Demolition Woman

by PhynxLegion

Faith, having escaped the fiery destruction of the Cryo-Prison of San Angeles Demolition Man, discovers the Hell Mouth is still active. This is the final edited version. The continuation is now being started and will have its own section. Faith/Other, Willow/Tara.

1. Chapter 1

Part 1

Huddled around a shimmering globe, three women finish their solemn chant. Taking a deep breath, the young blonde opens her eyes and gazes deep into the green tumultuous haze within. Waiting in earnest, the elder woman to her left gingerly looks across the small table, anxious to see what glitters and shifts before her disciple. The other older woman, garbed in red flowing gown to the disciple's right, quickly grasps the left's hand and gives her a look, reinforcing her patience. With a slight sigh the younger girl continues, and speaks. "I see the children of light and darkness rising from an icy grave, to light the city in its darkest hour. I see the darkling visiting us, and asking a dark task, which I will be bound to complete."

The elder woman fidgets slightly and smiles. Squeezing the red-gowned woman's hand she silently mouths, "I told you so." Turning to the eldest, the woman replies silently, "I know."

The younger girl's patience begins to waver and clears her throat, ending the two women's exchange. "There's more…" This swings the attention back to the globe, and the disciple surges on, "… and the Hell Mouth will once again have a sentinel to guard against the night." She gazes intently, desperate to decipher the cryptic message.

The red dressed woman squeezes the elder's hand, smiles, and mouth's: "You didn't see that!"

In frustration, the elder woman seethes out sarcastically, "I know!"

Suddenly the globe darkens and room is awash in night, ending the divination. Frustrated, the younger girl whines: "MOM!"

In unison, the elder women say: "Sorry."

Los Angeles Police Department, South Central Division

1996

Crashing through the doors of the captain's office, John Spartan's hour long 'discussion' regarding his orders to stay away from Simon Phoenix, went over as the captain had expected. Another door will have to be replaced, as John rips it from the hinges, as he slams it close. Storming from his desk, the captain shoves the door aside and screams to the fuming Sergeant Spartan:

"Your new case is on your desk! And stay away from Phoenix! That's an order! Not that you obey those either."

John throws himself into his chair, and flips the manila colored file folder open to see a picture of a young woman. He immediately notes her short platinum hair, and wonders what a girl like this could have done to warrant his attention. Kayla Meadows. Running across the nearly one hundred listed offenses in her file, the last dozen catch his attention. Once again his temper is unleashed once more:

"Captain! When did the department become lap dogs to the FBI? This is a federal case!"

Smirking, the captain steps back out of his office, to reply. "When I have a Detective who can't keep himself from tearing up the city! They need a liaison, and you're it! This should keep you busy for a few weeks, and the Commissioner will stay out of my ass for some time, so that I can take a shit in GOD DAMN PEACE!"

"Why do we have to find her? That's the Fed's job, not mine!" John's face reddens further, as his anger is at the breaking point.

The captain, turning to leave, seethes: "It is now. She's somewhere in the city now, and the Feds are out of their league. They asked for a seasoned police detective to assist in the search, and the request came directly from the Mayor. Even though HE doesn't like you, I threw in your name; because if you don't screw it up, it will keep you on the force, and the mayor won't be able to demand your badge on a platter. Got it!"

Realizing the pointlessness of the conversation, he returns to the file's contents. Reading over the list, numerous ones catch his attention. The first on the top of the list is the multiple murder of a sheriff and his deputy, in Louisiana. Apparently she stole the sheriff's pistol and shot the sheriff and executed the deputy. That was dated three years ago, and she's been on the lamb ever since. A murderer, feminist, terrorist; hell even says she's a lesbian. What a combination, all before she was nineteen. Succumbing to an increasing curiosity, he flips mercilessly through the hundreds of reports over her past three years of criminal life. Eventually he comes across the numerous FBI attempts to apprehend her, all failed miserably. She always seemed to have the upper hand evading the police, and she always avoided direct confrontations. Furthermore, she seemed to have a strong cult-following protesting her innocence, which has kept her from serving any jail time.

As he flips to through the endless files sheets, a radio report catches his attention, launching him towards the helipad.

San Angeles

August 04, 2032

The ricochet of bullets pulls Faith out of her light slumber. The feeble screams for mercy are silenced with a final salvo of bullets. Springing up besides the door, she silently awaits the intruder. As the door slides away, a carbine rifle juts inside. A gritty-edged man, pokes inside, and meets eyes with her. In a scruffy voice, he mutters: "The prison's been taken over. You with or against us?"

The horror of over thirty years of cryo-stassis and endless nightmares of being thrown into a cell and forgotten, overwhelm her. "Gotta another gun?"

Wearily sighing, he lowers his guard a bit, and breathes a sigh of relief. Motioning for her to follow, "Nope, but we need a hand moving some of the other freshly thawed cons, and getting them clothed. The name's Quinn…Quentin Hyde." Shaking her hand, he continues. "The boss needs some of you there…" Pointing at five other convicts just thawed out, he motions to head off to his right. "…and the rest come with me."

Faith, not relishing her new alliance, and taking part in a prison escape, reluctantly heads with the group assigned to the moving of the newly thawed convicts. At least this was better than rotting away uselessly in cell, being tortured with old fifties commercials playing over the loud speaker. She'd been waiting in her cell all day for her parole hearing, which she found out was delayed until early tomorrow morning. Considering the recent turn of events, she didn't see much hope in that coming about either. She'd heard the name of the leader was a certain Simon Phoenix, who she'd too much about long before she was frozen: a real psycho case who got off in a big way with creating chaos and destruction. In her old days, she'd have shacked up with him in a heartbeat; but after her time with Angel and some serious jail-time, that was the last thing she wanted to do. If 'B' could hear me now, she'd be doing somersaults in her grave. I wonder who's the current slayer nowadays? Whisking down the corridors to the cryo-labs, she passes numerous half dead or frozen bodies. She slides to an abrupt halt when she suddenly sees a platinum haired visage, crunched up in the fetal position, shaking horribly from the cold. Stopping in her tracks, she bolts to a storage locker, and rips out a set of coveralls and begins dressing the young woman.

"Hey, the boss wasn't talking about them! They weren't on his priority list." Down the hall another prisoner motions for her to follow him.

"Well, you'd better get going then! I don't leave friends behind." She screams back at him.

Frustrated, he waves her away and resumes heading towards the main staging area. Despite buttoning up the coveralls, the woman still shivers madly, and grasps for anything warm. Faith gently clears the short locks of hair from her face, and softly speaks to the cold and scared woman.

"Kay. It's me, Faith. Can you hear me? Come on, I'm getting you out of here."

Scooping up the small five feet four inch form, she abandons her alliance with the prison takeover. Kicking open a door labeled EMERGENCY STAIRS, she trots up six flights and crashes into a sniveling rotund gentleman in a kimono. "OH PLEASE DON"T HURT ME! I'M JUST AN ASSISTANT! I don't even work in here! That lunatic Phoenix brought me here, and forced me to do those things!" he pleads desperately.

Taken back by his obvious sense of self-preservation, she steps back once, and gives him a bit of room. He seems to not realize that she's a convict, but soon his expression changes as he begins to notice her prison issued garments. "Well, that makes the two of us. I don't want to be a part of his crazy plan either. But if I don't get her to a warm, dry place, I don't think she'll make it. How do we get out of here?" Faith takes a chance that he is dumb enough to help her, in order to save his sorry butt.

A little flustered and terrified, he reluctantly looks left and right, and hears numerous convicts heading their way. "Uh, I think this way." Pointing to a service elevator.

Faith, weary of his trust, motions for him to go, and in minutes they are stepping out a rear service hatch into the clear crisp moonlight. A sudden shudder sends all three to the ground and the night's skies are lit with the orange glow from the exploding labs. When she looks up, her rotund ally is fleeing with a speed unseen from such a large person. Laughing at the sight of flailing fabrics and feet, she snaps her attention back to her unconscious friend. With precision tenderness, she uncannily evaluates the data. Shaking her head at the newly discovered knowledge, Faith scoops up her small friend once more and heads for cover, as the shrill of police sirens fill the air.

7 miles South of San Angeles

August 06, 2032

Careful not to disturb the wall of trash outside the abandoned gas station, Faith gingerly slides the fake wall aside and slips inside a hole in the wall of the building. Setting a large gym bag down beside her, she carefully returns the fake wall back to its original position. Satisfied with her handy work, she turns and locates the sleeping figure of Kayla. The young blonde lays motionless, even with Faith's noisy approach. Opening up the gym bag, she removes a plastic container of dehydrated food, and a five-gallon jug of water. Laying everything to one side, she returns her attention to her sleeping companion. Tugging the blanket away from her face, Faith is surprised to see the drowsy flutter of platinum eyelashes, as she slowly stirs. Faith's worried expression is replaced with a smile as Kayla's emerald eyes wearily meet hers. Faith reminds herself to breath and whispers, "Hey sleepy-head. I brought you some food and water. I won't give it high marks on taste, but it'll get you back on your feet; even if it's to run to the door, to dump your cookies."

She's rewarded with a light chuckle from her sluggish patient, which rouses her further. Struggling to raise herself on her elbows, Faith slides her arm underneath her to help her to sit upright. After a few fitful moments of obvious suffering, Kayla rests against the blistered cement wall and watches Faith struggle with reconstituting dinner. Her discomfort is soon forgotten as Faith argues with an old propane heater, and fights to keep her cool. Cursing under her breath, Faith wrenches with the rusty connections; and after a dozen minutes, she fires it up. The cool blue flame rockets three feet into the air, causing Faith and Kayla to lean backwards in surprise. A quiet moment passes; and after looking up at each other, laughter fills the darkening room.

Faith erupts from her sleep feeling the tension in her surroundings. As she considers dismissing it, she feels Kayla shift and tremble violently. Clutching her in her arms, she rides Kayla's epileptic-like fit, listening to her whimper out guttural pleas. Tears begin to stream from Faiths eyes as she deciphers the seething words and fathoms the meaning. After ten minutes, Kayla slips back into a more restful sleep and Faith reminisces on Kayla's fountain of vitality, years past. She was the only woman she knew that could catch up with her wild side, and then leave her in the dust. She was a man-hater, in those days, something Faith couldn't fully understand. At least not back then; now, she knew of the rape and murder of Kayla's girlfriend, had a lot to do with it. They had been together for five years, and she took it really hard. When she confronted the deputy, she discovered the Sheriff was protecting his son, the rapist. The Sheriff subsequently killed the deputy and tried to kill her; and in the struggle he was shot, instead. She was pinned with a double murder, and had nowhere to go. How fitting they should cross paths. The last thing Faith remembers is gently rocking Kayla in her arms before succumbing to sleep also.

Faith wakes to an empty bed, and bolts up to a crouched pose. Franticly looking around, she sees no signs or Kayla, and notices the fake wall partially ajar. Moving across the room, she plasters herself against the wall and covertly listens for any activity. As she slides out the door, she's surprised to bump into a hobbling Kayla. Faith grabs and keeps Kayla from falling over; and is further surprised by Kayla supporting herself with a pair of quickly constructed crutches. Smirking at a startled Faith, she purrs: "So n-not too bad for an in-valid, huh?"

Faith, breathing a little easier, takes a large breath and scolds Kayla. "You scared the crap out of me! Don't wander off like that." coming alongside her, she helps her back inside and into bed.

After another comedic episode of starting breakfast, the two huddle together and curse having taste buds. The thick bland paste is quickly washed down with water after each swallow. They chuckle and pass jokes, but a moment of silence eventually levels between them. Faith takes a deep breath and tries to end the somber pause, "So… I'm going back to the city to try and find anyone I might have known before I was frozen. Uh… do you want me to get you anything while I'm there?" Smiling, Kayla leans over and points at the simmering pot. "Find some real f-food, and I'll be a happy w-w-woman." Pausing for a moment, she continues carefully. "D-do you know who you're going to l-l-look for, now? You were g-going to find some Angel guy or his-s-s friends, yesterday. I take it that y-y-you weren't l-l-lucky, huh?"

Faith looks down at her plate, and sighs. "Yah, they weren't listed, and from what I found out, most are listed as dead. Angel… he wouldn't have been listed. It's complicated."

Kayla notices the intentional pause, and bites her lower lip. "Sorry, I d-d-didn't mean to pry. I… I was just wondering what your p-p-plan was now, that's all."

Faith's eyes widen as she comprehends what Kayla might be thinking. Reaching forward she clasps Kayla's trembling hands. "No… no. It's nothing like that. Well, not anymore at least." Shaking her head. "I'm not making sense… He had a knack at never having been on any 'list' or directory. He's adept at being unreachable by normal means. I went looking in the places he'd be known in, and I was told he had left a number of years ago when all of his kind could no longer live safely in San Angeles."

Kayla looks at her with a intense gaze, and ponders over Faith's words. "I'm m-more confused, n-now. Uhhh… who now?"

