"So, should we be expecting a new slayer to pop up soon?" Willow asked in-between her furious pace of typing.

"Pardon?" Giles replied.

"Well, it's for the database here. I just want to add the all the slayer based variables and since there were two before, wouldn't there be two now?"

"Oh, yes. Of course. It hadn't occurred to me."

"I have all the data about Faith and Angela entered. You know when Faith died at the hands of the Master, even if it was only for a minute, Angela was called. Bingo, two slayers. Now, when Faith died nine months ago, Buffy was called. And Angela died a month ago, so it looks like we might be seeing a new slayer one of these days."

Giles leaned over her shoulder, peering at the screen of what he called "the infernal machine." He appreciated the painstakingly detailed work the young woman had put into all of it. The charts she had made of the slayer lineage was in perfect chronological order, complete with the names of their Watchers and what countries they'd lived in.

"Excellent work Willow," he said proudly.

She beamed in return and began to type again.

"I suppose there was another slayer called to duty, but I've heard nothing of it from the council."

"Oh, well I just thinking it'd be something easier to deal with if we knew it was coming. We all didn't react well to Angela at first. It didn't help that she was a little..."

"She was very..."

"She was a bitch;" Willow stated and laughed slightly at Giles' bemused look at her use of profanity.

They both looked up to the doors as Buffy walked in with Xander in tow. The two looked like a pair of soldiers coming off of combat duty for the first time in days. Buffy's already worn overalls now had several rips in it, and she had a few scratches on her arms. Xander's shirt was in tatters and he was covered in dirt and missing a shoe. He had a mild gash on his forehead, which still leaked blood down the side of his face.

"My god," Giles exclaimed. "What happened to you?"

"The vamps thought they were cats and we were scratching posts," Buffy said. "One lady vamp nearly tore Xander's clothes off."

"What can I say?" Xander stated flatly. "The ladies love me."

"You wish," Buffy muttered.

Giles and Willow both smiled at each other at the exchange between the two. They'd gotten along better than when they'd first met a week ago. She'd refused to allow him to accompany her on patrol despite Giles' assurance that he could handle himself. Buffy said she was a warrior not a baby sitter and stormed about causing Xander to chase after her, screaming all the way. An exchange that seemed to go on for days. Yet now it seemed that they have reached some sort of understanding. Giles mildly wondered what had caused it, but greatly welcomed the results.

"Do you have a first aid kit?" Buffy asked taking a seat.

"In my office, I'll get it." Giles replied.

Xander also took a seat at the table and Willow looked at him in concern. He smiled faintly at her and she returned it. She was always scared for him when he went on patrols. Not that she didn't think he could handle himself, because she knew he could. But she was afraid that one of these times he wouldn't come back, and not at the hands of vampire or whatever they happened to be hunting. He saw the concern on her face and laughed mildly, telling her he was fine. At least for now. Giles returned with the first aid kit and handed it to Buffy. She took out a small bottle of antiseptic and a patch of gauze and titled the antiseptic onto it. She scooted her chair over to Xander who looked at her in confusion until the slapped the gauze to the cut on his forehead. His hand shot up to her wrist and she saw the tail end of a large piece of scar tissue on his wrist peak out from the cuff of his shirt. She looked back to him strangely. He hissed at the sting, but kept his eyes locked onto hers. She filed away whatever she was thinking for another time and attended to his wounds, grabbing his hand and tossing it away from her wrist.

"I thought I told you not to touch me," she said bitterly.

"Hey now, who touched me first? How about a little warning next time huh?" He requested hissing at the sting once more.

"Come off it tough guy," she said. "It doesn't hurt that badly."

He nodded stiffly but kept his mouth clamped shut. She removed the gauze and reached inside the kit for a butterfly bandage and stuck it over his cut.

"There," she said. "Better."

"Want me to clean your cuts?"

"I got it."

His brows furrowed at her resistance but said nothing. He looked on as she attended to her own scratches and saw the precision in which she dealt with them. She caught him looking and shook her head.

"My old watcher taught me first aid," she said. "Thought it would be a good thing to know, you know?"

He nodded. It made sense.

"How did the patrol go?" Giles asked. "I mean, besides the... incident with the scratching and what not."

"Besides the cat pack it was kind of dull," Xander said stretching. "Nothing big on the horizon I hope."

"Not that I'm aware of," Giles replied. "Still, I think it's best to be on alert for anything. Keep on your toes and all that."

"Whatever comes my way," Buffy said. "I can handle it."

"We," Xander threw in. "We can handle it."

