As Finley walked past the front window of her house, she could see one of her roommates sprawled on the couch, eyes glued to the television, while the other calmly painted her toenails. Obviously, the people who were coming to train Amalia, the couch potato, in the ways of the slayer had yet to arrive. She tucked a strand of dark hair that refused to stay in her worse-for-wear ponytail behind her ear as she made her way up the front steps.

Jiggling the touchy doorknob just so as she turned the key in the lock, she let herself into the house and out of her shoes, defiantly choosing to leave them by the door because it would annoy Shizune to no end. "Lucy, I'm home," she announced as she walked into the living room, "I take it I beat the travelling slayer academy in?"

Shizune capped her electric blue polish and looked up. "Your Spanish accent needs work. And you're right, they aren't here yet." She motioned to Amalia. "As you can see, she can hardly contain her excitement."

The blonde in front of the TV finally looked up, mostly due to the fact that it was a commercial break. "Hey! I'm excited! I just… show it a different way."

Finley flopped sideways into her favorite chair. "Like I believe you're excited about the prospect of regular exercise with people who can hand your ass to you. Sure. I believe you."

Grabbing the remote off of the floor, Amalia stuck out her tongue at her friend, before turning up the volume on her show.

Shizune studied Finley's ripped clothes. "What happened to you?"

Finley shrugged. "Usual."

"Do you need the first-aid kit?"

"Nah. My clothes got the worst of it."

"If you're sure…" Shizune replied, not sure if she should believe her friend.

"I am." Finley's head turned as she heard a car turn in the drive. "I think they're here."

A minute later there was a knock on the door. Finley looked at her roommates. Neither one of them moved. "You guys suck," she muttered as she went to answer the door after another impatient knock.

Giles started as the young woman opened the door to him and his fellow slayer-trainers. Readjusting his glasses, he took in the state of the woman's clothes. Her button-down shirt was torn beyond repair, revealing peeks of the skin underneath. Some of those tears revealed much more than a peek, he thought a second later. Her jeans were stained with something dark, something he sincerely hoped wasn't blood, though from Spike's appreciative glances, he was sure it was. He cleared his throat. "Are you Amalia Richards?"

Finley stifled a snort. "No. She's too lazy to answer a door. You might even get to meet her if she can tear herself away from the television."

An "I heard that!" issued from inside the house. As Giles led his colleagues into the house, the woman holding the door retorted, "You were meant to!" To him she said, "Just go right on in. Make yourself at home."

Finley watched as the man she believed to be a Watcher cautiously entered the living room. He was followed by a petite blonde and a redhead that seemed more than a little uncomfortable. She raised an eyebrow at the two men who remained standing on the porch. Both were relatively tall, but where one was broad-shouldered with dark spiky hair, the other had a slimmer build with platinum hair that was gelled back. Since she was certain she knew who they were, she asked with a lopsided grin, "Waiting for daylight?"

The linebacker just stared at her. "We can't come in without a formal invitation."

She sighed. He apparently didn't appreciate good banter. She mentally shrugged. No reason she couldn't entertain herself. She put one arm behind her back and swept the other out in an exaggerated bow. "Do come in, my good sirs." Finley was pleased to note that the blonde one snickered, giving her a big grin as she glanced up to look at him. It appeared she had found someone to match wits with. Mental fist pump!

She followed the vampires inside, taking a post on the opposite wall to allow their houseguests to claim the furniture. She noticed how they had already begun to introduce themselves, hoping that she would be ignored so that she could listen instead.

Amalia had turned off the TV, and was sitting as straight as her spine would allow. She seemed to be vibrating in place. Maybe Shizune was right about the barely contained excitement. She seemed almost breathless as she introduced herself. "Hi. I'm Amalia. About a year ago I found out I was slayer. It's so good to finally meet you!" She gestured to her raven-haired friend, "And this is Shizune. She's like an old-school priestess. She does really great exorcisms!"

The man Finley had pegged as a Watcher started introducing himself in return. "I'm Giles. I work for the Watcher's Council." He pointed to the blonde next to him, "This is Buffy, our veteran slayer. Beside her is Willow, who is a very powerful witch. I've known them both since they were in high school."

Finley turned as the vampire who now occupied her favorite chair spoke. "I'm Angel." He nudged the man standing beside him looking bored. She didn't believe it for a second. His face may have looked as though he'd rather be anywhere else, but she saw the way his eyes scanned the room, taking everything in.

