Without Mercy Or Remorse

by Anime-Ronin

FINISHED! What if Xander dressed as the Soldier, but said Soldier’s old mission and skills came back to the forefront of Xander’s mind?

5. Chapter 5A

Chapter 5 A

{AN: Firstly I would like to say that my muse, whom I have lovingly named April, is a complete and total raving madwoman for making me get this story and some of my others as far as they have gone – I never intended to do this story, let alone allowing my Setting Things Right story evolve into what it has, but any who have odd muses know that they do not take to being ignored lightly and trust me I know, for I have the bruises and lumps from her favored Frying Pan Of Doom to prove it. That having been said, I am going to write this chapter, and perhaps one more, to this story and call it good, skipping weeks, sometimes months between skips, but it will hit the high points of the season, which I shall not try to change too much, save for two things. Thanks for listening / reading my rant, AR.}

"Hello, Alexander." Before him, standing like a wraith that had stepped out of the darkness of the shadows, stood Alexander Harris, dressed in a navy blue suit, a white collared shirt, a matching tie and Oxfords, looking decidedly smart and ready for any business venture that he may be present for, but also holding a satchel at his side that was loaded for school.

"Giles." His voice was clear, concise, even a little on the distant side, but also holding a note of confidence that had been lacking when he had first met the boy, "I am here to pick up my books for the year."

"Of course. For the record, though, I do not blame you for what happened at the end of last year, though I fear that Buffy and Willow may see it differently."

"Giles, I hate to break it to you, and even more so to them, but I could care less about what they think about my assault on Angelus in May. He was an obstacle that needed to be removed, so I went about doing so in a manner that could not be construed as ambiguous – he was evil, a vampire to boot, and needed to be destroyed, but instead of that happening, I had rank pulled on me by The Powers That Be on the decision and he was re-souled, a decision that I still question the validity of to this very second. If Willow or Buffy feel the need to be sore about it, they can, but it will not affect me at all in my way or thinking or acting." The words were somewhat clipped, but also academic in nature, as if he had been schooled to speak as informatively and inoffensively as possible over the past few months. "Also, for the record, if Buffy attacks me or has Willow or Jenny attempt any magics on me, I will eliminate her as painlessly as possible – what's done is done and cannot be undone."

Even as he gathered the books and tried to keep his grip on his temper, Giles could see the reasoning behind Alexander's decisions and actions, not to mention his final declaration, "Kill her and you answer to me, child. Understood?"

"Of course. Now that the hostilities are out of the way, how was the summer vacation here on the Hellmouth?"

"Calm, as is usual in the summer lull, but both Kendra and Willow have been training diligently in their vocations as Slayer and Wicca, respectively. Buffy and her mother, along with Dawn, have been on vacation for most of these past few months and returned to Sunnydale two days ago, Jenny has returned from a visit to her family in Europe, I myself was able to go back to England for a week and aside from that, nothing major has happened. How about yourself?"

"Most of it is still classified, Giles, but aside from that I had a very ... informative ... summer vacation."

"Classified?" He knew what the word meant, obviously, but wondered what the boy would have done to warrant such secrecy ... that is until he remembered just with whom he was probably with, "Alexander ... Xander, I must ask you if this in any way concerns Buffy or The Council so that I may prepare for it."

"No, it does not."

"Then can you tell me how it is that you learned from to speak so professionally from?"

"It was always there, Giles, it's just that I've had time to practice without having to wear my mask of The Fool." Anything else that might have been said was stopped when Principal Snyder stormed into the Library, apparently on the warpath.

"Harris! You have some gall showing up here after having been missing all summer. Where have you been?"

Giles was about to come to Xander's defense when he saw the young man give the troll-like principal a glare that could freeze magma, "Where I have or have not been is none of your concern, Principal Snyder, but sufficed to say, I am well, on time and awaiting my books so I can go to class."

"Don't think that you can take that tone with me, you miscreant. I'll have you expelled."

Xander walked up to the troll, taller by a good six inches barefooted, and spoke too softly for Giles to hear, but from the ungodly shade of pale that Principal Snyder turned, it was probably for the best, "Now, leave and go torture some other poor soul that I do not know ... or I shall become decidedly unpleasant." That said, Principal Snyder practically ran out of the Library without looking back.

"My God, Xander, what did you tell him?"

The boy looked at him, his brown eyes masked, "Are you sure you want that answer, Giles?" With the look on his face, Giles had to agree with that, "Now, my books?"

"Yes, this way."

All in all, the initial meeting between himself and Giles went better than expected, especially with the way that Snyder had tried to get his licks in but, instead, got sent away like a scalded dog. He never deluded himself into thinking that his actions last May could be without consequences, it was a given that Buffy tended to act and react more with her head rather than her brain, but that was not something that, at the time, he could fault her for that as he often did the same things himself, but the past few months had taught him that what one would like to happen and what does happen as a result of one's actions are two different critters all together.

Be that as it was, he was still rather surprised that, with books in hand, that when he entered his first class, he was not shot on sight by both Buffy and Willow, both of whom were speaking to Jenny and Kendra, the latter of whom he had conversed with extensively over the past three months via the Internet. Buffy herself shot him murderous glares while Willow only looked more than a little betrayed while both Jenny and Kendra looked at him with an air that could be described as open, yet guardedly optimistic, "Ladies."

"Murderer." "Alexander." "Xander." "CJ." All four spoke at once, the latter of the four, Kendra, using a name that he had inadvertently told her in one of their correspondences and she had yet to let go of.

He looked at Buffy, "He was already dead, Buffy, and so I could not have murdered him."

"Alright, then how about I call you mmph," she got not nothing more as Willow slammed her hand over Buffy's mouth to prevent something truly vile from being said.

"I've been called worse this past summer by people who scare me a hell of a lot more than you do, Buffy." This caused her to blink, not to mention cause the others to blink, which allowed him to go on, "First off I do not regret what happened to that son of a bitch, nor do I regret what I had to do to complete my objective, such as the completion was."

Buffy took Willow's hand away, "You DRUGGED me."

"No, I tranquilized you, Buffy, there is a difference."

"WHY?"

"Moderate your tone of voice, Buffy," he snarled at her, his temper finally getting the best of him. "I did what I had to do because you fucking refused to do your job. You left me with no choice but to resort to what I did, so deal with it."

Buffy surged forwards but he slipped to the side, grabbing her arm and twisting it into a hold that, if more pressure were applied, he would undoubtedly snap her arm like a dry twig, and held her there, "Be advised, Summers, I do not play by your rules, nor do I answer to you. If you want answers, fine, I'll tell you all that you are cleared to know, but if you want to resort to violence, then I will deal with you accordingly." The threat in his voice was clear even to Buffy, as her eyes went wide with shock, and he then released her, pushing her away, "Now, are we going to at least try and be civil, or do I make sure that your death is as painless as possible."

"Xander," Jenny broke in, eyeing the students in the class, all of whom were looking at him as if he were a cross between a rock star and a convicted felon. "Keep such threats quite until we are alone. Now, the lot of you, take your seats and let's get class over with."

Class went fairly smoothly, save for the scoff of indignation from Buffy when Kendra took her seat next to him as her assigned seat. What Jenny was teaching them was fairly easy stuff, simplistic, really, but since the past summer, he had learned a lot of stuff that was much more advanced than what was being taught.

Flashback

"Shit fire and save the matches – it worked!" He looked at the computer screen that he had been working in front of for the past hour and saw the two words that he had been hoping to see 'Password Accepted'.

"Not bad, kid," John said to him, obviously ill at ease with the desk full of cutting edge equipment. "Now, get in and find the file."

"Sure, but shouldn't you be the one doing this, John? I mean, this is your computer and you lost the file in the first place." As an impromptu test, John had made him figure out the password to his new computer instead of just giving it to him.

"Smart ass," John Clark, legend in the CIA, growled – he wasn't the biggest fan of computer technology, but when it served his purpose, it was good. He'd misplaced a file on his computer system at home nearly a week before and the meeting that said file was necessary for was the next morning at 0800.

"Always." He started going through the 'My Computer' files and absently picked a file folder to begin with, "So, how're Sandy and Patsy?"

"Good – Patsy just entered her graduate school work and Patsy is working late tonight, so you don't have to worry about coming across her again." Xander could hear the laughter in John's voice even as he found the file in question.

"Go ahead and yuk it up, John, but as I recall, YOU weren't the one who had to explain to your wife why her husband was suddenly a sixteen year old kid for a few hours when he was supposed to be a genetic jackhammer."

"True," John said as the printer began to whir to life and spit out page after page, "but then again, YOU were the one who didn't do what was expected of me."

"She wasn't MY WIFE, John. Hell, me even being in that ... position, was probably as close to Adultery as I ever hope to get!" He absently relocated the file to where it was supposed to be and glared at John, "Next time, make sure that you know which file folder you put your stuff under, or I'm going to make you find it yourself."

