed on the offer at first?"

Grace nodded. "My mother groomed me to be a watcher from as early as I can remember. I wanted to be her at one point."

"What happened?"

"I grew up," Grace said with a grin. "I wanted to be my own person, and I made a choice not to be a watcher. Then last May happened, my dad's house was singled out by demons, and they came after me."

"That's when you changed your mind?" Rowena asked.

Grace nodded. "Yeah. Because of my calling, it put my Dad's life in danger, and if it hadn't have been for what my mother had taught me, I wouldn't be sitting here today, and my dad wouldn't be in Portland writing his novel. I knew I couldn't deny my calling then. It wasn't just about what I wanted but what other people needed."

Rowena smiled. "Well, not to sound like an Army recruitment poster, but it'll be the toughest job you'll ever love."

Grace turned back to the monitor. "Hey! I thought you were teasing. They really do have corporate sponsors." Grace commanded the mouse and clicked on the link.

"Yep. So not only do they do what we do but for a price, but they also have investments by some of the world's leading security and IT firms. Something we don't currently have, save for the automakers and food endorsements and the subsidies we get from the advertisements in Watchers Monthly," Rowena said, scrolling down the page when she arched a brow. "Okay, assistant of mine."

Grace looked concerned. "What?"

"How do you fancy spending the rest of the day with the yellow pages and a phone?" Before Grace could protest, Rowena said, "Great! We need corporate sponsors. Big

corporate sponsors to put on our site." She pointed to the monitor. "And we need to know they're legit."

"So what? My true calling is to be a PR gal? A phone book lady?" Grace wore a look of perplexed disgust.

"Today? Yeah. But first check out their licensing," Rowena said, standing and taking her notepad. "I'd better report up to the ranks what we've got so far."

Grace pointed at Rowena as she left the computer lab. "Fine, I'll do this. But I draw the line at posing for the next magazine cover!"

Rowena grinned and walked backward to face Grace as she spoke. "Too late. They already snared yours truly for next month. Call if you find out anything."

"Watcher and a cover girl too, huh?"

"It's a living," Rowena said with a grin as she slipped outside.

Cut To:Int.Watchers Council – Library – Later

Willow had a book open, with a legal pad next to it. She had plenty of notes scribbled across that pad and was making more when her cell phone chimed. Instantly, she picked up.

"You called?" said Jeff's voice.

"Hey! Why didn't you pick up? I've been calling for over an hour!"

"I didn't think getting interrupted would be a good idea. You have some news for me?"

"Yeah. Ever heard of an Auflexian demon?"

"No."

"Well, neither had I. But there was a confirmed sighting about a decade ago in the town of Luckville. A whole family died."

"Let me guess. In a house with two gables and a fireplace?"

"Two gables, yes. A fireplace, maybe. I'm working from newspaper clippings mostly and notes compiled by the old Council, and they didn't go much into interior décor. They didn't even mention the two gables! I got that from a photo that was part of an old clipping. At least, I think it shows two gables. Technically, I'm not totally sure what precisely defines a gable, so maybe…"

"Willow."

"Right. Okay. Auflexian demons are incorporeal, needing hosts in order to do anything more than just…well, float. But they don't just take over. When they possess someone, they start to turn that person into whatever their dream image of themselves might be. Even if they notice anything wrong, they don't resist because it is like a dream come true. Meanwhile, the demon slowly takes total control."

"That sounds like an awfully elaborate method of possession."

"Yeah, but it has to be. Up until the victim's mind is absorbed, he or she can banish the demon by an effort of will. But that's the point – the victim doesn't want to."

"Hope."

"From what you described…"

"The demon is turning her into Faith."

"Pretty much. And Jeff – at full power, or anywhere near it, an Auflexian is much stronger than a slayer. And commands more magic than you do. A lot more."

"How much more?"

"Maybe more than me," Willow answered.

Silence. Then… "Damn."

