'The pain of war cannot exceed the woe of aftermath.' The line from Led Zeppelin's The Battle of Evermore was playing in repeat in Pauline's ears as she stood unblinking in the middle of their front yard, trying to soothe the crying Patricia who was clinging to her like she was the young Witch's lifeline.

Her broken right arm in a sling, she held Patricia in a one-armed hug with Trang's mobile phone in her hand. Twenty minutes ago, she had emotionlessly picked up the blood-covered device from the Vietnamese woman's limp hand and dialled the one number she had hoped they'd never have to use. It was labelled "!FOR ABSOLUTE EMERGENCIES ONLY!".

A few minutes later the quiet night was gradually filled with the tell-tale sound of a helicopter approaching their location. She started again going through the tally of the assault on them.

'Lynn and Kenneth – dead.' The two former soldiers had defended their western flank until their ammo ran out and they were overrun. By the look of it, they had managed to kill at least five dark creatures between them. That loss in the enemy ranks had been potentially crucial.

'Trang – dead; herself – a broken arm and minor scratches; Patricia – unharmed... physically.' Due to no fault on the young Witch's part, a single vampire had been able to infiltrate the building. Trang had looked out of the door in the middle of the fight in the front yard, panicked and then yelled for everyone to get in. The vampire must have been hiding near the door as he had just flashed inside and broken the Vietnamese woman's neck before any of them had been able to blink. Her own attempt to stake the creature had been blocked by a faster-than-human hand that had twisted her arm enough to break it and make her collapse in agony. When the gloating and leering vampire had thrown Patricia to the floor and ripped her skirt apart at the front, leaving his intentions to no doubt, Pauline had managed to nudge her fallen stake just enough for Patricia to grab it with a desperately flailing hand. Her follow-up upward thrust with it as the vampire positioned himself between her legs had been pure instinct.

'Miyoko – severely wounded.' One of the skeletal creatures had run her through. The Japanese woman had been barely conscious when Faith carefully picked her up from the ground and carried her to Miyoko's bed. Besides the bleeding, it was worrisome that Miyoko had whispered that she could not feel her legs.

'The demon... no, Rowan – wounded.' Maybe the greatest mystery. According to Faith, he should have been in Britain with the Council. But there he had been, fighting back-to-back with Miyoko against a superior force. He seemed to have a bleeding gunshot wound in his side, a bruise with a probably broken rib elsewhere in his torso, and what was really worrisome, a fresh bite in his shoulder. He was currently lying next to Miyoko in her bed under Faith's watchful eye.

'Faith – wounded.' A deep slash in her thigh and another in her side. She had shrugged off all concerns about her condition. Instead, she had gently but determinedly carried both Miyoko and Rowan, like they were the most precious and fragile crystal sculptures in the world, to the Japanese woman's bed without a single groan of pain or stumble.

All this playing non-stop in her head along with the Zeps, she watched dispassionately as the helicopter made a landing beyond the hedgerows. A few minutes later one of the gates was pushed slowly open and a man dressed in a black suit entered their yard.

"Dr Mahuta?" the man requested as he walked slowly in her and Patricia's direction.

"Yes."

The man held a secure satellite phone in an outstretched hand. "My name is Douglas Jameson, ma'am. I have Sir Quentin Travers on the line."


"Hello?" came the surprisingly clear voice from the speaker of the conference phone on the table between Travers and Gwen.

"This is Quentin Travers. Please identify yourself."

"I'm Pauline Mahuta, Mr Travers."

"Dr Mahuta. With me is my deputy, Gwendolyn Post. What can we do for you?" His tone was all business without any gloating over the fact that the leader of the so called "heretics" had been forced to call them for aid.

"There was an attack," Dr Mahuta's voice told them calmly. "Vampires, werewolves, other dark creatures, humans. They were intent on exterminating us all."

Travers' snarled "Roger" was echoed by Gwen's gasped "No!". He took a deep breath. This had all the ingredients for an even larger catastrophe.

"Dr Mahuta, please listen to me very carefully. Co-ordinated and almost simultaneous attacks targeting the current leadership of the Council here in London, an... associate of ours in Scotland, the Slayer – Buffy Summers – in Sunnydale, California, and you in New Zealand were orchestrated by a rebel faction within the Council, headed by a former Cabinet member, Roger Wyndam-Pryce.

"Their leader was killed in the attempt and his closest associates are being rounded-up as we speak. We managed to call off the assassination attempt against Ms Summers at the last moment, and also the Scotland threat has been neutralised.

