Disclaimer: Not mine.

Thanks to Oxnate for beta-reading.

This Year's Boy

By Kylia

Chapter 12: Preparing for Exchange

February 25th, 2000

Secure Room, Wolfram and Hart L.A.

Faith still hated having time to think.

The bastard lawyer who'd stuck her in here hadn't dropped by at all since she was tossed in, but she had had a visitor. Someone had come by with food, some terrified looking kid right outta college if not younger - intern, probably - with a security goon behind him. Until she'd seen the guard in his black outfit with body armor and the gun, Faith had contemplated trying to attack the guy, but...

No point in it now.

The lawyers don't lose enough. Faith was going to make these bastards suffer, somehow. For what they'd done to her.

She didn't have a lot of ways to do that, but she did have one way. One idea. And it'll fuck with B and Xander and all the rest too. Just like they deserve. They all owed her - the whole goddamn world owed her, and if she couldn't have what was hers, couldn't be The Slayer, couldn't have B's perfect life...

Oh, like you wouldn't have fucked it up yourself anyway, bitch, a little voice in the back of Faith's head pointed out, sounding like her drunk whore of a mother in the middle of a bender.

It would have been nothing more than Buffy deserved, Faith shot back, ignoring the doubt niggling at her mind. Her record of failure, all she ever tried.

Couldn't save Diana.

Couldn't kill Kakistos without help.

Couldn't be a Slayer even half as good as little miss perfect Buffy.

Couldn't have Buffy.

Couldn't have a watcher worth a damn.

Couldn't kill Angel, couldn't save the Mayor...

Faith pressed her hands to the sides of her head, trying to will the thoughts from her head. None of that was her fault. NONE. She was lied to and used and -

You screwed up. You always do.

Faith let out a scream of frustration, grabbing the tiny pillow off the bed and throwing it at the door, then the empty plastic tray she'd had for food, then the plastic cup, now empty of water.

She was stuck here until she could escape, or until Xander dusted Angel, or he and his friends broke in and got her. And then it was back to her body and then - fuck, who the hell knew what they'd do? Put her in prison? B wasn't that stupid, no jail could hold her, no cops could stop her. Not when she was in her body.

If I was in my body, I could handle all those stupid goons, guns or not, she told herself confidently. But she wasn't.

Xander will never dust Angel. B won't let him, and the boy's way too fucking whipped to ever think about doing something she wouldn't like. She'd told herself that over and over again. Which really meant...

Fuck, she really was stuck here, or stuck waiting on B and her little buddies to rescue her.

Faith looked at the plastic tray again. It had bounced off the door and landed away from the door. Maybe close enough that she could get it. Probably afraid of giving her a weapon, she hadn't had any metal cutlery, not that she'd needed it for the sandwich they'd given her. But plastic could be sharp too, if you broke it right.

Sharp enough to hurt, but sharp enough to do what I need? Faith was going to find a way to win, one way or another. She had lost enough. She was going to get out, or get back at everyone who screwed her over. One way or another.

I'm not a failure, and I'm going to prove it.

Everyone would regret it, they'd regret screwing her over. Xander would regret it. Buffy would. Red. Giles. Wesley. Angel. And if she could manage it right, she'd make these fucking lawyers regret it.

One way or another.

Pushing herself off the floor, Faith walked over towards the fallen tray, the end of the chain pulling taut right as she was able to reach it, though only if she stretched in Xander's not remotely limber enough body.

She pulled it closer to her and picked it up, walking back to the bed and bringing the tray down as hard as she could onto the metal frame. The sound of the hard plastic against the metal rang dully through the room, but she was rewarded by the sight of a crack forming in the plastic.

I'd rather have glass, but I guess they were smart enough to not give me that.

She smashed the tray against the frame again.

February 25th, 2000

Angel's Apartment, Los Angeles

Xander blinked, then cleared his throat. "Did they already agree to that?"

"Not yet," Collins confirmed. "But I can make the call, assuming midnight sounds appropriate for you."

"The sooner the better," Xander let out a long breath - feeling like he'd let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Even if he hadn't been. "But we probably need time to like... plan, in case Wolfram and Hart tries a double-cross, right?"

"You're catching on," Collins sounded surprised.

Gee, tell me how you really feel about me. Sure, Xander knew he wasn't as smart as his friends, but he wasn't an idiot.

"Midnight affords us a certain amount of privacy, allows Angel to be there for... assistance, if need be, and gives us enough time to plan contingencies." He spoke with great confidence, even if Xander doubted it would be that simple.

"Midnight then," Xander agreed. Xander heard the phone being passed again, and then it was back to Willow.

"Don't worry, we'll make sure we get your body back," Willow assured him. "Tara and I should be able to throw up some sort of wards so the lawyers can't bring more people than there's an agreement to, or whatever."