Faith lowers her gaze to the pale hands rested in her hold. Gently she massages them between her hands, and she traces with her eyes the delicate curves and creases of a reputed cop-killer. The fingernails, short with gnaw marks, desperately need an emery board put to them. She shakes her head, unable to comprehend the origins of that thought. She soaks up the visage of the dainty hands cradled within her callused fingers. Her eyes wander upwards and stumble over the thick scars imbedded along and above her wrists. The gruesome gashes pail when Faith treks upwards and stumbles over the dozens of round burn craters etched into inside of Kayla's right arm. Morbid shock creeps over her, and she loses count of the quantity and diameter of the scars. Her jaw hangs loosely as she notices a similar set on her other arm. Faith's tears splashing onto her hands surprise Kayla, oblivious to Faith's horror. She tears her hands free, tucks them into her armpits, clutches her chest, and looks away in shame.

Faith snaps out of her shock and locks her sights on the side of Kayla turned head. She reaches over and drags Kayla's head to meet her gaze. Painful green eyes slowly pull upwards to meet hers, and scream to be let go. Faith fights the fury and rage building within her, and she pushes out coherent speech. "Who… when?"

Shaking her head, Kayla dryly replies: "D-does it matter? They're d-dead. Everything from

b-back then, is d-d-dead. It's in the p-p-past. I… I don't w-w-want to d…" She leans over, concentrating on her tongue. "…dwell on the past." Gazing up at Faith's anguished expression, she leans over and buries her head, under Faith's chin, and wraps her arms around her. "P-please don't worry. Th… they're gone, now. We n-need to start making new lives f-for each other. But if you could… c-could you see if y-y-you could find someone h-h-who can do ac-u-punc-ture. I-I think I can start w-w-walking f-f-faster. I'm j-just able to move my toes, this morning, a-and that's an improvement over y-yesterday. K?"

Wearily, Faith nods and whispers, "I doubt I'll be so lucky, but I'll see what I can dig up. I have one last trump card to play, and it's wild one at that. I'm probably the last person she'll want to hear from, if she's still around. Just keep your fingers crossed… and your toes, if you can manage." Returning the hug, she helps Kayla get nestled in and is hiking back to the city by sunrise.

San Angeles

August 07, 2032

Strolling through the Bull Pen area, John Spartan strides into Lenina Huxley's office and plops himself on the corner of her desk. Hardly noticing his entrance, Lenina scours through the list of escaped cryo-prisoners, and shakes her head in disbelief. "I can't believe how many murder-death-killers were able to get out of that fiery inferno."

John, rubbing the bridge of his nose, sarcastically murmurs: "Thanks Lenina, and I got out safely too."

Ignorant of his intended sarcasm, Lenina continues, "All but four were coded, and two of those were picked up last night. That leaves only a Felix Marlow and one Kayla Meadows. Detective Spartan, wouldn't it be prudent to concentrate our efforts on capturing those who were coded, instead. I mean this will take countless tick tocks, and there are so many we can round up in the same time we spend trying to find these remaining two."

Fumbling with a Rubix cube, John sighs and tosses it into the chair next to him and looks at the computer screen. "Because these are the criminals that will be a real problem to find if we don't deal with them now. They're termites. Let one into your house, and you won't have a house for very long. Those who were coded can always be rounded up later, but these are the ones that we can't trace, and can do a whole lot of damage. Wait a second! What was the name of the second one, again?"

Lenina looks at John with skepticism. "Who… Felix?" Looking over the stream of listed escaped prisoners, she sputters between Felix and Kayla comparing their list of offenses.

Frustrated, he reaches down and pulls her hands from the keyboard, leaving the screen filled with the intense gaze of a platinum haired, green-eyed killer. "No, her. I've seen her before, I think before I went in the freezer."

Watching from a distance, Captain Zachary Lamb strolls over to the pair to add his two bits worth of info. "I don't see how, she wasn't apprehended until 2000 or 2001. She pretty much turned herself in too; she and another fugitive surrendered at the same time. Her trial was a media circus, and it was decided to have it in Los Angeles. There was no way she could get a fair trial anywhere near Louisiana, and the jurisdiction problems took two years to sort out. Even after she was convicted and frozen, her lawyers kept pushing the circumstantial evidence issue up until the big one hit. Then afterwards, no one really cared or was still around."

Lenina listens intently while John is trying to sort out why he recognizes her. Breaking the momentary silence she squeaks out, "Wow. That was her?"

Zachary nods his head, understanding, and finishes. "Yup. That's how come we have so much surveillance everywhere we go. Thanks to her, virtually everywhere we go in public is monitored and recorded. Her trial and tribulations are all on disk, if you want to look them over." The boom of John's fist striking the desk silences Zachary, making Lenina jump a few inches out of her seat. "That's it! The Feds. I was supposed to help them find her back in 96.' I was given her case file to help the Feds find her in L.A."

Zachary begins chuckling uncontrollably and stammers, "Ahh, you got fried… err chilled… and Deitrick and Malone were handed that case, instead. Boy did she have fun with them. They didn't wait for back up and tried to apprehend her by themselves. The Feds showed up ten minutes later…" He once again grips his stomach, trying to control his laughter. "… they found them handcuffed to each others wrists and ankles in a bed, and naked as jaybirds!"

Lenina, not quite comprehending all of the humorous elements, waits for either of them to regain their composure and stop laughing long enough to breathe. John, the first to catch his breath, wheezes out: "I wish I could have seen that! I never liked those idiots." He suddenly turns to a slightly serious demeanor and asks, "You mean she didn't kill them? That doesn't sound right."

With the humor suddenly bled dry, Zachary straightens up and nods in agreement. "That was mentioned in her trial, too; but the D.A. kept it suppressed until it was all over.

Lenina skims through the files, amazed at the quantity of failed attempts to arrest her. The most serious injuries she inflicted, to an officer or civilian, were gun shot wounds to the extremities, or broken bones. None of them were ever life threatening or really permanent damage. "Wow. They tried catching her over two hundred times, and she just walks in gives herself up one day. I think that thing you call a hunch is wiping off on me."

John stops for a moment, pondering the meaning of her words. "That's 'rubbing off' on you. Yah. Me too. If I remember right, I got the same feeling years ago, when I saw her file, but Phoenix got me a little side-tracked."

Zachary comes beside the two detectives and looms over them. "Yah know, things could have gone very different, had you taken the case instead of going after Phoenix. I bet you could have brought her in, or she might have even surrendered to you, thinking you would give her a fair shake. Most of the time cops would go in thinking 'shoot to kill' the cop-killer."

Mulling over his old friends words, John swallows dryly. "So, Detective Huxley, What does your new fine-tuned police hunches tell you to do?" He watches as she focuses intently on the screen, and he can almost swear he can see wisps of smoke snake out from her ears. Finally she replies,

"Well, if it's up to me…" She tries to sound a bit more confident and sits up straighter in her seat. "… I'd say find this Felix Marlow, first; then, concentrate all our efforts on finding Kayla. She seems a bit less wild and dangerous than Mr. Marlow. He was convicted of dozens of murders and assaults against women and children, and he wasn't even up for parole review until 2170. I think he'll be a serious threat to the public, more than this Kayla will be. How's that sound to you?"

Nodding his approval, he reaches over and slaps her shoulder. "Like a pro, Lenina Huxley, like a pro. We need to do research and get a profile for him, and try to narrow what his preferred victims are like, and lay a trap for him. This is the next skill a good cop hones, getting inside the head of the criminal."

After her morning trek, Faith buries her anxiety and reluctantly focuses her attention finding the apartment. Thanks to a helpful doorman, Faith travels up to the forth floor, strolls through the hallway, and stops at the door, in question. With a quick swipe across her brow to clear imaginary beads of sweat, she raps quickly on the door. Long moments pass, and as she prepares to try again, the door swings open and a lovely young blonde blocks the doorway. Taken back by her, Faith fumbles out a few words. "Uhhhh I was looking for Willow Rosenburg. The doorman Alex said she was in four eighty-six…" She shoots her eyes back and forth double checking the apartment number, and if she might have the wrong place.

The blonde puts up a warm smile, and says: "This is where. You got the right place." Over her shoulder she yells: "MOM. Your visitor is here." Turning to Faith, she motions to enter and moves aside. "Please, come in. Have a seat you must be exhausted from your travels."

Faith, a little confused, tries to explain, while entering. "I…. I think you have me confused with someone else. She didn't know I was coming, I never told…" She's cut off before she can finish. The young woman closes the door and shows Faith to the couch. "The name's Lacey!" Faith gingerly, accepts her hand, and tries once more to explain; but is cut off again. "She knew you were coming; I don't think she's quite prepared for who would show, that's all. I think she was expecting a complete stranger, not someone from her past." Looking at her oddly, She finishes shaking Lacey's hand introduces herself. "Faith. I don't see how she could have known I was coming, I just decided to come here this morning."

Laughing politely, Lacey smiles at her, and tries to explain slowly. "We knew. Can I get you something to drink, you look parched." Fighting all out confusion, Faith shakes it off, and asks, "Yah… How about a Bud Light, if you got it. Hell, any beer will do."

Lacey gets up and stops suddenly. Giggling, Lacey enters the kitchen and brings Faith a bluish-green concoction, which is far from what she was hoping or expecting. Lacey smiles and says, "Alcohol is illegal here. This will get your spirits up, without any inebriation. It actually tastes better than it looks. Just don't smell it. Anyways, I'll go see what's taking my mother, and you just relax. Take in some vid and sit back."

As Lacey turns to check on her mother, she halts suddenly and says, "Ah here you are."

Upon hearing this, Faith shoots out of her seat and turns to face an extremely aged Willow. Her hair, devoid of its radiant color of years ago, is cropped short and neat. Her complexion seemed extremely depleted when realized she shouldn't have been more than fifty-five. Walking from the bedroom following Willow, Tara strides in and smiles at Faith. Unaware of Willow's freezing shock at seeing the woman who, last time they exchanged words were of anger and violence, runs face first into Willow's back. Lacey quickly turns around to hide her face, and keep from embarrassing her mothers any further. Faith fidgets slightly and reconsiders the wisdom in coming to her for help.

"Look," Faith begins edging her way to the door, "maybe I should just see myself out. I don't want to intrude."

Lacey cuts off Faith's escape, smiling. "No intrusion here." Turning to Willow she burns her gaze into her. "Mommy Willow has to forgive the past, in order to move on. That's probably why she hasn't aged as gracefully as Mommy Tara has."

Willow, subduing her initial shock and rage, turns to see if Tara is all right and faces Faith. Willow knows the shame is smeared across her face, and can't bear to look her in the eyes. She lowers her head, and gray locks cascade forward like curtains closing around her eyes. Faith is tugged to either bolt for the door, or try an approach that would make Kayla proud of her. Burying her fear, she closes with Willow and stoops to look Willow in her eyes. Willow gingerly raises her head, and gasps lightly as Faith smiles reassuringly.

"I'm sorry Willow. I'm sorry for what I did back then. I don't expect you to forgive me, and I wouldn't be surprised if you never did. I know what I did, I'm not proud of who and what I was, but I am sorry I hurt so many people. I'm especially sorry that I hurt you and B. And…" Pausing to reopen the distance between them, and she decides the moment is approaching its apex. "Willow, I came here for help, I won't lie to you. I have a friend who might die if I don't find a way to help her. She won't say it, but I know it's true. And… you're the last person I can ask. But if you decide not to, I won't hold any grudges against you, because I know it's my fault that you won't." After a long silent moment, Faith wearily turns to leave.

Crossing the foyer past the reception desk, Detective Spartan pauses to listen to the over-stressed receptionist franticly trying to calm a worried young man. Even with his constant reassurances, the sniveling gentleman sobs uncontrollably and hangs up. Collapsing in his seat, the receptionist covers his head with his hands as the console erupts with another emergency fiber-op call. Whispering to the console to magically silence, he dreads answering the call. John decides to intervene and walks up behind the bent over clerk.

"Hey, uhh its Erwin isn't it? Why don't you just let the automated system get the calls, and answer them accordingly? It's a whole lot easier." Coming up behind the meek policeman, John pulls him upright in his seat and says: "If you need a break, I think they need some help down the hall getting the rounded up escapees into their cells?" Emphasizing the last part has the desired effect as Erwin sits himself up higher in his seat, attacks the flood of calls with renewed vigor. Striding away with a devious smirk on his face, John heads back into Detective Huxley's office, and plops into the comfortable chair besides her desk. As if on cue, Lenina spins the computer's screen around and motions for John to read. Before him are a short set of projected scenarios that Felix Marlow will most likely accomplish within a week. John had never been really impressed with what the police's Criminal Analysis and Profiling computer has ever said. Reluctantly, John removes his sunglasses and draws closer to the screen. Not surprisingly, CAP projects that Felix will resume his criminal ways within seven days of his escape, and proceeds to give the details of what his next victim will most likely resemble. As John begins to open his mouth to comment on the uselessness of their computer, Lenina stops him in his tracks, and types a new set of commands into the computer. Pausing in surprise, he patiently awaits the new profile laid before his eyes. As it's fed onto the screen, he tries to keep up with stream of data washing before of him. His demeanor shifts from frustration to focused glee. "YAH! Now that's a profile! Wait a minute, there's no way CAP could have come up with this intelligent report?" Interpreting her reaction, he continues reading her profile.