"Don't sass me, boy, or I'll make sure that Mary Pat has you picking up casings and targets at the range for the next month at The Farm." The Farm was the name of the place that the CIA trained its agents at in the basics of being an agent, and it was a place that Xander had been for the past two weeks. It turned out that not only had he gotten John Kelly's military training and mental discipline, but he had also gotten more than a little of his covert operative training at The Farm, training that he was going through again and updating as a refresher. (AN: I watched 'The Recruit' a while back and this is about all I remember)

Xander snorted, "She'd do that anyway – I can't prove it, but I think she has it out for me." In his first go-round with the lie detector, he had come out smelling like a rose even when he lied affirmative to the question of 'Did you assassinate JFK' and the computer showed that he was telling the truth – this had gotten him more than a few chuckles from the rest of the recruits that had been in the room, but it had also helped him cement that name that had been tagged on him when he'd been introduced to the testing room by John, who had said, 'He reminds me of me at that age' ... Clark Junior, or CJ. Since then, Mary Pat had been on his case to know just how he had beaten the test and tossed him head-first into every test she and the teachers sent their way.

"Maybe, but then again, maybe not. You never know with her."

End Flashback

Class ended quickly and he went along with this day, going form class to class and finding that Kendra was in all of them, yet Buffy and Willow only shared his Computer Science course, and for that, both of them, he was happy – Kendra had begun to open up and be more like a regular teenage girl her age over the past few months, apparently, and they held a good rapport between each other. Of course, the fact that she was drop-dead gorgeous and the accent didn't hurt matters at all, but he was also not looking forwards to the poor schmuck who tried to ask her out – he was still more than a little protective of the café-au-late Slayer and would probably introduce the guy to his boot anally if said guy ever hurt her.

That aside, classes went normally until it was time for lunch – he was in line to get one of the school favorites, pizza and French fry basket, when Willow came over and dragged him out of line, across the cafeteria and into the Library by his tie, stopping only long enough to grab his book bag along the way. Once in the library, she turned and glared at him, "Alright, mister, just where in the heck have you been all summer? Why did you leave without telling any of us where you were going? Who dressed you like that? Why are you ANSWERING ME?"

"Virginia, because I was more than a little pissed off that I couldn't dust the son of a bitch, Sandy Clark picked out this suit for me and because I can't get in a word edge-wise?" Even though he had meant the answer to be serious, both Jenny and Kendra both suppressed a bout of giggles while Giles coughed in amusement and Buffy sat stone-faced in her chair, but a hint of humor was in her eyes even as he loosed his tie a little and rubbed his neck, "Anything else, Mein Fuhrer?"

Willow's eyes went dangerously flat at that, "Don't even joke about that, Xander."

"Then stop acting like that, Willow. I did what I did and there isn't a damned thing anyone in this room can do about it, so drop it and let's move on." She was giving him her best glare so he set his features into a stone mask that he had perfected over the past three months and it stayed there even as hers began to falter as the minutes passed.

"Fine, you win, for now." She went to a seat and sat down, crossing her arms and huffing petulantly, "So, how about some answers?"

"How about some real questions, then."

Buffy was the first to speak up, her voice cold, "Were you jealous of what Angel and I had?"

"No. I had no intention of breaking you two up as long as he kept his soul, but once that went away, he was fair game. Next question?"

"Where were you all summer?"

"Just outside of Langely, Virginia at The Farm for the most part, Giles."

"What is the farm?"

"Jenny, that is The Farm, capital letters, and what it is, is classified."

"Did you bring us back any gifts?" Everyone, himself included, looked at Kendra, who blushed, "What? Isn't dis de part where de gifts are presented?"

"Later, Kendra." He could only smile at her well-placed interruption, knowing that she had more than a few one-liners in her mind, ready to go (he should, he taught her most of them).

"What did you do at this Farm you were at?"

"Train, Willow – everything that Clark knew, I know and I updated all of that and more." He had to keep what they knew about what he knew simple.

"And what, precisely, did you learn?"

"That's classified, Giles."

"We want an answer, Xander."

"I don't care if you want an answer, Buffy, but what I know and have learned is classified and protected by the Official Secrets Act." (AN: I know that I'm stretching what it really is, but it looks good.) He stood up against a chair and smiled, "Face it, I have secrets that I can't tell you – deal with it and move on." He could see the scowls on Buffy and Willow's faces, yet it didn't faze him too much – rules were rules.

"Can we have de presents now?" Kendra had, apparently, been learning the puppy dog eyes from Dawn, his favored student, and turned them full-force on him while Jenny and Giles chuckled.

"I don't know - have you been a good Slayer?" She nodded emphatically and he reached down into his bag and grabbed at wrapped book, "You told me that you wanted a copy of this, so I got you one, Kendra."

She took the gift, tore into it and beamed at the title of the book – Green Eggs And Ham, "Thank you, Alexander. I wanted dis for a while, now, but my Watcher didn't tink dat it would be good for me to read." (AN: Had to break the seriousness there)

"No problem, Kendra – I have a half-dozen others for you back at my condo." At that, she positively beamed. "Any other questions that I might be able to answer something other than 'Classified'?"

"What do you plan to do now that you're back, Xander?" Buffy sounded oddly distant as she spoke, as if she was dreading the answer, "Are you going to start patrolling again?"

"Maybe, but I haven't patrolled since before last Halloween, Buff. You patrol, I recon/hunt/raid – two different mindsets there." With the equipment that he had already, not to mention some contacts that he now had because of John, he could do more than before. "You have your job and I willingly do mine."

Buffy was quiet for a moment before speaking, her voice defeated and somewhat petulant, "I can't stop you, can I?"

"Do I need to dignify that question with a response?"

"Do you HAVE to use guns? I don't like them!"

He sighed, "We've been through this before, Buffy – I don't have Slayer strength, speed or healing, so I do not like the idea of giving up an advantage of actually surviving a night of hunting vampires just so you can feel better." She flinched back, obviously hurt by his words, but not so much by the tone, but rather by the truth in the statement.

"Fine, for now." Giles stepped in at that point, apparently not wanting anything else to be said that might leave injured feelings and broken bodies, "Now, what of your schooling and your living conditions?"

Xander shrugged, "I still have my condo and I am here, aren't I? John and Jack both want me to finish high school at least before I start working for them or go into the military."

"Military? Why the military?"

Again he shrugged, "You ever heard of the term 'black ops', Jenny? Most of the guys in The Agency start off there and then get a lateral transfer over or get hired on after they are discharged." The lateral transfer part was true enough, but the second rarely happened due to the fact that the possible operatives just want to become civilians again.

"Very well," Giles went on, cleaning his glasses. "If you do feel the need to help, Xander, please limit yourself to non-fully-automatic weapons, for I do not feel like trying to explain the damage that would occur if Buffy got her hands on them." At that, Xander also had to shudder even as Buffy made an affronted noise, Willow snorted politely, Kendra, Slayer of evil lamps, openly laughed and Jenny wasn't far behind her.

Even as he grinned at Giles he could hear Buffy grumbling about there being no justice in the world.

{Three weeks later}

With the better part of a month of school out of the way, Xander was surprised how well things were going – sure, there had been one or two bozos that had tried to end the world, one of whom even tried to kill Jenny for being a witch, but aside from that, nothing major. There was, however, some tension about as Giles had been keeping to himself something that was starting to worry Xander – while he and the Briton were not exactly best guy friends, there was a certain level of respect there that dictated that there be no bullshit between them, and it was that level of respect that made Xander act, "Alright, Giles, what's wrong?"

"Wrong?" The librarian tried to pass it off as if it were nothing, but finally he failed and sighed, "I just got a call from the Council that the Watcher of the new Slayer, Faith Williams, had been killed by a Master Vampire by the name of Kakistos. As if that were not enough, Faith is now missing and the Council cannot find her."

Xander frowned, his mind going ninety to nothing about how to find her and what she might do, "Does she know about you and Buffy being here in Sunnydale?"

Giles nodded, "I believe so and I also believe that she may be on her way right here now, but what if she is in danger?"

"She's a Slayer, Giles ... of course she's in danger." It was a known fact that Slayers could purposefully find trouble almost as quickly as he could accidentally, which was rather depressing when he thought about it, "Look, where was the last place she was known to be?"

"Boston, leaving by bus." Giles looked at him even as he went to the phone and pulled out his wallet, "What are you doing?"

Xander didn't answer even as he punched in a series of digits and waited until the line connected, "Generations Incorporated."

"John Devon, please."

"I'm sorry, he's not in right now."

"Delta, Omicron, Lambda, Echo 2, 2, 3, 9, Alpha, Green."

There was a slightly pregnant pause before the voice came back, deadly serious, "One moment, Mister Alexander." There was a slightly elongated pause before a man's voice came onto the line, "Yes, Mister Alexander?"

"Missing young woman, fifteen or sixteen years old out of Boston, Mass, on a bus and heading towards my HQ." With Giles' help he gave John Devon a fairly accurate description of her, "Answers to Faith Williams – find her and get her here to me, please."

"Of course, Mister Alexander." The line went dead and he hung up the phone.

"Who was that, Xander?" He turned to see that Jenny, Kendra, Buffy and Willow had shown up, not to mention Dawn, who was being forcibly restrained by Buffy and Kendra from getting to him, and all of them looked worried.

"Business associate I've got looking for the new Slayer." He let Giles fill them in on the details and caught the hyper-velocity projectile named Dawn that came his way when Kendra's grasp failed slightly, hugging the young girl to his chest while she did her best to hug him in half again.

