LEGAL A/N: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belong to Joss Whedon, 20TH Century Fox Television, UPN, The WB and CW. 24 and all characters belong to Robert Cochran, Joel Surnow, 20TH Century Fox Television, Imagine Television, Real Time Productions and Fox Network. No profit is being made off of this and no copyright infringement is intended.

THE FOLLOWING TAKES PLACE BETWEEN 1:00 A.M. AND 2:00 A.M.

1:00:00 A.M. PST

Dawn stared up at Jack with astonishment and uncertainty as she sat against the brick wall of the alley. How did this stranger know her name? "Who are you?" she asked, rather demandingly. "Wh-What's going on?"

"My name is Jack Bauer," he answered with a calm voice, trying to ease her tension. "Everything's all right. I'm a friend of your sister's. I came to bring you back home—"

"How do I know you're telling the truth?"

"You don't," Jack answered. "You just have to trust me."

"I've never even heard of you," she snapped as she began to crawl backwards again.

"I know," he nodded, trying to give her as much space as he could without. "We just met tonight—"

"Why would my sister send someone who she just met tonight?" she demanded, her eyes wide and angry. "How could she trust you! She doesn't even know who you are!"

"You wanted to see her instead of me, I know," Jack replied simply and sympathetically. Dawn's mouth shut in an instant and she stared at him with peculiarity. "Judging from what I've seen tonight, your life is full of people who let you down. I'm not one of them." Her face was blank and stunned as he spoke with a gentle tenderness which was a brash difference from the monstrous demon-slayer that she had witnessed moments before. "She is worried about you," he assured her kindly. "You have no idea how much." He kneeled down in front of her, eyeing her carefully, "That was a bad fall; are you hurt?"

She shifted her weight a bit and grimaced. "I'm… I'll be fine," she replied. He extended her hand to her and she hesitantly took it. Carefully, he helped her up to a stand on her feet. He examined the scrapes on her arm and chin while he pulled a cell phone out of his pocket and began to dial.

1:03:29 A.M. PST

Buffy froze in her steps on the sidewalk in front of Xander's apartment complex as her pocket began to ring incessantly. She yanked out Tara's cell phone and noted the unknown number calling: (481) 516-2342.

She opened the phone quickly and asked nervously, "Did you find her?"

"She's here," Jack replied as Buffy took a breath of relief. "You were right; we're a couple of blocks from the Magic Box."

"Let me talk to her," Buffy heard Dawn request. A second later, she heard Dawn's voice on the line, "Buffy?"

"Yeah, Dawnie, it's me," she declared with a wide smile of jubilation that she couldn't contain. "Are you okay? Did anybody hurt you?"

"I'm okay," she replied. "Where are you?"

"I'm on the other side of town in front of Xander's house," Buffy replied. "I thought you might have come here… Listen, tell Jack to take you home and I'll meet you there."

"Buffy," Dawn began worriedly, "there's something I need to tell you—"

"It's okay, Dawn," she answered. "I'll meet you at home. Then we can talk about everything."

"But Buffy, the guys that were after me—"

"They're dead," Buffy declared. "Just start moving," she ordered sternly with a motherly tone. "I want you home as fast as possible." A few seconds later, Buffy hung up the phone, leaving Dawn hanging on the other line.

Dawn looked up at Jack with a deflated sigh as she handed the phone back to him. "I really hate it when she does that," she frowned.

1:08:19 A.M. PST

Xander and Willow sat on opposite sides of the floor of the fallen reference table inside of the Magic Box, neither having any chair to comfortably sit on. Around them were piles of thick books that Giles had left to them. The silver medallion sat on the floor between them where they could both see.

Xander rubbed his eyes tiredly. "This is hopeless," he sighed with frustration. "We're never going to find anything like this."

"I found something," Willow remarked as she stared down at a massive reference book in her lap. She picked up the medallion and compared it to the symbol in the book. "This is part of an amulet worn by the Harbingers," Willow announced proudly.

"Harbingers of what?" Xander asked.

"It's not that clear," she stated. "The text that explains it – it's all in a different language."

"Well that was real handy dandy," Xander rolled his eyes. "Thanks a bushel."

Willow glanced up at him in annoyance. "Do you want to help me or just sit on your ass and make more negative jokes?"

