Authors Note: As previously mentioned, this is switching between two lists with each update. This is because I want reviews, no other reason.

Chapter Six

Wesley had learned a lot since leaving the Watcher's Council. He'd learned that no amount of training could make up for a total lack of common sense. He'd learned that, no matter how good it looks, off-the-peg leather is not a practical option for hand-to-hand combat. He'd learned that, even compared to torture by a crazed and omnicidal Slayer, being shot in the stomach hurt like nothing he'd ever imagined, that good and evil are not always clear-cut, and that there's no such thing as cheating in a fight to the death. And he'd learned that, no matter how monstrous and brutal they may seem normally, most demons still occasionally like to just sit back, relax, and have a drink with friends.

In the city the size of New York it was pretty much guaranteed that somewhere there would be a bar that kept blood bags beside the whiskey bottles. And, the way Faith operated, if her presence weren't already known around there it soon would be.

Assuming, of course, that she wasn't being held captive and experimented on, or something of that kidney.

'You wanted to see me, Professor.'

'Yes. Sit down, Scott.'

'I'm assuming this is about Faith.'

'Indeed. Tell me, Scott, do you believe in vampires.' Almost any other man would probably have laughed in Xavier's face, or possibly simply fixed an artificial smile in place and nodded along. Scott Summers paused, considering.

'I try to stay open-minded about most things, Professor, but they do seem highly unlikely. I suppose you have evidence to the contrary?'

'You could call it evidence. Last night, according to the memories I skimmed from the group, Jubilee, Rogue and Gambit watched Faith fight and kill two vampires. May I?' A gentle probe tapped against Scott's psyche, and he closed his eyes and opened his mind in acceptance. The professor gave him an image from Jubilee's memory of Faith driving a makeshift stake into the chest of a man with bizarrely deformed features, who exploded into dust.

'I suppose it's too much to hope that she was drunk?' Scott asked.

'After their previous experience her classmates have unanimously agreed never to let her near alcohol, if you remember.' Scott had to smile at this. 'In any case Rogue, Gambit and Faith all have similar memories, though coloured by uncertainty and fear in the former two cases and a deep joy in combat on Faith's part.'

'Joy?' Scott was instantly concerned.

'Vampires exist, Scott. I have known this for a long time. There is nothing remotely Anne Rice about them. They are physically powerful monsters, not predators feeding on blood but rather parasites that derive an horrific pleasure from killing human beings.'

'You know this, and –'

'The X-Men would be largely ineffective against them. Among my many other interests is an organisation dedicated to curbing their excesses and, so far as is possible, thinning their ranks. Their most powerful weapon, though, has nothing to do with nature. It is a young human, gifted with extraordinary powers from an unknown source, known as the Slayer.'

'You mean . . .'

'That Faith really is the Avatar of an ancient power of some description, existing to protect humanity from the forces of darkness.'

Scott simply stared at him.

'Kurt?' The blue-skinned mutant looked up from his book.

'Jubilation.' He said to the girl who stood before him. On anyone else he'd have called her expression nervous; this being Jubilee, he chose to call it worrying.

'Whatcha reading?' She asked, seemingly at random. Kurt's response was to silently raise his book to show her the spine.

'The Song of Songs.' He told her.

'Okay.' She said. Jubilee had been raised by Buddhists-turned-atheists before slipping through the cracks in the religion-free state care system, so this meant nothing to her. 'Uh… If I ask you something, and it sounds like I'm insulting you, but really I'm just trying to find stuff out, will you get mad?'

'Perhaps.' He replied. 'But you will not know if you do not ask, nicht wahr?'

'Well…' She paused. Kurt put on his most composed expression, and wondered whether she had finally decided to just ask about the more unconventional uses of his tail. 'You know you look kinda like a demon?'

'That fact had not escaped my attention, yes.' He replied solemnly.

'You ever meet a real one?' the words came out in a rush. Kurt looked up at her, mild yellow eyes on nervous blue ones.

'Yes.' He replied quietly. 'And you?'

'Back when I was on the streets in LA.' She said. 'Did you hear about last night?'

'No. What happened last night?'