Buffy only grunted in response. It told Xander all he needed to know at that point. She may have come to accept his presence on patrols, but it didn't mean she liked it. He sighed. She was so hard to deal with sometimes. Faith wasn't this hard to... His mind flooded with the memory of his last dream about her and he closed his eyes tightly trying to keep the thoughts that followed at bay. His fists clenched and he slammed it against the table startling everyone. Buffy spilled the little bottle of antiseptic and she cursed softly before glaring at Xander.

"What's your damage?"

Giles and Willow both froze at her words. They both knew Xander must have been thinking about Faith because a small act of violence always followed. They knew the amount of pain he dealed with. They'd been there to help him as best they could, carefully avoiding useless questions like "what's wrong?" And "are you okay?" Buffy wasn't aware of any of this and Willow assumed she thought he was crazy. Everyone else seemed to think so. She and Giles released a breath of relief when Xander didn't move to hit her like he usually did when anyone asked something like that.

"You don't want to know," he said quietly.

"Whatever," she replied rolling her eyes.

"Whatever," he mimicked.

Buffy looked up to glare at him again; it seemed to be their favorite activity with each other. Giles sighed mildly and assumed the truce they had come to wasn't so solid after all. Willow watched as their eyes bore into each other and she wondered who would back down first. She frowned a little bit when Xander turned his head away. It wasn't like him to give in so easily. As if he'd read her thoughts he looked over to her and shrugged. She didn't know what to think.

"I'm going to go home and get a new shirt," Xander stated rising from his chair and stretching. He looked over to Giles and said good night, then looked to Willow.

"I'll see you later?" He asked.

Willow nodded, and he turned to walk away. Buffy looked to Willow curiously but didn't say anything. Willow didn't know what to say so she went back to her typing. Neither she nor Giles heard Buffy get up and leave.

***

She exited the main building and began trudging down the sidewalk to her Motel room. She didn't like it much. It was dirty, it was sleazy, and they didn't have cable. Still, it was cheap and that's all that mattered. Not a sound was heard as she walked and she thought to herself how could a town so small be the mystical center of all hell on earth. Cleveland was at least a *city* that had it's own share of... She shook her head. That was the last place she wanted to think of. A twig snapped behind her and she whirled around to attack, stopping when her 'partner' came into view.

"Oh," she said in annoyance. "It's you."

"Me," he responded.

"Stealth," she said mockingly. "Look it up."

He smiled as he showed her the broken stick in his hands.

"Just testing your reflexes."

"I don't need my reflexes tested," she growled. "Aren't you supposed to be going home? Where are your priorities where's..." She looked at him closer and realized he was missing an article of clothing. "Where's your shirt?" She asked turning away from him, not wanting to stare at his exposed skin.

He looked down shyly at his bare chest and laughed lightly.

"It was in tatters anyway," he said. "I mine as well have thrown it away."

"Uh, yeah okay," she responded, her eyebrows raised. "Logical."

He moved so that he stood next to her and he could feel that her reaction was to move away. She remained still though it seemed to take some effort on her part. They both looked around at the emptiness of the street. Neither had to say it, but they both found the scenery quite calming in the usual chaos of the slaying line of work. They began to walk along the sidewalk side by side and he rubbed his arms lightly to ward off the chilly night breeze against his clotheless form. She kept her head locked forward as they moved, but her eyes drifted down the length of his arms. It was the first time she'd seen him without sleeves to cover them and she was vaguely curious as to why he always kept them covered. She saw no tattoos, no misshapen birthmarks of any kind...

"Oh yeah," she thought and he raised his right hand to scratch his nose, seeing the six inch scars that from the base of his wrist to his inner forearm. "That's why."

He caught her looking and she quickly moved her eyes away. He said nothing. A few minutes later when she dared turn her head towards him again he was looking at her blankly. His eyes offered nothing and she knew not bother asking. Not that she would have bothered asking anyway. That would have entitled him to ask his own questions about her. And while she grudgingly accepted his presence when she patrolled, and in her life in general, they still barely knew anything about each other. Something that wanted to stay that way. They continued walking without saying a word and she tried to keep her eyes to herself.

"Wasn't that your house?" She asked as they past the spotless two-story white painted building. She'd seen it for the first time the other night when he'd unexpectedly said goodnight and walked up to the door. A brand new Mercedes was parked in the driveway and the surrounding flower garden stood freshly clipped and in full bloom. The grass was mowed meticulously and a few lawn gnomes stood nearest to the porch. The porch itself had a bench made in the late 1700's and a handcrafted end table worth $25,000. The door to the house had a solid gold knocker and doorknob combo and the window at the top was beautiful stained glass portrait of an eagle soaring over a mountain.

Xander kept on walking and Buffy followed in confusion.

