Changing of the Guard - Part 2

The trip to California had been silent, much as Elizabeth expected. Faith generally preferred to be more vocal in her displeasure but only if she thought she had a chance of winning the argument. When there wasn't a possibility of that, she dropped into an icy mope. Elizabeth had never quite managed to figure out what good Faith thought that might do. Certainly, the last three years should have taught her that the silent treatment didn't work, yet still, the girl resorted to it when all else failed.

They'd landed in Los Angeles early the previous evening, taking a room at one of the airport hotels, because Elizabeth didn't care to arrive on the Hellmouth when it was full dark. Her explanation of this to Faith earned her a sullen glare that was finished off by an eye roll. After that, Elizabeth made a game of it, to see how many times she could get her Slayer to glare at her before they turned in for the night. She kept her chatter light and thoroughly inane, and in less than an hour, Faith had a full-fledged temper tantrum.

Elizabeth made a mental note to use that technique in the future, because once Faith aired her grievances, both real and imagined, she was infinitely easier to deal with. By the time they went to bed, Faith was even joking again. They weren't precisely pleasant jokes, as they were about Miss Summers' apparent inability to manage her job, but Elizabeth was pleased nonetheless. She'd been dealing with Faith's arrogance long enough to recognize the insecurity that drove it and not be worried about what she said while trying to boost her confidence.

The next morning, they took their time getting dressed and having breakfast before heading to the car rental agency. The drive to Sunnydale was a little more than two hours, and Elizabeth saw no need to rush them through the day. Nighttime and its dangers would arrive soon enough — a problem even when there wasn't a hellmouth involved — and she very much wanted Faith to be relaxed and on top of her game before she started her duties that evening.

Again, much of Faith's conversation revolved around her fighting abilities and the fact that she would show "her" how it was done. Elizabeth allowed it up until the moment they started seeing signs for the Sunnydale exit along the freeway.

"Miss Summers survived for two years on top of a Hellmouth. That's no small accomplishment," she said, when Faith paused to draw breath.

"Couldn't have been all that good. I wouldn't be here if she hadn't died once, right?" Faith stretched out her legs and arms as much as possible in the small confines of the car. She finished by cracking her neck and settling back into her seat.

"Her death was foretold in a prophecy, yet she managed to come back with the help of a friend," she answered, emphasizing friend in the hope that Faith would take the hint and make one in Sunnydale. "My point is that no matter what you think of her inability to function as a Slayer now, she eliminated the Master of Aurelius and thwarted at least two attempts to bring about the end of the world."

"Yeah. Whatever," Faith said, turning to look out the window.

Elizabeth suppressed the urge to pull over to the breakdown lane so she could throttle her charge and continued, "There must be a very good reason for her to request your reassignment here. Kindly recall that fact when you meet her. I don't think I'd care to see you embarrass yourself."

"I get it, okay? I won't make an ass of myself. Happy now?" Faith put her feet on the dashboard and sank more deeply into her seat. Elizabeth sighed quietly, wishing the progress Faith made since the previous night hadn't disappeared so quickly.

~*~*~

"Hey, sweetie!" Standing just inside her mother's front door, Buffy gave Annie a hug, surprised at how much she'd missed her after just one night away.

When air became an issue, Annie pushed away, answering the look of hurt on Buffy's face with, "I missed you too, but you were hugging too hard."

Buffy reached over to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear before saying, "There's no such thing as hugging too hard."

Annie just snorted, then said, "Grandma Joyce said she wants to talk to you. Can I go back to Uncle Rupert's place now, though? I left my notebook there, and I want to write about last night."

"Sure thing," Buffy said. "I'll be along soon. Remember to watch for traffic. Don't —"

"— talk to any strange demons. Got it," Annie said with a grin as she put her backpack on. "Later."

After she closed the door behind Annie, Buffy took a deep breath to relax before talking to Joyce. She was still somewhat nervous around her mother, and she wasn't sure she would ever feel completely comfortable around her again, given what they'd both been through. 'At least we're not at each other's throats,' Buffy thought before she called out, "Mom?"

She made her way back to the kitchen and found Joyce putting away lunch. "Annie said you wanted to ask me something?"

Joyce looked away from the refrigerator and barely avoided flinching when she saw Buffy standing there. Even now, even knowing what had happened to her, Joyce still had a hard time labeling the woman in front of her as her daughter. It wasn't her hair so much — though the sight of the long dreadlocks was enough to make her cringe — nor was it the scarring on her face and arms. Mostly, it was that Buffy's face had taken on such a hard, closed look.