"Just try to hold things down as long as you can, and I'll get there ASAP," Willow told him.

"Willow, you can't teleport here. I can try to set up a junction point like you did for Ro and Ken with Al's help, but if I goof it up then –"

"I know," Willow said, stopping him short. "I'll end up as part of someone's chair or end table." She paused in thought for a moment. "I'll fly. It's only about an hour away, two at the most. Just hold them as long as you can, 'k?"

"All right. Just get here."

"On my way," Willow said as she hung up.

Cut To:Ext.New York – Staten Island House – Later

The house was two stories, yellow with white trim and a neatly manicured lawn. In front was a sign reading FOR SALE, but with another sign slipped over it, reading SOLD.

Faith and Hope looked at the nice house with nearly identical expressions: puzzlement.

"Squatters?" they said in unison. They each did a little take on that then shrugged.

"Okay, well, this place doesn't exactly look like a snake pit," said Faith.

"Still, Wiggins said…"

"I know, I know."

"You're not ready to go in. Remember, I didn't ask for you…"

"We both know that." Faith sighed. "Let's go in, then."

"Five by five."

Both of them headed for the front door. Neither seemed to notice that they were moving in perfect unison, with identical sway to each hip and swinging precisely the same arms in the same rhythm.

A thick, three-fingered hand with claws at the end lifted one curtain on the ground floor of the house towards which they were headed.

Fade Out.

End of Act Three

Act Four

Fade In:Ext.New York – Staten Island House – Resume

Hope and Faith walked in unison towards the front door of the house. Both watched – again, in unison – the windows of the house. Each had a heavy curtain, revealing nothing of what lay inside.

"No light," noted Hope.

"Maybe vampires," said Faith.

"Could be."

They neared the porch. Again, they stepped in unison up all three steps to the porch. Faith had her stake in her right hand. Hope drew out two daggers. Brown with white trim, the front door waited for them.

"Something's…" began Faith.

"…weird about this?" finished Hope.

"Uh. Yeah."

Hope shrugged. "Got a job to do."

Both sisters braced themselves on their right legs, getting ready to kick the door open with their respective lefts. Then – the door swung open.

A tall figure in robes stood before them. His (or hers – it was really impossible to tell) skin was hairless, mottled grey. Large dark eyes were set wide apart on the skull with a small mass of tentacles where in a human being a mouth would be found. No nose of any kind was visible.

"Oh, hello," said the demon. "Are you ladies from around here? Our new neighbors maybe?" The head turned from one to the other energetically. "Won't you come in?" A hand with three clawed fingers waved the way inside.

Hope blinked. Then blinked again. But it was Faith who simply strode inside the house. "Sure. Got any beer?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but are you two old enough to be drinking beer?"

"Me, yes." Faith said with a grin. "Her, no."

"Hey!"

"Perhaps a soda for you then, Miss?"

"Good idea," called out Faith from inside the house.

After a moment or two of indecision, Hope followed her sister indoors.

Cut To:Int.New York – Staten Island House – Living Room – Continuous

Faith took a quick look around the room she'd entered. It held little enough furniture, apart from the heavy curtains. A low coffee table off to one side stood surrounded by large cushions. A shorter, heavier version of the first demon, this one's robes were blue, unlike the first's, which were green.

"What?" wheezed the second demon. "Who's this?"

"Neighbors, Granddad," said the first demon. "Actually, we should do some introductions, huh? I'm S'Retniw and this is my grandfather, Rihaz. Pleased to meet you!"

"Hi," said Faith with a smile. "I'm Faith. This is my sister, Hope."

"Yeah." Hope said. "Hi. I guess."

"Faith and Hope, eh?" Grandad looked at the two of them. "No offense, but your parents were tempting fate with those names, ya know?"

"Don't I know it," agreed Faith heartily.

Grandad shrugged. "Well, they probably meant well."

"Maybe," was Faith's answer.

