Derek couldn't sleep. As was often the case late at night his mind simply would not shut down. He thought about Xander and Faith, their new, burgeoning relationship, and he smiled a bittersweet smile. Other people's happiness often reminded him of his late wife and child, and brought a profound sense of sadness, in spite of his being happy for others. He also thought of Sunnydale and the Scooby Gang, and began to wonder how they'd handle his presence on what they perceived to be their turf.

He'd been on their turf for a year without them knowing it, so that might have ticked them off, but he'd know for certain later. Generally, he thought of the battle into which he'd been providentially called. The deception and danger was so great, and Derek was tired of the subterfuge, at least as it applied to the good guys.

Enough, he thought, sitting up and walking into the kitchen. He got off of the sofa, aiming to head to the kitchen to grab a cup of decaf tea and sit out on the front porch. However, as he walked by his living room windows, movement out on the lawn caught his eye. Thinking it was a deer, or maybe a small black bear, he stopped for a second look.

"Crap," Derek said as he quickly became alert. He quickly moved to his gun cabinet, grabbing a .12 gauge shotgun. He didn't need to check to know it was loaded. Flicking the safety off, Derek moved to the hallway, banging on doors.

"Everybody up! Arm yourselves! We've got company! Two men, armed, heading to the front door! Wes, you armed?"

All Derek heard was the sound of a round being slammed into the chamber of a firearm. Moving to the master bedroom, he was greeted by Faith, armed with a machete and a medium-sized fixed blade knife.

"What the hell, D?"

"Faith, back door! Now!" Without arguing, Faith went back to the back door to make sure they had the entrances covered. Xander walked out of his bedroom, unsure as to what he should do.

"X, in the drawer of the table next to your bed is a collapsible baton. Grab it and go help Faith!" Xander was nodding as he went back into his bedroom to grab the baton and help his Faith.

"Derek!" Wes shouted as there was a loud boom at the front door. The gunshots blew the door open and Wes and Derek turned to face the two threats advancing through the door. They both fired and moved towards the threat. Between the .12 gauge and Wes' .45, the attack was over quickly.

Simultaneously, the back door flew open in a similar fashion as the front, but instead of being met with gunshots, the intruder was met with a machete blade crashing down on his hands. With a scream of anguish, the man was shocked as he turned to engage the threat.

His mind sent the message to his hands to begin firing, but his hands wouldn't comply. The man looked down to find his hands lying on the floor in a pool of blood.

Faith continued the attack with the knife, until the man fell to the ground in a heap. Xander was stunned not by the violence, but rather by the simple efficiency that Faith exhibited. Sure, he'd seen her with a stake in her hand but never with knives engaging a human target.

As the man hit the floor, Faith turned to Xander. "X, you OK? Xander!"

Snapping out of his haze, Xander answered, "Yeah, I'm good. Wow."

"D! Wes! We're clear back here!"

Derek answered the Dark Slayer. "Yeah, we're clear here! Stay away from the win-."

Almost on cue, a shot rang out, and Wes and Derek dove for cover, scrambling to stay clear of the sniper's line of sight.

"Derek, I'll head out of the back door and track this shooter down. Stay here and draw his fire."

"Got it. Be safe." Derek turned to talk to Faith. "Faith! Crawl up here for a minute. I don't want to yell."

Faith and Xander belly-crawled to the front of the house. Faith spoke in a whisper. "Is there another guy out there?"

"Yeah, just out in those trees. How many people were at the back?"

"Just the one."

Derek thought quickly. "OK. There probably aren't any shooters out back or you'd have been shot while you were in sight through the door. So we've got to distract that shooter so Wes can track him down. Xander, help me toss one of those bodies out the front door."

Xander nodded and began to move, then stopped. "Wait. What?"

Derek pointed at the corpse of one of the men who entered the front door. "If we can toss that body out hard and fast, it might look like someone trying to run away, and the sniper might spend a little time checking him out. If he fires a shot, that'll help Wes find him. If not, Wes'll keep looking, but we'll have to find a way to keep that long gun trained on us and not Wes."

Xander and Derek crawled over to the body of Anthony, although they didn't know his name. They picked him up and threw the body as far and as hard as they could.

Sure enough, a half-second after the body hit the porch, a shot rang out. Ten seconds later, another shot, this one from a .45, pierced the night sky. A scream quickly followed, then a thump. A minute later, Wes' voice was clear and strong.

"Clear! There were only four of them! Derek, a little help, please!"

Derek turned to Faith and Xander. "Stay here. We'll be back in a few minutes." He turned and ran out of the front door.

A few minutes later, Derek and Wes, carrying a third person between them, came back to the house. Wes had a rifle slung over his back, and Derek was shirtless, having wrapped his shirt around the leg of the third man. Derek was chuckling as they approached.

"Faith, Wes shot this guy in the ass."

The stress and adrenaline beginning to bleed off, Faith laughed a jittery laugh. Xander followed suit, and while it certainly was a bad night, the fight was over, and there were no casualties.

"Take this guy into the kitchen, Xander. Put him on the kitchen table. Faith, go into the bathroom and grab the first aid kit from the closet. Wes, go help Xander secure this guy. I don't think he'll run off, but I don't want another fight right now."

As everyone ran to handle their tasks, Derek quickly moved to grab his cell phone. Dialing the number the number to the Sheriff's office, Derek thought fast. Recognizing the Sheriff's voice on the other end, Derek didn't have to worry about his cover story.

"Yeah, hey Kurt, it's Derek. Some folks might be calling 911 about shots fired out near my place. It's handled. No one of your citizens were hurt, but I've got 3 dead and 1 wounded."

Kurt's voice was clipped as he took in the info. "Damn, boy, you sure you're alright?" Kurt, a Vietnam veteran, was much older than Derek, almost like a father figure, always called Derek "boy." Shortly after Derek moved to Idaho, he and the sheriff struck up a friendship built on shared experience.

"Yeah, we're alright out here. Just tell folks we were shooting off some fireworks too late, and that I'll be by later today to apologize to them, if need be."

"Well, I don't think that'll be a big deal, boy. You need some help out there?"

Derek didn't want to burden a law enforcement officer with this, even though Kurt knew the score of things. "No, sir, we'll take care of it. I don't want your hands dirty. I'll be by in a day or so to give you a statement."

"Yeah, about that, boy. Our computer system's down. I can't take statements for a while. You understand?"

Derek smiled. "Yes, sir. Let's meet at Jimmy's for a bite to eat in a day or so, then."

"Well now, that's a fine idea. Keep your powder dry, son." They hung up and Derek went back inside.