Xander was taken aback. "I'm sorry, Will," he sighed, staring down at the floor with a frown. "I just… I can't help feeling like there's more I should be doing than just sitting here."

Willow nodded understandingly. "I know how you feel," she replied. He glanced up at her shamefully.

"I'm… I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier," Xander declared regretfully. "I've got no right to ask you to use magic. There's no sense in risking yourself."

"Don't worry about it," she answered, then placed a hand on his shoulder. "We'll get her back, I promise." She pointed at her firm expression. "You remember what this is?"

He nodded with a slight snicker. "Resolve face." Xander stared at her gratefully, a warm smile stretching his face for the first time since Anya had disappeared. Willow glanced down at the text, then looked back up at him.

"Go look for a volume on Sumerian translation," Willow ordered. "There's a passage here that either refers to a great beast or… strangling poultry."

"I'm gonna go with the great beast," Xander declared as he stood up and headed for the back.

"Either way," Willow added, "I'd sure like to know a little about the great beast and how afraid we should be right now." The phone of the Magic Box rang as Xander passed it. He glanced back at Willow with a hopeful expression and grabbed the phone.

"Hello?" he replied.

"Xander?" Giles answered.

"Oh… Giles," Xander sighed. Willow stood up with wide eyes and went over to the phone as Xander's tone went grim. "It's you."

"I can tell you're elated," he responded.

"Anya's gone," he informed. "I think she's been taken. I was hoping that it was her."

"I'm very sorry to hear that," Giles replied, his heart sinking. "But I have some interesting news that might be related…"

"If you tell me you just saved a bunch of money on your car insurance," Xander answered with a deadpan tone, "I'm going to kill you."

"No," Giles responded, then began the report. "I've spoken to Buffy earlier and told her that Quinton Travers is under investigation by the Council."

"You think that has something to do with Anya?" Willow asked, putting her ear near the receiver. "And… hi."

"I'm not sure," Giles stated, "but he took a great deal of interest on Merrick. After doing some research, we found Merrick's name on a government list on an agency near Sunnydale. Somehow he's currently operating there in cohesion with Quinton and God knows who else."

"Oh, my god, Giles," Willow breathed, stunned. "Does Buffy know all of this?"

"No, I called hoping to tell her," he replied.

"How is this even possible?" Willow asked. "Merrick's dead."

"I honestly am not sure," Giles sighed. "But the Council is trying to get information from Quinton now. I know he's not going to talk easily."

"Unbelievable," Xander declared, crossing his arms with an inquisitive expression. "Who's Merrick?"

1:16:45 A.M. PST

Dawn and Jack walked hastily side-by-side down a dark street. In the distance, the clatter of a trashcan toppling over caught his attention. "Is this the fastest way to get back to your house?" Jack asked.

"Yeah," Dawn answered with a slight grimace with her steps. "Buffy makes me take it all the time." He glanced down at her to see the obvious trouble she was having walking at his pace.

He asked with concern, "Are you sure you're all right?"

"I think I might have twisted my ankle a little," Dawn breathed, but didn't slow down her speed. "I don't think I ever ran that fast in my whole life."

"You run track or something?"

"Nah," she shook her head. "Buffy won't let me do sports. I think she pictures me fatally-wounding myself in mid-hurdle or decapitating myself with my ice skates or something. I guess the only real exercise I get is running for my life. Which I'm surprisingly good at by now, but I doubt they give out any medals."

"She seems to keep a close watch over you," Jack observed. "What do your parents think?"

Dawn looked up at him with an awkward expression. "Oh…" she responded with a frown. "My mom… died. Last year."

"Oh," he said, wishing he could retract his statement. "I'm… I'm sorry. That must have been very hard."

"It was," Dawn sighed. Jack turned away and glanced at the road ahead in silent contemplation, Kim's tearful image at her mother's funeral coming into his mind. "And my dad," Dawn explained, "he's kinda not around. Buffy takes care of me now. She's all I have left." Jack thought of how Kim must feel thinking she's an orphan and all alone. He hoped that Chase would be strong enough to console her, but he had serious doubts.

Dawn glanced up at his brooding face. "So, um," she began, attempting to change the conversation with the hope that it would be lighter, "tell me about yourself."

Jack looked away again. "There's not much I can tell you."