She took a deep breath and offered a smile before saying, "I was thinking we could have a welcome home party for you!"

Buffy blinked, uncertain how to answer. She stood there for a few moments, contemplating the horror her mother proposed before she saw potential salvation on the kitchen island. "What happened with this? An accident?" She held up two pieces of wood, and waited for an answer.

"That? Oh. It was a tribal mask from Africa. Annie broke it, I'm afraid," Joyce said.

Before she could mention the party again, Buffy frowned and broke in with, "Really? She's usually pretty careful with stuff."

"I'm sure it was an accident," Joyce said. "About the par —"

"How much was it worth? I'll pay you back," Buffy said, hoping to keep the conversation on the broken artwork.

"Buffy, don't worry about it. I'm sure Annie didn't mean to break it in half like that. Anyway, I know someone who works in wood, and they should be able to repair it," Joyce said. "Wait a minute — how can you repay me?"

"Looting," Buffy said, putting the pieces of the mask down before snagging a banana from the fruit bowl.

"Looting? You looted? When did you loot? Oh my god — my daughter looted. How could you loot? What kind of —" Joyce broke off, then held up her hands and said, "No. It's not my place to judge your decisions."

Pleased at getting her mother off the subject of the party, Buffy said, "Sure it is. You're my mother. You'll always judge what I do. But if it makes you feel better, I only ever looted from the rich bad guys. I left the poor ones alone."

"You're mocking me," Joyce said, looking amused, if mildly irritated.

"Maybe just a little. But really, it's the truth. I never robbed from the poor," Buffy said. She peeled the banana and took a small bite before adding, "Anyway, the point is, I can pay you for the mask or for the repairs just as soon as Giles finds buyers for some of the stuff we brought back."

Curious despite herself, she said, "What kind of things did you bring? They can't have been very large."

"Gems, mostly. A few of them mystical, most of them not." Buffy took another small bite of the banana, relishing the flavor of it and working hard not to eat too fast. She'd missed a lot of things in Hell, and fresh fruit on demand was near the top of the list.

"If you have jewelry, I might know a few buyers," Joyce said, the party apparently forgotten.

"No can do. The rings and amulets I have are magical, and they really shouldn't be out in the general public." Buffy took her third bite, forcing herself to eat more slowly. It was difficult, particularly when all she wanted to do was moan in pure, unadulterated bliss at the pleasure before shoving the banana into her mouth whole.

Joyce cocked her head, a slight frown forming, and asked, "Then who will you sell them to?"

Buffy swallowed before answering, "The Watchers' Council. Giles said they're always on the lookout for mystical artifacts. He figures I can probably get a decent price for most of it."

"And if you can't?"

Buffy smiled and said, "I'm pretty sure the Council is going to see things my way."

"And if they don't? What will you do then? Declare war on them?" Joyce started pacing in the kitchen, her mind flying in ten directions at once as she wondered if she was about to lose her daughter again.

"What is it with you and Giles? Why do you both just automatically assume I'll declare war if I don't get what I want?" Annoyed, Buffy finished the last of her banana without really tasting it. "I mean, yeah, okay, I started a war to get home, but the circumstances were way different and it wasn't like I actually intended to start a civil war and overthrow the government and oh my god — no wonder you two are so worried."

Joyce shrugged and said, "It's not that I want to believe the worst of you. It's just that — you have to admit that starting a war is pretty significant."

"I know that," Buffy said. "And in my defense, I didn't actually start out with war in mind. All I was trying to do was find another portal home. But one thing led to another, and before I knew it I met a group of demons who were trying to do the same thing I was. It all kind of — snowballed."

Buffy watched her mother with a pleading expression on her face. It was bad enough that everyone she loved thought she was a warmonger. Worse still was that she felt like she was sixteen again and trying to explain why she flunked a math test.

"I understand. I just — no more wars, okay, honey?" The absurdity of the request hit both women at the same moment, and they burst into laughter. Each tried to calm down to the point where speech was possible, though for several minutes, it was a lost cause.

When they finally calmed down again, Buffy hugged Joyce and said, "Thanks. I needed that."