"Are you sure? You've been doing a lot of magic today." Xander didn't really know if there was like... a way to 'run out' of magic, or anything like that, but he didn't want Willow to strain herself or anything. Or Tara either, for that matter.

"I'll be fine," Willow dismissed his concerns with a light scoff. "Especially with Tara's help. She really knows her stuff."

"You two have been spending a lot of time together then?" Xander asked. "I was meaning to ask you about her, since I only met her for the first time the other day."

"We met at the wicca group on campus," Willow explained. "Everyone else there's just a bunch of wanna-blessed-bes, but Tara knew her magic way better than me, or even Giles." There was a slightly indignant sound of protest from Giles in the background, and Xander liked to imagine the older man was probably cleaning his glasses at the same time. "What? It's true," Willow defended her statement to Giles. Xander didn't catch the words the watcher responded with, but then Willow went on.

"Her mom was a witch, and her grandmother before her, and so on," Willow explained. "She's got this spellbook that's five generations old, each one adding new spells and stuff."

Xander chuckled, "Sounds right up your alley then. Well, if you're sure it won't be too much... ward away. See you when you get back." After Willow's 'see ya', Xander hung up.

He didn't know if he believed Willow - she wasn't perfect about knowing her own limits when it came to burning the midnight oil with studying and stuff, and she'd pushed herself to the limit with the spell to give Angel his soul back...

But he also knew that arguing with his friend would just get him the resolve face, and she wouldn't back down on the point, no matter what.

"So you'll be getting your body back tonight?" Anya asked. "That's good,"

"Very," Xander agreed. "At least assuming Wolfram and Hart agree to the trade..."

"They will," Anya said confidently. "They won't be happy about it, but they really do only care about their bottom line."

"And assuming they don't try to screw us over," Cordelia pointed out. "Like you said - can't trust them at all. Wolfram and Hart are evil."

"Very, but they're a business." Anya shrugged. "They can be honorable... as long as it benefits them," she added.

"Well, it would benefit them to keep lying, so I think I'll stick with not trusting the evil lawyers," Cordelia countered. "I'll go talk to Wesley and Angel." Cordelia stood up, and headed over to the elevator.

Anya sat down next to Xander on the couch. "Well, at least this mess is almost over, assuming nothing goes wrong and all the magic works right." She smiled at Xander. "Looking forward to having your body back?"

"Yeah," Xander let out a sigh. "I mean, it's kind of nice being able to beat vampires up super well and all that, and there was a..." Xander paused for a moment, trying to find a good way to put it. He looked down at 'his' chest.

"It was kind of fun to have boobs for a few days?" Anya suggested, and Xander couldn't help but flush a little even as he nodded.

"I mean, I don't want to have to have them all the time or anything-"

"They'd look weird on your body," Anya pointed out. "I mean, I like my breasts - especially when you-"

"Ahn!" Xander flushed, but he couldn't help but smile. He loved this girl, in all her oversharing, waaaaaay-too-happy-to-talk-about sex-in-every-circumstance glory.

Anya rolled her eyes a little, but kissed 'Xander's' cheek lightly regardless. "Given that you've experienced the fun parts of having your own for a few days, you should be more willing to talk about it."

"I don't have any problem talking about it, Ahn just... you know, not where anyone could walk in," Xander defended himself. In private, they'd had quite a few conversations about sex in private - Anya was very big on communicating desires, fantasies and all that stuff. I suppose when you live a thousand years, you get used to having casual discussions about sex?

"And yet people today think everyone in the past were ten times the prudes they were," Anya muttered. "I blame the monotheism," she added, then shook her head. "My point, though, is that there were fun parts about seeing things the other way, no?" she teased.

"True," Xander admitted, feeling his cheeks heat. It really was different to ah... well, you know, climax, as a woman, than a guy. A lot. As one might think, if you ever thought about it to begin with. But fun or not, there were tons of reasons to not want to stick around in this body.

And speaking of boobs, among the many, many reasons he was eager to go back to his body, there was the fact that they were not just fun. He'd heard girls complaining about bras before, but he'd never had an appreciation for their complaints before.

"On the other hand, this might just make you a better lover in the long run," Anya mused, considering. "I mean, now that you have an even better idea what makes a woman feel good from the other end."

Hey! Xander flushed again, and Anya patted his shoulder.

"Don't worry Xander, you're already quite pleasing in your body, especially with all our practice, but there's always room for improvement, especially from a man." She shook her head, "More guys should see things from a woman's perspective for a few days." She mused some more. Then she shrugged, "But anyway, I am very much looking forward to you being you properly, again." She kissed Xander's cheek again lightly, then murmured in his ear exactly what she was planning to do to him when he had his dick again.