"Oh," she said, staring up at him. "Okay… well. How about your parents? Can you tell me about them?" He couldn't help but laugh a bit despite himself. It reminded him that once a very long time ago Jack Bauer was something more than a monster.

"What do you want to know?" he asked.

"Where'd you grow up?"

"Not far from Los Angeles," he answered thoughtfully. He hadn't told anybody about his past in years, it seemed. "I wasn't really good at sports either. Had a crazy high school experience. Did a lot of things…" The words faded off into a smile as he added, "That I'm not particularly proud of now." He looked down to see Dawn smiling back, equally amused. "My parents," Jack continued, fading into memories, "were really nice. Decent people. Never believed in violence. Wouldn't hurt a fly."

She noticed that his tone got a little darker; his demeanor became a little sadder. "My stepfather was a total pacifist," Jack continued, mulling over his thoughts deeply as they walked through the night. "One night back when I was fifteen, he stopped at a convenience store for gas on the way home back from L.A. Somebody walked up to him and held a gun to his head… asked for all the money he had. He gave it to him – and his watch, and his credit card, and the keys to his car. The guy didn't even ask, but he gave it to him anyway."

Jack stared into the darkness ahead deeply. "Not because he was afraid," he explained, "but because he would've thought that a man so desperate to risk another man's life needed it." He swallowed hard, pushing out memories that had been long repressed in his mind. "And then he killed my stepfather. Just like that. Without another thought."

Dawn stared up at him, bewildered into silence. She was now the second person in the entire world that Jack had told the story to, Teri being the first. Jack continued to walk down the street, now rather aimlessly as he considered his actions and was astonished at himself. It was completely unlike him to blurt out those painful, old memories.

It was a comforting thought.

"What about your real dad?" Dawn asked curiously. "Who is he?"

"I don't know," Jack answered simply and truthfully. "I never met him."

Having the conversation brought up an important point in his mind. One of the reasons why he could never call his stepfather anything other than that is because he knew he wasn't his son. Jack Bauer – the man with seemingly no soul who had no problem taking another person's life if he felt the need – could never be the son of such a peaceful human being. The great Jack Bauer was less than human himself.

Whatever kind of monster that was related to him through paternal blood, he didn't even know his name. He didn't want to know.

1:23:11 A.M. PST

Buffy paced around the foyer of the Summers home anxiously. She had taken off into a run from the second she hung up Tara's cell phone. "What if something happened to them?" she asked nervously.

Tara, sitting on the staircase, shook her head, "Nothing's wrong. It's only been a few minutes."

"We have to assume that whoever took Anya is still out there," Buffy declared tensely. "Our vampire friends that tried to massacre us about an hour ago may be dead, but they have to be related to Anya's kidnappers somehow."

"It'll be okay," Tara declared firmly. "I wouldn't lie to you if I didn't think it was true." Buffy turned around and gazed at Tara with a slightly awed expression.

"Thank you," she responded, but frowned and turned away. "I know you're trying to help, and you are, but I just—"

The door swung open as Buffy spun around and saw a tall man in black leaning in the doorway, blood dripping down the frame. Spike stared at her with a wide-eyed expression as he held himself up against the door.

"Spike," she whispered incredulously as she stared at him. Slowly, her shock turned to bitter fury. In a flash, Buffy grabbed Spike and threw him on the ground of the living room. She pulled back her fist and slammed it into his jaw.

"You son of a bitch!" she screamed, her pent-up rage at herself and him igniting. "You didn't think ruining my life was enough?" She battered him with another punch. "Is this how you wanted to get back at me!" Buffy devastatingly punched him again. "You could have gotten her killed!"

"Buffy, stop!" Tara yelled as she jumped to her feet, but was useless against her heartbroken rage.

"Buffy…" he grunted.

"What?" she frantically shouted. "What more do you want from me? What's it going to take?" She suddenly felt two strong hands grab her as she was yanked off of Spike from behind.

"Calm down!" Jack ordered as he pulled her with all of his strength. He felt the power of the Slayer as he slowly dragged her back across the floor of the foyer. To Tara and Dawn's surprise, he was somehow able to withstand her fighting.

"Buffy, don't!" she heard Dawn shriek. Buffy froze and stopped her rabid struggle as she looked up at her little sister's stunned and aghast face. "Spike was trying to help me! He helped me escape!"