Joyce drew back a bit and said, "I think we both did. When will you find out if the Council will buy the jewelry?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe tomorrow or the day after. Some guy named Travers is coming in with a woman — damn. Can't remember her name. Anyway, she's a seer, and he's bringing her along to make sure I'm me," she answered. Then, pulling out of Joyce's arms, she added, "Right now, I need to get back to Giles' place. The new Slayer is coming in this afternoon, and I want to be there to greet her."

"That's nice. You can invite her to your welcome-home party," Joyce said with a pleasant expression on her face. "Oh! And maybe you can invite Mr. Travers and that other person from the Watchers' Council."

Buffy froze, looking at her mother much the same way as a deer caught in the headlights of a car.

~*~*~

"Straighten your jacket, Faith," Elizabeth said just before knocking on Mr. Giles' door. "And either spit out your gum or swallow it."

"Geez, E. Get a grip, will you? It's not like he's —" Faith swallowed her gum abruptly as the door opened to reveal a young woman who looked to be about her age. Her fashion sense was — not. She figured the girl must be under some kind of curse, because who on earth would wear —

"Good afternoon. I'm Elizabeth Douglas," she said, smiling pleasantly and holding out her hand to the girl.

She seemed puzzled by the outstretched hand, looking at it for a moment before walking back into the apartment and calling out, "Uncle Rupert? They're here!"

Faith muttered, "Does that mean I get to —"

"Try it, and I'll have you running laps around the town," Elizabeth interrupted in a low voice. The girl must be Miss Summers, but she had left them standing there as if they were selling some product door-to-door.

Before her ire had a chance to turn into full blown anger, Rupert Giles appeared at the door and opened it fully. He said, "So sorry that you had to stand out there. I think we've met once or twice, haven't we, Miss Douglas?"

"Yes. I believe the last time was some seven years ago, just before you took over the training of one of the potentials," she said, holding out her hand to him.

He shook it and said, "Yes. Caroline Weatherly. Splendid young girl. She's married now."

"Is she? How lovely." Elizabeth pulled Faith forward slightly and said, "May I present Faith, the Vampire Slayer?"

Giles smiled warmly and said, "Welcome to Sunnydale, Faith. It's a pleasure."

Faith gave him a slow, sultry smile and said, "Damn. If I'd known Watchers came this young and pretty, I mighta traded after all."

She ignored Elizabeth's pained, "Faith, please."

Blushing slightly, he stammered, "Traded? I don't understand."

Elizabeth's expression turned grim, and she said, "Roger Wyndam-Pryce thought his son might be a more suitable Watcher for Faith once she was called."

"That's absurd! He knows perfectly well that once a Watcher is assigned to a potential, there's no turning back," Giles said.

"He made enough of a stink about my suitability that Quentin Travers ended up flying over to do an on-site inspection at the behest of the full Council," she said. The nonsense back in June was still enough to raise her hackles, and it was with a visible effort that she forced herself to calm down again. "Well. I've introduced you to my Slayer. Would you care to do the same?"

"Oh. Yes. Of course. Buffy had to stay and chat with her mother a bit, but I'm sure she'll be along soon," Giles said, taking the hint that Elizabeth didn't wish to discuss the issue further. Unfortunately, he would have to bring it up again, so she wouldn't be surprised when Travers showed up with young Wesley in tow. He thought perhaps they could discuss it during patrol that night. At least that way, if she felt the need to express her anger physically, there would possibly be one or two vampires for her to stake.

Gesturing in confusion toward Annie, who watched from the kitchen, Elizabeth said, "I thought —"

"No, no." He turned and said, "Annie, come along. I'd like to introduce you to Faith, the Vampire Slayer, and her Watcher, Elizabeth Douglas." When she rejoined the group, he put his hand on her shoulder and said, "Annie is Buffy's daughter."

Though Faith was the first to regain her voice, the best she could manage was, "Huh?"

~*~*~

"— years, and in less than five days, she's reduced me to a teenager again. Unbelievable. Completely unbelievable!" Buffy stormed into Giles' apartment, continuing a conversation she'd apparently been having with herself for the several blocks between her mother's house and Giles' apartment.

Giles stood up from the couch, turning to say, "Buffy —"

"A party! She wants to throw a welcome home party for me," she said as she headed into the kitchen, too involved in her rant to pay much attention to much of anything around her. "And if that's not bad enough, she wants to invite Dad along to the shindig. I mean, I remember they didn't have the smoothest divorce, but I didn't think she hated him enough to spring a thirty-eight-year-old daughter on him without at least a hint beforehand."

