"I really hate this."

"Why, Captain Fuller," Hondo said, patronizingly. "Surely you should be happy. Now that we're back as a certified team, the city will be better protected."

"Right," Fuller muttered. "The day you people are making the city safer, and not more dangerous, I'm pretty sure will be the day I turn in my badge."

"That a promise, sir?" Hondo asked, hope evident on his face.

Fuller glared at the man as Hondo's SWAT team filed into conference room.

"Gentleman," Fuller said, when they came to attention.

Chris Sanchez coughed.

"And lady," Fuller said, shaking his head. "Let's make this quick. You know him, he's now officially the youngest current member of SWAT in the LAPD. Xander Harris."

Xander raised his hand and the group applauded. Fuller waved Xander forward, and the young man stepped out of line and approached both Fuller and Hondo. Fuller handed Xander a SWAT pin, and shook his hand.

"You fuck this up and you'll be working traffic until your hair turns gray," he said.

Xander merely smiled at him and nodded, then turned to Hondo, who also shook his hand. Hondo nodded at him, and Xander stepped back into line.

"Okay," Fuller said. "You're a certified SWAT team again. I've got my eye on you, though. Mess up, and your asses will be mine so fast you won't know where they went."

"Thank you, sir," Xander said, completely straight faced. "Always good to know our CO is looking out for us."

Fuller glared at Xander. He picked up a folder from the table and handed it to Hondo.

"Certification papers," he said. "You file it."

With that, Fuller walked out of the room. The SWAT team released the laughs they had been holding in.

"I was right," Street said, looking at Xander. "You do piss him off."

"Come on kids," said Hondo, approaching his team. "I'll drop these off, and meet you."

"Where we going?" Xander asked.

"My dad's restaurant," said Deke. "Trust me. You'll love it."

"To Sanchez!" Deke yelled, as the rest of the group raised their glasses. Deke was an extremely muscular black man, outspoken, but with an underlying intelligence. "The prettiest mama in SWAT."

"Sanchez!" the others chanted, then took long drinks from their glasses.

"I'm the only mama in SWAT," said Chris Sanchez, an attractive, petite Hispanic woman who Xander realized had more strength than her small frame would lead one to believe. But then, he knew a lot of girls like that.

"Does that not prove me right?" Deke asked, smiling.

Sanchez punched him in the arm.

Xander stood up and raised his glass. "To Hondo," he said, nodding to his sergeant, and grinning. "For knowing talent when he saw it, plastered across a TV screen."

"Hondo!" the others yelled as the older man stood and bowed.

Jim Street stood up next. "To Harris, the new guy," he said, as the rest of them raised their glasses, and Xander tipped his head in thanks. "The man who starts out in SWAT knowing he's just not as good as me."

"Harris!" the others said, as Sanchez threw a peanut at Street, which he nimbly dodged.

"And please, call me Xander," said the toastee.

Then Boxer, a man of average height and muscular build with a scar on his neck where he had been shot, took his turn. "To fallen friends," he said, softly. "For the happiness they brought to our lives when they were here."

"Fallen friends," the others said. They then drank from their glasses in somber silence. Each had a story, each had lost people who then came to mind.

"Okay," Hondo said, standing up after a few moments' reflection. "Tonight we're celebrating, and tomorrow we're a squad again, and officially on duty. So I want you all to go home, and get some sleep. It might be the only chance you get for a while."

Everybody groaned, then checked their watches, or the clock on the wall, and gave in.

They walked out, sharing small talk, and headed for their cars. Xander noticed that just before heading off to his car, Street took Sanchez's hand for a second, then walked away with a smile.

Xander hopped in his truck, a 2002 Dodge Dakota he was still paying off, and would be for the next few years. He drove home to his apartment, a small one-bedroom deal with a living room/kitchen and a full bath. He walked in, dropped his badge on the table next to his door, reached down to his ankle and pulled his backup gun from the holster and pointed it into the corner.

"You better speak up or I start putting air holes in you," he said.

"No!" came the voice. "It's just me."

Xander visibly deflated. "Dawn?" he asked, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

"I couldn't stay there," she said, moving into the light. Her eyes were red from crying. "Buffy was just being..."

"Shh, Dawn," he said, embracing her.

"Sit down," he said, leading her to the couch. "Tell me what happened."

"I went out," Dawn said. "With Andrew. I told Angel and Gunn where we were going, and they okayed it."