He glared at Angel, probably for elbowing him. "Spike."

"The vampires with souls!" Amalia exclaimed.

The perky blonde stared at her. "You know about that?"

Amalia had the decency to look sheepish. "Only what Finley told me."

Giles looked around. "Who is Finley?"

Finley raised a few fingers, a little sad that her anonymity had come to an end. "Hi."

The Watcher's face brightened with recognition. "You are the one that informed the Council about Amalia."

"Yeah."

The newest addition to the slayer army dove back into the conversation, happily taking her friend's place. "She did that after the other Watcher guy disappeared. We think something nasty got him."

Finley resisted the urge to add, "Like karma." It was no secret that she despised Amalia's first Watcher. Talk of him tended to leave a bad taste in her mouth. She wasn't sorry that he had vanished, vanished being the operative word. She may have had something to do with said disappearance, but she intended to take that information to the grave.

"It's really awful what happened to Mr. Evans." Shizune chimed in.

An angry scowl flickered across Giles' face and was gone. He sighed. "I hate to be the one to inform you of this, but even though the man that Finley described to us does match the appearance of a Gregory Evans, he was dismissed from the council more than thirty years ago. We've received word of missing slayers, and we're afraid he might have something to do with it."

"Yeah. He does. He's selling their parts on the supernatural version of the black market." Finley growled. "Bastard." She ignored the looks of surprise she received from everyone, instead choosing to pick at one of the many holes in her shirt.

"Dear Lord!" Giles took out a handkerchief and began to polish his glasses. She absently wondered if it was a nervous habit. "That's much worse than we could have imagined."

Amalia stared at her friend, shocked at her admission about the Watcher. "You- you knew! Why didn't you tell me?"

Finley shrugged. "Didn't see the need. He disappeared. Figured he had a new target."

"A new target!" Amalia shouted, "You should have told me what he was doing!"

"I told you he was bad news."

"But I could have stopped him!"

Finley looked her roommate in the eye. "Youd've died."

"I'm a slayer!" Amalia looked at her like she was dumb. "Hello! Strength of ten men, remember?"

She was growing tired of this conversation. Quickly. "Strength is nothing if you don't know how to use it to your advantage. And you don't."

Buffy rose to put a calming hand on Amalia's shoulder. "Your friend is right. Strength goes a long way, but against someone like that, who knows a slayer's every weakness… She was right to keep it from you." The blonde turned to glare at Finley. "You were right to keep it from her, but this is something you should have told the Watcher's Council."

Finley wanted to hit her, but settled on calmly flipping off her houseguest. "I did tell the Council. Not my fault if they're sitting on their hands though, is it?"

"Finley!" Shizune admonished, "Stop being so rude! What's gotten into you?"

"Sorry," she said, even though she really wasn't, "But my "nice" left the building about three hours ago."

Spike grinned lazily. "Suppose that's about the time someone put you through the wringer?"

She gave a low chuckle. "You should see the other guys."

"Really, luv? And what do they look like?" he asked.

Finley met his gaze. "Dead." She answered simply, noting the surprise in his features.

Shizune interrupted their staring contest. "I thought you liked 'a good fight'."

She turned to look at the priestess, a little disappointed that she was torn away from her task of committing Spike to memory. "Yeah, if it's mine. This one wasn't. All of 'em were mad at Mathias for some reason or another. They came after me on account of they thought I'd be easier to kill. Obviously, I'm not." Finley sighed. "Why do they always pick on the secretary?"

"You're a secretary?" Angel asked incredulous.

Waving off his question, Shizune refocused her attentions on Finley. "That's not important. What is important is who was mad at Mathias." She looked at her expectantly. "Well?"

"Clients." She hedged, hoping the priestess would leave the subject alone.

"What kind of clients?" No such luck.

Finely rolled her eyes. "Does it even matter?"

"Yes!"

Angel turned to Amalia. "Just what kind of secretary is she?" he whispered.

"Mathias, her vampire boss, is head of a supernatural law firm" She answered, her eyes never leaving her two roommates.

"You're kidding!" He was shocked out of his indoor voice.

Amalia ignored his outburst, still keeping her voice low. "Relax. It's not like it's an evil law firm."

Everyone turned their attention back to the arguing friends, waiting eagerly for Finley's answer. The girl sighed in defeat. "Two Masters, some ugly-ass demon I can't pronounce the name of, and a spurned lover." She tilted her head in thought. "Last one was a nice bit of handiwork if I do say so myself."