Her green eyes were wide open and her face was frozen into a horrified state, revolted by her own behavior from the moment Willow breathed life into her corpse to the present. Jack glanced down to catch a side-glimpse of Buffy's face as her eyes fell to her crimson-stained hands, Spike's blood covering them.

A long, shaky breath came out of her lips as she stared down at them, the sharp lines and reflections becoming a swift blur. Jack lifted her off of the ground and pulled her into the kitchen, walking through the broken glass until they reached the back door. He pushed the door open and stepped out onto the back porch just as she burst into tears.

He quickly drew her into his arms, folding them around her. "It's okay," he repeated, attempting to comfort her to the best of his ability. "Shh… It's okay…" The both of them shrouded in darkness, she sobbed on his shoulder almost uncontrollable, releasing a river of sorrow that seemed to be building for months. "It's okay now," he whispered.

"No," she cried, her voice shaking. "No, it's not…" He felt her tremble as she continued in between short, desperate breaths, "This-this is my fault… I-I should've never trusted him… I should've… never let him in."

"Buffy, listen—"

"You don't know…"

"You've slept with him," Jack declared. "I know." He felt every muscle in her body immobilize as she slowly pushed away from him, looking up at him with wet, mortified eyes. "You don't have to be ashamed and you don't have to explain anything," he quickly replied. "I've been in your position before."

She shook her head as she gazed up at him, stunned. "How did you—?"

"The disgust in your eyes," Jack answered. "And the guilt." Buffy stared at him motionlessly; she couldn't move a limb. He glanced back towards the front of the house, and then looked down at her. "Your friends don't know, do they?"

"Please don't tell them," she whispered as a tear rolled down her face. Jack reached up and wiped away the drop with his thumb.

"It's not my position to say anything," he quietly answered.

Buffy stepped back, regaining her composure again. She stared down into the darkness as she leaned back against the door. Jack remained close to her as she idly began, "I'm supposed to be protecting her from anything. Everything."

"You can't protect your sister from the world," Jack stated with reason. "You're not really supposed to."

Buffy shook her head in protest. "Jack—"

"Look, I understand that I'm new to this fight," he answered quickly. "But I'm not new to fighting. I think you and I have a lot more in common than you realize."

"I've saved the world five times," Buffy declared, with a slightly childish, challenging tone.

"I've done it at least four times," Jack said.

"I've died twice."

"So have I."

"My friends and I were possessed by the power of a tap-dancing demon who forced us to sing and dance in our own musical."

Jack stared at her blankly in stunned silence. "Well," he stated after a few moments. "That's definitely something I haven't done." Jack remembered back to his days at CTU and the friends and foes he dealt with. "And for that I'm extremely grateful," he added under his breath.

"I was chosen for this job," Buffy declared seriously. "I was chosen to have this power, and to make the hard decisions, and to—"

"That's not why you're here," Jack stated simply, cutting her off. She looked up at him in confusion as he clarified, "You're here by your choice. You are who you choose to be."

She glanced down in contemplation. Grimly, she asked, "Then why I am like this?"

Jack looked over at her. Yet another comparison. His eyes fell to the ground. "Maybe," he responded with a slight sense of hope, "because it's the right thing."

She stared up at him, witheringly as she shook her head. "How do you know for sure?"

He sighed softly, staring into the darkness, "You don't."

1:32:59 A.M. PST

Anya opened her eyes and stared up at a darkened, white ceiling. Her head began to throb incessantly as she reached up and clutched it in agony. Anya realized that her hands were now unbound and she was left freely in a dark room, wherever she was. Her eyes rolled around and she found herself in a small white cell eight feet in length and eight feet in width.

She was surrounded by empty space and blank, padded walls on three sides. On the fourth side, she gasped as she saw a dirty, smudged glass wall with two vampires standing guard, staring at her hungrily. The cell was dimly lit and looked as if it hadn't been kept in years, with a blanket of dust on every inch of the walls and floor.

"Hey!" she spitefully declared. "I don't know what you're thinking, but you'd better let me go or they'll be cleaning you up with a Swiffer!" The two male vampires glowered at her with smiles on their demonic faces. "My friend is the Slayer!" Anya spat. "Well, she's more like my fiancé's friend; we don't really hang out that much. But that doesn't matter! I bet she's on her way right now… or soon. After she has a small emotional breakdown or something. She'll be really pissed off!"