"You're not still going to patrol are you?" She asked. It was three-thirty in the morning. She was tired, she was hungry and they'd already killed more than a handful of vamps. There wasn't a need to go on another tour of the city. Why did he need to keep going?

"I forgot that it's Friday," he replied as if that answered everything. "I'm sleeping at Willow's tonight."

"Why?" She asked before she could stop herself.

"Because mumsy and dadsy have their little social gatherings every Friday. A collection of Sunnydale's wealthiest who sit around, drink brandy, smokes cigars or imported cigarettes and congratulate each other on having loads of money and basically being masters of the universe. I know to keep away. If I went in there my parents would just ignore me like always, but one of their friends would say in that patronizing little tone rich folks have. 'That's your son Joan? My word he sure is... independent.' I don't need that bullshit every week so I just sleep on Willow's floor."

He looked at her briefly before continuing.

"I know what you're thinking. Oh, poor little rich kid, has everything money can buy, but his parents won't pay him any attention. Boo-Hoo."

"I wasn't thinking that," she said defensively. "Weren't you at least going to get a shirt?"

"I changed my mind. I have some at Willow's house."

"Oh."

As they walked she couldn't help but wonder again why he insisted on fighting the good fight alongside her. She was the chosen one not him. From what Giles had told her about Faith, Xander was the first one to discover that she was the slayer. Apparently Faith had saved him and Willow from a pack of vamps while they attacked the local nightclub. From that day on he'd insisted on helping her and Giles though at the time had no actual skills to assist them. The Watcher had also mentioned something about Xander and Faith being involved, but that had nothing to do with it. He obviously didn't have money issues to worry about, so why bother? The involvement was something she herself didn't quite understand. Being the slayer was a sacred duty of solitude. People just got in the way. Speaking of people, another strange thing about this town was the people here just seemed to accept all the mysterious deaths that piled up. And least in Cleveland they'd come up with better cover-up excuses.

They kept walking and she noticed the thin pale outline of scar tissue along his neck. Vampire bite, she knew. While her slayer healing took care of the bites fairly quickly, a scar always seemed to remain. Her hands rose to touch her face and her neck and she shivered.

"Cold?" He asked.

"No," she bit out.

"Okay," he replied. "Well, you don't have to walk me to Willow's. I can make it on my own."

"I wasn't going to...Whatever," she sighed and moved to cross the street without another word and began to walk in the other direction.

He watched her until she cleared the block.

"Whatever," he replied quietly.

When he got to Willow's house he climbed the tree that was nearest her window and hopped down onto her balcony. Giles should be dropping her off any minute so he sat on one the patio chairs she had. He closed his eyes but immediately snapped them open. When his eyes closed thoughts of Faith usually followed. He didn't want to think of her right now. Instead he pulled out his pack of Lucky Strikes from his pocket and lit up. Willow hated it when he smoked so he'd have to make sure she didn't smell it on him when she came home. He cursed when he saw Giles' car crawling down the street. He'd only gotten a few puffs. He flicked the cigarette onto the lawn and sat back down waiting for her.

A minute later her bedroom light clicked on and she opened the balcony door for him. He walked inside her room and watched her as she sat on her bed and took her shoes off. She looked at him and noted the lack of clothing.

"Where's your shirt?" She asked.

"Chucked it," he replied.

"Um, 'kay."

He walked over to her closet and took one of the shirts he kept there and pulled it over his head. She still sat on the bed when he turned back to her. She looked like she wanted to say something to him but couldn't find the words.

"What?" He asked.

"Well," she said timidly.

"Spit it out Wills," he said.

"You and Buffy don't seem to like each other much," she said cautiously.

"She's not exactly the most friendly gal on the planet." He said walking over to the doors leading to the balcony. "What's not to like?"

"Last I checked you weren't the most friendly guy," she said.

He turned and smirked at her. "A minor detail."

"At least she's not like Angela," Willow offered.

Xander nodded. "True."

"She seems..."

"Could we not talk about Buffy anymore?" He asked cutting her off. "I just want to rest."

"Sure Xand," she said standing up to take the rest of her clothes off. She wasn't as shy around him as she'd once been. Not since they'd slept together that night a few months ago. He was in pain and she was trying to comfort him and it just happened. She knew it would never happen again, but when you've seen someone naked, changing in front of them with your bra and panties still on didn't seem so bad. She pulled a giant t-shirt over her head to serve as sleepwear and turned the light off.

She pulled the covers back from her bed and beckoned for him to crawl in. He slid between the sheets and she followed. He rolled over to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, and she cuddled him gently around the back of his head and shoulders. Her eyes closed as she felt his breath on her stomach. She hoped that tonight he would actually get some sleep. She knew he wouldn't.