"I want to make it absolutely clear that the current leadership of the Council had neither prior knowledge of nor any part in the attack against you. As a show of our sincerity, our local office head will offer you their full resources without prejudice or expectations of compensation."

There was a long silence which Gwen eventually broke.

"Dr Mahuta... This is Gwendolyn Post," she started anxiously. "The Slayer currently in your custody... Is she...?"

"Faith's wounded but in no life-threatening danger. And, if I'm not too much mistaken, your... 'Scotland associate' is here as well, Ms Post. He seems to have dropped out of the clear sky and then just joined the fight."

"Rowan," Gwen gasped. "Is he...?"

"Alive but injured as well. You wouldn't by any chance know anything about a half-healed gunshot wound he appears to have in his side?"

"Yes, Dr Mahuta, he was shot during the Scotland attack," Travers took over once again. "We don't have full details yet, but the current understanding is that he received help from an extremely powerful Witch during and after the attack. Now, please give the phone back to Mr Jameson. He has full authority to make the necessary decisions on behalf of the Council."

"Thank you," came the relieved reply. "But, just for the record – and so that we're all clear on it – this doesn't change anything."

"We know," Travers answered evenly, fully knowing that "this" changed quite a lot. "Goodbye, Dr Mahuta."


Faith was going crazy with conflicting emotions. A part of her wanted to laugh and just keep on laughing in relief at the sight of Miyoko and Rowan lying so peacefully in the former's bed. Another part wanted to howl and cry in impotent fury for seeing those two so badly injured. Yet another part – the Slayer, she thought – wanted to give in to madness and go on a killing spree... to torture, maim and slowly destroy those who had had the fucking gall to go after those close to her – and especially those she loved.

She couldn't sit still. After she had carried the two carefully like children to Miyoko's room and laid them gently in the bed, she had sat down next to Rowan and leaned in to kiss him. "You're the first one who's always been there for me, Bright Eyes," she had murmured. "Don't leave me now."

When her emotions threatened to overwhelm her, she stood up, rounded the bed and sat down next to Miyoko. She took her hand into hers and kissed the scratched knuckles. "Besides Buffy, who's more like a sister, you're my best friend, Cat-Hands," she murmured in turn. "Don't have too many of those, so I can't afford to lose a single one, especially you."

Switching places again, she laid her head slowly and carefully on Rowan's lap. "Mmm, leather," she hummed quietly and ran her fingertips up and down his thigh. "So supple and smooth – couldn't of been cheap. Can't wait to see you strut around in these."

Another switch. "Hey, Cat-Hands! They guy you're in bed with is... he is... fuck, this really isn't easy for me. Ok, I guess he is my boyfriend. I love you, girl, I hope you know that. But he... he holds my heart. Anyway, speaking about you two in bed... can't say the idea of a menage à trois has never crossed my mind. He also kinda said it's ok for me and you to..."

"He's... an... insufferable... smartass," Miyoko's breathed words interrupted her ramblings.

"Cat-Hands... Miyoko!" Faith exclaimed in shock, her heart threatening to burst through her ribcage. "Fuck, don't move."

"Can't feel my legs, so that's an affirmative," Miyoko deadpanned in a somewhat stronger voice. Just to be on the safe side, she kept her head totally motionless.

"You'll be fine," Faith tried to assure herself mostly. "You're not..." 'Paralysed.' She couldn't say it.

"Maybe, maybe not. I can feel your hand just fine, though," she tried to calm the clearly distressed Slayer and squeezed the hand in hers lightly.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, Faith couldn't help but smile. Keeping Miyoko's hand in hers, she reached out with her other.

She gently caressed the older woman's cheek. "Feel that?"

"Yes."

Slowly sliding her hand lower, she laid her hand over Miyoko's right breast. "That?"

"Very much so," Miyoko whispered.

Lower, like a feather, past Miyoko's bellybutton, and circling widely around the hastily bandaged hole in her lower abdomen, Faith held her breath as she gently rested her fingers on the apex of Miyoko's legs. "T-this?" she asked hesitantly. Her hand was shaking like a leaf.

"Strangely enough, yes," Miyoko gasped.

Lower and to the side, to Miyoko's left hip.

"There, stop."

"What?"

"The other..."

Faith's gentle hands confirmed what Miyoko had already suspected. Just past the hip joint all feelings stopped like her legs had been cut off. Unable to look herself, Faith assured her they were still there, but now, in all aspects, just chunks of useless flesh and bone. 'Could be worse,' she thought as she felt another light caress pass her mound. 'Much, much worse.' The anger and depression would surely surface at some point, but now she sent a short prayer to the Powers that she could still be there for Faith.