Buffy and Kendra both looked pale at the thought of being alone, having watched their Watcher die, but the former recovered half of a second before the latter, "What's going to happen to her?"

Giles cleaned his glasses before answering, "At my best guess, she will be given to me as a charge until another Watcher is assigned to her."

"Where will she live?" Jenny came to rest beside him and affectionately stroked Dawn's hair, who for her part seemed to purr at the attention she was getting.

"I am unsure, Jenny. Normally I would offer her a spare bedroom, but as it stands I no longer have one. Either the Council will give her a supply of money to get a motel room or perhaps one of you could put her up?"

"No free rooms at my place," Buffy said somewhat too quickly and with a shrug.

"I too am out of room with the recent shipment of books and spell components that my family has sent me." Jenny sounded slightly sheepish at the admission, but also somewhat depressed.

"What about you, Xand?" Dawn looked up into his eyes and he knew that he'd probably cave to whatever she asked for, "Can she stay at your place?"

While it was true that he had a spare room, not nearly as opulent as his own bedroom, it was worth a shot, "If she agrees to it, then yeah, she ca –AN!" He felt her death grip on him tighten by a factor of ten at his words, forcing more than a little air out of his lungs, "Dawnie? I need to breathe." Somewhat reluctantly, she let go and the phone rang at that point, "Hello?"

"She's in St. Louis and won't be leaving until tomorrow." The phone went dead and he felt his resolve steel.

"I'm going after her." He ruffled Dawn's hair and was nearly to the door when Buffy and Kendra both caught an arm.

"Where is she?"

"St. Louis and not leaving until tomorrow. If I can get there, she'll be here by then with me and it'll save a lot of trouble for all parties involved."

"My word," Giles muttered, "that was fast."

Xander shrugged, "The CIA doesn't employ anyone who isn't the best in their field." When Buffy and Kendra let go, he was out of the library in a shot and racing to his place. Once there, he packed a bag and was off to the local airport, thinking of the last time he had been in this kind of rush to get anywhere.

Flashback

He'd been out of The Farm for less than a day and was already on the hop – John had gotten him roped into some kind of detail that he wasn't too sure about, but regardless it was an assignment and he had to be at a hotel in less than ten minutes with more than fifteen minutes of driving time ahead of him.

"Fuck it." Hauling the wheel to the right, he slammed the accelerator down on the 1990 Honda he'd gotten for a song as a way to get back and forth to work and shot out of the nearly stopped traffic down the emergency lane. What he was doing was highly illegal, but he had a deadline to meet and he'd be damned if he would be late on his first day, so he took a risk that actually paid off in dividends as he got to a parking lot and found a relatively nice place quickly, getting to the hotel with a whole minute to spare even as an elevator dinged open and out walked John, "Made it."

"That you did," the older spy said with a grin on his face the told Xander that it had a) been a test and b) been something that he might end up regretting. "Harrison, meet Mr. Jacob Delgobwi, ambassador from Africa, and this is his daughter, Jessica." Jacob Delgobwi was an older man, maybe in his late fifties, but also fairly slender, of European descent, with thinning gray hair, bright blue eyes, a finely tailored suit and a huge smile while his daughter was in her mid teens, also fairly slender, but more athletic than anything, with a tinge of African descent, dark brown hair, light brown eyes, wearing jeans, a halter top, sunglasses and carrying a large handbag that probably held every cosmetic she would need for a small excursion into the Amazon Basin, and a petulant pout.

"Mr. Drlgobwi, ma'am." He shook the Ambassador's hand but found that Jessica was less inviting as she just snarled at him, "My assignment, Mr. Clark?"

John smiled hugely and Xander knew that he'd been had, "You, Harry, get to chaperone Jessica around until noon, when you and she will need to be back here so that she and her father can catch a flight back to South Africa."

"Daddy, he looks boring!" Jessica may have been fifteen, or so, but she sounded so much like Dawn in a petulant mood that it wasn't even funny, "I'll bet he only looks young, so that's why he's stuck with me."

"He's seventeen, Jessica," Ambassador Delgobwi said with some steel in his voice, "and from what Mr. Clark says, he is a very nice young man."

"That's what the mother of my supposedly future wife thinks." This got him three looks of curiosity and he elaborated, "Dawn, the little sister of a good friend, is eleven and things that she and I will get married when she's legal." This got a look of shock out of John, a slight smile out of the Ambassador and a giggle out of Jessica, whom he looked at, "Any parameters, Mr. Clark?"

"No, not really, but we will have teams tailing you, so try to stay out of trouble."

He shot a winning smile at John, "Come on, Mr. Clark, this is me we're talking about."

John chuckled, "That's why I'm telling you to be careful – you get into more trouble by accident than I can on purpose."

Even as the Ambassador looked worried and Jessica looked him over once again, as if re-appraising what he was worth, Xander chuckled, "Why Mr. Clark, if I didn't know any better, I would take that statement to mean that I can't stay out of trouble."

"Exactly who was it that caught that purse snatcher when we got here with 'The Clothesline From Hell' followed up by an ankle lock?"

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Two hours later in the testing you buried two pencils into hidden cameras in the room, cameras that hadn't been detected in nearly ten years?"

He yawned, "Please, that was child's play."

"Perhaps, but you still avoid my wife."

He cringed, "Alright, you've got me on that one." In the background, he could hear Jennifer's laughing while Ambassador Delgobwi sounded as if he were seriously attempting to cough up a lung.

End Flashback

He looked out of the airliner as it approached St. Louis, thinking with a smile of the 'quick' trip down memory lane, and settled himself in for landing, which went off without a hitch. When he got down, he'd contact Devon and get a tighter fix on Faith, hoping that she was alright, and then he and she would be off to Sunnydale on a red-eye because he had a test in Chemistry in third class the next day and wasn't looking forwards to it.

The dust settled from the last vampire meeting it's end as he looked across the alleyway at her, eyes raking her figure even as she did the same – she was, beyond a shadow of a doubt, one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen (Slayers not included – being hot was a prerequisite), taking second place behind Jenny Calendar, clad in leather pants, a red halter top and a loose biker's jacket, a stake in one hand and the other curled into a fist, "Faith Williams?"

"Maybe – you are?"

"A friend."

"Maybe I don't want a friend."

He grinned easily, "Well, I never said I was your friend, but if you would like, I could rectify that easily. Alexander Harris."

She nodded and took several small steps forwards, "Wicked piece you have there."

He tucked the suppressed .22 away under his own jacket and shrugged, "Hey, if it keeps me from looking like a bruised melon, I'll fight with whatever I have – we all can't be Slayers like you."

She froze, "What are you talking about?"

"Rupert Giles sent me to pick you up and bring you to Sunnydale." He was sure that G-man wouldn't mind the slight fib, "I've got us booked on a red- eye to Sunnydale in two hours, if you're willing. If not, I also have you a straight shot to the Dale by bus."

Her dark eyes narrowed slightly, "How do I know that I can trust you? What if you're with the Council?"

He laughed and then looked down at his clothes, consisting of jeans, a t- shirt, a jacket and boots, "I don't think a Watcher would be caught dead in jeans, Faith, and even if they were, do I sound like a Watcher?"

She smiled a little at that, "Well, you don't sound like you have a rod up your ass, that's for sure." Her voice then took a snooty tone, "I say, get me a scone you colonial, you."

"Hmm, Faith, I think you and I will get along well, especially if you are half as annoying to the British population as I am." He offered her his hand and she took it tentatively, shaking it with a firm grim that he initiated, "Now, do you have clothes that we need to pick up?"

She nodded and went over to the side of a dumpster, "Those vamps caught me on the way to a motel." She didn't have much more than a backpack and a duffle bag, but both appeared to be only about three quarters full apiece.

"We'll stop on the way back ad get you some clothes, if you'd like." He saw her look and he went on, "Have you graduated school yet?"

She shrugged, "Nah, I figured that as the Slayer I wouldn't last that long."

"We'll see about that, Faith. I won't let Slayers die on my watch, and I'll do whatever I have to, to keep you, Kendra and Buffy alive."

She looked at him oddly, "They're alive? How's that possible, 'cause I thought that they had to die to call the next one of us."

He smiled, "They did die, but Buffy was drowned and brought back from CPR while Kendra was electrocuted and also brought back via CPR." He then looked over at her, "Please don't make me go for the hat trick as far as CPR goes – I didn't sleep well at all after either event."

She nudged him with an elbow, "Well, I'll do my best, but no promises. I like to live on my terms, and I'll die on my terms too."

He arched an eyebrow at her even as they left the alley that they had been fighting in, "Adrenalin junkie, huh? Cool."

She shrugged as they went towards a small hub of activity, but then blushed as her stomach made itself known to the world with a monstrous growl, "Um, can we get something to grub on first?"

He grinned at her, "I think I could force myself to eat something."

"So let me get this straight – she screwed a vamp and then wouldn't stake him?" At Faith's insistence, he had started to give her the lo-down on what had gone down in Sunnydale, and apparently Buffy's escapades with Angelus were a major sticking point. Faith then shook her head, "Man, she must have been hard up to sleep with one of them. I mean, why not choose you?"