"Beer and soda? Was that right?" S'Retniw piped up. "We don't have a lot of variety, I'm afraid. Just moved in, you know."

"I got that."

"My daughter," Grandad offered, "and her husband are out shopping. I'm sure they'd like to meet you."

"Five by five," said Faith with a wave. "No worries."

The two demons looked at each other. "Um…" began S'Retniw, "I don't know that phrase. Five by five? What does it mean?"

"Well, you see…"

Hope interrupted. "Why are we doing this?"

Faith looked at her. "Doing what?"

"Chatting with a pair of demons?"

"Hey, they seem like nice enough folks to me. Vl'hurgs, am I right?"

S'Retniw seemed to brighten. "Why, yes! How did you know?"

"I live in Cleveland. Got a friend there, and he's Vl'hurg."

"We almost moved to Cleveland!" chuckled Grandad. "Would've too, except for the little bit of a Hellmouth you got there. You sometimes get a bad element around those things." He nodded sagely.

"You got that right!"

"FAITH!"

"What?"

"WHY ARE YOU HAVING THIS CONVERSATION?"

The slayer looked their hosts. "Listen, you've got a neighbor. His name is Wiggins. The fact is he knows next-to-nothing about…well, non-humans…and he had a really bad experience with some vampires."

"Vampires! Say no more!" Grandad said with a wave of his claws. "Shameless things!"

"And so pointless, too," agreed S'Retniw. "I mean, it's nobody's fault they need blood, but there are how many butchers in this country? Throwing away how much blood I'm sure they'd much rather be selling?"

"Like I said – shameless! Shameless!"

Hope twirled her daggers.

"Stop that!" Faith used her older sister voice. It didn't work.

"Make me!"

"What's going on here?" Grandad asked.

"I'm here to do a job," said Hope. "And I'm going to do it."

"No," said Faith, "like I said these are Vl'hurgs. They're harmless."

"Harmless?" muttered the old demon. "I'll have you know that in my day I got into a rumble or two…"

"Grandad – she means you don't hunt people."

"Of course not! What am I? A vampire?"

"Guys?" Faith said. "I'm trying to save your lives here." That got them quiet. And suddenly very still. Not even their tentacles twitched. "Like I said, Hope, these guys are harmless. I'm not gonna hurt them. Not even a little bit."

"Fine. Just get out of my way…"

"And – I'm not going to let you hurt them, either."

The silence that followed was anything but empty.

Cut To:Ext.New York – Staten Island Street – A Little Later

A taxi pulled up. Jeff practically jumped out of the back seat and looked around. He saw the numbers of each house, then ran towards the one where Hope and Faith had entered.

"Hey!" the cab driver called out after him. "Don't you want your change?"

Jeff ignored him and kept running. As he neared the house, he could hear crashes inside. He picked up speed. Nearing the door, he made an arcane gesture with his hand, muttering an incantation.

Cut To:Int.New York – Staten Island House – Continuous

Jeff did not bother to knock. He simply burst through the door, still muttering and still making the same gestures as before.

The living room now had cracks in the plaster. The coffee table was broken into lots of pieces, scattered all over the room. From the kitchen door, the Vl'hurg S'Retniw peeked out, watching the fight.

And a fight it was. Hope and Faith were duking it out with a vengeance. Kicks and blows were flying between them hard enough to create an echo in the small room. Jeff could barely make out their faces, so fast were they ducking blows or moving to put as much power behind a kick as possible. But one of them was clearly faster and getting in more hits.

She managed to make two connecting hits directly to her opponent's face – sending her back. Then, a twirling kick put her on the ground. Still, her opponent tried to get up. Another kick – directly to the face – sent her down again.

Faith grinned. But Jeff observed she was wearing Hope's clothes, and his eyes went wide.

On the floor, Faith groaned, bruised and battered.

Jeff looked between the two Faiths, then extended his hand towards the Faith on the floor, the one wearing the same clothes Faith had worn earlier.