"So, about this pain-in-the-ass boyfriend of yours...," she had time to start before Patricia burst into the room and announced that two paramedics were just behind her.


While Pauline was still speaking with the Head of the Council, two paramedics had followed the man identified as Mr Jameson into the compound. Understanding immediately, Patricia had loosened her hold on the Māori woman and urgently beckoned for the pair to follow her inside where the wounded lay in bed.

"With your permission, Doctor, we'll take over from here and see to the... clean-up of the site and the immediate care required by the injured," Jameson requested after Pauline had given him the phone back. "I also assume you wish to avoid any... entanglements with the local authorities."

"You can assume that," Pauline nodded.

"Yes. A mobile med-unit belonging to the RNZN will be arriving in a few hours. Once it's here, we'll be able to perform surgeries and other more complicated medical operations than it's possible with the equipment we were able to carry with us in the heli."

"The... the deceased – Lynn, Kenneth..."

"Attacked by a pack of rabid, wild dogs," Jameson tsk'ed and shook his head sadly. "Nasty business that. We'll see to it that their children and their families are well-compensated."

"Trang..."

"Fatally injured when attempting to rush to the Hogans' aid heedless of her own safety."

"Thank you," Pauline breathed in relief. Despite the organisation the man in front of her represented, it was so alleviating to be able to outsource the difficult decisions to a third party after all they had gone through tonight. It was a miracle she had been able to stand on her own legs this long – somewhat unsteadily, but still – but now with the control taken away from her, she felt the strength finally leave her and her legs buckled under her. She would have fallen and possibly injured her broken arm even more if not for Jameson who caught her mid-fall.


Faith sat on the steps to the mansion's patio with Pauline and Trisha next to her. Her eyes were fixed on the black truck parked in the middle of their front yard. She kept her eyes and mind fully on the truck and what was most likely going on inside. Otherwise, there was no telling what she might do to the Council – the fucking Council – personnel coming and going around them.

A two-man team was cleaning the interior of the mansion, and another was sweeping the front yard and the area outside the gates. The first team had started with the house that had belonged to the Hogans before continuing with the mansion. They had brought with them a large and full duffel bag which, after a quick inspection, was confirmed to belong to Rowan. It was currently lying between Faith's feet on the ground with Rowan's sheathed sword on top of it.

Inside the black truck Miyoko was undergoing a surgery.

Inside Miyoko's room the paramedics were tending to Rowan's wounds.

He had been bitten by a werewolf during full moon.

The Council was responsible for the attack.

The head honcho of their current operation, Donald Jameson... or something like that, had wisely stayed away from her after having seen the murder in her eyes. Pauline had immediately been there for her when she stepped out of the mansion behind Miyoko's stretcher. Dr Kiwi had taken her into a firm but gentle embrace and tried to explain what she had heard from that motherfucker Travers. She had shrugged all that off.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she glimpsed Mr Irish Whiskey approach Pauline, wisely coming in from the direction furthest away from her. In his hand he held what looked like an abnormally large mobile phone which he gave to Pauline with a nod in her direction. She blinked in surprise when Pauline handed the phone to her.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

"It's for you," Pauline nodded. "You might want to take this."

Gingerly, like it was a hot coal, Faith picked up the phone and brought it to her ear.

"Yeah?"

"Faith! It's Gwen. I'm so glad to hear your voice."


"G-Gwen," Faith stammered and almost dropped the device. She was practically reeling from shock.

"Are you alright?" Gwen asked anxiously and Faith could hear the real concern in her voice. "We heard about the attack and I've been so worried."

"Why?" Faith asked, her old suspicions rising to the surface again, regardless of what had happened after their reunion in Sunnydale. She was Council after all. "You're not even..."

"Maybe not in name," Gwen interrupted her gently but firmly. "But I was, for a while, and I still take your well-being to heart. Besides..." Faith heard an amused chuckle. "The Scoobies stick together."

"What?" Faith's jaw dropped.

"Faith, I'm telling you this both as your 'Bitcher' and a friend. The attack on you and your... companions was executed by a rebel faction within the Council. They targeted Quentin and myself here in London, Rowan in Scotland, Buffy in Sunnydale and you in New Zealand. Buffy is fine, as far as I know. We were able to abort the team's mission before they could complete it, which they confirmed beyond any doubt. I know Rowan is there with you, so I'm not going to go into details of what transpired in Scotland. To make a long story shorter, and I'm sure you'll prefer hearing the details from Rowan and Dr Mahuta anyway, their leader was killed and the coup has all but totally folded."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?" Faith growled. "They sent a fucking army here. They killed three of my friends, one was critically injured and is now undergoing surgery. Bright Eyes almost laid the whole fucking place to waste with some really funky Elemental stuff and is unconscious with a fucking werewolf bite in his shoulder. So, don't fucking tell me how to feel!"