"Buffy —"

She paused at the refrigerator before turning sharply and grabbing at the bottle of scotch on the bar. "Not only my father, but hey! What the hell? Let's invite the new Slayer and her Watcher. And while we're at it, let's invite the frickin' Council as well —"

"Buffy —"

"— Because really, my life didn't suck enough these last —"

"Buffy!"

At that, she finished pouring her drink, looked up and saw Giles standing there. He seemed a bit — peevish. "What?"

He started to say something, then seemed to change his mind. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, "I'd like to introduce you to Faith, the Vampire Slayer, and her Watcher, Elizabeth Douglas."

Buffy sighed and came out of the kitchen, muttering, "Great. They're here, and I'm acting like a complete lunatic."

Just as quietly, he replied, "And this is different from your normal behavior in what way?"

Buffy stepped on his foot at that, and after giving him a completely insincere smile of apology, she turned to Faith and said, "Sorry I wasn't here to meet you. Mom was busy planning my social calendar for the week. Have a good trip?"

She watched as the younger Slayer stood up slowly, seeming to stretch every muscle in her body, which naturally bared her sixteen-year-old midriff. 'Wonder who the show's for — me or Giles,' Buffy thought, schooling her expression to one of polite interest while she fought the urge to tell Faith to stop dressing like a slut.

Faith shrugged one shoulder and cocked her head before saying, "Yeah. It was okay." Buffy noted Faith's posture and pose, the one indicating insecurity and the other willful defiance. She wondered if she'd presented the same picture at that age, and she made a mental note to check with Giles. He'd remember.

Turning to Elizabeth, who had stood up without putting on a show, Buffy smiled and held out her hand, saying, "I'm glad you're here. Where are you staying?"

Elizabeth smiled and said, "We've a room at the Sunnydale Inn for now, but I imagine we'll be in a house soon enough. Mr. Giles said there's little difficulty in buying properties here."

Buffy smiled back at her, one part of her busy making with the nice, the other busy wondering how the hell such a small and prim woman could possibly hope to manage Faith. Once all the social niceties were taken care of, Buffy said, "Giles and I were talking about how to handle this, and we figured I could take you guys out on patrol —"

"Screw this," Faith said, turning on her heel to leave.

"Faith!" Elizabeth's tone was sharp and decisive, and Buffy's estimation of her went up a couple of notches. It was clear that she had Faith's respect in the way the girl — young woman — stopped short of actually leaving.

Faith turned back to them and said, "This is bull. We got dragged across the country, because Jungle Jane here doesn't wanna do her job anymore. Fine. She doesn't want it, she doesn't get a say in how I do it."

Giles and Elizabeth both went pale, then red at that little speech, and Buffy smiled at Faith. She ignored the small gasp from Annie, who was sitting on the stairs, and said, "A little cranky, are you?"

"You know what? I am. I'm sick and tired of this sh —"

Elizabeth said sharply, "Faith —"

"— shtuff. There's a vamp in Boston that's still wandering around, because you decided you couldn't hack it anymore. Fine. So you're an old lady. Why not just go out and get killed like a normal Slayer?" Faith stood there, quivering with rage, her attention focused on Buffy.

"Been there," Buffy said, walking around the couch and not sounding nearly as dangerous as she was at that moment.

"Done that," she said as she reached Giles' desk, warming up to the rhythm off starting a happy little one-on-one war.

"Burned the t-shirt," she said as she reached Faith and grabbed her right arm, quickly twisting it around the girl's back before she realized her intent. "Open the door, Faith. I think you and I need to have a chat."

Giles stepped forward, intending to separate the pair, and said, "Buffy —"

"It's okay, Giles. We're just going to go some place quiet that doesn't have all kinds of breakable things like nearby walls and people," Buffy said. She jerked on Faith's arm and said to her, "Isn't that right?"

"Fu —"

Elizabeth warned, "Language, Faith!"

"Hell yeah," she said, her tone sullen. She opened the door and said, "You can let go, now. I'm up for a dance."

It wasn't until Buffy cleared the threshold that she released Faith and said, "Across the street and north two blocks, there's a small park where we can — dance."

Faith took off, with Buffy close behind. Both ignored the Watchers calling out after them. When Giles realized it was a lost cause, he turned back to get his keys, only to find Annie standing there. "I don't think Mom's in a good mood."

~*~*~

"Sir?"

Travers looked up to see Wesley hovering. He suppressed the urge to sigh, both at the man and his grating attentiveness, and said, "Yes?"