He blushed lightly at that, then chuckled, "Nah, I was the original geek when she met me, and I am her, quote, 'Xander-shaped friend'. Besides," he went on while munching on a few fries, "I might have once, but those days are long gone, Faith."

She chewed a mouthful of hamburger and spoke, "She missed the boat, huh?" She swallowed the food and went on after sucking down half of her Coke and nabbing a few fries, obviously enjoying the meal that he had paid for, "Her loss, our gain."

He chuckled again, sitting back in the booth and swirling some ketchup with a fry, "Maybe, Faith. So, when we get to Sunny D, I'm going to drop you off at my place so you can get some z's, but then I gotta get to school – tests suck. After school, I'll pick you up and we'll see G-man at the Library and hammer out all the details of where you're going to stay, who trains you, stuff like that."

She smirked, "Why can't you train me, X? I mean, he's already got two Slayers on his plate and I'll already be at your place ... unless you don't want me there." Her eyes carefully hid the fact, but he could see the scared feelings she was having about being put out on a street that she didn't know, especially in Vamp Central.

"You're welcomed there as long as you have a pulse, Faith," he assured her as he nibbled at the fry he had been doodling in the ketchup with. "All you have to do is go to school and slay the vamps – aside from that, your free time is your own. So Faith, tell me about yourself and what you like to do?"

She shrugged, "Not much I'm really good at aside from Slaying, really. Mom's dead, Lynda's dead, dad can roast in hell for all I care, and aside from people thinking I'm a whore from the word go because of the way I dress, I don't have too many friends."

He winced at her somewhat defeated tone and reached out his hand, covering her hand impulsively and squeezing it slightly. She smiled at him a little and squeezed it back before speaking again, "What about you, stud? What do you like to do?"

He shrugged, "Off the clock I like to watch Saturday morning cartoons with a large bowl of Coco Puffs to munch on, I prefer Twinkies as my food of choice, I slay vampires through unconventional means and I do my best to corrupt the younger sister of Buffy Summers with my quick wit, lame jokes and odd sense of humor." She chuckled at that and he then went on, "On the clock I can't tell you what I do – it's classified and that pisses Buffy off to no end."

"Classified?"

"Central Intelligence Agency – I figure that seeing we'll be working together, there will be times that I'll do things out of the norm and you should have an answer to some of those things." He shrugged at her slightly awed look, "I work for them on an as-needed basis until I graduate, and then we're going to get into serious negotiating about what I am going to do."

"So let me get this straight, you're James freaking Bond, 007, martini, shaken, not stirred?"

"No, I'm not him – there is only one Bond and he was played by Sean Connery." (AN: Testify, son, though Pierce B. does have big shoes to fill, and Q will never be replaced) "Also, Bond was MI: 6 and part of Her Majesty's SAS – I work for the CIA and was trained by a SEAL."

"So you can kill people with spoons and stuff, right?" She was practically bouncing in place, which provided a nice image all together, and grinning as she picked up the salt shaker, "Or this?" Frankly, she was acting like Dawn and he couldn't help but laugh at her a little.

"I prefer not to kill people, Faith – too many questions to answer and the paperwork involved is murder in and of itself." With a wince, he remembered that particular mountain he had to climb.

Flashback

He sighed, "It was either me or him, John, and I chose to live." He and Jessica Delgobwi had been on their way to the hotel to meet her father, as they were supposed to, when a van had pulled up and a man jumped out, grabbing Jessica. All in all it was a very bad 'snatch-and-go' job gone horribly wrong as Jessica was on the wrong side (away from the van) for it to work, she was not a shirking violet to begin with and the kidnapper obviously didn't know what he was doing. Long story short, the kidnapper and driver pulled guns, Xander had pulled his and the shootout left the kidnapper dead, the driver wounded and Jessica shaking like a leaf while he had a bullet hole in his new suit that Sandy was going to kill him for.

"That's not the point, kid – I don't care if you used deadly force, but company policy says that when you are on domestic soil and use your weapon in non-sanctioned manners, you fill out this small mountain of paperwork in triplicate. Now start writing." John dropped the small ream of paper on his desk and grinned, "If you hurry up, I'll see if Sandy can save you some of her lasagna for when you get back."

Xander mentally weighed the options – do paperwork quickly and get dinner, but also have to explain bullet hole to the woman who picked out the suit, or set new snail pace for paperwork, get dinner out of the vending machine (again – he held the title for 'King Heat 'n Eat') and not have to explain to Sandy about how the hole had gotten into his suit jacket, "Sorry, boss, but stick it in the fridge – I'm going to be here a while. The Ambassador wants to have a sit down with me for drinks and I told him I'd call him when I got done here."

"So, you're choosing to avoid Sandy." The voice belonged to another Agent that had gone through training with him and was seated in the cubical next to him – her name was Joy Suarez, born and raised in New Mexico, just out of University of Santa Fe when The Company came calling, and she was quite possibly the best friend that Xander had in the world that was near his age at that point in time. Her most striking feature was her hair and her ability to tie cherry stems in knots with her toung, a trick she proved one night at a local bar when they had a test there and got seven marriage proposals on the spot, and somehow they had ended up being very good friends.

"Wouldn't you?" It was also a running joke among the new trainees that Sandy Clark was the mother hen to end all mother hens; she mothered him a great deal, but had seemed to take Joy under her wing, as it were.

Even as John left, snickering, Joy stuck her head over the cubical top and grinned, her dark brown eyes sparkling with mirth as she smiled at him, using her arms as a pad for her head, "You have issues, Xander. It's not a wonder that all of the other trainees thought that we were sleeping together."

He grinned at her and began to fill out the paperwork, "You also showing up in my bed, dressed in naught but a smile and refusing to leave, might have had something to do with that."

She sniffed, "I was also drunk as a Lord, Xander." Then she grinned, "Besides, you didn't seem to mind."

He looked up at her as if he was crazy, "Joy, you are a beautiful woman who was, at the time, naked and wanted to sleep in the same bed with me, not to mention my friend, and did I mention that you were hot?" He chuckled as she giggled, a sound that she had told him that she hated due to the fact that she sounded like Minnie Mouse, "Now, beautiful, let me get to work." He looked at the paperwork and sighed, "Or I'll never get to the machine before those yahoos in R & D get all of the good stuff."

End Flashback

"Yo, X!" Faith snapped her fingers in front of his face and he started back, eyes focusing on her own worried eyes, "You alright, man?"

"Yeah, sorry, Faith." She shook her head and he went on, "Just remembering the amount of work I had to do when I capped a guy a month and a half ago."

Faith sobered at this, her face somewhat pale, "Oh, so you weren't joking?"

"No, I shot and killed one man, wounded another, stopping them from kidnapping a visiting Ambassador's daughter." He ate another fry and sat back again, "All said and done it took a little over four seconds from when they pulled up to when I fired my first shot, killing the first guy, and the second guy was shot out of reflex when he went for a gun." He looked up into her eyes, "Doing things like that isn't easy, and no, the others don't know about it, so I'd appreciate it if you don't tell them."

She worked her mouth a few times before speaking again, this time in a softer tone, "Do you regret it? Having to shoot, I mean?"

"No. Tango One was trying to kidnap the daughter of an Ambassador that I was charged to protect by any and all means necessary and available – he had a gun and it was a righteous shoot. Tango Two, however, I am sorry I shot. I should have hit him higher in the chest and he would have dropped like a rock, just like in training." He ran a finger through the ketchup and then stuck it in his mouth, sucking the condiment off of his finger, "'Rule Four: NEVER shoot to wound – shoot to KILL,' is what was drilled into us when we were in training. If we ever had to take a shot, it was to be a kill shot and nothing more."

"Sounds like you've got serious baggage, X." Faith took his hand this time and squeezed it lightly, "You ever need to talk, let me know."

He grinned, "Sure thing, F. Now, let's get to the stores before our flight leaves. Tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"So you're Faith."

"And you're Buffy."

"And I am Kendra."

He looked over at Giles and slowly began to inch away from the impending explosion, doing his best to stop the snicker that was threatening from Kendra's well-timed quip from between Buffy and Faith.

Buffy looked Faith up and down and then smirked, "What were the Powers thinking when they chose you as The Slayer?"

"Maybe they were thinking 'Anybody has to be better than that Summers girl,'" Faith shot back with a truly nasty smile. Giles took that moment to join him in the inching away, both of them avoiding eye contact as much as possible and hoping for the explosion to not catch them.

"Don't t'ink dat I miss you two." Kendra turned and smiled at them, halting their progress with a feral smile. "You de Watcher here, Giles, an' you started dis by introducin' them to one another, Xander."

Giles glared at him, "While I appreciate you trying to help Kendra with her sense of humor, Xander, I must ask that you also help her with knowing when to leave us out of Slayer problems."

"Next thing on the list, Giles." He knew that letting the two Slayers get into a territorial pissing match, which is what Faith and Buffy were basically doing, would be a bad idea, but he didn't want to lose another lamp to a new Slayer trying to kill the old Slayer. "Um, ladies, can we please dispense with the hostilities?"

"As soon as she figures out that I am Alpha around here, Xan," Buffy said off-handedly, which raised the hackles on the back of his neck. HE, of everyone, was ALPHA of this pack, but he chose to only growl internally.