"Faith..." Pauline cut in quietly but there was a hint of warning in her voice.

"Faith, I know how impulsive you can be," Gwen continued softly. "But please, don't direct your anger at those not deserving it. I know you haven't forgotten what Travers was planning to do to you when you were in the coma. Neither have I. But believe me when I say this as a friend. The Council has done many things wrong both lately and throughout its history, and it won't be immediately that any changes in its direction will be noticeable. But now, with the rebellion squashed, Travers has nominated me as his Deputy. In that position I'm hoping to be able to make a real difference. I'll always be there for you, Faith. If you can believe that, it will be enough for me."

"No promises," Faith warned. "One more wrong step and I'll fucking come and personally kill every last motherfucking one of you."

"I can accept that. Please tell me that, for now, you won't resort to actions you might regret later."

"Fine," Faith snapped and disconnected the call.


Seeing that the Slayer had finished with the phone call, Douglas came – somewhat gingerly – to pick up the device. Fully expecting to have it thrown at his face, he was surprised to find the phone simply handed back with a nod.

"Listen," he addressed the trio. "Ms Nagisa's operation might take several more hours, so may I suggest you all try to get some rest. The interior team is just about finished, so you will have complete privacy."

At first Faith didn't react but when Pauline gently pulled her to her feet, she stepped wordlessly inside and mechanically ascended the stairs to the second floor. She didn't even glance at her own door. Instead, she silently opened Miyoko's door and climbed into bed with the still unconscious Rowan. She snuggled in close, careful not to irritate his newly bandaged wounds. She wrapped her arm around his steadily rising and falling chest, closed her eyes and immediately drifted into an exhausted sleep.


Two hours later Pauline stood in the doorway to Miyoko's room wiping the corners of her eyes with a sappy "awww..." look on her face. The absolute adorableness of the scene in front of her was enough to melt even the most hardened soul. Faith lay curled into a ball next to the still boy who had somehow spirited himself 12,000 miles to be there for Faith – and them by extension – when he had found out that the Slayer might be in grave danger. The Slayer had buried her face into his neck and, to Pauline's amusement, slid her hand under the waistband of his black leather pants.

Loath to interrupt Faith's much-needed rest, she knew, however, that the Slayer would want news of Miyoko's condition immediately. So, she went to shake her shoulder gently.

"Faith?"

"Whuzzad?" the groggy Slayer mumbled and burrowed her face even deeper into the unconscious boy's neck.

"Faith, they have finished operating on Miyoko. She's..." That's as far as Pauline got before The Slayer was suddenly wide awake and standing up facing her.

"How is she?" Faith asked quickly, both relieved and apprehensive. "Is she ok?"

"The... the strike missed any vital organs. They have stitched her up and there shouldn't be any infections, but..."

"But...?" Faith almost whispered, her blood suddenly turning ice-cold. 'Please, no.'

"Her spine was hit at the L5 vertebra, damaging the related spinal nerve bundle. Now, this is..."

"Her legs are paralysed, right?" Faith barely dared to ask. Her own legs felt weak, and she had to sit down on the bed. "Why her?"

Pauline sat down next to the distraught girl and put her good arm around her. "Faith. Miyoko's spinal cord was not damaged as that does not extend below the L3 vertebra. Most commonly injuries to the L5 spinal nerve bundle cause numbness and weakness in the legs – they are not life-threatening. The operating surgeon said that she has a 50-50 chance of her recovering completely, though that may take a long time. There's an 80-20 chance that she will recover most of the normal feeling and mobility in her legs, although she might still require to use either a wheelchair or crutches. The odds are somewhat imprecise as the injury was caused by a supernatural being, and there's no way to factor that into the prognosis."

When Faith next opened her mouth, Pauline anticipated the question with a lopsided grin.

"Her... reproductive organs were not damaged, and it appears she has retained, ah... full sensitivity where it counts."

It wasn't very often that Faith blushed like a virgin schoolgirl.

"So, Faith," Pauline continued. "They want to transfer Miyoko back to her room and set up a drip stand. A nurse will be staying here for a few days until she's mostly recovered. They have also given me the number and address of a local physiotherapist who will be overseeing her further treatment." She looked over her shoulder. "Could you carry your ummm... him to another room? Trang's..."

