AN: Hey, look, I got a review and, since the chapter was done, here it is. Any questions you might have regarding this freaky crossover may be fielded to me, loves and I shall answer as best I can. Anyway, I appreciate any feedback you all may have for me and sincerely hope you enjoy this chapter.

Buffy fans are the best... you always review... right...?

Come On

Chapter Two

Seattle, 2006

Andrew Wells had, when she ate another one of his Hot Pockets, punched Faith hard as he could in her arm. Now, of course, the geek had been unable to actually harm her in any form yet the brunette had proceeded to chase his skinny ass through the Cleveland two-story house like a dog before tackling him and getting a hold of him, proceeding to drag him to the bathroom.

The horrified look in Xander's eye should have been a hint of the torture to be inflicted on him.

Three hours later, she had left his bedroom, the remains of his Jedi Special Edition action figures littering the ground like broken bodies, having been taken to with a hammer. A glance to the back of his bedroom door had revealed the young man, bound by duct tape and gagged, hanging from a hook, to be rescued by a giggling Xander.

It had been the beginning of the Geek vs. Slayer war, now infamous among those who knew the Slayer and the almost good-guy who was known to dress the littlest Slayers in Star Trek wear every Halloween. Despite Willow's many attempts to keep him away from the Sunny Potential preschool, he always found his way there, every Halloween, much to the consternation of the witch and Giles.

In the last year and a half, there had been many fatalities, including several pairs of leather pants (found studded with the words 'Backstreet Boys Rule!' in bright pink), the Special Edition Star Wars DVD boxed set (the DVDs found carved up with the words 'Star Wars sucks' on each and hung above his bedroom door like a string of garland), a knife (now smelling permanently like garlic and onions), and Faith's latest retaliation, spray painting Andrew's Darth Vader costume bright pink.

Hunching more deeply into his trench coat, Andrew shot the shape in the truck a dirty look, considering his next attack on her. However, a second later, he swallowed back a soft squeak of fear when he noticed the shape at the end of the alley, lumbering toward him, a low dragging sound coming with it.

Perhaps it was a headless corpse, he though, backing up so quickly that he smacked against the wall. Perhaps the gruesome remains of a demon who had decided that it was more evil and demonic than he was, perhaps it was a tail edged with razor-sharp spines or other not nice things, perhaps it was…

Andrew stared at the black garbage bag for a moment before glancing at the demon, who stared back with beady yellow eyes. "Is there a headless corpse in there?" A shake of a head, the dim lights above them glinting off the curling horns adorning the head. "Are there gruesome remains of a demon who tried to whoop your ass?"

"No, kid…" He moved the bag closer, opened it up and revealed its contents. "It's my trash." This so stated, he hefted the bag and tossed it into the Dumpster at Andrew's side before wiping off his hands on his bathrobe with a noise of disgust. "Now… who're you again, kid?"

"Andrew."

The demon stared, blinked before reaching up to scratch a horn with one long talon. "Smart and sassy demon conjurer… Watcher in training… anti-hero…" Yellow eyes remained blank, the arm dropping down to his side and Andrew heaved a sigh, scuffing a foot against the grimy ground before snapping, "I'm Tucker's brother."

"Oh!" With a rough laugh that made Andrew think of two bricks rubbing together, he slammed a talon down on Andrew's shoulder hard enough to make the young man wobble on his feet. Tugging down the lapels of his trench coat in annoyance he adjusted his fedora with a sniff. "Tucker… now there was a demon conjurer… where is he by the way…?"

"Mental hospital," Andrew chirped absently. "But he's a favorite and all the nurses love him best."

"Good for him." The demon stretched, sighing, before eying the young man with those cat-like eyes of his. "So why'd Tucker's little bro call up Bubba Joe after all these years?"

"Bubba Joe?" Faith laughed, stepping up close to Andrew and elbowing him the smallest bit. "I thought the twerp was just joking about that name. You're really called Bubba?" The demon snorted, shrugging. "In my dimension, Bubba is the finest of names… I don't get the laughter about it… what's the joke?"

"Nothing," both voices responded and there was an awkward pause before Bubba Joe said, "What's all this trouble with getting me for some talk?"

"Seer," Faith chirped, hooking her thumbs into the belt loops of her jeans and leaning back on her heels for a moment, studying the horned demon with doe-eyes and curved lips. "We've been getting all kinds of information but nothing really useful… a friend of ours says it might be connected to all the Slayers."

"Slayers?" An odd quality there, in the demon's voice and Faith moved slightly, shifting her weight the smallest bit and turning, better to protect Andrew if the Bubba guy went for him.

"Girls, super-strength, usually good with quips and fashion sense, almost always travel in packs these days."

"From what I heard, there aren't enough to travel in packs these days." Silence then, yellow eyes meeting dark ones and Faith cocked her head, trying to figure out the something in the back of his gaze that was making the muscles in her back tighten up in wary awareness. "From what I hear, they've been getting taken down left and right… what does the Bunny think of this?"

"It's Buffy," Andrew offered and Faith rolled her eyes, jerking her elbow back and ramming it, almost gently, into his gut, causing him to groan and sink to the ground. "What do you know about this?" she snapped at the demon, who flicked a glance at the crumbled male and then back at the dark Slayer.

"Just what I heard…" He stopped, seeming to hesitate, rolling his shoulders uneasily. "Look, Bunny… Buffy… Magic-Fluffy-Girl... whatever her name is, give her a message from the underworld, huh?" Another pause, even more uneasy than before and the sight of him wringing his talons together like a nervous kid would no doubt stick in her head for years. "You can't cheat in the Big Game. It isn't done because bad things always happen."