'Vampires.' She suddenly grinned. 'We were out dancing and Faith dragged me over to talk to these guys, and I tried to argue, 'cause, hey, they weren't exactly my type, even if I was legal, which I'm totally not, and then I looked at them again and realised that, y'know, they weren't quite normal. So I'm like, this is a really bad idea, Faith, but she can't hear me 'cause of the music. And she gets all flirty with the guys, and then drags me out the back way with them following. And they come out and I'm still trying to warn her, but she's all 'I know', and she smashes this crate to make a stake, and then the two guys come out behind her and Faith's like, I'm so going to kick your asses, and they're totally laughing while they attack her, and then she does just kick their asses. And then Gambit and Rogue turn up – and I am so not asking why they were headed out the back way together – just in time to see her dust the two guys, and I'm like, hey, vampires! And Rogue's like oh, vampires. And Gambit's like, huh, vampires?' She paused to inhale for what seemed to be the first time in her monologue. 'And he had this seriously cute look on his face like, totally stunned and no idea what's going on for once, and Faith's totally casual about it, and when we ask her how she killed them she says she's a Slayer. What's a Slayer?'

'Dann ist Glaube wirklich unsere stärke und schild[1].' Kurt muttered, and closed his bible.

'Huh?' She asked.

'The Slayer is a legend.' He replied, and paused, going over what little he knew in his mind and wondering where to begin.

'You haven't met Logan, have you?' Mr Summers was asking as he led Faith into the depths of the school.

'Guess not.' Faith replied. 'What does he…' She was cut off as Gambit stepped into the corridor ahead of them

'Fait'.' He said. 'Remy missed you dis mornin', him.' He gave her a rakish smile. 'Like a word wid you, ma belle.'

'I'll be waiting by the elevator. Take your time.' Mr Summers said, and moved off before Faith could argue.

'Whaddya want, LeBeau?' Gambit was somewhat surprised; he wasn't used to getting quite this reaction from his conquests.

Then again, he wasn't quite sure that Faith counted as a conquest.

'Jus' wondering where you'd gone.' And why.

'What, you were expecting we'd wake up in each other's arms and cuddle all morning?'

'Dat wasn't quite de plan Remy had in mind.' He used the Suggestive Leer, an attack mode even more effective in some cases than the Whipped Cream Technique. Faith seemed unmoved.

'Yeah? Well, not to bruise your ego too much, but you didn't exactly leave me wanting a repeat performance.' Faith strode past him, suppressing a smirk at the shocked expression on his face, and then stopped a short distance down the corridor, adding over her shoulder; 'Hey, it was fun though. Really. Maybe some other time.'

And, with Gambit's ego shot down in flames, she headed on towards this Logan guy and her 'Skills and Powers assessment'.

Finding some things is just a matter of knowing how to look. In New York, the story runs, almost anything can be found by talking to a taxi driver. Assuming you can find one with a language in common.

Wesley had been rather surprised to find that this story was true. The third cab that he and Cordy had tried was driven by a half-breed Anamovic demon, who had nodded happily when asked to take them 'somewhere I can get a good Vitriol and Vodka'.

To the surprise of neither Wesley nor Cordelia the bar was underground, beneath an old auto garage in Coney Island.

'Are we gonna be safe in there?' Cordelia asked, peering at the door.

'Just act arrogant. Or normal, in your case.' Wesley strode past her before she could work out the insult, and walked with calm confidence into the room. The bar was very quiet, with just a scattering of lunchtime drinkers – three vampires, a couple of probable humans, and a Tviokhian Crawler, nursing a beaker of what the former Watcher guessed would be distilled bile cut with battery acid, in one corner. Wesley made straight for the bar.

The bartender looked almost exactly like an ordinary young woman with pale skin, except for her eyes, which were a shocking scarlet.

'Whaddya want?' She practically snarled.

'A gin and tonic.' Wesley replied politely. He could think of four different species that this being might potentially be, and would only feel confident about offending one of them.

'Do you have grapefruit juice?' Cordelia asked beside him. Wesley glanced at her, but then decided that if she didn't have the sense to order something transparent in a place like this, it was her lookout.

He sipped his drink – scowling as the cheap gin reached his taste buds – and then turned to glance around the room.

'Looking for somebody?' The bartender asked behind him.

'You might say that.' Wesley replied. 'Had you heard that the Slayer is in town?' Judging by the expression on the face of the… woman, she hadn't.

'Since when?' The few patrons were all suddenly looking at him, and it was one of the vampires who had asked.