"Buffy, face the fact and accept that you are not the only Slayer on the block anymore." Jenny tossing in her two cents helped things immediately when Buffy turned and growled at her, which caused Jenny to sneer, "Oh, please, Xander has a much more impressive growl, so don't try and go Cave- Slayer on me."

"Go, X-man, scoring with the dark-haired teacher!" Faith, it seemed to him, did like to stir up trouble a little with the looks he got from both Willow and Giles, but also from the look of pure venom he got from Buffy.

"What're you doing with Miss Calendar, Xander? Do I have to get you neutered or something?"

THAT was WAY-Y-Y out of line, so he growled audibly and proved Jenny right – his growl was MUCH more impressive than Buffy's, "What I do and whom I do it with is none of your concern, bottle blonde, and if you even think about getting near my boys like that, you'd better PRAY you are bulletproof."

"Everybody step back and take a breath here," Oz stepped in, keeping his cool, it seemed, though one could never tell with him. He then looked over at Faith and nodded, "Oz."

She nodded and returned in his same monosyllabically tone of voice, "Faith." She then smiled, "So, Oz, how long have you known X over here?"

Ox shrugged, "Almost a year."

"Any dirt you can dish on him?"

"Buffy's sister Dawn wants to marry him and have his kids." It did his ego somewhat good to hear somebody other than Dawn saying that, but he wasn't too sure if Oz saying that was going to keep him alive any longer than the already short amount of time he had left.

Faith looked over at him and smiled, "What would she do if I decided to steal you away from her?"

He couldn't help it, he grinned right back at her and waggled his eyebrows, "Should we find out?"

Faith smiled a bit more at that and then looked at Buffy, who looked shocked, and then at Kendra, who was smiling hugely, before looking back at him, "A girl likes a date first, then marriage, unless you knock her up first."

"Let's avoid the knocking up for now – we are both in high school, aren't we?"

Her grin grew even more, "Let's talk more later, Xan, 'cause we have patrol now." She linked her arm into his and together they were out of the door on the hop, ready to deal death and dust to all vampires they came across.

(AN: I am a little fuzzy about the chronology of when this takes place, but as Faith has shown up quicker, I'm going to play with this one too – Joyce and Dawn are not kidnapped by Travers and his ilk)

Normally being in the same room with Rupert Giles was a fairly standard thing, but this time it was all that Xander could do to keep his hand from going for the suppressed .22 under his left shoulder, "Alright, I want to know right the fuck now what you did to Buffy. No stalling, no bullshit, NOW!"

Giles took a seat in his chair and sighed, "It is a test, long since forgotten but recently reinstated by Quinton Travers, my boss, as it were. A Slayer is stripped of her powers on her eighteenth birthday and made to fight a vampire – if she survives, then she is truly a Slayer."

He said nothing for a second and then removed his .22 and walked to the door of Giles' office, opened it and handed the gun to Faith, who looked worried, "Keep this out of my hands until this is over." That said, he shut the door and looked at Giles, "Where is she?"

"I cannot tell you, Xander."

Something flipped in his mind and Xander took a back seat – Alexander was now in charge, "WHERE. IS. SHE!"

"Even if I do tell you, there is nothing you can do – they are English nationals and they have diplomatic immunity. Short of killing them you can do nothing and I know for a fact that you will not stoop to such things."

In a flash he was hauling Giles up by the tie he wore and had the Watcher within an inch of his own face, snarling, "You know nothing about me, Watcher. You and everyone else in there haven't got the first fucking CLUE what I am capable of." He dropped Giles into his seat, the man looking decidedly pale, and went on, "And trust me, neither does the Council – they have never met a man like me, not even in their worst nightmares." That said, he walked out of the office and went to the desk, grabbing the phone and dialing a number from memory.

"Clark."

"Hey, Boss. I need to get some Diplomatically Immune British assholes off of our soil before they kill a friend of mine – whom do I call?"

"Whoa, kid. Tell me what's going on." Alexander told him in broad strokes and he could literally hear John's blood pressure going through the roof, "Alright, I'm going to make a few calls – don't do anything that I wouldn't do."

Alexander gave a death's head grin to the phone receiver, "Then hurry up if you want anything more than corpses to find, John." He hung up the phone and turned, looking at Joyce and Dawn's scared faces, "Are you two going to be okay?"

Dawn nodded but Joyce looked at him, "What are you going to do, Xander?"

His face grew grim as he took his gun back from Faith and Giles walked out of his office, very pale, "What I always do, Joyce – what nobody else can." That said, he walked out of the Library and double-timed it to his condo, where he pulled out his M-4, suppressor and several other odds and ends when his phone rang, "Go."

"This is against my better judgment, Xander," Giles went on for a second, and then told him where the Curcitacium (spelling?) was happening. "Do whatever is in your best judgment." That done, he hung up.

Alexander sat there for a moment and contemplated what was about to happen – he was about to go on what amounted to a HRS (hostage rescue situation), a SAD (search and destroy) for a vampire, and possibly terminate several Diplomatically Immune members of a sovereign nation with extreme prejudice, and for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel anything at all in regards to the value of human life. That fact scared the hell out of him.

"Who are you?" Quinton Travers lay on the ground, bleeding from several deep wounds in his arms and legs from where the homicidally insane vampire had gotten ahold of him, but just appeared to be too damned stubborn to die.

"Snake." He had the two remaining Watchers under the gun, literally, with his carbine covering them as Buffy did her best to use his body and haul herself up to a standing position.

"We have diplomatic immunity, child. You cannot do this."

Alexander could only grin as Buffy got to a vertical base, "Actually, I can – my boss knows what I am doing and told me to, quote, not do anything that he wouldn't do, end quote."

"And your boss' name is what, precisely?"

"John Clark." It was almost comical to see Travers' face to go as ashen as it did, but he also figured that the blood loss had something to do with it, "Fortunately for you, Travers, I also have standing orders to not terminate anyone without a direct order from my superiors, and as he did not order me to kill you ..." Alexander slung his carbine out of the way and held up Buffy's sagging body. "You have twenty-four hours to leave the United States of America in its entirety. If you fail to do so in the allotted time or ever come back within our borders without our authorization, you will be arrested on sight by the FBI and put on trial immediately for violating our borders. Personally, I wouldn't expect too much help from home and Sir Basil Covington, myself – as I understand he is MOST upset at what has been found out about your Watcher's Council, you in particular, Travers, and will be speaking to you at some length about it ... if you ever make it home, that is."

"You would kill us?" One of the other Watchers, whom had identified himself as Wesley Wyndam-Price, spoke somewhat hesitantly and looked as if he were going to piss himself.

"Personally, yes, but as I said, I have orders not to." He picked Buffy's weight up and walked towards the door, through the ashes of the formerly homicidal vampire that he had killed before it could snack on Buffy, "Take my advice and get the hell out of Dodge now." That said, he walked out of the old warehouse that the 'test' had been performed with Buffy in his arms and went back to the Library, confident in the fact that either way, he had won.

Over the next two days he still felt confident even as the Scooby Gang showed signs of implosion – Joyce had torn Giles a new one after he told her what he had done / been forced to do to Buffy, Buffy wouldn't stop crying on Willow's shoulder, Dawn wouldn't leave his side for anything, Kendra and Faith were sniping at each other and even Oz seemed to be showing signs of stress. In fact, the only two who weren't doing much of anything were himself and Jenny – he was too busy trying to keep Dawn from crying and she was having a bit of a crisis as far as her family went (apparently something was going on that she didn't want to tell anyone about).

Finally, on the third day, a Monday of all days, things came to a head when John Clark and an immaculately dressed gentleman of older years walked into the Library in the middle of the day; Kendra and Faith were both hoeing into their lunches, Buffy wasn't more than a few inches away from Willow, who looked miserable and water logged, he was doing some homework and Giles was cataloguing some books, "Hiya, kid."

"John, what brings you here?"

John stood a little straighter, "I would like to present to you Sir Basil Covington, of England, and he has something that he would like to tell you, Agent Harrison Alexander."

Even as he hopped to his feet, the others were looking at each other oddly as the older man, Sir Covington, walk forwards, "Agent Alexander, I would like to inform you that due to your swift actions and dogged efforts, we have arrested Quinton Travers and his ilk for crimes against the Crown, Child Endangerment, Child Exploitation and several other crimes that I shall not mention in the presence of ladies. Moreover, I would like to offer you the heartfelt thanks of Her Majesty for bringing to light these atrocities that have gone on for far too long." They shook hands and he then went on, "Personally I would have shot the git myself."

He felt a grin grow on his face, "Have you not read the papers as of late, Sir Covington?" He reached into his backpack and removed a day-old edition of the London Times, showing the face of Quinton Travers under the caption 'TRAVERS ARRESTED AT HEATHROW WITH CONTROLED SUBSTANCES', "He had nearly twenty kilos of crystal meth, some China White and even a few hits of acid, according to what the papers released." He grinned at the shocked Sir Covington even as John began to laugh a full belly laugh, "I think that surely Her Majesty and Scotland Yard can work with this information together so that he never sees the outside of a prison cell ... EVER."