Xander flushed even more, and Anya smirked lightly.

"Something to look forward to," she murmured.

February 25th, 2000

Park, Los Angeles Suburbs

Cordelia looked at her phone, checking the time. It was almost midnight, and no sign of Wolfram and Hart.

Of course, they're probably putting their ambush into place. She didn't trust the lawyers as far as she could throw them. Or even as far as Buffy or Angel could throw them. They weren't going to make the exchange if they could avoid it.

But, they have to at least show up, and with Xander's body. If they didn't, dead went the demons. All three were bound with chains provided by Angel, and gagged after Ed hadn't shut up about the suffering the Fel Brethren would inflict on them, alternated by the occasional offer of a bribe to let him go.

It would really be nice if we could do that. Cordelia would have loved the chance to go on a real shopping trip like she'd used to, but leaving aside the fact that they needed Ed, she would have rather stayed living in her last, roach-filled apartment than actually take some demon cult's blood money.

Though... she could still entertain fantasies about what she'd do with the money if she had it.

"The wards are all set, we'll know when they get here," Willow said confidently, walking up towards them. The meeting was set in a small, out of the way public park in a part of the suburbs that didn't get a lot of people walking around at night. Low crime and all super middle class and bourgeois and stuff. The sort of thing she'd looked down on growing up - she still thought it was pretty fake, at the end of the day.

Though given the way Dad was, and Mom... well, it's not like being rich makes you any less fake. Her father was still hiding somewhere in South America, and her mother was living off the charity of relatives.

They were in a corner of the park, hopefully where no one would see them and call the cops or anything.

"Good," Collins grinned, something about the way he did it looking... off. He's up to something. She looked for Wesley, trying to catch his eye, gesturing for him to come over towards her. He knew these watcher goons better than she did. She trusted them almost as little as she trusted Wolfram and Hart.

"And if Wolfram and Hart doesn't show up, then what?" Xander asked, arms folded. "We're getting close, and if they decide this trade isn't-"

"They'll show," Angel interrupted. "They care more about their bottom line than anything else. And that includes protecting their reputation of protecting their clients." He kicked the bound and gagged drug dealer vamp, Victor whatever, lightly in the back. "They can kill me any time. Or try, anyway." He shook his head.

"And if they don't show," Weatherby smirked in a very disturbing sort of rictus smile, "we can start with consequences." The way he said the word, that...

Cordelia felt like she needed a shower just hearing the psycho say 'consequences'.

And then of course this ends with Faith the even bigger psycho being back in her super-strong body. Right now, Xander wasn't in chains, but they had one more set of manacles - she hadn't realized Angel had such a diverse collection of the things - ready to put on 'Xander' right before the exchange was actually made.

Really, why does he have so many chains? Were he and Buffy playing mistress of the dungeon at night in Sunnydale? Or maybe master of the dungeon? Cordelia screwed her eyes shut for a moment, shaking her head violently to try to get the mental images out of her head.

"We can start by dealing with Norvisan," Collins agreed. "We have stakes, holy water, and if Wolfram and Hart take long enough, we can always just chain him up outside to greet the sunrise."

"Given his reputation, sunrise seems like it would be a mercy he doesn't deserve," Wesley considered after a long moment, then walked over towards Cordelia. She grabbed his arm and pulled him to the side.

"How well do you know these guys?" Cordelia hissed quietly. "The Watcher goons," she added.

"Weatherby, Collins and Smith?" Wesley raised an eyebrow and Cordelia rolled her eyes, nodding. "I saw them around headquarters a few times, I know them by reputation, but I'd hardly say I know them. The Special Operations Teams don't mix with the main body of the Watchers, generally," Wesley murmured.

"Why do you ask?"

"I think they're up to something," Cordelia shook her head after she said that. "I know they're up to something," she corrected, absolutely sure she was correct. "I don't trust them."

"They're not the enemy, Cordelia," Wesley shook his head, "They oppose Wolfram and Hart as much as we do, and have every reason to want Faith back in her body so she can be dealt with."

"Just say killed," Cordelia countered. "You and your English inability to just say things directly," she scoffed.

"Yes, she will quite likely be killed at some point... regretful, but the unfortunate reality of her actions..." Wesley sighed. "She's a damaged young girl who needs help, but there's likely no helping her at this point."

"Wait, you don't want her to be killed?" Cordelia shook her head in disbelief. "She's nuts."

"'Nuts' isn't a medical diagnosis, Cordelia. I'd rather she get the help she needs and become an effective Slayer... though given her track record, I don't think she'd accept any help offered. Regardless, I doubt the Council has any other motive than styming Wolfram and Hart and recovering a renegade Slayer for trial and... yes, likely execution."