Shizune looked squeamish. "Do I even want to know?"

A grin lit up Finley's face. "Just know that it involved an industrial hole-punch."

"Yep. I didn't want to know."

Willow gasped, no longer silently listening to the conversation. "I really hope the spurned lover was a demon of some kind!"

Buffy nodded in agreement, "Me too, Wils. Me too."

Spike studied the girl whose actions were in question. She had a pretty face, probably even prettier without the bruising on her jaw, the scrape along her cheek and from what he could see through her battered clothes, she had an equally nice body. She didn't look like someone who could go multiple rounds with the supernatural, but he knew from personal experience not to count anyone out based on appearance alone. She'd obviously been in a fight, and since the blood on her jeans wasn't human, he was forced to consider the fact that she might be telling the truth. But to fight vampires and demons on her own… Maybe there was more to her than he thought. "Two master vampires, pet?" he asked, hoping her answer would clarify some things.

Her eyes shot to his face. "Yeah."

Bullocks. That didn't help at all. "At the same time?"

"Yeah. Why?"

Definitely more to her than he had thought. She shouldn't have survived one Master vamp, let alone two. This time he directed his question to everyone but her. "Anyone else wonderin' how she's still alive?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." She muttered, the two vampires being the only ones that heard the stray comment.

"I most certainly am." Giles looked like he would soon be in full-blown research-mode if an answer wasn't found in the next few minutes.

"Maybe she's a slayer, too." Buffy volunteered.

"No." Finley seemed sure of her answer.

Buffy looked annoyed that her idea had been shot down so quickly. "You could be. How do you know you aren't?"

Finley's eyes squeezed shut as she pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to collect patience she wasn't sure she had. At her sudden epiphany, she turned to Spike. "I smell like a slayer?" she asked.

Shocked, he sniffed in her direction, sorting through the scents of the people around him until he got to hers. He sniffed again, deeper this time. Blood, sweat, blood that wasn't hers, cotton, denim, something he assumed was laundry detergent, covering the scent that was uniquely her. There wasn't the tell-tale tang that he'd come to recognize as a slayer trait, but there was something… electric about the scent. Like a coming storm. There was more than a little annoyance present in it, which was understandable he thought. Also a good bit of suspicion and mistrust. Still reasonable. After all, she was being told she wasn't human by complete strangers. Exhaustion. Mild curiosity. Disbelief. Violence. He fought to keep his face straight. It was, without a doubt, directed at Buffy. Breathing deeper, he decided he liked her smell. Spike was slightly alarmed at the realization that the demon found it soothing. Finally managing to tear himself out of his reverie, he turned to give his answer to the roomful of clearly impatient people. "No. Something, but not a slayer."

She turned back to Buffy. "There you are." Finley thought she was in the clear, that these people would just leave her be. But her hopes were dashed when Angel opened his mouth to weigh in.

"She can't be human. A human can't take the kind of abuse a Master deals out."

She shrugged. "So I'm a little more durable than the next person. What's it matter?"

Angel just looked at her. "There's no such thing as a durable human."

"Look. I have a pulse, I breathe, I bleed red. The hell do you want?"

Willow made her way over to Finley. Taking a deep breath, the redhead closed her eyes, raising the hand that had begun to glow softly. "Spike's right. She isn't a slayer. Her energy's all different."

"Does she feel human?" Angel asked.

The witch opened her eyes. "Yes and no. On the surface she feels human, but there's something underneath that. It's dormant right now though, so I can't really tell what it is, human or otherwise." She reclaimed her seat next to Buffy, who turned to her.

"Dormant as in 'not active' or dormant as in 'not active right this second'?"

"Dormant as in 'not active right this second'. I think she can turn it on and off." Willow declared.

They all turned to stare at Finley. "Don't look at me. I stand by my 'durable human' theory."

Spike looked around. "There's always one way to find out."

Buffy just glared at him. "No. Absolutely not. Willow can do a spell."

"This would be faster. I could even do it now."

"You can't bite her!" The slayer exploded.

"Why not?" he asked. "I saw the scar when she opened the door. She's obviously been bitten before."

"Because biting is bad!"

"Not to mention painful," Willow interjected.

"Not if he does it right." Finley stated softly, not expecting the room to grow silent just as she said it. And for the billionth time that night, everyone was staring at her. "What?"