Lenina Huxley swivels in her chair, grinning to the world. She had worked all morning thinking about what Felix's motivations and drives would be focused to accomplishing, and she felt very confident of her work. John seemed to genuinely say the right thing at the right time when it came to encouraging her. She hated to admit it, but he was looking like an even better catch everyday! She figured that Felix would go into hiding and wouldn't resurface for a few weeks, if not a few months. CAP was right that he would eventually return to MDK and sexual assaults, but he had to develop a secure identity first, find food and shelter, and eventually his old life style. But without a good job, he wouldn't be able to buy the expensive clothes and valuables, which he used to have. He would steal and kill, to get those things, making hiding even more difficult as every day passed. He had only a basic education; therefore a high paying job was not available. He would eventually hear that the scraps would be allowed to register and receive ID implants, merely by proclaiming their identity. This is how he will disappear, and she figures will be their best chance on find a majority of the escaped cryo-cons, if not all.

But she didn't stop there; she went on to profile Kayla Meadows. Kayla, she figures, will either get a new ID, or will simply linger on the outskirts of the city. Venturing in to steal and pillage whenever it suited her, she would never actually put anyone in any real danger or harm; moreover, she might gain friends or accomplices who will help to conceal her whereabouts. She was an adept survivalist, who developed strong friendships easily, and protected those whom she called friends. Lenina sees this as her greatest weakness, which can be exploited, and thus they should let her run free for now, and concentrate their efforts on Felix. He will most likely harm others, and she will avoid all human contact. She actually believes she's living off the land, within twenty miles of the city's outer perimeter, probably in an abandoned building of some sort, and more than happy to be simply left alone. If anyone were to accidentally run across her, she's more likely to hide and relocate, than harm anyone.

John can't suppress his admiration for the young officer. "Lenina Huxley, I don't know how you do it, but you still find new ways to impress me! You wrote this? This is fantastic! Has the chief seen this yet?"

Coming down from her high, she shrugs her shoulders. "I don't know. I sent him a copy, but I haven't heard back from him yet. I imagine he's been really busy this morning. Well, is there anything I could have done better on?"

Skimming back over the profile, he's dumbfounded by the volume and quality of her work. "I'm not an expert on these things, but I can't see anything."

Just as he pauses to critique a minor point in the report, Erwin screams out in terror, and John jumps out of his seat to the foyer.

Willow, torn to stand her ground and let Faith walk out her life, instead opts to intercept Faith. Knowing all too well her daughter would never let her live the moment down, decides to try and mend the past. "I'm sorry Faith. I… I can't forget everything you've done. You really hurt Buffy, and the entire gang. We always wanted you to feel like one of the gang, but you always had that tough exterior which kept us miles apart." Shifting nervously, she finds the strength to continue. "Even though I know in my heart you've changed, I can't seem to get past all the memories buzzing through my thick skull. The past says that you haven't changed and this is one big trick, while everything else tells me I'm wrong and that you're right. I can't forget what happened in the past, but…" Willow swallows the remainder of her pride, in one dry gulp. "I… I can forgive. If you can forgive my pig-headedness, I can get over the past. Deal?" Wearily, she forces a grin out, opens her arms, and invites an embrace. Faith's jaw nearly drops open and she intertwines in Willow's arms. As they part, they both must wipe away the stray tears and recompose themselves.

For the rest of the morning, Willow and Tara take turns filling Faith in on the events which led to the infamous quake which remapped the entire western coast line, and finally ended Buffy's tenure as the Slayer. Faith had figured the quake wasn't a coincidence, and solemnly listens to the events as they unfolded. Tears are shed when she hears how Buffy sacrificed herself to keep one of the Dark Lords of Oblivion from entering this realm. Her death sealed the rift between the underworld and Earth, and the Apocalypse was once again averted. Giles took her passing the hardest, and became a recluse, while Xander moved up to Seattle and formed a construction company. "He has four kids, and comes to visit us once a year. He usually treks out to the cliffs to visit Buffy's grave, as with everyone else. Giles, passed away soon after Buffy's death, and left his store to us. We sold it not too long after that, when they decided to build San Angeles. We had our little miracle here," She reaches over and lightly squeezes Lacey's hand. "And we etched a new life here." As they continue reminiscing, Lacey turns the Fiber-Op screen on and scrolls through the two dozen various channels. She abruptly stops and franticly waves her arms in the air, grabbing everyone's attention.

All eyes turn to see Faith's image plastered across the video screen. After listening to a short description of her, the image is replaced with another face, followed by their listed offences and threat to the public. Willow reaches over and grasps Faith's hand and says, "You know what you have to do, right?"

Grimly, Faith nods and looks at the three women sitting around her. "I won't go back into some damn cell! I've got someone to take care of, and if they lock me up and throw away the key again, I don't know if I'll be able to live with myself knowing I let her down. Kayla's defenseless right now. She can't walk, or do much for herself. I can't do it. She's my responsibility." Getting up, Faith is determined to help her friend. Willow springs out of her chair, and catches Faith's arm. "Listen dummy. They can track you anywhere in the city. If you want to help her, you've got to clear your name, first. How about this: I escort you to the station, and Tara and Lacey, go help your friend. They can take some food, bandages, etc, and make sure she's okay. I promise I won't let anyone harm her, or anything." Faith's heart thunders inside her chest, and she fights the urge to run for safety. Pleading, Willow tightens her grip on Faith's arm, forcing her to acknowledge her. Faith suppresses her fears, and looks Willow in the eyes. "Promise me you won't let anyone take her in. She won't last a minute in a prison, and I owe her my life. I owe her even more than you can begin to imagine, so you must promise me this." Looking up to Tara and Lacey, she demands an answer. Willow thinks over what is asked and nods her approval. "I promise. I promise that they won't let anyone take her away. Lacey is a paramedic. She'll take good care of her. Okay?" Reluctantly, Faith agrees and palms an object into Lacey's hand, and whispers privately into her ear. As she gets up to leave, she says "Give it to her. She'll trust you more. She'll understand." Nodding, Lacey and Tara drive out of the city; while Willow, after having Faith change into a clean outfit, takes her to the police station.

The San Angeles Police Department, not as spectacular looking with only the glass 'A' still standing, was still impressive to the eye. After finding a parking spot, the duo strolls through the entrance and ask for directions from one of the many informative terminals. To Faith's surprise, they have numerous doors opened for them and are never stopped or interrogated. Looking over a helpful diagram in the main entrance hall, they quickly make their way to the 'Bull Pen' to speak to a detective on duty. Faith can't help to gawk at the fabulous interiors and layouts for a police station. Passing through a set of double doors they see a lone reception desk laid before them. A young police officer, approaching his wits end, calms an even more flustered citizen, on the other end of the fiber-op phone, a video phone-like device. Willow silently motions towards the bewildered desk sergeant, and they both head over to his tall desk counter. As they arrive, he's finishing his fiber-op call with the distraught citizen, and buries his head in his arms once the call is disconnected. Obviously unaware of the two women standing in front of his desk, he continues to lie dormant dreading the next call to come into his desk.

Willow looks to Faith, then back to the Desk Sergeant. Shrugging their shoulders, Willow clears her throat, loudly. The thunder of her rattling throat, tears him upright, startled. Shocked with the presence of the two women, he shuffles a folder around on his desk, and tugs at his shirt. Sitting up straighter, he finally gets a good look at the people before him. To his right, the elder lady, clad in a red, green, and orange striped sweater and baggy pants, gives him a meek smile. Returning the smile, he shifts his gaze to the shorter young lady to her right. Her long raven hair, draped over a flattering scarlet top and black trousers, shines radiantly in the pale light of the reception hall. Taken back by Faith's sweet smile, he stammers out his question incoherently. Pausing to catch both his breath and tongue, he slaps his jaw shut and swallows dryly. Rolling his eyes around inside the sockets searching for the means of simple speech, he resigns to try once again.

"HOW…" He stops to lower his tone drastically, and resumes. "How can I help you two ladies today?"

Willow insists on speaking for the two of them and immediately responds. "Well, it's a long story really. It all began this morning when my friend here, Faith, showed up at my domicile, asking for help."

Faith interjects immediately, by saying: "That's right, there was no way she could known I was coming to see her."

Willow nods in agreement, and her eyes widen momentarily. "Yah, that is right, sorta. We all were surprised when she showed up. And even more surprised when we saw her picture flashed up on the city bulletin channel, much later. You see, she didn't know you were looking for her until then, and of course she would have came here first, had she known. Isn't that right?"

Faith sighs heavily, and fights back the sarcastic grin screaming to wash over her. Instead it sneaks out in her words. "Oh, absolutely. Without a doubt." The sarcastic taint to her voice brings Willow's serious gaze upon her, and distracts her from continuing.

Erwin, still spinning from the last call, seems bewildered and confused by the two women. Shaking away his dizziness, he rubs the bridge of his nose and ponders whether helping downstairs with the jailers, wasn't a more favorable task at the moment. Resigning to get these to women on their way, and hopefully take a well-deserved break, he breaks up the rambling between the two. "LETS… lets get a name first, how does that sound?" Surprised by his sudden tone, Willow looks up him in bewilderment. "My name? I'm Willow Rosenburg." With a sigh, Erwin wearily begins typing Willow's name into his terminal, hoping by bringing up her profile it will shed some light on why they are standing in front of him. Before he can finish typing her first name, the elder woman interjects once more.

"BUT! But, you probably want her name, she's why we're here." Willow chimes, aware that the young man's patience is probably wearing extremely thin now.

With an even louder sigh, he backspaces out her name and turns to Faith for her name. As he types in 'Faith Lehane,' he half expects to find a list of traffic tickets or VMA violations. Shoot, they just might want to question her regarding something important. When her criminal record as a convicted MDK felon and cryo-prison escapee flashes before him, he's left speechless. As the blood drains from his face, so does any coherent thought. This is further demonstrated as he falls backwards out of his chair and screams mindlessly.

Amidst the screaming and chaos, Willow looks over to Faith and murmurs, "So… get this a lot when you travel?"

Faith shrugs her shoulders and replies, "Nah, just in police stations." Willow nods her head understandingly, and patiently awaits the swarms of police to descend upon them.

From Lenina's office, John crosses the distance to Erwin's side and looks at the two women standing harmlessly in front of the desk. Numerous officers, standing up from their desks, hesitate approaching the screaming officer. Only when John grips his shoulder, does he stop screaming. In a calming tone, John says: "Why don't you take a break, and I'll take these two on, okay?" Erwin, babbling incoherently, is led away. John strides up to the desk and clasps his hands together.

"Well, let's try this again."

Willow, chimes in immediately with her name, and turns to Faith. As she opens her mouth to reply, John cuts her off. "And you're the most wanted Faith. So… finally decided to haul yourself in huh? Wise move, or did she subdue you?" After motioning towards Willow, his sarcasm hangs on his final words, and Faith does a half smile. John looks around at the gawking crowd of cops, and motions for the duo to follow him to Lenina's office.

John looks down at his watch and notices he's overdue for a lunch break. After two hours going over her testimony of her escape, she still won't budge on one point: Kayla Meadow's whereabouts. Lenina strolls in, sits down across Willow, and ponders how these two could even be connected. She's snapped out of her deep thought when Faith suddenly shoots out of her seat and pushes it across the room. Willow quickly closes with the distraught woman, and gets her to sit back down. In an apologetic tone John tries to rephrase his last statement.

"Look. I'm not saying that if you don't tell us where she is, that we'll lock anyone up. On the most part, based on the preliminary psychological evaluation, the parole board gave a green light to your parole and I see no reason to dispute that. Furthermore, we have video of the prison break, and it clearly shows you had little to no active participation in the deaths of the sixty guards and technicians. I'm just saying that it's in both of your best interests that she brings herself in. She can easily come in like you did, or we can have an escort available to expedite things. I'm not in any position to grant her parole. In fact she wasn't up for another hundred and twenty years."

Faith's temper surges once again, bringing her out her chair and eye to eye to John's face. The fury and rage radiates between them, and Faith seethes: "SHE CAN'T WALK, MORON! SHE'S PARALYZED THANKS TO YOUR DAMN CRYO-PRISON! She's also covered in scars and burns on her arms and legs! She didn't have them before she went in, and there's no way she would have let anyone do that to her in general population. She would have had to been restrained. I know that as fact!" A low squawk from the VMA monitor kicks out a small piece of paper on the other side of the room. Lenina stands from her chair, and joins the battle of wills at the desk. "Look Faith! Why don't you and your friend here, step back and cool down, and we'll step out of the office to confer with our Chief. How does that sound?" Willow nods in agreement, and leads Faith to the other side of the office, while Lenina takes John out to the Bull Pen area, and closes the door behind her.

"Listen John, this condition she's describing is called hibernation sickness. It's not likely to clear itself up. It's not talked about much, for obvious reasons. Second, I accessed Kayla's medical examination files and photos, from when she was imprisoned, and they mention nothing of the scars, which she described." John, feeling that he was just lied to, pivots around to storm back in to call her a liar, only to get his arm hooked by Lenina, cutting him off entirely. She continues in a more direct tone.