Cordelia wasn't exactly jumping for joy at the thought of Faith being killed, she was a human and all that, technically. But on the other hand, her actions could probably have merited the death penalty in some states, though maybe not California.

So... it was what it was. The best available outcome.

"At some point, someone is too psycho to be helped," Cordelia disagreed. But then she shook her head. "Not the point. I'm telling you, Collins and his goons are up to something. There's... something off about the way he's smiling."

"Well, Weatherby has always been a touch unstable..." Wesley admitted sheepishly.

"Duh," Cordelia snapped quietly. "But again, like I said, Collins, the boss... I'm getting... a vibe. Of some sort, off him... he's up to something." She repeated, hating she couldn't provide anything more useful. "He's not helping Xander out of the goodness of his heart."

"Of course not, but right now, our goals are aligned." Wesley shook his head. "I don't trust them - I'm sure they'd kill Angel at the first opportunity if they felt they could get away with it - but right now..." He shook his head again. "I'll keep an eye on them as well," he conceded to her.

"You'd better," Cordelia scolded sternly.

"They're coming," Willow's voice interrupted. She pointed off to the right,and Cordelia and Wesley both turned in that direction. Three people in suits were at the lead, with the agreed upon six security goons behind them, along with Faith, in Xander's body, hands cuffed together in front of 'her'. Faith looked absolutely furious, stewing uselessly, eyes darting, looking for an escape.

The goons all had black body armor over black clothes and helmets. As arranged, none were carrying guns, though she was sure they had some hidden. Pretty sure the watcher goons brought a hidden gun or two as well. She trusted neither of them to be good for their word.

With the goons being all pretty much uniform, Cordelia turned to look at the three in suits, expecting them to be the lawyers. One was a weasley looking guy, close-cut short hair, wearing expensive - but tasteful - gucci loafers. Another had slightly longer hair, but carefully arranged, a few strands very clearly deliberating falling around his face, which only added to what was probably a very carefully managed air of down-home country boy charm, from the way he carried himself.

The last was a woman, the one who had been there when the Wolfram and Hart goons grabbed Xander this morning. She was wearing what Cordelia was positive was a Boracci heel, though the design wasn't one of the latest, or any of the older ones she was familiar with off hand. Still, from the way the woman had her makeup carefully applied with just the right emphasises, and her expertly put together outfit, she reminded Cordelia a bit of her high school self.

If, you know, corporate and evil. And I had better shoes than those... though they are still pretty nice.

But this woman had everything so carefully and artfully put together about herself, and the way she presented herself.

"Lilah," Angel said, and Cordelia recognized the name as the one who had tried to get Angel to give up trying to stop that demon fighting ring.

"Angel. How good of you to come here." She looked past him towards Xander. "Are you sure you don't want to take us up on our deal, Mr. Harris?" There was a cruel smirk on her lips

"I'm sure," Xander shook his head. "And I'm also sure that your clients are toast if you don't give me my body back, so just get on with it." Xander's frustration was palpable. He wanted this whole thing over more than any of the rest of them.

"You'd kill them in cold blood, just like that?"

"Gladly," Weatherby growled, pulling out a knife and approaching Ed, pressing the blade to the demon's shoulder lightly. Ed made a terrified, pleading sound through his gag, looking at Lilah and the other two lawyers. "Demon's a demon. Either you stop having leverage on a Slayer, or I get to kill some demons and a vampire. Seems like a win win to me."

Buffy lifted up a sword she'd borrowed from Angel, "If it will get the point across, I'm happy to kill an evil demon." She held the blade close to the Sahrvin clan leader.

"And I'm always eager to dust a vampire," Xander agreed. Cordelia watched him press a stake to the back of the drug dealer, behind his heart. And Xander really did sound happy about staking a vampire. Not that I have an issue with that, most days.

"So, are we going to stand around all night, or are we going to make this exchange?" Collins asked softly. "We do have things to do after this." And yet again, Cordelia was positive he was up to something else, whatever Wesley had said.

"Fine. Send over Ed first, then we'll send over your friend's body," Lilah said after a moment to look at her fellow lawyers. Norvisan's eyes widened and he made an angry protesting sound, trying to struggle to his feet even with his hands behind his back, but Xander used his free hand to press down on the vampire's shoulder. Cordelia caught him wincing, inhaling sharply in pain - slayer healing may have started for those impact wounds from the bullets, but it wasn't that quick, apparently.

"Alright then," Collins nodded to Weatherby, who reluctantly pulled Ed to his feet, while one of the security goons from Wolfram and Hart got behind Faith and shoved her - and Xander's body - towards the front of their side of the exchange.

"On three?" Collins offered.

"On three," Lilah agreed. "One... two..."

"Three."