Amalia was the first to speak. "Vampire bites don't hurt?"

Glad the subject was not her, she shook her head. "Never said that. Said they didn't have to. There's a difference."

The new slayer looked around. "Is she telling the truth?"

Finley glared. "Because I'd lie to you about that."

Spike was amazed the girl knew of the different ways to bite, but hurried to back her up. "Yeah. She's tellin' the truth."

Buffy stalked over to Angel, who had abandoned his chair in favor of pacing, and whacked him hard in the chest. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Angel rubbed his sore spot. "It never came up."

"I think that's something a slayer should be told by her vampire husband!" she yelled.

"When you don't feed on humans, it's not something you think about." He replied calmly.

Willow rose. "He has a point, Buffy. I don't think he kept it from you on purpose."

Unable to reasonably stay mad at Angel, she turned on Finley. "Well? How do you know something that neither slayers or the Watcher's Council even know about?"

Finley looked at Spike. "Is she trying to piss me off or is it just her nature?" His mouth twitched, which was more than enough answer for her.

"Well?" Buffy demanded.

She looked at the slayer, a bored expression on her face. "Because I'm more special than you. That's why."

"So you admit it!" Shizune cried.

Finley briefly looked like a deer in headlights. "Admit what?"

"That there's something special about you!" Her voice rose another octave.

"Hey! What about-" Buffy started. Angel cut her off.

"You know now. Just let it go."

Finley plopped down in the oversized chair that she'd claimed as her own. "Sarcasm, Priestess. That was sarcasm."

"Doesn't matter. You admitted it." Amalia affirmed.

"Not you too." Her head fell back on the cushion, seemingly ignoring the conversations going on around her, but he could see how her closed eyes flicked to the person speaking. Spike noticed that she suddenly looked very tired. He figured she should be if she'd fought all she said she did. He wondered if her friends even noticed. Certainly didn't look like it. He made his way over to her, sitting on the edge of her chair. He wondered if she really didn't mind being so close to him, or if she was just too exhausted to care. Spike gently tilted up her chin, turning her head so he could examine the faint bruising on her jawline.

She met his eyes. "I'm really alright, you know."

He gave her a half-smile. "Just makin' sure, luv." He finished looking at the mark on her face. It didn't look serious, nor did it seem to be bothering her. He moved on to the tears in her shirt, probing the slight scrapes and contusions inside them. He directed his attention back to her face when he failed to find any major injuries. If he thought she looked tired before, it was nothing compared to now. He didn't understand why once she sat still, she seemed to- He paused at the sudden thought. Just how much did that fight take out of her? He tucked that gem away for later consideration, and turned back to the discussion.

Willow looked thoughtful. "So what do you think she is?"

"She's not a priestess," Shizune volunteered.

Buffy sighed. "And she's not a slayer."

"Whatever she is, her scent is still mostly human." Angel asserted.

Giles settled his glasses back on his nose. "Perhaps she is a psychic of sorts."

Angel gave the Watcher a look. "How many psychics do you know that can take a beating this well?"

"He makes it sound like I got my ass handed to me!" she hissed to Spike, pitching her voice so that he was the only one to hear. "You saw! I've a couple scrapes max!" He put a hand on Finley's knee, hoping to placate her somewhat. Starting an all-out brawl with Angel probably wasn't going to help endear her to them.

Silence reigned after Angel's illustration. The witch finally decided to break it, again coming to Angel's defense. "He makes another good point."

Buffy turned to Willow. "Is there a spell that can tell us?"

Willow frowned. "Not that would test for everything. There's only a yes or no version… We'd have to do a new spell for every guess. It could take a while."

"I can think of a way. Quick too." Spike interjected. Riling the Slayer, on the other hand, was always good fun. Regardless of the situation.

"No!" Buffy roared, "There will be no biting!"

"Why not? I could have your answer in a matter of seconds."

Angel scowled at his grand-childe, who obviously wasn't receiving the message to shut the hell up and not aggravate Buffy any more than she already was.

Instead, the argument continued. "That's beside the point, Spike! You can't just go around biting people!"

"It'd only be the one person," Spike countered, "I could even do it all nice-like."

"Is that possible?" Willow interrupted.

Spike focused his attention on the witch. "Yeah. Takes a bit of experience, but it's doable. Quite a few different ways of doin' it."