"Garde," he said, ending his incantation. Cold green flame erupted from his hand, bathing the whole room in its light for a moment. Like a cocoon, the flames wrapped around Faith. She struggled for a moment, then grew still.

"She's going to be annoyed," said Jeff to no one.

The other Faith, wearing the clothes of Hope, grinned. "Thanks, Jeffy!" She reached down and picked up Faith's discarded wooden stake. "You're just in time to help clean out this nest!"

Eyes on the Vl'hurg cowering at the door, Jeff said, "No."

"That's cool. I can take care of them myself –"

"No, I meant that isn't going to happen." He looked directly into Hope's eyes as he said this. No bravado. Nothing like a threat. Merely a statement of fact.

Hope chuckled. "You really think you can take me?"

"Faith couldn't." He pointed to the confined figure on the floor. "See."

She just stopped and stared at Faith's form. "Is she dead?"

He shook his head. "Just immobilized. And protected. It'll fade away in a few minutes."

"Enough time to do my job!"

"Faith's job as a slayer has never been to kill demons."

"Oh, really?" Hope scoffed.

"Really. She defends people. That involves killing demons that are a threat. Vl'hurgs are no threat. They're neat, nice, orderly neighbors. Faith – the real Faith – would never kill them just because they're here. Like I said, the real Faith wouldn't do that."

Hope blinked, seemed about to say something, then shook her head as if to wake up.

"I…wait a minute…"

"What's your name?"

She stared at him. "My name?"

"Hope. Your name is Hope."

"No, it isn't."

"Can't be Faith, can it? I mean," he pointed to the floor, "that's Faith right there."

Now she looked at Faith. "Wait," she said after a moment. "That doesn't make…"

"What's Faith's boyfriend's name?"

"Just a second…I think I remember…"

"Robin. He's missing a leg. Which one?"

"Wait – he's missing a leg?"

"That's right. Which one? You could guess. Fifty-fifty chance of getting it right, after all. Of course, Faith wouldn't have to guess. She wouldn't have to think twice. This is the sort of thing she knows. Like what happened at last year's Halloween Party, or what's the name of the vampire Dawn's in love with. For that matter, who is Dawn? Do you know?"

The woman who looked like Faith seemed about to be sick. "I don't…you're confusing me…"

"Listen to me." Jeff stepped very close to her. "Your name is Hope. It's a nice name. I like it. I like you. A lot more than I like Faith." He stepped even closer. "A lot more."

After a long pause of breathing deeply, she said, "Faith – she's handful."

He nodded. "Yeah. She's cool. But she's not Hope. I want to see Hope."

"But…"

"I want to see Hope."

"…she…"

"I want to talk to Hope."

Now the young woman's face was simply slack. She cast unfocused eyes around the room before looking directly into Jeff's. "Why?"

"Because she's Hope. She's fun, and funny, and attractive. I like her. Maybe more than like. I really, really want to find out. The only thing is – Hope seems to have some issues with her sister. Now, I'm an only child, so the whole sibling thing isn't really something I get, but this much I do know. Try hard as you can, there's no way you can ever be Faith. All you might succeed in doing is to destroy Hope. That's what worries me. That's what I don't want. Please – be Hope."

"Nobody wants Hope." Her voice was almost listless.

"I do," he answered. Then he took something out of his pocket. It was the amulet. "Here. A present. For Hope. Not for anyone else, just Hope." He held it out towards her.

Slowly, her hand reached up from her side. Fingers closed around the amulet. She held it and turned it to see the amulet better.

"Oh!"

Hope's eyes shot wide open. She gasped. Her features began to shift, like suddenly melting wax. Bright red light emitted from her eyes, and she cried out in pain as her face continued to change. The light grew brighter and brighter, while Hope trembled and started to scream. Yet the scream faded along with the light. As it did, her features settled into their normal shape – Hope's, looking terrified.