"BUT… there is a examination file she had before she was frozen which describes in detail those very scars." John looks at her in a concerned expression and listens intently to what she says. "It's because of her that we have all aspects of the criminal trial process monitored. No one has a private moment, no questioning goes unrecorded, no one can talk to a suspect or prisoner, without it being logged and recorded. After she was frozen, a couple dozen officers at the state hospital were convicted of human rights violations over a twenty year period. If she wasn't frozen and there weren't a surplus of witnesses, she would have been thawed to give testimony. The burns and scars, which her files describe, are the same that other patients had who were patients at the facility. They tortured, raped, and almost killed numerous people there; and if she had half the spunk and attitude as Faith, it's most likely they weren't very nice to her. When she was released, she was noticeably reserved, and sedate. The D.A. said she was acting, but we know now that wasn't so. And one last note. Do you want to guess who the other inmate that surrendered herself with Kayla?"

As the information sorts itself out in his head, the connection flashes before his eyes. "Faith? No wonder she's defending her so much!" Lenina just nods her head, agreeing with him. "Well, I talked to the Chief already, and he wants her to tell us where Kayla is hiding, so we can pick her up, and to guarantee her parole; but, I don't think she'll nark on her friend. She'd rather rot away in a cell, than tell us, and she's not budging. What's she been trained to do, after her parole? I hope not another seamstress."

Lenina looks down to her hand computer, and skims through the file and replies: "Nope. She's been best suited for a paramedic. Wow. That's as tough of a job as a police officer, except messier. Good paying job too."

Mulling over the facts, though a bit jealous of her "being better suited" as a paramedic, John plots a devious plan, to please everyone. "Okay partner, what do you think about this? We work a deal that Faith is assigned as guardian to Kayla, and we simply visit her in home. She's temporarily restricted to where and when she can go only until it's determined she's no longer a menace to society. She was never a violent criminal, other than her initial conviction, and is now most likely unable to hurt anyone, anyway, right."

Skeptically, Lenina considers John's proposal and says: "Chief Earle will still have to agree to this, and it's not likely he will. Besides, why are you so interested in helping out a convicted police murderer?"

John dismisses her question by saying, "That's Cop-Killer. Look, her whole case stinks. I knew it when I saw it thirty-six years ago, and it still reeks. My hunch tells me, a lot of what happened on that night, isn't what really went down. There's not enough solid evidence, that you'd find linking her to the shooting. There's no mention of ballistics, forensics, photos reinforcing her presence; just explicit photos of dead cops, and verbal statements by one eyewitness, who's directly related to one of the slain officers. Her statement is exactly opposite of what the eyewitness said, and they believed his over hers. No evidence supported either one of their positions, and yet they convicted her. The D.A. and judge suppressed all of the evidence regarding the murder of her girlfriend, and that was the basis of her innocence. She thought she could get a more favorable trial out of state, and she was wrong. I'd be willing to wager that the dead cop had direct ties to the Feds, and they simply kept the hunt going."

Lenina shakes her head, trying to make sense of the twisting curves of the case in front of them. Crossing her arms, she looks away to the far side of the Bull Pen. Officer Santiago and Cummings struggle with one of the recently re-captured cryo-cons. She was just thinking that another officer should be helping them, but he eventually subsides long enough to escort him out of the Bull Pen area, and to their makeshift jail, down the hall. "I have to admit, after you've killed two cops, a few more, isn't going to make that much of a difference. And, it's not like she's never had an opportunity, either. In my book she had over two hundred opportunities, and never killed any of them."

John surmises he can convince the Chief to go along with his plan, so long as Lenina backs him up. "Let's go and run this by him." Lenina raises her hands up and shrugs, "Sure. I guess it wouldn't hurt to try."

Bringing the car to a halt, Tara cautiously eyes the abandoned gas station. The weeds, nearly twice as tall as Lacey, surround the small, faded white and green painted building. The station's lighted sign, buried under years of neglect and growth, rusts away amongst the vegetation. The huge plastic cover, nowhere in sight, probably was stolen or destroyed when it toppled down in the first place. Tara opens her door and follows Lacey out of the car and towards the side of the building. The thick vegetation, sharp needle vines draped across the wall, offers no opportunities for close inspection. Lacey absently tries to grasp the edges of the vines, only to discover they are interwoven with trash and debris. Tearing away her hand in pain, Lacey curses lightly under her breath, while Tara fights a snicker. The vines, covered in bristling sharp thorns, wear Lacey's blood with honor.

"You still do everything the hard way." Tara pops. Taking a short breath and exhaling it, she rapidly repeats:

"Forces of light,

Watcher of the garden,

Scatter our blight,

Unsnarl your partition,

Clear our hazard,

End the painful burden."

Before Lacey's eyes, the tangled web of weeds and vines, release their grip of the wall and surrounding debris, disappearing over the roof and behind the corner. In a matter of minutes, the entire wall is free of the foliage and reveals a rickety spring mattress skeleton. Even more shocking, is a lethal mantrap, set to swing upon anyone who unwisely attempted to move the rusty wall. Looking the trap over, Tara quickly finds the trip wire, and tosses a branch against the tiny string. With a loud whoosh of air, the arm with a pair of long, sharp spikes, imbed into the wall. The same wall Lacey had only minutes prior, had been carelessly standing in front of. Sucking in a gulp of air and swallowing, Lacey stares blankly at the spikes buried four inches into the concrete. Tara appears next to her ear and whispers: "See why I look, before I leap! You should have seen your face, you would have known what you look like undead."

Turning back towards the spring mattress, Tara carefully slides it away from the hole in the wall, and announces herself. "Hello? Kayla?" Shaking her head, Tara gingerly steps towards the opening, only to stop abruptly in her tracks. Looking over her shoulder, she feels Lacey pushing to follow her in. Reversing her direction, Tara guides Lacey back out with her. Gripping her shoulders, She looks Lacey in the eyes, and says: "You better let me do this alone. An old woman is far less threatening, than a strong young thing like you." As Lacey opens her mouth in protest, Tara silences her immediately. "I don't want to hear it! Stay here." Tara turns once again and squeezes through the small opening in the wall, alone.

Long moments pass as she lets her eyes adjust to the darkened room. Broad streams of light, from between the seams in the boarded windows, shoot from one side of the room to the opposite. Tara's vision quickly compensates for the new setting, and she gingerly steps further into the unknown. Straining to make out a human shape, she scans the room for any movement. Nothing seemed to be moving; even the air stood motionless, impeding her search. Beams of light, illuminating thick dusty air, blind her from clearly discerning the details of the room. Side-stepping along the wall she pokes her head down to get a better look at a deceptive pile of debris. As she approaches the junk pile, it suddenly shifts and extends a thin pointed stick. Tara freezes in her tracks, recognizing what the stick is connected to. All too familiar with vampire slaying, it hadn't been that many years since she had to use a crossbow. Discovering that her mouth had suddenly gone dry as cotton, she painfully tries to swallow.

"Uhh… Kayla? Uhh… F…. Faith sent me. Uhh… Us." Tara stammers cautiously and points to outside. A raspy voice responds from the pile.

"L… liar. She'd never t…tell anyone w… where I w… was at." The exhaustion and weariness in her voice confirms that they got here in the nick of time. Tara notices the tip of the arrow shaking erratically, and slowly digs a small object from her beige pants pocket. "She…" Producing in her outstretched hand, Tara offers a small paper flower, delicately folded, and somewhat crushed. "…she gave me this. And, she told me to say that she couldn't live without her Kryptonite? I don't think I fully understand it, but she figured you would."

Across the room, the mound of trash falls over revealing a semi-conscious Kayla. Rushing to her, Tara Screams: "LACEY! Get your kit! NOW!" Leaping to her side, Tara reaches her, as Kayla's head grotesquely cracks against the concrete floor.

What seems like an eternity passes for Faith. Detectives Spartan and Huxley had been gone for fifteen minutes discussing the terms of her parole to their chief, and they still were not back yet. She paced franticly, and Willow just sat calmly reading a book. She never understood how that nerdy girl just acted so calm and collected. A frustrated sigh escapes Willow's lips and she slaps the book closed. "Please sit down. It's not going to make anything go quicker."

Faith hisses an anxious sigh, and closes with the ever patient Willow. "How can you just sit there? They're only deciding mine and Kayla's futures!" When Faith spins around, she eyes a sudden movement in the corner of her eye. She focuses on the double doors across the room, as they fly open from a cop being thrown through them. Like perturbed hornet's nest, everything explodes to life! As numerous police jump out of their seats, the room floods with the previously jailed convicts. Grabbing the nearest object, they turn anything can get their hands onto, into an effective weapon and charge the wall of police. Out-numbered five to one, the untrained officers are easily knocked unconscious or thrown out of the way. As Willow turns to ask Faith what she was going to do, she realizes she's already flown through the door.

Leaping onto a desk, she catapults herself over the heads of the cops, planting her foot across the face of a surprised escapee. As he slumps to the ground, Faith presses her attacks against the leading edge of the mass. Alternating from her left to her right, she follows a parrying block with a solid kick to the rear, dropping a grimy skinhead who was planning to grab her. Within a minute, Faith finds herself having stand atop the unconscious bodies, in order to maintain her advantage. Feeling she might be putting herself into a trap, she catapults herself over the heads of two convicts, who try in vain to grab her as she passes. Landing firmly on a desk, she spins around to see the two, whom she flew over, already turned around and closing with her. She grins evilly, and launches herself into the two foul-mannered convicts; they double over in pain. After head bunting the first one, she plows her elbow into his companion's face. Picking herself off the floor, she drags the first one she head-butted to his feet. Not surprising, he can barely stand, and she simply lets him fall back onto the floor, clutching his head. Faith decides to survey the fight and choose her next target, when she's suddenly grasped from behind. A strong set of arms bind her arms to her sides, and she sees another escapee rapidly approaching, carrying an office chair like a baseball bat.

Detective Spartan, after pounding the sense into one prisoner, turns to see most of his work is almost done. Lenina is just cuffing the prisoner she was fighting, and numerous cops have managed to get the upper hand in their fights, as well. What he's most surprised to see, are the dozens of convicts lying unconscious near the far side of the room. He launches into action as he sees Faith pinned from behind by one really big bruiser. The guy seems to be almost twice as big as her, but the guy with the chair, seems to really make matters far worse. Eying a glow-rod from the floor, he swoops down, grabs it from the floor, and charges. Fifteen feet from her, he's amazed to watch Faith smash her foot across her captor's face, thereby releasing her at the last moment. The heavy metal chair smashes across his chest dropping him a heartbeat later. Shocked at what he did to his companion, he barely registers Faith planting a roundhouse kick to the back of his head; joining his unconscious companion on the floor. She registers the towering form of Detective Spartan approaching with a club, and she quickly raises her hands partially up in the air, in a pseudo-surrender pose. He seems to be taken back by her sudden change in stance and realizes how he's coming across with his glow-rod in hand. Motioning for her to drop her hands, he asks: "You alright? I thought you were a goner for a moment there."

Grinning, Faith brags: "Nah, didn't break a sweat or a nail… Five by Five." She smiles thinking that Kayla would be proud her, knowing she'd finally put all her martial arts training to good use for once. Grabbing the unconscious convict by the back of the shirt collar, she looks up to John with a huge smirk, and asks, "Where do I dump the trash?" Chuckling, John swings open a desk drawer and tosses her a wad of restraint cords, and shows her how to use them.

Within twenty minutes, the entire bunch is herded to the cells. Faith finds herself sitting alone in Detective Spartan's office with the stress-free Willow, casually working some knitting needles and yarn from her over-sized handbag. Faith, finally letting her anxiety get the best of her, leans over, and scolds Willow. "How can you just sit there and play with those needles… besides when were you ever the homebody with yarn and such?"

Ignoring her ranting, she replies without taking her eyes off her work. "I was too, a homebody type. Besides you wouldn't understand. It's an old person thing. When you're my age, you'll understand."

Sighing loudly, Faith leans back over, crosses her arms against her chest, and tries to relax. She turns in time to see Officers Spartan and Huxley, leaving their Chief's office and heading quickly towards them. The sour expressions on John's face, tells way too much to her. She'd heard of him in the papers, the "Demolition Man." Got jailed for taking the law into his own hands, and frozen like her; though back then she'd never imagined she'd wind up in the same frozen prison. He opens the door for the lithe Officer Huxley, and closes it firmly behind him. Taking their seats behind the desk, they open the terminal and clear their throats.

Officer Spartan begins. "Okay. We talked to our chief, and if it weren't for the unexpected turn of events this morning, I doubt he'd be very open to your parole conditions. But we had to add some terms that you have to agree to, before we can grant your full parole. But let's get to the specific points. First, the psyche board green-lighted your parole already, and there's no reason for us to change that. Next, under the new system, I've been assigned as your parole officer. You have to check in with me every week for 2 months, then once a month. Second. Officer Huxley has been assigned as Ms. Meadows Parole officer. She too must check in with her once a week, but for 6 months. But here's the clincher. Your paroles were granted as long as you agree to serve, temporarily, as a deputy."

Willow pauses from her needle and looks at the officers with a perplexed expression. "Uhh, excuse me. Isn't there like a law or something saying that anyone convicted of a felony, can't serve as a cop? I believe I read that once."