"Who's Andrew?" he asked.

"Oh, he's one of the guys who was with us. He's kind of... reforming from being evil light, or something. And he's a big geek, but not really a bad guy. Anyway, we were just going to Starbucks, a block or two down from the hotel. Not like a romantic thing, we just wanted to get away from all the slayers."

"Okay," Xander said.

"So, we get back and Buffy just goes psycho. 'Where were you?' 'Why didn't you tell me where you went?' 'What were you thinking, taking him? He's no protection. You could have been hurt!'" Dawn screamed in frustration. "She's so controlling!"

"She's just worried about you Dawnie," he said. "It can be aggravating, trust me, I know, but—"

"No, Xander," she said. "It's more than that. She can't handle anything or anybody she knows not being under her thumb. And she thinks she's always right, just because she's the Slayer. God, she can be so annoying!"

"So, you what, ran out and came here?" he asked.

Dawn nodded. "Packed a bag first."

"Does anybody know you're here?"

She shook her head. Xander sighed.

"How'd you get in, anyway? How'd you know where I live, for that matter?"

"Giles had your address and phone number in his address book. A-and... I picked the lock," she said. "Spike showed me how."

"Man am I ever gonna miss that guy."

Dawn laughed. "Would you rather your neighbors see a seventeen year old girl napping against your door?"

"Well, that's a good point, I suppose," he said. "Okay. You're welcome to stay here for the night, but I'm going to call the hotel and let them know you're okay. I'll take you back by in the morning, and you can try to work this stuff out."

Dawn nodded. "Do you have... a pillow or something, for the couch?" She asked.

"Yeah," he said. "But you're taking my bed."

"No, Xander I –"

"Ah, ah," he said. "No arguing. My place, my rules. Take the bed."

Dawn gave in, and went into his bedroom, shutting the door to change.

"And brush your teeth!" he yelled in after her.

Xander sighed, then picked up the phone and dialed.

"Angel Investigations, how can we help you?" answered a feminine voice with a slight southern drawl.

"No longer helping the hopeless, eh Fred?"

"Oh, hi Xander," she said. "What's up?"

"I hear you guys have a missing teenager," he said.

"How'd you know that?"

"She's here, with me," he said.

"Oh, thank God," Fred sighed. "We were all so worried!"

"Well, you can all rest easy. Dawn's pretty upset, though. She's going to stay here tonight, and I'll bring her back in the morning, okay?"

"I'll be sure to tell everyone," Fred said.

"Where you there when it happened?" Xander asked.

"I... um, yes, I was," said Fred.

"And Buffy seemed to you..."

"She was.. a bit on the irrational side, I think." That was as close as she normally came to insulting people.

Xander sighed heavily. "Okay," he said. "I'll see you in the morning then."

"Bye, Xander."

Xander hung up and shook his head, then walked to his bedroom door and knocked.

"Come in," Dawn called. She was lying on his bed wearing pajama pants and a too-small tank top, reading a book.

"Hey, Dawn-Patrol," he said, sitting on the bed next to her. "I need to ask you something."

"Only if you stop calling me Dawn-Patrol," she said. "I'm not ten anymore."

"Deal," Xander said. "It's about Buffy. When did she start becoming..."

"Such a bitch?" Dawn asked.

"Well, I wouldn't have put it quite like that. But okay, yeah."

"She really started trying to control everything around the time Giles showed up with the potentials. She just... started giving orders at all times, and we just started following them. And nobody stood up to her, and she was often right, so she just kept on giving orders. And she never looked back, never admitted she was ever wrong. She told off Giles, she stopped listening to anybody but herself, and on occasion Spike. And she's never come down from that. She's still acting like a general, like she needs to control everything."

Xander frowned, and leaned back on the bed.

"She really told off Giles?" he asked. Dawn nodded. He shook his head. "She really has changed, hasn't she?" Dawn nodded again, and rested her head against Xander's shoulder.

"I love my sister," Dawn said. "It's getting really hard to keep liking her, though."

"Okay," Xander said. "I need to sleep, I have work in the morning. You get to sleep when you're tired, okay?"

"Okay," Dawn said. "And Xander?" she asked as he reached his bedroom door.

"Yeah, Dawnie?"

"Thanks for letting me stay here."

Xander smiled at her. "My door is always open for you," he said. "Goodnight."