'Since yesterday.' He replied. 'Word hasn't got out yet?'

'Slayers aren't known for leaving survivors behind.' The bartender commented. 'What's your angle, human?'

'I'm looking to remove her.' He replied.

'You a Watcher?' the vampire spokesman asked. He looked about thirty years old, short blond hair and a powerful build.

'The last Watcher I ran into, I poisoned.' Wesley replied with perfect honesty. 'No. I'm not a Watcher.'

'So what's your interest?' Wesley turned to look directly at the creature for the first time. He reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, pulling it open to reveal a crisscrossing pattern of faint scars.

'The last time we met, she indulged herself at my expense. I'd like to respond.' He gave a small smile, and began re-buttoning his shirt. The vampire scowled at him. 'What do you know, Mr…?'

'Cale. A couple of my people didn't come back this morning.' He said finally. 'They were planning on finding something to eat at a local club.' He and Wesley locked gazes for a long moment, and then Cordelia interrupted.

'So? Tell us the name of the club already?'

'Okay.' Said Faith. 'What is this place?'

'The school gym.' Summers told her. 'Some of the kids like to call it the Danger Room.'

Faith swivelled slowly, looking around a room the size of an aircraft carrier, walls, floor and ceiling made of what looked like metre-square steel panels.

'Freaky. Who built it?'

'The Professor ordered its construction. The design was by a man named Forge. The actual work was done by local contractors, although there was already a quite large natural cave under the house.' As he spoke, he removed his shades, replacing them with his combat visor. 'I'm told you have exceptional physical abilities. Exactly how much damage can you reasonably take?' Faith had moved a short distance away, and she now turned to face him.

'Well, a knife to the gut with a long drop onto a short truck turned me into a big vegetable for a while.' She turned her back once more. 'The worst I had before that was from this big, ugly vamp's big, ugly pet alligator. He kinda shredded my arm, and that took about a week to heal. It didn't help that the owner broke about eight of my ribs straight after.'

'It sounds like you were lucky to escape.'

'Stabbed him in the face with a metal crucifix and then ran to California. Next time round, I had help. He's dust.' There was a melancholy note to her voice that Scott hadn't heard before in their – admittedly brief – acquaintance.

'You don't sound too happy about it.'

'Yeah, well, we all got our regrets.' Her shoulders straightened. 'So what's this testing then?'

'Me.' Said a fresh voice from the open doorway. Faith turned to view the newcomer.

All-over black leather works for some people, and Logan was definitely one of these people. He was, Faith noticed, tall – of a height with Mr Summers, and a lot more muscular. Not to mention hairier. Faith wasn't normally a beard kind of girl, but the look worked for this guy – worked big time. He was, in short, pretty. Add to that the dangerous glint in his eyes and the slight smirk he wore, and you had something that looked not unlike Faith's perfect one-night stand. Too bad he hadn't been handy twelve hours ago.

He prowled – there was no other word for it – past Summers and into the room, glancing around briefly before returning his attention to her.

'First of all we need to assess your combat skills.' Scott was saying. 'Which means you fight with Wolverine.'

'Wolverine, huh?' She asked, starting to circle the big man. 'Freaky name.'

'It's Logan, off duty.' He replied, rolling his shoulders. The resultant sound was somewhat metallic. Faith responded by clenching her fists hard enough to make the knuckles crunch.

'How badly do you want me to beat him up?'

'As much as you like.' Summers replied. 'You can't hurt him. He's almost indestructible. Try not to hit his crotch, though.' Before Faith could complete the 'Huh?' that rose to her lips, Wolverine had attacked.

Gunn gave his sister's clothes back to Anne. Without them the already small boxful of property seemed almost pathetically empty. There were a couple of books, a few pieces of mostly fake jewellery he had stolen for her or she had lifted for herself, a little makeup, again probably stolen. There was a picture of the two of them in a cheap plastic frame, and a gold earring that had belonged to the first vampire she ever managed to stake. Knickknacks, memories and trophies, and a pawnbroker probably wouldn't give him ten dollars for everything his sister's life had left behind. And, at the bottom of the box, there was a scrap of paper marked with an out of state phone number. Written on the other side in Alonna's untidy scrawl were two words.

'Jubilee. Xavier's.'


[1] 'Then Faith is truly our strength and shield.' This bad pun brought to you with the help of Babelfish.com. I don't speak German.