Raising his hands reassuringly, John continues. "Yes, I brought this to our Chief's attention as well. But, under unusual circumstances like this," John pauses thinking, that no one could have ever imagined the turn of events the city is in today. "…We can deputize individuals for public duty. Now a days, we can't be too choosy for whom we employ. Faith has unique skills, which the department has dire need of." Turning towards Faith, he continues. "We were all very impressed with your choices and performance out there, and we need someone to help our units to deal with real criminals, not the types they've had to counter up until now. You'll be granted limited authority, and you'll never have to operate by yourself. Actually, you'd be riding with Officer Huxley here. She's not the typical Officer, unfortunately; most cops here couldn't handle a simple purse-snatcher. She's picked up a lot, and is capable dealing with even dangerous criminals. This duty won't last long; just long enough to restore order and get everything back to working order. A month. Two tops. Then we're asking you to stick around to act as maybe a physical trainer, or something. We want you to teach the new recruits how to cope with dangerous types; you know, fighting techniques. Under those conditions, we're prepared to grant parole for both you and Ms. Meadows."

Faith shakes her head, forcing back her shock. "So, you're not interested about having Kay bring herself in?"

Lenina gingerly speaks up, before John can form the right words. "Well, he was, up until thirty minutes ago. Your friends, Tara and Lacey checked her into the hospital. Apparently she collapsed, and she's in the O.R. right now." She watches as Faith starts to rise from her chair, and rises up herself. With a reassuring hand she stops her and says: "Once we're done here, I'll drive you both there myself."

John, not realizing he too had risen from his chair, sits back down. "If you agree to the terms, we can end this now, and Ms. Huxley here, will take you."

Faith, disturbed by the news, tries to think clearly and mutters, "I have no problem with the checking in stuff, or the deputy dog duty. But I don't have the patience for teaching. Never had, never will." With thoughts of Kayla rushing through her head, she can barely think, let alone talk. "But, I do believe my Sensei would be." Smiling a bit, she realizes the simple beauty of her plan. "Yah, I think she would be."

Lenina asks enthusiastically, "Who is she? Where can we find her?" John Chuckles softly, guessing the answer.

Faith notices his amusement, and says: "Kay. She taught me most of the special moves you saw today. And if she can teach me, she can teach anyone. But that would be her decision; I won't speak for her. I'll agree to everything except that. She's not the same person I knew, before I was frozen. She's messed up. She can't walk, and her speech isn't the same anymore. If I were her, I wouldn't be very open to the idea of helping any of you all. But, I'm not her. She might be interested in teaching a few, and if she needs help, I'll help her. But I won't force her to, nor will I go against her wishes, at any time. Got it?"

John looks at Faith perplexed, on how and when she took control of the negotiation, and laughs it off. "Sure. I consider it a done deal, then." Standing up, he motions to follow him to the chief's office to sign a few papers, and Lenina quickly rushes the odd pair to the Hospital, soon afterwards.

Crawling through a deadly labyrinth of collapsed caves and sewer tunnels, Felix Marlow slides the last boulder out of his way; the crack and shudder of the boulder cascading down amongst other loose rocks echoes through the tight confines of the tunnel. With a flashlight, he searches the opened room for the source of his infernal calling. Through the eternity of cryo-sleep, his master summoned him, demanded his presence, cursed his name, forsake him, and then silence. The silence was far more disturbing to him; but it didn't last very long. Soon, the cursed silence was replaced with a dreary beckoning for aid and redemption. The helplessness of his master's tone and strength, tore at is very fiber.

When the opportunity arose for escape from his frozen prison, he wasted no time. Killing a young couple, as they sat having a quiet picnic, fulfilled his sick soul's needs for both food and pleasure. Not wasting too much time, he swapped the dead man's clothes for his, and grabbed the food basket for his continued flight. All day and night he sprinted towards the ruins of the once infamous Sunnydale. Once known as the murder capitol of the world, Sunnydale was destroyed during the last attempted invasion from a demonic realm. His master had everything planned out to the last detail, except how to counter the slayer and her band of witches and mortals. Felix could only see freeze frames of his mater's death, and even they were too disturbing to him.

Crawling through the hole, Felix falls face first down the rocky slope into the vast chasm of the void. His flashlight skitters and tumbles from his grasp, and slides dozens of feet from his fingertips. His free fall ends suddenly as his face mashes against a large boulder near the bottom of the pit, and he wraps himself around the immobile object. Gripping his face, Felix pulls himself up and stumbles over to his light. Wiping his face with his hand, he's surprised to discover that nothing is broken or torn open from his fall, except his pride. Getting his bearings, he shoots the light across the room and drops it as he screams in terror. The visage of pure and utter agony was etched into his memory for eternity, and he crumbles into a weeping mournful form. Before him, crucified against the farthest wall, hangs a burnt corpse of a humanoid winged monster, nearly nine feet tall. Seven long metal javelins, one through each of his arms and feet, one in each of it's outstretches wings, and the last one imbedded in its chest, pin the great beast to the cavern wall, resembling a science lab autopsy.

An agonized and weary voice fills his ears. At first he doesn't register it, but soon, he can't ignore it. It cuts into his pain and sorrow, and pulls him back to this world. The authoritative tone demands his attention, and he slowly silences his sobbing to acknowledge the awesome presence. Carefully, he mutters: "Master? Is that you?"

From inside his head, the voice scratches: "Felix… you're late… Too late, actually."

Felix begins blubbering mindlessly, begging for mercy and forgiveness, but is silenced once more.

"Felix! You can only redeem yourself, if you help me now, during my weakest hour. I sit on the threshold of eternal damnation, and the doorway to this world; they are extremely close here. You must open the gates of the underworld, so I can pass unhindered into yours. When you do, I'll be free to walk with you, and pass my graciousness upon you. Do this, and I'll make you my minion of destruction by blessing you with a fragment of my essence. Fail me, and I'll forever curse you with an eternity of suffering."

Felix praises continuously of his master's power and might, long after he sets out on his master's list of items to gather, and tasks to accomplish.

Waiting out in the O.R. waiting room, Tara, nervously flips through the newest issue of Fashionable Living; noting that the magazines were never accurate, and always out of date. Kayla had been in the Operating Room for over half an hour, and though she hardly knew the woman, she still was worried about her. She still couldn't understand why she was even concerned with anything regarding Faith, but her heart told her quite differently. It was something she just had to blindly accept; something Willow was still trying to swallow. They had bad blood between them from the past, but Tara prayed Willow would get past it. Hopefully, this would be what they had prophesized. Lacey had become adept at seeing into the future, but she was still too connected to the physical world, to truly excel at the craft. Her work as a paramedic, usually kept her from looking towards the mystical explanations and definitions of the world, to accept the unlikely and yet realities of the arcane arts. The mind inhibited the incredible wonders of the universe around her; kept her in denial of the endless possibilities. She was their only child; Lacey was still the light that bound them together. Their love had made her, and their love kept them whole. Tossing away the magazine, Tara resumes her lonely vigil

From across the hall, Lacey strides towards her; the seriousness of her expression tells Tara that at least Kayla wasn't dead, but definitely not in the best of shape. Standing, Tara adjusts her quilted shawl over her shoulders, and meets Lacey halfway. With a pitiful expression, Tara's eyes beg for any news. With a heavy sigh, Lacey begins.

"She's out of surgery, but still in intensive care. As I thought, her appendix had ruptured. It was probably due to her improper thawing, and the appendix went into cryogenic-necrosis. The digestive track is notorious for this, but never the appendix. Everyone is still amazed she's even alive, and even more amazed that it was the appendix. This usually can only happen to fully functional organs, and thus raises more questions. Oh well, at least she's out of the immediate danger. Now, they want to begin therapy ASAP on her legs, and see if they can coax the nerves and muscles to respond to each other. Where's mom and Faith?"

Tara looks down the hall, hoping to look up and see them coming, but only is disappointed. "I was told they'd tell her, but that's all. They couldn't tell me if she had been told or not, or when she might be told. They're being very difficult. What do you think I should do? Call them one more time?" Tara almost sounds as if she's begging for an answer, or a miracle.

Lacey ponders for a moment, and decides to push her weight around. "I'LL call them this time. I won't let them brush me off. I'll be back soon." Lacey hugs Tara, and rushes off to find a Fiber-op, and leaves Tara to sit, once again, all alone.

Tara catches herself nodding off, only to awaken suddenly by a small clamor towards the elevators. Getting up she notices someone raising her voice and a meek orderly moving to investigate the ruckus. As she crosses the hall she notices Willow desperately trying to calm down Faith, as the orderly politely keeps asking Faith to lower her voice more. As Willow is torn between answering the orderly's questions and calming down Faith, Tara approaches Faith and grasps her shoulders, pulling her attention from the obsessively polite orderly; the desperation in Faith's voice touches Tara. Locking her eyes into Faith's, Tara grabs her complete attention and is taken aback by Faith's bloodshot eyes. Telling her slowly in a calm soothing tone, she mews: "Kayla is fine. Her appendix ruptured, but she is doing better, now. They will let you see her soon. Everything is okay now."

Faith wearily asks: "She's okay?" Seeing Tara nodding and smiling modestly, finally drops her razor edge, and breathes slower. Tara gently guides Faith to the waiting area, while Willow reassures the staff that there won't be any more commotion or noise from them. After another five minutes of wrestling a set time when Faith can go see Kayla from the nurses, the doctor on duty arrives with Lacey and gives his approval to five minute visits. As Tara updates Faith on Kayla's condition, Willow tries to fill in Lacey with the events from the police station. The buzz continues long after Faith has been in to see Kayla, several times. She returns finally, grinning madly, and sinks down into the semi-comfortable couch, catching everyone's attention. Finally speaking Faith whispers: "She's awake!" Her huge grin, gives away her extreme enthusiasm, and glee. "She's feels like crap, wants to be let out of the hospital, disgusted that I made a deal with the cops to train them, says that I wimped out by giving in, and said she loved me. She's back to normal."

Willow cautiously asks: "So you're saying that she's as difficult as you use to be?" Faith shakes her head and laughs. "Nope. She's stubborn as hell; I've got nothing on her. Even back in my old days, she'd out do me in a heartbeat. That's never changed. Now, she's in worse shape with her legs, stuck in bed, on hospital food, and in pain. I feel sorry for the nurses, here. They're going to earn their money tonight! They'll be begging to get her out of here, by morning. Noon tops."

Tara nods her head knowingly, while Willow tries to fathom the depths of stubbornness. The idea that anyone can be more pig-headed and stubborn than Faith, just doesn't seem possible. As she tries to put the last few hours into perspective, their walk down memory lane is unexpectedly halted with the arrival of Officer Lenina Huxley. She adjusts her shirt as she notices everyone's attention turns to her. Clearing her throat, she looks down at Faith stretched out in the couch. "Uhh…Miss Lehane…"

Faith immediately stops her before she can finish her sentence. She never used nor liked her last name, and had no intentions of starting now. With a warm smile she finishes "Just Faith. I only go by Faith, got it? Ask either of these two what I use to go by and they'll tell you. It's just Faith! Of course I was a bit of a wild one then too, so I guess that's not very accurate any more. But I still only go by one name."

Surprised by her frankness, Lenina starts over one more time. "Okay, Faith? If it's okay with you, I'd like to run over some of the rules you'll be required to follow, and what I expect from you. Plus, I would like to take you to your apartment, and get you settled in there. It's only a few miles away, and you'll see the public transportation systems have seriously improved since you were walking the streets." Motioning towards the door, Faith nods reluctantly, and she asks Tara to let Kayla know where she went. "I know she'll worry if I didn't let her know where I took off to. Tell her I'll stop by after I get settled in my new place. Okay?"

Tara smiles warmly and says, "Sure, dear. If you want I can stick around until you show back up?" Tara really liked the person Faith had become, something beautiful seems to taken root in there, and it really changed her. What exactly, she wasn't one hundred percent sure, but she had her suspicions. Faith needed new friends, not old wounds reopened. Willow could try and hide her feelings, but Tara read her all too well.

Faith, taken back by Tara's proposal, replies: "No, you don't have to; she's a big girl. I'm sure even she wouldn't want to intrude on any of you. I just didn't want her to worry, that's all."

Tara, in a reassuring tone: "It's no bother, at all. Go ahead. I'll go in and let her know what's going on."

After a several times going back and forth, Faith reluctantly agrees to leave the hospital, and get settled into her apartment with Lenina. The drive takes only a few minutes, and her apartment is only across the street from Willow and Tara's. Getting off at the third floor, Lenina guides her up to the end of the hall, and opens the door. "These are reserved for new couples and police officers. Seeing that you'll be working for us, we saw fit that you should be settled in here; and if Ms. Meadows also signs on, she would also have received these quarters. So in a way, it pretty much guaranteed your stay here, one way or the other. As soon as she's released, she can move in here. We understand that she has special needs, but your expertise is gravely needed, as well. You wouldn't happen to have discussed the matter regarding her teaching combat techniques with her, by chance?"