"Good Lord, Xander," Giles said from behind him, reading the paper. "What did you do this time?"

He looked over at Giles, "Haven't you ever heard the old saying, Giles – 'Karma is a bitch and she knows it, too'? I merely made sure that she, Karma, had a little help this time."

"This wasn't in your report, kid." John looked at him reprovingly and he looked down at his boots.

"Um, well, it was kind of a backup plan, boss." He looked up and sighed, "I wasn't sure if I would shoot him on the spot, so I packed some confiscated drugs into the carry all he had in his trunk and hoped for the best."

It was Sir Covington who laughed this time, just not as boisterously as John had, "So, I see where he has gotten his moniker, Mr. Clark – you and he are so much alike that he might as well be your son. 'Clark Junior', indeed." He put his hand on Xander's shoulder and squeezed it, "When you graduate, young man, give me a call – I am sure that I can find employment for you in Her Majesty's government somewhere."

"Now hold on a second, Basil," John interrupted, only partially amused, "he's one of us – Farm and all."

"He's also seventeen, John. Even the KGB has better morals than that." The two went back and forth over the fact of his age for several minutes while he himself sat down, trying to think about what was going to happen – Travers would go to trial, say he was set up, finger him and the courts would start searching until they found out whatever it is that they found out. He could only sigh at what was to come.

"Damn, Boytoy," Faith said after killing her soda. "When you play, you do it with the big boys."

Buffy, Kendra and Willow all looked at her and then looked at him, speaking as one, "BOYTOY?"

It was days like this that Xander figured that fate, God, Satan and Murphy had it in for him, he really did.

{One week later}

If there was such a thing as Hell freezing over, he was sure that there was also a thing as the Hellmouth freezing over because the icy nature of his condo was an indicator of just that – he had been talked into watching Dawn that night, there was nothing much to slay of late and both Faith and Dawn were glaring daggers at each other from across the table that they were playing Monopoly with him at. Quite frankly, he was surprised that the oxygen around him wasn't liquefied at all, "Um, Faith? It's your turn."

"Screw the game, Xand – girlfriend and I here need to set down some ground rules." Faith stood and he scooted back, not wanting to get caught in the backlash, "Rule One: you are four years younger than him, kiddo – HE IS NOT YOUR FUTURE HUSBAND. Rule Two: Slayers get to call dibs." Oddly, he felt somewhat insulted that the pair of them were treating him like he was a possession of some kind.

"Rule Three," Dawn shot back, trying to look menacing, but the fact that she was dressed in pajamas that were covered in sheep was seriously hurting that menacing look. "Thou shalt keepeth thine hands off of the body of Alexander Harris. Rule Four: Thou shalt sleepeth in the bed of Alexander Harris only if his ass is parkethed on or asleep on the coucheth."

"Alright, damn it," he said, having had it, "that's enough. Both of you stand the fuck down NOW!" Both females looked at him and complied, albeit reluctantly, "Look, Dawnie, I appreciate you are looking out for me, but Faith is right – you have a few more years before you and I could ever look good together as anything past friends. Faith, not that I didn't appreciate the full grope that I got last night, but Dawn is right in the respect that we sleep in separate beds until we're both older than eighteen." This seemed to defuse both of their tempers for the time being and he grumbled, "Sheesh, not even Sandy was this bad."

"And whom, precisely, is this 'Sandy', Xand?" Dawn's eyes were narrowed slightly and Faith's were nearly slits.

"Sandy Clark, John Clark's wife."

"And you know her how?"

He stopped himself from telling them 'nearly Biblically' after seeing her al natural, hell, being ready to do the deed when the spell hit, and shrugged, "I stayed with the Clarks for a day before entering The Farm and another day after graduation from The Farm before I got myself a flat."

Flashback

"Nervous, kid?"

He looked over at John with a look that could not be read in any other manner of 'what the fuck do you think?' before sighing, "If she kills me, give all my stuff to the Goodwill Store and spread my ashes over the nearest Hostess factory."

John chuckled, "Kid, it's been nearly twenty years for her – I'm sure she had gotten over it." He opened the door to the house and smiled, "Sandy! We have a visitor."

A woman with a blonde bob of hair, dressed in nurses scrubs and holding her jacket came out of the kitchen, "Who is it, John?"

Xander felt his stomach tighten up into a ball of pure .00001 pH acid and then turn into a ball of ice as John grinned and spoke, "Alexander Harris, from Sunnydale."

To her credit, she didn't immediately come over and strangle him, or shove a kitchen knife into his throat, or castrate him on the spot – she merely walked over and looked him up and down as John got out of the way, walking around him before coming to rest in front of him with a slight frown on her face, "Are you nervous, young man?"

He tried to keep his voice calm as he spoke, but there was still a light quaver there as he did, "Very."

She smiled somewhat slyly, "Why? Surely I haven't changed that much, have I?"

"Um, ma'am, the last time I saw you was through your husbands eyes, you and he, well, I, were in the buff and ready to..." he stopped himself, feeling heat rushing to his cheeks as John left the room, his hand stuffed in his mouth, and Sandy frowned a little more.

"I had not seen my husband in nearly six months, young man, and you chose that moment to invade his body? Should my anger at the time have surprised you at all? I mean, all you had to do was lay there." Had he been in a better frame of mind, he would have seen that she was playing him like a violin, but his mind was on other things at the time.

"Hold on, ma'am, my entering you husband's body wasn't my idea – you want someone to blame, I'll give you his name, but don't lay that one on me at all. Second, as I've told him, that was as close to adultery as I ever want to get."

She smiled then, pulling on her jacket, "Good. Now, be good and study hard – I have to go to work tonight, but don't expect to get off of the hook this easily; I want answers that my DEAREST HUSBAND," she called back to the kitchen, "won't tell me." She patted him on the cheek and went out of the door, leaving him to slump against the wall and thank God that all of his parts and pieces were still in place.

"She's right, you know," John said from the kitchen. "You're not getting out of that particular conversation that easily."

(AN: I know Clark seemed to take the entire situation WAY too well, but think about it – you and your wife are about to have some quality time together and all of a sudden you are in the body of a sixteen year old and he's where you used to be without a clue in the world what's going on. Have a sense of humor, please.)

End Flashback

Dawn looked over at Faith and asked, "Do you get the idea that there's more to that story than he's telling us?"

Faith nodded, "That, and aside from one incident that happened with an Ambassador's daughter, he hasn't told me squat about anybody he met." They both looked at him and asked, en tandem, "Tell us more about your summer. Please!" They gave him a dual shot of the puppy dog eyes and he felt his resolve beginning to crumble.

Doing what he could to save his ass, not to mention some of his secrets, he stood and walked to the kitchen, "You guys want anything to drink?"

"No, we want answers!" Dawn came charging into the kitchen and vaulted up on to the sideboard, pouting at him, "You don't want a pouty Dawn Patrol, do you?"

"And you don't want a petulant roommate, do you, Xand?" Faith purred her question from where she had slid up next to him, which brought a scowl to Dawn's face, "'Sides, I just want the dirt – nothing secret, but just some juicy gossip."

He grinned a little and bit the bullet, "Like how half of the people at The Farm thought Joy Suarez and I were sleeping together from day one?" The two girls gaped at him as he began to spin his tale, "She and I were friends only, but that theory got tested when she got plastered one night and ended up in my room, naked, and didn't want to leave."

"Go X-MAN!" Faith was smiling from ear to ear while Dawn looked like she wanted to cry, "You gave it to her good, didn't ya?"

"Faith, Joy likes girls, not guys." This time it looked like Faith wanted to cry while Dawn was doing her best to smile her face in half, "Granted, if she ever did decide to go for guys, she'd probably call me by her own admission, age difference be damned."

"What does she do there?"

"Joy is a linguist with a background in European languages." He reached into the fridge and pulled out a cola, which he popped the top on and took a sip of, "She's very good at what she does, and for some reason she always seemed to be hanging around me when we had time off, so we became friends."

Dawn worked her jaw a few times before being able to speak, "So, you leave town, go do something classified, and somehow end up with not only the boss' wife, but a hot lesbian who is good with her toung and languages?" Before he could defend himself at all Dawn looked over at Faith, who looked somewhat disturbed, "Truce – we never let him out of our sight ever again and never let him NEAR another beautiful woman."

Faith looked over at Dawn and smiled, "Deal."

"Hold on a second," he interrupted, "you can't keep me away from your mother or Jenny, Dawn."

She growled at him and he wisely shut up and decided that, yes, he should have gotten her another animal for her birthday – she was acting way too much like a Hyena protecting her mate / pack.

Fortunately for him, though, there was a knock on his door, saving his ass from the wrath of Dawn Summers, and as he jumped up and answered the door, he felt as if everything would work out for the better ... until he saw the person on the other side.

"Alexander Harris, give me one good reason not to drag your ass back to LA so that you can be arraigned for numerous charges of discharging a firearm, having banned weapons, destruction of public and private property and also attempted murder?" Detective Kate Lockley didn't look to be in a good mood and the gun she had pointed to his head didn't help things much either.

"Hello, Detective Lockley, why should I be arraigned at all?"