Then, she fainted.

Fade Out.

Fade In:Int.Watchers Council – Rec Area – Night

Willow and Dawn sat across from Faith. Faith's face still bore a few bruises.

"I don't get all the details – don't understand 'em, really," Faith began. "But Jeff said what he'd done was put some kind of blessing whammy on the amulet."

"Which one?" asked Dawn.

"Jeez, I don't know."

"Hestia's Aura?" was Dawn's suggestion.

"Maybe. That sound about right, Red?"

Willow just nodded.

"I was thinking that because it would disrupt any possessing demon's inherent magics," Dawn added.

"Her advanced magics training seems to be paying off," Willow said proudly.

"Um…okay." Faith shrugged. "Well, anyway, he kept pointing out that I was right there, so she couldn't be me, and he kept complimenting her. Laid it on kinda thick if you ask me."

"That would help the Hestia's Aura," offered Dawn.

"Oh?"

"Reinforces the host's consciousness and sense of self, helping to re-establish control."

"If you say so."

"Sure! Jeff and I were reading about a case…"

"Dawnie?" Willow said.

"Yeah?"

"Let Faith finish."

Dawn subsided, looked back at Faith.

"So anyway," continued Faith with a sigh, "it worked. This demon had to leave, and Jeff blasted it with the Force or whatever. After a couple of minutes that…thing…he put me in did fade away, and after he talked me out of killing him, we helped clean up. Well, I helped clean up. He insisted on taking Hope to a hospital, and it was about that time that the knight in shining armor here showed up," she said, grinning at Willow.

"Why is it when you go on a road trip I have to come racing to the rescue?" Willow asked. "Last time you hung out with Hope, she almost killed you then too, and I had to race to get to you."

"Yes, but you didn't rescue me last time. I had everything in control," Faith replied. She paused a moment. "Truth is, you really didn't help this time either…You really should just stay home from now on." Faith grinned.

Willow threw her hands up in the air.

"Well, is Hope all right?" asked Dawn.

"Yeah! She's…fine. Then we both went and called Wiggins a bunch of names. Gave the Vl'hurgs our number if he gives them any more trouble. When I left, they were planning on having a barbeque to introduce themselves to everyone."

"Not typical Vl'hurg food, I hope."

"They ain't stupid. Hamburgers and hotdogs was what they were talking about when we left."

"And," said Dawn, "what about Jeff?"

"Stayed in New York with Hope. For a little while, he said."

Behind the counter twenty feet away from where the slayer and two witches were talking, Lorinda crouched unseen. She made no noise. No movement. All she did was crouch there and listen. Her eyes were bright. She did not smile.

Cut To:Ext.New York – Rockaway Beach – Morning

Twenty feet from the boardwalk stretching for miles, Hope sat. She sat in the sand, dividing her attention between the Atlantic Ocean before her and the amulet in her hand. Its central stone was black now. She traced its outline with one finger. Then the outlines of the fantastical beasts on each side.

"Good thing I've got magic," said a voice behind her. "Without it, I'd've had to pay a small army of private investigators to try and find you. I would've, too. But then I'd have to fill out vouchers and hand in expense reports, and it would have taken something like forever."

Jeff's voice managed to rise above the surf. Hope didn't look up, not even when he came right up and sat beside her in the sand.

"Pretty," he said. "Sometimes Rowena goes on and on about the sea. She grew up in a fishing village in Canada. Told me once that the first smell she can remember is sea air."

"Who's Rowena?"

"One of the watchers back in Cleveland. Actually she's head of the watchers division while Buffy's the Council Head. We've got three divisions. Watchers. Slayers. And Coven. I'm in the Coven."

They said nothing for almost one entire, endless minute.

Hope held up the amulet. "You want it back?"

Jeff reached over. With one finger, he pushed a strand a hair out of Hope's face.

"Nope."

Fade to Black.

End of A Little Faith