Chuckling half-heartedly, Faith opens all the doors, and investigates every nook and cranny. Talking over her shoulder, she casually replies: "These sheets all that you've got here… floral patterns? I never could stand that. Yah, I mentioned it to her, but you have to understand she just got out of surgery, and woke up. That's not an easy thing to wake up to, if you know what I mean. Let her sleep on it tonight. She'll be more clear-headed in a few days. If I know her, she'll realize it's not as bad of a deal as she thinks it is. But right now, she's a little unresponsive to the judicial system, even though she denies it. So what do you think, did she kill those cops or not." Turning to see Lenina's expression, she tries to gage her reaction. She quickly closes with her waiting for a response. As she expected, Lenina can't answer the question truthfully, as she pushes the boundaries of personal space to its limits. She had noticed most people kept a minimum of twelve to sixteen inches apart at all times; so when she came within mere inches of colliding with her, it had the expected result.

Nervously, Lenina backs up a few feet, and stutters out, "She was tried, convicted, and served time. Whether or not she was released too early is irrelevant. As long as she's not a threat to anyone or herself, I see no point in confining her to some cold cell. She's paid a terrible price, and if she's willing to help people who need her, then society will be grateful. If not, that's up to her." Striding to the closet, she opens the doors to reveal several dozen sets of clothes on hangers. "I took the liberty of having your uniforms sent up here for you. There are six new uniforms, which were tailored to your measurements, from your files. If you send me Kayla's tastes in clothing, I can see what I can scrounge up from acquisitions, or I can show you how. I'll pick you up in the morning at seven-fifteen, and we'll go to work. Right now we're concentrating our efforts on locating the remaining escaped convicts from the Cryo-Prison. Most we've located or brought in already. Some we're letting them go until we can muster a team together to bring them in. That's where you come in. Your superior fighting techniques will prove invaluable. As we discovered with the infamous Simon Phoenix, his abilities to avoid capture brought our city to a stand still and nearly destroyed civilization, as we knew it. With you on our team, we have an extra ace in our hands."

Noticing she'd struck a chord in Officer Huxley, she decides now is not the time to play a tune or two. She found it hard at times to resist the desire to dive in and attack such an opportune target. Fighting back that urge, she turns back to the closet, and inspects the crisp black uniforms of the SAPD. If they fit as tightly as Lenina's, Kayla wouldn't have a problem with seeing her in uniform. She always loved Faith's leather pants, and crop-tops. Expecting that this society wasn't ready for the return of that fashion trend, she sighs with exaggerated regret. "I guess these clothes will do, but Kayla can't stand floral prints. If it has a flower on it, she'll burn it. As for the sheets, they'll do. Thanks. Thanks for the clothes and uniforms."

Lenina, surprised by the sudden melting of Faith's icy shell, relaxes a bit more. Shifting her stance, she decides to end the tour and be on her way. "Well, if you need anything," holding out her card, "just call me and I'll see what I can do. How's that?"

Faith looks the room over one more time, checking for any last minute items she might have missed, and takes the card. "Sure thing, Officer Huxley. I'll manage. One thing though, could you pick me up at the front of the hospital? I was planning to check up on Kayla right before I went to work. She'd really like that, you know?"

Opening the door, Lenina exits and turns. "Sure. I wouldn't mind. Seven fifteen it is. Good night… Faith." With a cordial smile and wave, Lenina Huxley departs, leaving Faith to her thoughts. Sighing with traces of strain and exhaustion, she wanders over into the bathroom. Running some bath water, she contemplates her questionable future. The future as the Slayer, her future as a part-time cop, and a future with Kayla; all these questions haunt her mind, as she sinks in the steaming rose perfumed sheets of the water.

Faith kicks the door of the small bar off its hinges; the wood and sheet metal menagerie falls to the floor making a hollow thud. Driven by an ominous sense of urgency, she searches the crowd of two or three dozen patrons for the source of the emergency. The patrons, not showing any concern or awareness or her entry, continue undisturbed to quietly chat and mingle amongst themselves. The bar, no larger than the Bronze, is very dimly lit and has the patrons fairly spread out. Passing the bartender near the front of the establishment, she gradually makes her way to the darker corners towards the back. Cutting through the center of the room, she runs into Lacey. As she starts to ask Lacey what she's doing, she looks down to see that she's dancing with a wheel chair. Confusion washes over her, only to be stopped when she sees Kayla in the arms of a small wiry gentleman. Surprised to see the two waltzing, she decides to investigate the matter further. Leaving Lacey behind to finish her two-step with the wheel chair, Faith pushes numerous patrons aside as they block her attempts to get to the waltzing pair. Running into a couple intent on blocking her, Faith rips the pair apart, flinging them out of each other's grasp. With her path cleared, she sees the tall fellow passionately nuzzling her neck; Kayla, resting her head against his shoulder, seems all too content for his loving embrace. As Faith's rage surges, she soon realizes that Kayla is being held several feet off the ground; her legs hang and swing uselessly in the air. Faith charges to reach them only to have additional couples impede her progress once again. With tears of rage and pain, she shoves the people left and right, tearing lovers out of each other's arms to reach Kayla. Tearing through the last pair, she finds the dance floor emptied. Desperately searching for any sign of Kayla, she eyes her sitting by herself in a darkened corner, mournfully slouched on the bench, with her hands resting in her lap. With her heart crashing endlessly in her chest, she races to her side and kneels next to her. She tries to speak, but nothing comes from her lips, so she gingerly scoops Kayla's chalky hands into hers; the fingers are like slender icicles, which could almost break if she were to let go. Panic sets in as she uses her other hand to lift Kayla's face up to look into her emerald eyes. Only when she stares into the empty glare, does a dreadful sense of knowing fully engross her. The once brilliantly virile green pools bear the resemblance of a murky lifeless pond. Looking down her pale cheeks, she sees two slow lines of blood trail down her throat. Turning Kayla's head, she clearly eyes the distinctive pair of puncture marks on her neck.

Screaming in agony, Faith splashes out of the tub, sending water in all directions. Standing in the middle of the bathroom, the cold air reminds her that she's awake, wet, and naked. Shaking off the remnants of her nightmare, she towels herself off. Changing into a white crew neck blouse and black pants, she looks at herself in the mirror. Telling herself out loud: "It was only a dream." She inspects her attire, and says finally: "I'm going to have to go shopping soon."

August 8, 2032

San Angeles (06:30am)

Striding down the corridors of the hospital, Faith whisks through the darkened halls preceded by the clop of her heavy black boots. The SAPD uniform gave her the desired effect, which her old leather pants and crop tops use to. At six-thirty in the morning, there was little to no activity in the wards. When she left Kayla last night, she was already wreaking havoc on the young nurses with her atrocious bed manners. She never liked having to be cared for or looked after; so with her bed ridden, she was simply awful. Faith had warned her to take it easy, but she only half-heartedly promised. As she rounds the corner to Kayla's room, she notices the unusually quiet demeanor of its occupant. Sticking her head through the doorway, she sees Kayla, wide awake staring out the window. Looking at her more closely, she sees she's really pouting and fuming about something. Trying not to laugh, Faith suppresses her smile, and gingerly raps against the frame, causing Kayla to whip her head towards her. Instantly the frown flips over to relief upon seeing Faith and beckons her to her side. "Th… thank God you're here!" Motioning her to embrace her, she shifts to look over her shoulder and out the door. "Y-y-y-you're here to r-r-r…rescue me, r-r-right!" Faith tries not to laugh in her face, but she can't tell whether she's serious or not. Deciding to side with caution, she treats Kayla as if she's serious. Clearing her throat, she fights off her grin and says: "No, Kay. I said I was coming here to see you before I went to work. Remember last night?"

Kayla shakes her head, and whispers, "Damn, d-do I r-r-remember last night. The w-w-w-worst night of my life… o-o-okay maybe not the worst, b-b-but I've never f-felt so hu…miliated. Everything was all f-fine and d-dandy until the l-last nurse left for the n-night, and they found the G-G-Gestapo Queen from h-hell! Sh-sh-she threatened to tie me up, and t-torture me! I tell y-you this place is-s-s evil!" Faith fights to maintain an even disposition, during the retelling of Kayla's night. "And you, of course you did nothing to instigate this, huh?" Looking around the room, she notices the nurse call buzzer has been torn from the wall, and the video remote is on the table across the room. Faith sits on the edge on the bed caressing Kayla's warm skin, the remnants of her nightmare yesterday, still crawling around in her head. Picking up Kayla's right hand she works and massages it with her fingers, the fear of feeling the icy appendages dissipates as she rubs and kneads Kayla's small warm hands. As Kayla continues to plead her total innocence of Faith's accusation, Faith just loses herself in the moment. The simple joy of having Kayla alive and at her side seems to make everything else seem obsolete and unimportant.

After several minutes of ranting, Kayla suddenly stops when she notices Faith's lack of interest in her plight. The pain in Faith's eyes, cause Kayla to stop mid-sentence, and scoop Faith's chin up and directly question her with a piercing gaze. "Is everything alright? Y-You okay?" Faith nods solemnly, and lets her breath slide out raggedly. "How soon till you can leave?" Kayla, not satisfied with Faith's response, holds her gaze and replies: "The d-doctor w-w-was saying y-yesterday that he w-wanted t-to keep me here a w-week, b-but I hoped all m-my en-deavors last night m-might have c-cut my time here sh-shorter than-n that. With them bringing in H-H-Helga, the N-Nazi concentration camp o-operator, I don't think th-that'll happen any-time soon. Especially, when sh-she volunteered to stick around to help the d-d-dayshift, take c-care of me. Doctor Young said he'd be around l-l-l-later and would l-l-let me know how the lab results c-came out, and only then would h-h-he consider releasing me. If things s-s-suddenly change, Tara volunteered y-y-yesterday to come and get me, if y-you weren't around. For someone who d-didn't have m-many friends, you have a lot of s-strangers who really like you. I'm scared t-t-to even think of anyone that m-might still be looking for m-my ass. I p-p-pissed off a lot of p-people, by not getting the ch-ch-chair, ya-a-a know?"

Faith once again reassures her companion by patting and rubbing her hand. She smiles and looks around. "I got a surprise for you. I found out something interesting last night, that will assure you that I won't be going around at night searching for the bastards who messed you up." Holding a crystal disk no larger than her hand, she places the item in Kayla's lap. "I hope it'll let you sleep a bit easier, knowing the people that did this to you (Faith gently rubs the area of Kayla's arm with the worst scars) didn't get away with what they did. You may have never testified, but apparently they did a full physical exam before you went into the mental ward and then right before you were frozen. They used your exam as direct evidence in the prosecution of two dozen state workers there. Some were even frozen, like you for their crimes. You see, you never entered general population in prison, and you were always in a private cell with twenty-four-seven monitoring because they feared you'd try to escape. They never deleted any of the video, so every minute of your stay in prison, was on video. So you never could have had the things done to you, except in the mental ward's care. They had nearly two hundred sworn testimonies against them, and they did wake up some prisoners to testify; but with your medical records, they sealed the cases. You stopped them, and put them away for good. I suspect you had a major effect on this place, even while we were asleep. Stuff they did, to keep what happened to you from happening ever again, still haunts the city. Read it. You'll get a kick out of it."

As Kayla motions for Faith to come closer, she freezes in mock terror, as a jingling of keys echoes from outside the door. Whispering lightly, Kayla says: "It's Helga Himmler… the SS Storm trooper." Faith breaks off their tender moment, to view the dreaded night nurse. From outside she hears: "Miss Meadows, I know you're just acting like you have a visitor, because visitors are forbidden before eight AM. And if you did…" Through the door, strolls a chunky blonde woman, in her mid thirties, with a set of keys dangling from her pocket. Bearing a smile and a clipboard, she turns the corner only to nearly jump out of her shoes upon seeing Faith. "Oh! Excuse me officer, I wasn't told you needed to speak with her. I can comeback…" Faith stops her. "No, its okay, I had to get going anyways." The nurse resumes her moderate smile and comes to the other side of Kayla. "This little girl here is just adorable. She knows how to throw a temper tantrum, though. But, I've had four kids far worse than her, so she's a push over." Kayla is surprisingly quiet now, and Faith doesn't overlook that either. Bending over to kiss her, she sucks on Kayla's bottom lip for a few moments, and tears herself away, before she makes herself really late. Looking up to see if the nurse's reaction, she's impressed when the nurse doesn't react negatively, to her blatant erotic kiss. Smiling she says to the nurse, "Take care of my little girl for me, she's my everything."

Straightening her posture, "Sure will dear. She's in the best of care, with me around." As Faith turns to leave she hears the nurse talking to Kayla. "Okay, honey. How did you sleep? Well, nurse Greta will is going to make everything so much better now…" The image of a woman her age talking cute to Kayla, is too hard to simply walk away from. Looking down at her watch, she sees that Lenina will be picking her up in five minutes, and her fun at Kayla's expense will have to wait.