Willow looked at him, her excitement over the prospect of new information amusing her friends. "Can all vampires do it?" she asked.

"Only Masters are capable of it." Angel jumped in.

Spike grinned. "And only if they aren't evil, sadistic bastards… Like Angelus." He met Angel's glare with an even bigger smile, pleased when he heard a small snort from his right. He turned to Finley, curious. "How'd you know about the different bites, pet?"

"Mathias is a Master. Know quite a few useless things because of it." She told him.

He picked up her wrist, angling it so he could see the twin punctures. "So your bites were…?"

"Painful? Yeah."

Spike was confused. "Thought he was a Master?"

Finley gave a small smile. "He is. But he was dying, so he was pretty much only focused on getting blood."

Since Spike had seemingly forgotten about their discussion, Buffy decided to focus her attentions on Amalia and Shizune. "Did you two know about this?"

The priestess was the first to answer. "About vampire bites? No. I had no idea."

Amalia echoed the sentiment. "I didn't either." She turned to Finley. "Hey. Why didn't you tell us?"

Her friend raised an eyebrow. "You going to let a vampire bite you?"

"Probably not…"

"Then what's it matter?" Finley asked.

Amalia sighed. She had a point. "I guess you're right."

"Generally am."

"And so modest." Shizune retorted.

Finley shrugged. "Again. Nice Finley is gone for the day. I promise I'll play nice tomorrow, or today after sleep. But sleep comes first, that's non-negotiable."

The newest slayer looked up. "Speaking of sleep, did you fix the couch in the basement?"

"Yeah," Finley replied, "Guest room too."

Shizune turned to her guests. "You guys are probably tired. Long drives always get the best of me."

Willow laughed. "Bed does sound nice. At least to me."

"I must agree with Willow," Giles acceded. "The ride was quite long. And I'm sure after a night's rest, we'll be able to properly train Amalia and, perhaps, solve the mystery that is Finley."

The priestess nodded and turned to Buffy. "We made up the guest room for you and Angel. It's even got black-out curtains."

Angel looked relieved. "Thanks."

"You should really be thanking Finley," she admitted. "Amalia and I forgot that vampires don't tan well. Of course, we don't usually have vamps as houseguests."

The vampire started to thank Finley, but she waved him off.

"You'll be staying with us in Shi's room," Amalia informed Willow before turning to the Watcher. "You'll be staying in my room."

Giles looked taken aback. "That's very nice of you."

"No problem." She redirected her attention back to everyone. "Come on, I'll show you where everything is."

Spike fixed his sights on Finley as soon as the room had cleared. "Where'll I be stayin'?"

She smiled. "You're with me in the basement."

He just stared at her. "They're makin' you sleep in the basement?"

Finley shook her head. "It's nothing like that. The basement was converted into an apartment, even has a separate entrance. Comes in real handy when you work a night shift. I don't wake them up coming in." She stood. "Here. I'll show you."

He followed her down to the basement, shocked at its size. She hadn't been exaggerating about it being an apartment. He found the separate entrance, noting how she had covered the small window in the door, even though said door was angled in such a way that any sunlight coming through it wouldn't be a problem.

She began pulling blankets out of a closet, stacking them in her arms as she spoke. "The door at the end is my room, one next to it is the bathroom." She set the blankets down on the couch. "It pulls out, and there's plenty more blankets if this isn't enough. Think there's even an electric one floating around somewhere… And you're welcome to anything in the kitchenette. I wasn't sure what kind of blood vampires with souls drink, so I got a few animals from the butcher and a couple types from the hospital. If you and Angel tell me which ones you prefer, I'll be sure to get more."

Spike stared at her, stunned. "You stocked up on blood?" He asked, still not quite believing.

She shrugged, giving him a bright smile. "Sure. You and Angel are going to be here a while. Can't have you going hungry."

His shock forced him to ask again. "You went out and got blood for us?"

Finley looked at him, confusion clouding her features. "You don't want it?"

Spike then decided he liked it better when she smiled at him, and quickly backtracked over the conversation to find where he'd misspoke. "That's not what I meant. It's just… no one's ever stockpiled blood for me. Not willingly, anyway." He admitted.

The smile was back. Points for Spike. "You got to eat, don't you? Besides, I went to the store for your friends."

"That's not exactly the same thing, luv."

"Sure it is," she said, as she started towards her room. "Remote's on top of the TV," was the last thing he heard as she shut the bedroom door behind her.