She cocked the hammer on her pistol, a Glock 9mm, "Don't give me that, Harris – I watched you shoot a man eight times with a Colt .45 while you had a silenced M16 on your person."

"Correction on two parts - that was a M4A1 and it was suppressed, not silenced. More over, did that guy die from the shots I put into him?" Before she could answer he reached up and triggered the magazine release on the pistol and it dropped to the ground, "Anyway, if you can, come inside and we'll talk about this."

"I still have one in the chamber."

"Glocks don't fire without a magazine in the receiver – safety measure built into it by the producers." He gave her a cheeky grin and she growled at him even as she stepped into the doorway and retrieved her mag, "Now, can we at least be civil about this?"

"Shall I take this as a 'no' to the question of civility, then?"

All in all, it was a fair question as Kate walked back and forth in front of the fireplace, swearing despite the fact that Dawn was in the room; Faith, for her part, was doing her best not to laugh her ass off, Dawn was glaring daggers at Detective Lockley and he wasn't sure what to do next after telling her the truth about vampires and demons.

Kate stopped then and glared at him, "You're crazy – Vampires and demons don't exist!"

Dawn giggled a little while Faith outright laughed as he sighed, knowing that without proof, she would never believe, "And if I could prove it?"

Before Kate could answer, though, the phone rang and for once in his life, Xander was actually convinced that God existed, "Hello?"

(Kid, it's John. Job opportunity in your neck of the woods – interested?)

"Where and how long?"

(LA and within the next day and a half, but not more than two days. You get to baby sit again, but this time it's a thing, not a person.)

He sighed, knowing he was going to regret asking his next question, "Threat assessment?"

(Minimal to moderate – are you in or out?)

"What the hell – I'm in."

John's grin could be hear over the phone line and Xander knew that it was going to be bad, (Great – I'm going to overnight you the info, expect it tomorrow morning at sunrise.) The phone went dead and Xander could only sigh.

"And that was?"

He looked over at Kate and wondered how well she would take the truth, "My boss – he has a job for me to do within the next few days and is sending me the specs tomorrow morning, so let's go prove that vamps exist and be done with it." He got off of the couch and went to his closet, pulling down the locked box that he kept his suppressed .22 in and strapped on it and a shoulder harness before grabbing his ID and permit.

Kate's eyes were narrowed when he turned back around, "A silenced .22? I thought that guns couldn't kill vampires?"

"Guns can't," Faith chipped in with a smirk.

"But the right kind of ammunition can." Dawn finished with a wide smile. That smile turned into a frown then, "Xand, just what are you going to show her?"

He shrugged and pocketed a few stakes before slipping on his duster, "Standard vampire patrol, but a brief one. Faith, watch Dawnie and don't let anyone into the house."

"This isn't a house, Xand," Dawn reminded him pointedly, to which he grinned and ruffled her hair. "I swear one time you're going to do that and pull back a bloody stump for a hand."

Kate looked at him even as Faith laughed, "Did she pick that up from you or is that a natural thing?"

He shrugged, "Not sure, actually."

Kate, he could see, looked more than a little shaken as the vampire on the ground screamed in agony from the blessed .22 rounds that had been put into it's knees, shoulders and pelvis, it's game face very apparent and the wounds were sizzling, "So, now that the vampire has been disabled, we can get close enough to stake him." He flipped her a stake, which she caught out of pure reflex, "You want the honors?"

She looked at him and then down at the stake, "Into the heart?" Her tone was slightly sick, yet oddly fascinated.

He nodded, "Yes, into the heart." He watched as she somewhat hesitantly slammed the stake into the heart of the vampire and then jumped back, watching as the body exploded into dust, with a squeak. He slipped an arm around her shoulders as she began to shake slightly, which caused her to lean into his side a little, "You need a drink?"

She shook her head, "No, I'm dine now, it's just that it's kind of hard to accept that things that you were told to scare you as a kid are actually true."

He smiled, "There are more things between heaven and hell than are thought of in your law or philosophy, Kate. Unfortunately, Sunnydale and LA house most of them." He spent the next hour answering questions that he knew were coming – why doesn't everyone fight, the government's know, etc – as well as he could and ended with a statement of fact as much as it was a warning, "Kate, don't go hunting these things on your own. Nobody who does comes back alive."

She looked at him as if she were going to argue, but apparently she saw something in his eyes that made her close her mouth and nod, "Alright, kid, I'll leave you alone for now, and I will not hunt these ... things, but what I do want to know is why you were able to vanish for three months and not show up on anyone's radar."

Even though he had killed men, demons and vampires, betrayed his best friends and stolen from his own government, Xander Harris was still a smart ass at heart, "Because you weren't looking in the right place, or the right circles of Government, Katie." Patting her cheek, he started to walk off and heard her come up quickly behind him, "Any other questions?"

"FBI?"

"Nope."

"DOD?"

"Strike Two."

Kate stopped then and worked her jaw several times, as if trying to get the words to form yet they would not, "No, I refuse to believe that you're CIA."

He looked back at her, "Then you can't accept most of the truth, then."

(AN: Well, technically, he's not CIA – Alexander Harris doesn't work for them at all.)

Dawn opened her eye from where she was 'sleeping' on the couch while Faith was softly snoring in an over-stuffed chair that he himself liked to sleep in, "Hey, you."

He smiled at her and softly padded over, kneeling, "You should be asleep – you have school tomorrow."

"Kate?"

"Back to LA and not hunting on her own." He stroked her hair and for a second he thought she was part cat with the way she moved into the strokes until she stopped and sighed slightly, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing – just accepting that you and I can't be together for a while. No big." Her voice was down and he could see a tear beginning to collect in the corner of her eye, so he sat down next to the couch and took her hand in his own.

"Dawnie, if I'm not married when you graduate and hit 18, we'll find the first JP that will do the ceremony and we'll get married."

She perked up at this, raising her head off of the couch even as half of her hair was plastered into place, "Promise?" Before he could answer, though, her eyes narrowed, "Or are you doing this to make me feel better?"

He grinned, "Hey, what guy wouldn't want a young wife in his dotage?"

She grinned at him slyly, "And if I wanted to get married to you earlier?"

"I'd have to have boytoy arrested, squirt." Faith's sleepy voice drifted over from her chair, making them both look up to see her dark eyes glittering with mirth, "Of course you'd have to hit 18 before I get him first."

Dawn craned her neck and stuck out her toung before snuggling back into the couch, Xander finding himself draping a light blanket over her form as she dropped into sleep.

He looked over at Faith and then walked over, picking up her athletic body and walking her into his former room, now her room, and depositing her into the bed there, "Good night, Faith."

She smiled and flipped the blankets open, "Join me?" He cocked an eyebrow at her and she laughed, "Yeah, let's not piss off pip even more." She sank down into her favorite pillow and sighed, "Night, stud."

He left the room and went into the smaller second bedroom, which measured actually about eight feet by eight feet, just big enough for a small bed and a chest of drawers, but instead it was filled with a desk, a small gun locker and several pre-packed bags that were arranged into three categories – business trip, play trip, profit trip. The 'play' category was just that, clothes and things that one took for a vacation, while the 'business trip' was a smattering of suits, upper-crust clothing and some personal items that he took everywhere, and both were packed into nice suit cases that were easily explained. The 'profit' category consisted of a duffle bag that held BDUs, first aid supplies, ammunition, and sundry other things that could be classified as 'highly illegal' in the possession of a non- military individual, but it also had a large rucksack that held down- time/recon clothing, had the odd wad of cash tucked away and also had an untraceable cell phone in easy reach in case he had to reach out and touch someone.

He grabbed the 'business' suitcase and also tucked away several items pulled from the 'profit' rucksack for a 'just-in-case-oh-shit-we're- screwed' instance that seemed to follow him around wherever he decided to go.

Flashback

{13, July 1998}

It had been a hellish week at work and had culminated in the capture of a Top Ten fugitive on the FBI/Interpol list; John had given him and Joy a few days off to compensate for the nearly one week of all-nighters they had been forced to pull as A) they were at the bottom of the ladder and B) they had the best chance of finding the perp as he was a hacker their age, who had used a worm of some kind to raid financial assets of a large British conglomerate that funded Company operations.

Joy, for her part, seemed ready to go as he packed the last of his things into the rucksack that he would be brining along, and looked dressed to kill in her Capri pants, sandals, t-shirt, sunglasses and large hat, "Come on, Xander! Bust hump or all the good spots will be gone."

He closed the top of the sack and hefted it to his shoulder, "Tell me again how you talked be into going to the beach with you at the ungodly hour of 0600 when my bed is looking mighty good right now?"

"Three words – me, thong, and bikini." Even while he admitted that it was a good reason, she grabbed him by the arm and ushered him out of his flat, locking the door, "I swear, a week of all-nighters and you look like you're about to drop."

"Not all of us have a caffeine count instead of a hemoglobin count, Joy," he grumbled as they got down to the car and he tossed his bag into the boot of a classic Mustang, finding that she had packed away several bags and a picnic lunch. "It's not fair – I drive a POS and you drive this beauty."

"Get used to it, babe." She turned the engine over and it purred like a kitten as she slipped the machine into gear and gunned it, the tires squealing before the bit into the surface of the road and launched them towards the beach.