"That's what we're counting on," a British-accented voice declared. Suddenly, a man appearing to be in his late sixties stepped out of the shadows, standing nearly six-and-a-half feet tall. Anya gazed at him with wide eyes, taking in his features as he gazed at her with sharp, blue eyes. Dark and light gray hairs protruded from his chin and upper lip in a thick mustache and beard. The man wore a dark green fedora and a matching raincoat with an old, plaid scarf around his neck that covered an old hunter green collared shirt and dark slacks. His eyebrows pointed upwards as he stared at her with large, deep eyes and a somewhat twisted smile.

He sauntered up to the glass wall with his hands casually behind his back. Anya gazed at him with a bewildered expression. This was no simple vampire. She was almost certain that it wasn't a vampire at all.

"Hello, Anyanka," he said with a soft, round tone that poured from his lips like honey. He was completely and utterly unafraid of anything that she had to threaten him with, and in fact he quite enjoyed her struggle.

1:40:10 A.M. PST

Spike lay on the floor beneath a lamp with his shirt removed as Jack moved across him with a pair of needle nose pliers. Buffy stood over them as she gazed down at the bullet holes in his chest. Tara and Dawn were standing in the foyer out of the sight of the blood and gore. Dawn had changed out of her filthy sleepwear and into fresh clothes after the quickest shower of her life.

Spike grunted in pain as Jack removed the final bullet and quickly wiped away the wound. He glanced up at Buffy, who had also changed into a red sweater and blue jeans. "I'm out of bandages."

"I'll get some more," she said, and walked out of the room leaving Jack and Spike behind.

"You haven't got the kindest hands, doc," Spike said through gritted teeth.

With a careless face, Jack reached for a bottle of rubbing alcohol and washed the wound. "Do all vampires whine this much?" Jack asked with a stone face.

"And what the hell do you know about it?" Spike spat, glaring up at him with instant dislike. "Who are you anyway?"

"I saved your ass from a beating about twenty minutes ago," Jack answered simply. "And I just pulled every bullet fragment out of your body when I feel like I should be putting them back in." In the kitchen, they both heard the telephone ringing as Buffy answered it.

"Hmm," Spike laughed angrily, his wounded flesh burning. "Let me guess – the Slayer make you her new G.I. Joe toy?" Jack ignored his comments as he continued to clean his wounds. "That's so like her," he continued with a bitter smile. "Take a walk on the dark side, then run for the goody-two-shoes, Captain America-type to get between her knees whenever she feels dirty eno—"

Jack snatched his jaw shut and glared down into his eyes. "I was trained to be an effective, obedient solider with no enemies other than those to his country and who only uses force as a last resort in the name of justice," he whispered intensely as the vampire stared up and listened. Jack shook his head with a half-smile. "Trust me when I say the only part of that training that's still with me is the 'effective' part."

"Don't even think you can scare me, you twit," Spike threatened after Jack released his mouth. "I was trained to kill and torture hundreds of people. All of that stuck with me."

Jack stared at him, and replied with a slight sense of self-loathing, "Well, there's one thing we've got in common."

Spike eyed him bitterly and resentfully. "You don't belong here," he grinned. "You won't make it through the night."

"Well I'm here now," Jack answered with a dead-serious expression. He leaned in close into a whisper, "And if you don't start minding your mouth around her and her friends, you won't be."

Buffy walked in and handed Jack the bandages as she announced, "That was Willow." Tara and Dawn walked into the living room as Jack placed the final bandage on Spike.

"Did they find Anya?" Tara asked.

"No," Buffy answered. "But they might have an idea of who's behind all this. That's why we need to get down to the Magic Box right away. Tara, Willow said that she needed your opinion on an amulet that they found that might have belonged to one of the kidnappers."

"I'm there," Tara nodded.

"Jack, the second we find out who's got Anya," Buffy declared, "I want your help tracking them down and getting her back."

"Sure," he responded as he came to a stand, wiping his hands off with a wet towel. "There are some things I'd like to get from my apartment – it's on the way to the Magic Box."

"That's fine," she agreed. With a sigh, she looked down at Spike as he picked himself off of the ground. "How are you feeling?"

"Nice of you to ask," Spike bitterly answered.

Guiltily, she replied, "Look, I'm so—"

"I'm peachy," Spike cut her off, saving everyone the trouble. "What do you need?"