Moving the heaviest boulders and sections of fallen wall had taken most of the night, even after constructing the numerous winches and frames, which his dead master spoke of. Felix's hard work was rewarded in the early dawn hours when he uncovered the forgotten severed hand of his scorched master. In the fatal battle, his master had lost his hand; and in the witches' rush to gather their dead and burn the demonic body, crucified to the wall, they had over looked that one item. That one item was all Felix needed to return his master from the dead, and regain his power on the Earth. Repeating that his master will rain his favors upon him and will forever praise blessing over him, Felix carefully wraps the severed limb in a scrap cloth and places it in an aged plastic grocery bag, for safekeeping. Deciding to lay down and rest for a few hours, Felix drifts into sleep, dreaming of the wealth and glory to befall him.

The Bull Pen was alive with activity, as Lenina and Faith cruised through the entrance. While Lenina tried to find John, Faith decided she'd try to find out what the clamor was all about. Coming up besides the Desk Sergeant, Faith leans over on the desk, startling him slightly. "Uh, Erwin isn't it?" Smiling, she lets him collect himself and he begins almost immediately. "I… I'm sorry about yesterday. I was having a pretty bad day." Faith laughs it off saying, "Don't worry about it, all of us have one of those. So, why all the madness this morning? Did someone swipe the Chief's jam off his bread, or what?"

Erwin looks around the area to see whose in earshot, and continues. "This is no small matter, Deputy Faith. Through the night, we've had dozens of assaults, and two MDK's just found at Citizen's Park. It's like it's the wrath of Simon Phoenix, all over again. The city is in a fever pitch of chaos and confusion, and yet our brave new Mayor Friendly is somehow telling us to enhance our calm. I don't think he realizes what the situation is."

Faith tries not to laugh in his face, and puts on her best serious expression. "I think we'll survive; it's not the end of the world. Who were the two people at the park?" As Erwin starts to fill her in, Detectives Spartan and Huxley swiftly approach, ending Faith's only chance at getting to the bottom of the murders. Trailing behind them, a tall Hispanic guy adjusts his uniform and places his glow-rod into its holster. Looking to be no more than twenty-five, he looks Faith over with a cursory glance and he seems to appreciate what he sees. Faith, noting his approach, blatantly observes his amorous stare, and smiles back at him. Not showing any embarrassment having been caught red-handed staring, he smiles back proudly. Dismissing his meager advance, she stands a little more erect, and addresses John.

"So, what's the plan? When do we go check out the crime scene and the bodies?" Faith confidently asks.

Smirking loudly, John shakes his head, chuckling, and counters, "Neither! You and officer Huxley here are going to check out a missing persons case, while Officer Hernandez and I check out the murder scene."

Lenina continues where John left off. "The Chief feels that their talents are best suited in that case, while we hone our talents in finding several people who have gone missing over night. It's just as important." Faith notices immediately Officer Hernandez's restrained smirk. Swallowing her pride, Faith surrenders the fight, and heads out with Lenina.

From what the thing Faith used to know as television had said last night, Mayor Friendly had abolished a number of laws yesterday, and the first to go was Prohibition. It was now legal to drink beer… if anyone had any, that is. There were a number of breweries wanting to move in, but Taco Bell was trying to corner the market. The mayor even threatened to bring an anti-trust suit against them if they didn't back off on the private ownership of some of the shops, which want to start selling alcohol and bar snacks. Also, the mayor repealed the Nutritional Protection Act of 2012; which now means that spicy and junk food are also legal. Faith smiles and thinks: "Cool! Hot wings and beer, here we come!"

Pulling her self out of last night's history lesson, she turns to Lenina and asks: "So, Officer Huxley, I've got a question. Are you and Officer Spartan a thing, or what? You two dance around each other like you're hot for each other, but you don't seem to pass glances like normal people?"

Lenina bites her lower lip, pondering how to describe their new relationship. "Well, we're discovering our limitations, right now. The newness is beginning to wear off, and we're not rushing into something, that could be larger than the two of us." Faith lets a silence pass between them before replying. "So, what you're saying is that things have cooled off between you two, and you're having second thoughts about him, now?" Lenina grimaces and nods in agreement. Faith ponders carefully how she words her next question, she wants to help Kayla, but if she tries too hard, it might have the reverse effect. "So, have you tried to talk to Kayla yet, seeing that you're her new parole officer?"

Lenina had been dreading this; the idea that she had to monitor another person's life and habits, didn't seem right to her. "How does Kayla feel about it? You must have an idea how she'll react. Is she going to be vindictive? Ill-tempered? Rude? Or is she just going to act oblivious to what I say? I don't want to come down hard on her making demands and be overbearing; but I do have a job to do. If she's not out to cause trouble or be a problem, I'll have no reason to get in her business. As far as I'm concerned, she's got enough to deal with, without having me bothering her every waking moment."

Faith laughs, and removes her sunglasses to rub the bridge of her nose. "Hey, that's a great speech, but you don't need to be giving it to me. Look, from the way I see it, you shouldn't be taking advice from me! I'm one of your parolees, remember? But, if you're asking me as the resident expert on what goes on in Kayla's head, all I can tell you is that she'll respect you more if you layout the ground rules fairly, right away, and she doesn't have to guess what you might be hounding her for. She doesn't like cops, she doesn't like guys, and I suspect she doesn't like anyone in an authority position. From what I found out in the history archives last night, looks like Kayla had made a real impact here. But because what happened to her in the state ward, I don't know what effect that's had with her, other than just her speech. I'm not joking that she didn't have speech problems before she was jailed. She talked me to turn myself in with her. She had a lot more to lose than me, and yet she still came in with me. And now, she lost not only part of her speech, but now she can't walk. So if she has little resentment, anger and hatred, you figure? From what the doctor said last night, she almost didn't make it, if it weren't for the two who went for her. I sent them out there just to check up on her, and they arrived in the nick of time, and brought her to the hospital." Faith decides to hold back declaring how much she feels responsible for Kayla's current condition. The truth gnaws at her guts, and she swallows harshly to keep the bile down. Sliding her glasses back on, she looks forward solemnly.

Lenina brings the police cruiser to an address belonging to a quaint establishment, supposedly a bar. Faith wouldn't refer to it being a bar, only able to sell pre-packaged tofu treats and natural fruit bars. The florescent red sign reads boisterously: Taffy's. Hardly a place that could draw the lines of crowds she's use to seeing, but of course this was hardly the city she'd be caught dead in, either. They both exit the car and head towards the front doors, the red and green glass sheets scream for attention. At night, the lights from inside would send red and green beams shooting into the street. Lenina leads the way to doors, only to find them locked. Faith immediately notices the surprise flash across her face, as she tries once more; the door once again denies entry. Faith leans into the glass, only to suddenly pull away as a tall shape appears to unlock the doors, from inside.

The glass doors swing open and a tall blond gentleman, easily his mid thirties, stands before them. With his short hair tossed to the right, his features resemble more of a Swedish ski instructor, than the owner of a tacky fruit bar. Faith is surprised to discover that she's not the only one drooling at his sharp edged features; the fashionable Asian robes, seemed firmly embedded into the city's culture and atmosphere. Smoothly, he cracks a smile and greets Lenina in the typical circular hand motion, which Faith had become accustomed to seeing. "Hello Officer Huxley, I wasn't expecting you so early. I had just got the call from your department thirty minutes ago, and I figured you wouldn't be able to come by until the afternoon."

Lenina sighs and says, "Well, have to get an early start around here. Early crow gets the meal."

Faith snickers slightly, but the "Ski Instructor," doesn't try to hide his amusement. "That's Early bird, gets the worm." He seems really amused by Lenina's mistake, and enjoys watching her act surprised by his correction. Lenina looks at him suspiciously, "You sure? I would have sworn I said it right."

Faith notices his lack of European accent, thereby blowing away her Swedish lineage theory. Shaking her head she smiles and says: "Sorry girl, but he's got one on yah. It's Early Bird and worm."

Lenina shrugs her shoulders and surrenders. "Huh. Learn something new every day. Well," Looking at their instructor. "I take it you're Mr. Eiglestraum, the owner?"

He smiles widely and nods. "Yes, that would be me. I'm the one who called in the missing person report. She was a good friend of my sister and I, and she disappeared between ten-thirty and ten-fifty last night. I called her roommate at eleven o'clock and she hadn't seen her. She lives only five minutes from here; and I went out looking for her until nearly three-thirty this morning, but I found no signs of her."

Lenina quickly jots down the info on a scratch pad, as he explains the previous night's events, in lengthy detail. As Lenina listens to his story, Faith decides to wander to the back alley. Memories surge before her. Memories of a vampire patrol, gone badly. She knew in her heart she'd be patrolling once again, but she never imagined the anxiety she'd have to face. The after image of the Mayor's assistant, stares back at from the shadows. His lifeless form is sprawled against the front of a garbage pile, shocked in disbelief of his sudden death. As Faith's eyes lower from his terminal gaze, a bright colored object pulls her from the morbid mind-trip. Crouching down, she notices a pink high-heeled shoe, conspicuously hidden behind a dumpster's rear wheel. Squinting, she gets up and heads towards the back of the metal bin. With a strong tug, the bin slides away from the wall, and a dingy manhole cover is revealed a foot from the unsoiled shoe.

"Mr. Eiglestraum! What kind of shoes was she wearing?" Faith calls out. She patiently waits for his reply, and maneuvers the trash bin completely to the opposite side of the alley's walls.

Moments later after she repositions the bin, Lenina and Mr. Eiglestraum turn the corner to investigate Faith's handy work. Almost immediately he exclaims: "That's hers! That's the exact shoe she was wearing last night! They matched her outfit she was wearing, when she left." Faith nods, not surprised by his revelation. Under her breath she mutters, "Some things never change." To Lenina she asks, "That cover leads to the sewers?"

Lenina grimaces and replies, "Not really. Eventually, yes. But it goes through the old buried portions of the city. They didn't demolish everything; they just covered it up, and built directly on top of the original city. It was quicker and cheaper."

Faith looks at her in complete surprise, realizing that the underground denizens now had a city and a sewer to hide in. Shaking her head once more, she whispers to herself, "Now that's fucked up." Surprisingly, Mr. Eiglestraum gives her a humorous smile; while Lenina, who was just out of range, asks: "What was that?" Faith shakes her head and replies, "Nothing."

Lenina looks over the cover's control panel, and shrugs her shoulders. "She couldn't have gone through there, the panel indicates it's broken. Would have taken Superman to pry the handles open. As she looks around for another cover, Faith moves to the panel and looks it over. The observant Mr. Eiglestraum stands back to watch Faith crouch before the cover. Showing great interest in Faith, he averts his attention only momentarily from her, to see where Officer Huxley had wandered. When he looks again, he's shocked to see Faith grab a hold of the two handles and effortlessly pry them apart. A loud creak shudders through the air, and Faith grasps the second set. Just as effortlessly, Faith pries the handles, releasing a growling creek and groan. The cover easily pulls away from its mounts and she tosses it aside. Faith looks up to see the muscular Mr. Eiglestraum looking at her in amazement. Swallowing, she clears her throat. "Must have been made to look like it was broken, so that no one would have tried to use it." Obviously not buying her purposely broken theory, he says: "Yah. Okay, broken." Calling out, Faith says: "Hey, Lenina! Come over here."

Lenina strolls back to where she left the two and is shocked to see the cover lying off to one side, free from its hole. Looking at the bewildered duo she looks at each of them for an explanation. Mr. Eiglestraum deflects her inquiry by saying, "Don't look at me! She's the one with the super-strength." Faith laughs it off. "It was nothing. Probably was loose already. Well, are we going down, or just stand around staring at each other?"

Lenina stops Faith, and tells her to wait while she returns to their car. Faith looks around the area for any more clues she might have missed, and Mr. Eiglestraum declares that he should return to his shop. When Lenina returns, she's toting a pair of heavy-duty flashlights and another glow-rod. Tossing Faith the glow-rod, she checks hers and turns the flashlights on. As faith descends the ladder, she can't help feeling the old flame burn inside of her; the thrill of the hunt squirms just under her skin.

Pulling herself up, Kayla bites her tongue as Nurse Greta turns and leaves from her room. Ever since Faith had left, the diabolical nurse had ceremoniously poked and prodded her for countless tests. After an hour of the painful procedures, Nurse Greta finally left to prepare for her physical therapy. A bizarre feeling wraps itself around her, as she finds herself chillingly alone and distant from the world. As she tries to grab a hold of her runaway emotions, she sees her safe hospital bed replaced with a steel examination table. Lifting her head up, she looks down to her hands and sees them tightly bound to the table, as well as her feet. Uselessly struggling, she tries to pry her hands from the tight leather shackles, only to find them snuggly tightened to her wrists. Franticly pulling at her wrist and ankle restraints, she freezes in terror as the padded door swings wide open; the sneering orderly enters, followed by a female nurse, carrying a metal briefcase. In silent horror, she watches the pair takes positions on either side of her. The grizzled orderly, Danny, takes pleasure in roughly groping her; while the nurse, Amy Landers, casually sets the case down on a stool and removes numerous objects. Danny, frustrated with Kayla's gown, unsheathes his Serrated Knife and sadistically shreds the gown; purposely leaving small nicks across her body. Enjoying Danny's display of knife handling, she stops him as he leans onto Kayla to relieve his animal desires. Half angered by her restraint, he looks at the objects in her hands, and smiles menacingly. Kayla looks at Amy, and tries to suppress the fear rushing through her. The long metal cylinder, no more than an inch wide and 10 inches long, resembles a metal stake with rubber insulation on the last five inches. In the aft end of the pointed object, a long electrical wire is connected to the brief case; Danny takes the stake from her, and marvels at its construction.