"It's just — I wanted to thank you for giving me this chance to prove myself," he said, looking like nothing so much as an oversized puppy, ready to please a new master. "I know I made one or two small missteps during the Haversham affair, and there really is no —"

"I hardly call setting fire to the west wing of their manor house a small misstep, Wyndam-Pryce," said Travers as he continued glancing through his notes.

Wesley shifted uneasily and said, "Yes, well — there had been a very good —"

"I'm sure there was," Travers said as repressively as possible. He'd read through all reports of the incident, and if he heard one more attempt to explain the disaster, he might well have to open the door of the aircraft, just to escape.

It was apparent that Wesley had picked up on this, because he changed gears and said suddenly, "Do you think we'll see any vampires whilst we're in Sunnydale?"

Looking up finally at the wistful note in his voice, Travers answered, "If Rupert Giles' reports are to be believed, I think it's highly unlikely we'll be able to avoid them."

Wesley smiled at that, looking proud, and said, "Very good indeed. I found my contact with vampires under training conditions to be quite exhilarating. I can hardly wait to see what they're like in the wild — so to speak. It's all very exciting."

~*~*~

"The park's just up ahead," Giles said, slowing down a bit for Elizabeth.

She was having none of it and said, "Go. Don't wait for me. I'll catch up when I've taken these blasted heels off."

Elizabeth stopped on the sidewalk, cursing the impulse she'd had to dress nicely for the day's meeting. If she'd had any sense at all, she would have realized that Faith might pull a stunt like this. She pulled her left shoe off easily enough, but when she went to remove her right, she toppled slightly and overbalanced. She would have gone down but for a steadying hand under her arm.

She looked at Annie and said, "Thank you, my dear," as she finished removing the offending shoe. "Come on. Let's run for it."

When the pair reached the park, they stopped next to Giles, who was looking slightly dazed by the sight in front of them. "Good lord," he murmured.

Elizabeth, a tone of wonder and awe in her voice, said, "Sweet Jesus, she's fast. Was she always that fast?"

"No — not really," he stammered.

Standing between the two Watchers, Annie spoke up at that point, her voice mildly critical as she said, "She's not doing very well. She keeps dropping her left shoulder — see? And she stumbled a little just then. I think it's because she started bleeding."

Both Elizabeth and Giles looked at her, and each started to speak before Elizabeth deferred to Giles. He said, "What do you mean by bleeding?"

Absently, Annie said, "You know — her cycle. It always confuses her a little when it starts."

"She said nothing about needing —" Giles said before cutting himself off.

It was too late, though. Ever helpful, Annie said, "I could smell her when she came back. Ooh! Good one, Mom!"

Elizabeth looked up at Giles, mildly alarmed, and said, "She could —"

"Buffy! Faith! Stop this at once," he called out. As diversions went, it was pathetic, but Giles didn't have much to work with. Neither he nor Buffy had considered how to explain Annie's heritage to the Council, and he had glossed over the issue earlier when talking to Elizabeth and Faith about what he knew of Buffy's history in Hell.

He and Elizabeth stepped forward as one, then stopped, neither with any idea how to get the two Slayers to stop fighting. After a few moments, she said, "Did you have this particular problem with Kendra?"

"Yes, but in that case, Buffy called a truce before any serious damage could be done," he said worriedly.

Still watching, she said, "Any chance she'll call one now?"

Giles looked down at her and said, "You don't sound as if you want her to."

A guilty flush stole up her neck, and she said, "To be honest, I'm not sure I do. Your Slayer, Mr. Giles, is poetry in motion, if you don't mind my saying so. Time has not withered her capacity one bit."

At that, he looked at Buffy again, wincing slightly at a blow she landed on Faith's back, and said with a faint hint of pride and excitement, "It really hasn't, has it? She's certainly faster than she was as a teenager. And just look at that move. But I suppose we should try to put a stop to it."

Annie, who had drifted off to the side for a better view, said, "They look like they're having fun."

~*~*~

"Exciting is hardly the word I would use, Wyndam-Pryce. Perhaps 'dangerous' would be more appropriate, don't you think?" Travers was beginning to think the better solution might be to pitch the boy — man — out of the airplane instead. Reluctantly, he decided that while it would provide an immediate short-term benefit, the elder Wyndam-Pryce would likely raise a fuss.