The drive actually wasn't that bad, as it was a Tuesday and a work week, and they reached the beach just before sunrise; Joy whooped and worked quickly to stake out her spot on the empty sands while he trudged along, carrying the bulk of the food, her stuff and some of his own things before collapsing into the sands next to her.

"God, Xander, I miss this." She looked at the rising sun, "Me and my friend watching sunrise, but instead of the deserts and mountains, watching it over the Atlantic." She looked over and then bumped him, "What do you think?"

He smiled, remembering how many times he had watched the sun rise after a hard night of hunting, as if it were a reminder to him what it was that he was fighting for, "I'm not sure what's more beautiful – the sunrise or the companion." He boldly looked her up and down even as she blushed, "Tough call, really."

She elbowed him in the ribs none-too-gently, "Come on, Xand, that wouldn't be right – you're 17, I'm 23 and a lesbian."

He shrugged, "So? Maybe I could get you to switch hit."

She smirked, "Pretty confident in your abilities, aren't ya?" They shared a look together for several seconds before bursting into a fit of laughter that had her clutching her sides, back to the sand, and him rolling on his back – she knew he was a virgin and he knew that she was firmly committed to her girlfriend back in her apartment in town. When she had told him initially, he had been weirded out slightly, but had gotten over it as it had not changed who she was, so he didn't let it bother him too much. What had bothered him, though, was how she had found out who he really was – even that one had John scratching his head slightly.

Even as they finished laughing, though, they heard a scream from the other side of a dune and were running at it as soon as he had grabbed his sidearm, from his rucksack – he may have been off-duty, but he wasn't stupid. On the other side of the dune he saw Joy, who had gotten here first, doing her best to calm down a young woman while shielding said woman from the grisly sight of a body that appeared to have been there for a few days. He could only sigh, "never an easy op."

{90 Minutes Later}

"Agent Jethro Gibbs, NCIS. You are?"

"Agent Harrison Alexander, this is Agent Joy Suarez." He handed over his ID, as did she, and Agent Gibbs, a man who looked to be in his early forties, maybe mid forties, arched his eyebrow before handing the badges back.

"Aren't you kind of young to be CIA?"

"Appearances can be deceiving, Agent Gibbs." Joy smiled and wrapped an arm around his waist, "Can we finish this up? My friend and I are on vacation and we intend to spend what is left of it together."

"You heard the scream and found the body, right?"

Xander smiled, "Absolutely."

"Didn't hear any shots?"

Joy smiled, "Nope."

"Are you two going to help me out at all?"

They looked at one another and then back at him, shrugging, "Not sure – we know about as much as you do." He wasn't sure about Joy, but John had told him about how much of a pain NCIS could be to them and hoped it wouldn't come to it.

Gibbs looked over his shoulder, "DINOZZO! SKETCHES AND PICTURES NOW!" He looked back at Joy and then over at Xander, who looked bored with it all, "Am I boring you, Agent Alexander?"

Xander glared at Agent Gibbs, "I've just finished a solid week of all- nighters, Agent Gibbs. I'm tired, cranky, and can swear better than any Marine, not to mention my friend here promised me the sight of her in a thong bikini, and your little questioning session here is impeding that sight, so yes, you are." {GOD,} the thought, {THESE NCIS GUYS ARE REAL ASSHOLES.} (AN: Don't you just love inter-agency cooperation?)

Gibbs gave him a hard glare, "I will keep you here as long as I see fit, Agent Alexander, so sit your ass down on the sand and I'll be back in a little while." With that said Agent Gibbs stormed off.

Joy sat down next to him as he dropped where he was standing, and sighed, "Don't worry, Xand, I'll give you a private viewing of my thong bikini when we get back to your place. This day is pretty much shot as is."

End Flashback

Even as he packed the bags with a few more odds and ends, he sighed petulantly, "Still didn't get to see the bikini." Joy had been called away on their way back to his flat – her grandfather had died and the funeral was in a few days. He'd done his best to console her, but it really wasn't his thing so he'd told her to call him, night or day, if she needed to talk. She'd kissed him on the cheek and asked where he had been before she had found she liked girls (he'd answered that he was probably in junior high and got a giggle out of her as a response) before she left and he had been left to deal with Gibbs and the NCIS investigation.

"XAND!" He turned in the terminal just in time to see a charcoal business suit and skirt with a white silk blouse housing a nice frame about two meters in front of his face before he was buried in an embrace that he awkwardly returned. The embrace broke and he saw that it was Joy, wearing a smile on her face the could have lit up the darkest caves in Carlsbad, "How the hell are you, man?"

He grinned lopsidedly, "After that hug? How do you think?" He'd been in LA for a little more than two hours, doing his best to reach the rendezvous point to receive the package, but traffic in LA was murder.

She swatted his arm, "You're just saying that because you face was between my breasts."

"And the problem with that was?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "Goof."

He grinned. "Nag."

"Jerk."

"Harpy."

"Underage."

"NCIS Agent."

She gave him a horrified look and then spun on her heel, crossing her arms and 'harumph'-ing, "Meanie."

He hugged her from behind, his hands traveling the expanse of her rock-hard abs, "Sexy."

She spun in his embrace and grinned, "Damned right." They hugged for a minute before she let go and reached down for her bag, "Ready to do this right?"

He nodded and slipped into his business mode, "Agent Suarez."

"Agent Alexander." She handed him a manila envelope and then handed him a USPS document envelope, sealed, stamped and ready for delivery, "Instructions are in the manila envelope, and you have 12 hours to complete delivery."

He accepted both packages and then signed the piece of paper she handed him, as a way of confirming delivery, "Breakfast?"

She shook her head, "No, I've got a return flight in ten minutes." She hugged him again and kissed him on the cheek, "Good seeing you, Xand."

He squeezed her and then patted her butt as she let go, making her hop a little, "As firm as I remember." She stuck her toung out at him and he grinned, "Stick that out again and you lose it."

She arched an eyebrow, "Do you hate Jessie that much that you'd deprive her of all entertainment?"

He sighed, "Can you ever stop playing with my mind?"

She looked contemplative for a second, "No, as a matter of fact, it's in my contract to be an eternal cock tease when you are involved." She patted his cheek and sighed as the PA announced a departing flight from the next terminal gate over, "Gotta go, Xand."

He hugged her, "Be careful, Joy."

She chuckled, "You know me, Xand."

He gave her another look, "That's what I'm talking about."

"Welcome to Wolfram and Hart, how may I help you?"

He looked down at the name on the package, "Lilah Morgan, please. Tell her it's a delivery from Mr. Alexander." He had been told to be there at a certain time and to meet Miss Morgan, but outside of that, nothing more than to get the hell out PDQ ASAP after delivery.

"One moment, please." The woman smiled and dialed a number on the phone that his mind tagged as a contact and memorized, and spoke to whoever picked up on the other end for a moment before looking back up at him, "She will be down shortly."

He nodded and sat down at a nearby leather couch with package in hand – the entire building gave him the creeps and his Sunnydale supernatural 'radar' was going off in spades as people passed him without so much as an off look.

The sound of heels clicking against the marble floor alerted him to her presence, but also the fact that she was a woman of power and great intelligence with just the sound of her stride – no nonsense or sense of humor, "Yes?"

"Lilah Morgan?"

Her eyes narrowed dangerously, "Yes?"

He handed over a slip of paper, "Sign this."

She scrawled her name on the paper after reading it over in one glance, "And you are?"

"Unimportant." He passed her the package and nodded, "Good day."

She looked down at the USPS package and frowned even as he turned, "Why are you giving this to me?"

"Orders." That said, he walked away at a deliberate pace and exited the building, or tried to, as a surprisingly strong female hand grabbed his shoulder after a short number of clicks of heels.

"Who in the HELL are you?"

"A delivery person, Miss Morgan." He turned and looked at her, "I was ordered by my bosses to transport that package into your hands PDQ – I don't know what is in there, nor do I care. My job is done."

"And if it's a bomb?"

He gave her a look that said, 'duh', "Do you think I'd be anywhere near that if it were a bomb? Besides, it's been scanned and X-rayed already – otherwise it never would have made it through airport security." He jerked his shoulder out of her grip and gave her a cold stare, which made her step back, "Good Day, Miss Morgan." He turned around and walked out of the lobby of Wolfram and Hart, fuming, when his cell phone went off, "Yes?"

(Package delivered?)

"Delivered and secured."

(Confirmed identity?)

"Face, clothes and codeword. Boss, what the hell is going on here?"

There was a sigh on the other end of the line, (Trust me, kid, this came from the top of the heap and it concerns you for some reason. That's all I know.)

"John, this is me – no bullshit, what the hell is going on?"

(Wish I knew, kid. Jack won't tell me anything about this, but I think it has to do with your future with us.)

Xander sighed, "John, no shit, that place scared the living shit out of me. Something there isn't kosher and I don't mean it because it's a law firm. It's ... Hellmouthy."

John kind of chuckled at the term, but Xander knew he knew what it meant, (I understand, kid, but sometimes the law is too strict and we need to circumvent it while making it look all nice and legal. I expect a full debrief by 0700 tomorrow, your time.)

"Understood."

R&R, please.