"Everything you know, if you can make it to the car," Buffy answered.

"I can make it."

"Good," she said.

"What about me?" Dawn asked.

Buffy turned to her with a determined face of resolve. "Get some things for the night," she ordered. "You're going to Clem's."

"Clem?" she exclaimed. "No, thank you. I don't think an all-night marathon of Welcome Back, Kotter is gonna help me right now. I'm going with you."

"Dawn," she sighed, "I don't—"

"I want to stay with Jack," she snapped with finality. Buffy glanced over at him as he looked over at Dawn with surprise. She turned back to her sister to see that she was determined to have her way.

"Dawn," Jack caringly responded, "I think your sister knows what's best."

"Does she?" Dawn challenged in frustration as she turned back to her sister with a glare. "You ever think that maybe I could help with the information? I mean, I was chased across town by these people, right?"

"I know," Buffy nodded with concern. "You've been through a terrible experience and that's—"

"I didn't ask for your sympathy," Dawn cut her off with strong reason in her voice. "I asked that you not treat me like a little kid… just this once."

Buffy stared at her blankly, still with strong reservations. She turned to Tara who gave her a shrug, then looked over at Jack with a hopeless expression. Jack tenderly replied, "It's, uh… usually customary to debrief everyone involved in an incident." He glanced over at Dawn, then back at Buffy. "I think she's… got a point."

"She would be safe," Tara added in Dawn's defense. Buffy turned to her with an incredulous expression. "I mean, we'll all be there, so… what better place, right?"

"Canada," Buffy answered flatly. She turned to Dawn with a tired, frustrated look. "Fine," she sighed. "You're coming. Now let's go." She turned and marched out of the living room, grabbing her coat and walking out of the front door. Dawn turned back to Jack and Tara with an excited and grateful face.

1:52:07 A.M. PST

Buffy stood alone in the darkened and simple living room of Jack's downtown single-bedroom apartment. She gazed around at the simple, chipping linoleum flooring and the small television set against the wall with an old, overstuffed loveseat in front of it. Wallpaper was missing from some places on the wall and the dark curtains covering the single window, from a fashionably conscious point of view, were not terribly inviting either. Staring around at the apartment, it didn't really feel like home at all with nothing personal or special lying about. It was more like a hotel room, the owner of which having to wash away every part of his previous life before he entered.

With a creak of the floor below, Buffy swung her head towards the entrance of the bedroom and saw Jack emerge wearing a dark grey, short-sleeve collared shirt over a black T-shirt and dark blue jeans. Buffy turned away from him as he walked in, finding herself agreeing and distracted with his outfit in a non-platonic way. She cleared her throat with a half-smile on her shadowed face. "You, uh… clean up nicely."

Jack looked up at her with surprise, seeing her with her back towards him, which allowed him to crack a pleased smile with a self-satisfied feeling. It hadn't been so long that he didn't remember what it was like for a woman to say something flirtatious to him.

"Anything cleans up better than that uniform," Jack coolly responded.

"I'll say," she softly laughed with a slight smile as she turned around to him again. She noticed that he was pulling a screwdriver out of a toolbox tucked beside the couch.

"Follow me," he declared as he turned around and entered his bedroom again. Buffy glanced around at the living room once more before following him into the darkness of his room.

Jack flicked on the light switch and moved hastily to a vent on the wall. He kneeled down beside it and began to unscrew the screws one-by-one. In a matter of seconds, the vent cover was free as he removed it and pulled out a black gym bag, placing it on his small twin bed.

"I'm really not getting the feeling that's where you hide your stash of Butterfinger bars," Buffy frowned, staring down at it in confusion. He unzipped the bag to reveal a small survival pack of guns, ammunition, walkie-talkies, a separate tool kit, a global positioning system unit and a PDA-cell hybrid. Jack lifted up a pistol and placed a magazine cartridge inside, cocking it back like second-nature.

"But I am getting the feeling that in the six months you've been dead our government's saved over a million dollars in ammunition," Buffy declared, stunned.

"That sounds about right," Jack nodded as he placed the gun in a holster on his belt. He lifted a smaller pistol out of the bag and kneeled down, placing it in the holster on his ankle beneath the right leg of his jeans. He retrieved a shotgun from the sack and inspected it for a few seconds, then held it out for Buffy.