Wesley flushed when his error was pointed out to him, and he said, "I'm sorry, sir. I had no desire to imply the situation at the Hellmouth is anything other than serious, but you see, part of my dissertation covered how vampires and other demons might react to the presence of significant mystical energies. I thought perhaps that —"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. Unfortunately, I think I must impress upon you the serious nature of the situation in California. The fact that two Slayers now reside there is no cause for celebration," Travers said, noting with no small irony that he was beginning to sound as utterly pretentious as the great uncle for whom he'd been named.

"Of course, sir," stammered Wesley, as he scrambled to explain himself. "It's just that aside from those few controlled circumstances, I haven't really had a chance to — er — get my feet wet. So to speak."

Travers considered hammering the point in a little bit deeper, but some small vestige of sympathy for Wesley remained. 'Besides which,' he thought, as he gazed sternly at the Watcher standing before him, 'if I keep up at this rate, I'll not only be more obnoxious than Uncle Quentin, I might actually surpass Roger.'

Aloud, he said, "Working with a Slayer is a very solemn honor, whether she's new to her responsibilities or has, apparently, managed to survive decades with them."

Wesley frowned at that and said, "But I thought the Council always emphasized the fact that Watchers remain though Slayers die. Doesn't that indicate the Slayer is a weapon, more or less, and that she should be honored to work with us?"

"Of course," said Travers. "But doesn't the warrior who wields a rare sword feel honored to handle it whilst it's in his possession?"

~*~*~

"Say it!" Buffy had her arm around Faith's neck and was beginning to put pressure on her carotids.

"No way!" Every time Faith tried to slip away, Buffy was somehow there, preventing escape.

"I mean it. Say it, and I won't make you pass out," she said, clamping down just a little bit harder. If she were being honest, though, a part of her really didn't want Faith to cry "Uncle!" It had been so long since she sparred for the hell of it that she'd forgotten the joy she'd once found in just letting go without worrying about having to make a kill or a fake kill to get another demon clan on board. Of course, that joy had occasionally driven Giles up the side of a crypt, because she would prolong a fight rather than take a vamp out, but hey, like the song says, girls just wanna have fun.

"Dammit! Fight fair!" Faith was trying to gouge at Buffy's arm, but she was starting to see spots in front of her eyes.

"That what you say to the vamps, Faith? 'Fight fair!' Have to say it's an interesting way of taking them out — making them laugh themselves to death."

Still about fifteen feet away from the action, Elizabeth and Giles were comparing notes. She explained, "Faith isn't usually this bad in a fight. I can't understand why she isn't making a better showing."

"Could be the lack of oxygen," Giles said, continuing his mental countdown to Faith's inevitable drop into unconsciousness.

"No. It's probably the Catraxian blows Mom's been delivering," said Annie.

In what was becoming a familiar move, Giles and Elizabeth turned in perfect synchronization to look at Annie. She said, "I beg your pardon?"

Without looking away from her mother, she answered, "Catraxian blows. Mom spent a couple of years learning them. Hit a person in the right sequence and the right cadence, and you can set up a kind of spasm in their muscles and nerves that slows them down long enough for you to kill them."

The silence from the two Watchers was deafening until she added in a thoughtful tone, "But I'm pretty sure she won't kill Faith."

As he processed Annie's comments, Giles realized it was a minor miracle no one had called the police as yet. As well, if Faith and Buffy were going to patrol that evening, as planned, they needed to be in good shape, not wrung out from fighting each other.

He walked up to Buffy and said, "Let her go."

Without glancing at him, she said, "Not until she asks."

"Do you really want to patrol alone tonight?"

At that, she looked up at him, confused, and said, "What do you mean? She'll be fine. A little oxygen deprivation never hurt anyone."

He raised an eyebrow and said, "What about Catraxian blows?"

Buffy risked a quick look at Annie before she said, "I can't believe my own daughter ratted me out."

"That's what comes of raising a child to be honest," he answered, not in the least bit sympathetic. "If you don't mind, I'd like to get back to the flat so we can have something to eat. You and Faith can play tomorrow, if you like."

Buffy eased the pressure on Faith's neck and said to her, "Mom and Dad say we have to go in now. Same time tomorrow?"

Finally feeling a bit more like herself again, Faith took advantage of Buffy's momentary lapse in attention and flipped her over her shoulder, watching with satisfaction as she bounced once on the soft turf. "Sure thing, JJ," she said with a big smile.

'Maybe this Sunnydale gig won't be so bad after all,' Faith thought, turning away to join her Watcher.

to be continued...