"No, mine," Faith stated simply. "He was bitten by a werewolf, so I should stay close. Just in case."

"And that's the only reason...?" Pauline teased. "Faith, sweetie, I'm joking," she laughed at the look on Faith face. "Of course he should stay in your room. Based on what I've learned and heard, I believe you two have really earned the right to be together. Who knows what the future will bring for you? The fates have a funny way of always wanting to keep the hero couple separated."

Faith leaned into the Māori woman's embrace and let out a long sigh. She and Rowan had met for the first time just a little over a year ago now and only had the opportunity to spend one night together – just before her departure for NZ. Of course, there had been the Spirit Walk but she was unsure of whether that really counted.

"Yes, Aunt Pauline," Faith nodded without thinking and then froze. Where had that...? "Look, I'm sor..." she tried to backpedal.

"Shhh, Faith," Pauline interrupted her. "I'd be honoured if you were to think of me as your aunt. I haven't told you this before, but I'm unable to have children of my own. So, I have always considered the Faithful as my very large and somewhat crazy family. I would really like to welcome another favourite niece into the fold."

"Thanks," Faith murmured quietly, not really trusting her voice to function at a higher volume right now. She blinked her eyes rapidly a few times to get the damn sweat out of them. Of course she wasn't crying.

Standing up, Pauline pulled Faith to her feet as well. She gave the Slayer's butt a playful slap. "Now, hop."


There was morning, and there was evening, marking the next day. Miyoko had been drifting in and out of sleep for most of the day and now she faced a somewhat urgent issue. Her bladder was killing her. At first she had revelled in the fact that she could still use the required muscles to keep her from wetting the bed but the novelty of that was evaporating quite quickly. She had been given a button system with which to call for help but the damn thing had fallen to the floor. She gritted her teeth. 'Can't even cross my legs. This is so embarrassing.'

"Ummm... help?" she hazarded calling out.

Almost immediately two persons appeared in the doorway. Faith and the nurse... Silvia if she recalled correctly.

"Well, what can we do for you, Ms Nagisa?" the nurse requested in a fake-bright voice that was probably taught in nurse schools all over the world. She was somewhere in her mid-40s with a flaming red hair and huge cat-eye glasses. She had also lost the battle for a narrow waistline a long time ago.

"Gotta piss," Miyoko growled though clenched teeth. She was now clenching every muscle she had control of.

"Ah, yes," Silvia nodded sagely, and like a magician produced a large plastic bottle with a long neck and a breathing-mask-like nozzle. "Ms Lehane. Would you like to do the honours?"

"What, me?" Faith asked in shock.

"Yes. I thought your girlfriend would like it better if..."

Even though mildly shocked herself, Miyoko saw immediately that Faith was about to start protesting.

"Take the bottle and get over here, Faith-san," Miyoko snapped. There was no time for unnecessary niceties.

"You need to part her legs carefully," Silvia instructed helpfully as Faith was nervously trying to insert the nozzle in the correct place.

"Hear that?" Miyoko whispered with an impish grin. "You got official permission to get my legs spread."

"Shut up!" Faith grinned and did as she was instructed. She got the bottle in place under the covers and nodded to Miyoko.

"Aaahhh..." Miyoko moaned in ecstasy and relieved the pressure in her lower belly. By her bed Silvia checked the fluid drip and added a new one – presumably something of the painkiller variety now that she was fully conscious again.

"What's next?" Faith asked Miyoko with a wink as she handed the almost overflowing bottle to Silvia who left with it like it was every bit as precious as the World Cup trophy. "Shall I get myself a scanty nurse's outfit?"

"Hmmm... Nurse Faith," Miyoko hummed and made the face to indicate deep thinking. "I guess both your patients would enjoy that. How's he, by the way?"

"No change," Faith sighed. "At least he doesn't show any signs of changing. It's the third and final night of the full moon."

"I'm sorry," Miyoko offered sincerely and took Faith's hand. "Maybe it's different for... his kind or maybe it will take a full moon cycle to..."

"Yeah, maybe," Faith nodded quietly. The specifics of lycanthropy were not something she had spent too much time on studying – even with Oz around.

"I owe him my life," Miyoko admitted and then laughed. "You should have seen us before those damn spear-weaving creatures interrupted us. Ever since my grandfather died, I haven't gotten such a thrill out of crossing blades with someone. Oh, how I'm itching for a rematch, but now it seems it will have to be postponed indefinitely."

"You will have your match," Faith promised and squeezed Miyoko's hand reassuringly. "It might take a while, but you'll have it."

"Have what?" a somewhat groggy voice suddenly queried from the door.