"Uh…" she protested, holding up a hand as she stared at it as if it were an alien object. "Thanks, but… that's… not my style."

"What do you mean?" Jack asked with confusion. "I think you should take it."

"I've been fighting demons a little longer than you have," Buffy replied with playfully omniscient demeanor. Jack's shoulders dropped with the gun and a small scoff as he slumped incredulously. "And I can already tell you – that's not gonna work."

Jack lifted up the shotgun, cocking it and aiming over Buffy's right shoulder. She ducked and spun around, startled to see a beefy vampire standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Jack pulled the trigger and fired the shell, the shot exploding and dissipating at the vampire's neck, dusting him in seconds.

Buffy stared up at Jack as she came to a bewildered stand. He glanced over at her as she stared at him in confusion. "What?" he explained. "I've seen Evil Dead." Buffy stared back at the doorway in awe as Jack turned towards the pile of dust on the floor. "Wait a second, I thought you said that vampire's couldn't enter unless they were invi—"

"Who owns this apartment?" Buffy asked with worry.

Jack answered, "Uh… the landlord, technically, just for the first month until I can pay—"

"The landlord's dead," Buffy grimly declared. She reached to the back of her jeans and pulled a stake out of her waistband. "Time to put the Boomstick to use." Seconds later, two more vampires rushed through the door as Jack cocked the shotgun. One of the vamps immediately hit the floor before Jack fired and decapitated the other.

Buffy countered the second vamp as she spun around and roundhouse kicked it in the face, knocking him to the floor. Jack leapt over the downed vamp and rushed towards the living room where another was rushing in through the door.

Buffy grabbed the vampire on the floor and lifted him off of the ground, throwing him into a wall. The vampire blocked her next punch, then kneed her in the stomach, followed by a devastating back-fist punch which sent her rolling across the floor.

Jack used the butt of the gun to knock the vampire across the face and then used it to block one of the vamp's punches. Moments later, the vampire hooked him with a punch to the face, which felt like a sack of bricks and threw Jack to the ground. He hit the floor on his back and rolled out of the way of the vampire's heel slamming into the ground near his head.

Jack cocked the shotgun again and fired up at the vampire's head. He closed his eyes as a rain of dust fell upon him and two more vampires joined the fight, a female and a male rushing through the door in vampface.

Buffy rolled with a backwards somersault into a crouching position as she blocked a low kick from the vampire. She jumped up and side-kicked the vampire in the ribs, back-fisted him across the face, then spun around and drove her stake into his heart.

Jack came to his feet and aimed for the male vampire's head as the female raced around him and kicked him in the back. The barrel pointed downwards as the shot spread into the floor and the male vampire kicked Jack in the jaw. He flew backwards and landed on his spine, pain shooting through his ribcage as the air burst out of his lungs.

In a blink, the female vampire grabbed Jack by the throat and glared down into his eyes with sharp, hungry fangs. The male vampire was suddenly thrown against the wall by the Slayer, distracting the female. Jack grabbed her by the shoulders and threw her off of him. The female leapt onto her feet and shoved Jack aside while she battled with Buffy.

The vampire woman landed three punches into her chest, and then spun around for a roundhouse kick. Buffy blocked the kick, shoving her foot back down, and then she hooked the vamp in the face, knocking her into a wall. Buffy lifted her stake up and drove it into the vampire's chest, dusting her within seconds.

The male vampire was already on his feet and rushing towards Buffy when the Slayer sensed his approach. She spun around as the vampire lifted his left leg and attempted to deliver a horrible kick to her head, but Jack appeared out of nowhere and caught his leg. With a slight yank and an atrocious crack, the vampire howled and toppled to the floor, his dislocated leg falling out of place behind him.

Buffy lifted her stake and was about to finish the job when Jack caught her hand. "No," he ordered. She turned to him in shock.

"What?"

"Don't kill him," Jack explained. They stared down at the downed, screaming vampire that tried to pull his thigh back in the socket of his pelvis. "He's not walking anywhere. We can interrogate him."

"Get information from him?" Buffy exclaimed in disbelief. "Look, these guys are demons. They take blood oaths and sacrificial vows to evil gods which they carry with them to hell. I don't think anyone can make them talk."

Jack glared down at the vampire coldly, feeling more like Federal Agent Jack Bauer than he had in months. "I can."


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