"Big Game?" Faith edged cautiously and Bubba took a small step back, shooting her a look before straightening, apparently trying to regain whatever control over his own fear that had been weakening. "What about this Seer we're wondering about…?"

"Just tell her about the Big Game," he snarled and then he spun, taking off at a surprising speed, massive bulk seeming to flit from shadow to shadow before simply vanishing. Gone, just like that after telling her some weird cryptic shit and with Andrew still crumpled at her feet, groaning.

"Come on," she hissed, bending and grabbing his arm, pulling him up before heading back to the truck, shoving him into the passenger seat and swinging up into her own, starting the ignition and unhooking her cell phone from her belt, passing it to Andrew with a silent order.

The only real connection she had left to Pine Valley, her half-sister Kendall Hart, was surprisingly unstrained these days, eased by the phone calls they shared once or twice a week and visits home for the holidays. Bianca was okay with Kendall visiting her place but she couldn't stand the thought of Erica Kane running in and remodeling.

Bianca liked her home exactly as it was… usually… except for that whole completely alone thing…

Now, with a sigh of disgust, Bianca Christine Montgomery picked at her plate of shrimp fettuccini, not really hungry but making herself take a bite every few minutes. Dark eyes intent of the food and concentrating on making herself eat, she jumped about a mile when Jonathon Lavery slid into the seat opposite hers, regarding her with his cool dark stare.

"What?" she snapped finally, squirming the smallest bit beneath the force of his gaze and favoring him with a bit of a glare, the edges of her consciousness aching with the headache she could feel brewing in her skull and not in the mood for the usual cryptic crap of the closest thing she had to a friend.

Wasn't that pathetic?

"Did the pills work?"

"Yeah." She dropped the fork down the bowl, reaching up to massage her temple with two fingertips and he received one of her nastier glances, a shadow of pain hovering in the back of that dark gaze of hers, a weakness that he recognized and quickly slipped away. "Yeah… then they wore off at about three in the morning and I nearly had a stroke."

"Why?"

"Nothing." She shook her head, more for herself than him and then looked away from him, clearing her throat, her hands moving restlessly across her face and neck, unhappy shifts that matched her mood. "When I called you last night you didn't pick up so I gotta ask as a pissed-off woman with a migraine, why didn't you answer me?"

"I was busy… are you gonna finish this?" At her shrug, he scooted her picked-at bowl closer and, wiping off the fork with a quick flick of his wrist, he began eating, twisting to scoop up noodles, gulping it down and swallowing and when she glanced up, she quickly looked away, her stomach lurching at the sight.

By the time the nausea had dissipated, Jonathon had basically finished and was running a piece of the untouched bread along the edges, scooping up whatever sauce he could. "Jonathon?" Her voice was slightly weak and he mumbled something around the bread that she took as an answer, asking as calmly as she could, "Haven't you eaten yet today?"

"Not yet." He coughed once, swallowing the last bit before wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand. "I've been running around for a while, went to sleep late, woke up early and I haven't been still long enough to actually get something to eat." He leaned back, dropping one arm over the back of his seat, offering her a cocked eyebrow.

"Good for you." Wanting to get out of the brightly restaurant very suddenly and needing to take something strong, Bianca pulled her wallet out of her bag and plucking a fifty out. Passing it to him, she shoved the wallet back into her bag and dug out the glasses that had become her constant companion, slipping them on. "Pay for my food and get yourself something, okay? The last thing I need is for you to die of starvation the day I decide I need your help on something."

"Mm-kay, sugar momma." When she simply gave him a look, and he didn't need to see her eyes to know she was glaring, he smirked, cocking that stupid eyebrow again. "I feel like a hotter and more dashing Kevin," he chuckled and she gave a sigh, standing and leaving him alone to order something for himself, heading for the door.

Stepping out, she managed to get five steps before slamming into something that was barreling for the door. Staggering back and grabbing onto something that felt like a trashcan, she caught a flash of dark hair and a hint of a waitress's uniform beneath a heavy coat before the person was gone, restaurant door closing behind her.

Bianca stood there for a moment, side throbbing from the force of the collision before, with a grimace and general swearing toward all waitresses, she headed for her car, tossing in her bag to the passenger seat and dropping into her own. A split second, catching sight of the female face in the back seat, she jerked, hand flying to her throat in surprise.

The figment of her imagination, which of course it was, looked more than a little bit annoyed, dark eyes skimmed with anger and face stony. "You're really pissing me off, you know…" When Bianca looked away forcefully, trying to put the key in to the ignition, the figment of her imagination—or, maybe, a symptom of her apparent breakdown—made a noise of disgust, shaking her head. "Look… stop ignoring me."

Bianca continued to ignore her, finally managing to start the ignition and refusing to look at the female in the backseat, someone who wasn't really there because the girl, whoever she was, clearly wasn't there. She wasn't real and she wasn't there and for a moment Bianca closed her eyes, focusing on the presence that she was so acutely aware of.

When she looked back up at the rearview mirror, there was nothing there and she worked not to give in to the almost hysterical relief. It was getting harder to do that, getting harder to make the things and people go away. This one though was more difficult than most, frighteningly persistent and she wondered if it was a sign that he really was losing her mind, that she could no longer control any part of it.

With something effectively under control, at least for now, Bianca pulled out of the parking lot, heading for her offices, intent on not having any more problems today.