Kayla resumes her frantic struggle to free herself from her restraints, to the obvious enjoyment of the two. As she pulls and tugs at the shackles, Amy removes an electrical plug and connects it to the wall. Laughing at Kayla's hapless struggle, Amy clips another wire from the case to the stainless steel table itself. Finally, Amy pulls out a remote from the case, and watches Kayla struggle for another minute. Danny, eager to start, looks to Amy and asks, "Where today?" In a dispassionate tone, Amy wanders up to Kayla's arms and inspects the dozens of burn marks up and down each arm, and across her chest. "Well, these still need to heal more. We'll just have to utilize her lower body, tonight; the doc feels her attitude still needs improving. Looking her crotch over, clinically, she continues. "This will do." Turning around she turns on the power inside the case, causing it hum and the remote to illuminate. Opening a bottle of water, she pours it over Kayla's lower body and backs away, leaving Danny to sodomize her with the metal spike. Tears well and pour from Kayla as Amy periodically hits a button, shooting electricity through her. She bucks and convulses uncontrollably, screaming and wailing. Hours pass, as she's electrocuted and raped. Just when she's liberated from the abuse with unconsciousness, she's sadistically woken to finish the "Attitude Re-adjustment Therapy."

Tara had taken it upon herself to visit Faith's friend Kayla. She felt that Kayla, an extreme loner, not unlike like Faith in the past, was difficult to understand. Very few people knew how relate to a wild child like Faith, but it was because she screamed lone wolf, which Tara understood as a sign of great need. The harder they pushed people away, meant to her, that they needed someone to get closer; a tough barrier to overcome, so that she didn't have to face herself. Tara wasn't easily discouraged, and Kayla was someone she felt needed as many friends as possible. Approaching Kayla's room, she sees the nurse leave and stops at the nurse's station to ask if visitors were allowed. After a few minutes, no one can locate the nurse in charge of Kayla, and decides its okay. Tara quietly enters, and sees Kayla resting. Figuring she needs her rest, Tara turns to leave, only to stop in her tracks as she hears Kayla crying. As she closes with the sleeping woman, she goes to the opposite side of the bed to look Kayla in the face. To her surprise, she realizes that Kayla is fast asleep, and under the spell of some terrible nightmare. Her heart wrenches as she strains to hear Kayla's sleepy pleas of mercy, and traumatic spells of shaking. She leans over and scoops her into her arms and soothingly whispers words of comfort and safety. Kayla sobbed uncontrollably, long after she woke up in Tara's maternal embrace.

When Faith reaches the bottom of the stairs, Lenina motions towards the corridor before them. Shooting the beams into the darkness, they slowly make their way towards an intersection. Looking left and right, they notice a set of tracks angling off to the right, then a second set going to the left, from the right. Fairly certain of their direction, Lenina leads Faith towards the right and a long silent march begins. With no branches off of the corridor, Faith thinks that these stretches of corridor beat the dank smelly stretches of sewers under Sunnydale, any day of the week. After fifteen minutes of walking, they finally notice a sudden change in their trek. The dusty mildew laden air suddenly bears a thick rotting meat smell. Lenina pulls a handkerchief out of her pocket, while Faith chooses to ignore it for now. They choose to continue forward, despite the increasing stench of death, yet find no evidence of the source of the smell. After half an hour had passed since they began this journey, enduring the mounting anxiety and sourly rotten air, they come to a shattered brick wall. Peering inside, the lights point out a number of doors and a centered hallway. The stench seems to emanate from inside the room, and tentatively, Faith opts to enter first. The breach in the wall barely lets Faith pass sideways through, no more than 20 inches at its widest.

Extending her senses, she tries to feel around the area for anything unusual, but the stench is over-powering. As she glides the lamp across the room, the outline of numerous pipes and conduits line the walls. Faith concentrates on finding the source of the stench, and approaches the nearest door to her right. Scrutinizing the exterior, the door has numerous gouges; seemingly made by claws of some sort. She looks closer at the latch, a simple brace bar pins the door shut. As she reaches to touch the handle to test its movement, Lenina slips on a pile of trash just inside the breach. Lenina gulps, spasms, and rockets up from the floor in panic. Faith looks to see the reason for Lenina's panicked rise, to see the pile of trash, was nothing of the sort. Bringing her light to bear, her head spins as she realizes the trash piles are large piles of broken and gnawed-over bones. Counting twenty-two piles, she starts putting the facts together and sees the handle of a door, slowly rise by itself and release the creatures within. Scurrying out of its cell, a tall furry creature rushes out towards the two officers. Its arms, almost too long for its body, aid in its approach. The razor sharp claws scrape and click against the cement floor, and it drools anticipating the meals before it. Immediately Faith scoops up a short length of pipe and hurls it at the fearsome man-beast, focusing its attention away from Lenina. Faith screams, "GET OUT LENINA! HURRY, NOW!" Lenina hesitates as the creature ignores her and rushes Faith. Just as it leaps to pin Faith, she sidesteps out of the way, resulting in it colliding into the wall behind her. It yelps in pain, and Faith removes her Glow-Rod and leaps onto him, bring the glow-rod across his forehead. It collapses immediately, and Faith starts to relax, but a noise behind her delays that thought. Three more cell doors are wide open and the demonic creatures snarl at her defiantly. Faith screams to Lenina once more. "GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!" Lenina doesn't hesitate this time, and Faith is facing off against two of the beasts. The third leapt to grasp Lenina, but fortunately she was a bit quicker, and squeezed through moments before. As it flails and lashes out trying to grab a piece of her, it inadvertently wedges itself into the small gash of an opening. Hopelessly pinned, it now seals the opening preventing Faith's escape.

As Lenina dives to safety, Faith meets her two opponents head on. The first creature leaps towards Faith, only to have a heavy boot smash across the side of its face, sending it rearing to a corner to recover. The second creature, hesitates long enough to see its companion scurry to a corner shaking off its facial wound, and tries to overwhelm Faith by trying to ram her. Faith hadn't expected this tactic, and thus is dragged into the very section of wall she'd sent their very first creature. Her back screams in agony, and she feels a sharp pain and crack resonate through her. As the creature rips and tears at her shirt, she regains her senses, and thinks to use the Glow-Rod, only to find she'd dropped it. Switching her tactics, she concentrates a solid punch to the creature's neck, causing it to stop momentarily. With it suddenly pausing, she retakes the initiative and presses on with a series of blows and kicks to his center of body. Each blow seems to keep the creature off centered and unbalanced, allowing her to plow in another blow, after the one before. After each hit, she registers the cracking a bone within its chest or body; it can no longer concentrate on attacking, as she keeps it thinking about the pain she's delivering. Blood coats her hands and boots, as she pulverizes her opponent; while behind her, the cowering creature eyes the weapon she'd used on one of his kind. Carefully it reaches out and touches the club, prodding and gingerly probing the rod. As his courage increases, Faith pins the creature's companion below her, and with a powerful twist, she snaps its neck. Looking towards her exit, she sees the hind end of a creature blocking the hole. It struggles uselessly against the walls restraining it, and Faith decides she should take matters into her own hands. Realizing that it was obviously trying to get at Lenina, Faith takes a step or two backwards, and grins evilly. Like a football kicker, she takes a few quick strides and plants her foot viciously between its legs.

Lenina had been trying to get a good hit on her pursuer, but its long arms with razor claws, kept her distant. Every time she'd lean forwards to strike him with her Glow-Rod, he'd resume his flailing arm attack, and only miss her by inches. This had gone on for nearly three minutes, until suddenly its demeanor drastically changed. Without warning, its lethal edge suddenly drained away; and it whined mournfully and dropped its arms defeated. Not waiting for it to resume its aggressive nature, Lenina seizes the moment and raps the Glow-Rod against its head. It passes out, thankful for the end of its pain. More confused than happy about her success, Lenina carefully approaches it and peers inside, to see Faith just on the other side of the tear in the wall. Quickly with one combined push and pull, the creature is pulled free of the opening, just as the final beast has mustered enough courage to grasp the edges of Faith's lost Glow-Rod, and start handling it. As Faith turns to deal with the last one, she smells an unfamiliar stench above the rotting corpses around her, and she remembers her aching back. Not feeling too bad off, after having thought she broke a bone or something from being smashed into the wall, she shifts and moves, without any pain from her back. Slightly relieved that she hasn't any broken bones, she turns to the wall she'd been rammed into. Above the snarling beast with her Glow-Rod in its hand, a natural gas line hisses obscenely. Catapulting herself back through the hole, she barely has time to grab Lenina and throw her towards the exit before the creature figures out how to toggle the Glow-Rod. The resulting explosion blasts the pair like rag dolls down the long empty corridor.

August 8, 2032

San Angeles, (6:20pm)

Faith is the first to crawl out a manhole cover, closer than where they'd entered. Looking around, she sees a flurry of emergency vehicles buzz by, narrowly missing her. A minute passes before she climbs out, and assists Lenina in her ascent. The two, covered in dirt and grime from head to toe, look around half-dazed at the spectacle erupting a few hundred yards away. Shoving the cover back into place, they make their way towards the destination of the all the fire trucks. After five minutes, they arrive at the scene of a raging fire engulfing three buildings, too close to where the basement the creatures were caged. As they exchange glances, two of the buildings collapse upon themselves, send ashes and smoke in all directions. They are immediately stopped by a paramedic team and ushered into an ambulance. Lenina seems worse off, to Faith, and she insists they look at her first. Lacey arrives and tells the paramedic to look at Lenina, while she looks at Faith. Gingerly opening the front of Faith's shirt, she gasps at the dozens of slashes and tears across her neck and chest from the creatures. Pouring out the contents of a bottle into a plastic dish with gauss pads, she gently pats the bleeding areas with the soaked cloth. In no time, the areas reveal most of the wounds had sealed, and in advanced stages of healing. Lacey leans over and whispers to Faith, "I never thought they were serious. You really are a slayer; super-strength and healing Slayer!"

Their brief interlude is cancelled, as Chief Earle and Captain Lamb push themselves into door of the ambulance. His face, red as the blazing sun, shines towards the two officers and his mouth opens to yell in their general direction. Cutting him off, Lenina starts to explain the events of the last twenty minutes, but seems to get flustered at his constant ranting and interdictions with her story. Finally Faith, weary from her battle and exhausted from listening to the pointless yelling, stands up, nudges Lacey aside, and proceeds directly towards the chief. Fear creeps into him as he watches the ex cryo-con Faith, heading right towards him. He strategically tries backpedaling his way out of the ambulance, and he fears that he may have pushed the ex-con too far. Stumbling out of the ambulance, He looks up to see Faith land mere inches from his face and lean towards him. "You weren't there! You didn't see what these things could do! They ruined my shirt, they smelled bad, they obviously killed a lot of people before us, and someone was feeding them those people! So lay off of us! We're lucky to be alive."

Stammering, he blurts out, "But the devastation…?" Faith doesn't relent, and shouts at him louder. "You can blame me if you want, it did use my Glow-stick to blow the place up! Just blame me, leave Lenina out of it! She couldn't have slowed it down, any better than I did, to say the least kill them." Captain Zachary Lamb comes up to Faith and the Chief, and intercedes. "Chief, there wasn't anyone in the buildings at the time. They were all automated facilities, and the most that would have been here, if at all would have been five. They were the Sixth District's Power and Fuel Distribution Center. The Utility Department will have its systems rerouted in fifteen minutes, and this area will be isolated. If what she says is true, the only gas that could have been in there would have been residual from the great quake." Looking at Faith, he finishes. "We have our gas plants on the outer areas of town, so incase we have another quake, we won't have to worry about them rupturing and dealing with a fire like this in the middle of the city. Someone might have had a storage tank down there, and well, private ownership wasn't illegal back then."

The chief backs up slowly, hoping Faith won't follow him, and sighs loudly. "And I thought I was smart sending Detective Spartan, the Demolition Man himself, out of city limits to investigate the murders, and all the time I had the… the… Demolition Woman in my very midst, all along." Frustrated, he turns to leave. Zachary, unable to hide his amusement any longer, cracks a wide smile at Faith and reaches out to shake her hand. He whispers to her: "Good work. I'll expect your verbal report on my desk before the end of the day, and the written one by noon tomorrow. Got it you two?" Faith, still hot under the color with the chief, slowly lowers her icy guard and nods in agreement. The chief quickly wanders off with Zachary a few steps behind him.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Faith lets her be taken back to the ambulance, and looked over a little closer by the paramedics. Agreeing to be taken to the hospital, the pair endures a few more hours of examinations, and anti-biotic shots. When Lenina is released, she tells Faith to call her, and she'll come and get her. Faith, not in much of a hurry to head back to see the chief, takes a detour to see Kayla. When she arrives to her room, she finds an empty bed instead. It takes fifteen minutes to find the head nurse, who simply says she checked out, and leaves Faith bewildered in the hallway, alone.