See first chapter for disclaimers.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to Storyseeker for beta-reading this. As usual, if you have any comments or preferences, please don't be shy. RandR.

PREVIOUSLY: Elder Scrolls: Morrowind

This is Familiar

"It's almost nice to be fighting demons again," Xander commented as he used a baseball bat to remove the head of a demon-possessed corpse. The thing was in horrible condition even by the standards set by zombies. Has to be magic holding the thing together, he thought. "I mean after aliens and psychics and psychos."

"These demons are more annoying than most," Faith griped as she kicked a severed head as far from her as her Slayer strength would allow. The thing would just not shut up. At first it had been creepy; severed heads promising dismemberment, eternal torment, etc. But it kept talking and she had downgraded them from creepy to chatty.

Unfortunately, there were a lot of them. Some just seemed content hissing, screeching, and attacking. Others kept up a running commentary on everything from her family history to her dress sense. It was really getting on her nerves having a corpse, especially one so gross, critiquing her life and her choices. The grossness, she thought, would have been more effective if it wasn't so damn campy. Everything they did was over-the-top nasty and cruel to the point it was almost silly.

"Xand? What the hell did we walk into?" She asked as she dodged flailing intestines that wanted to strangle her.

"No clue." He answered as he crushed a skull that was missing most of its flesh and still harping on his crush on Buffy and his taste in women in general. "I just hope we can finish up quick and get out of here. These things are gnawing on my last nerve."

"Thanks for the mental pic." Faith grimaced as she shattered the ribs and spine of her latest dance partner.

"And the tasty idea!" The 'dance partner' laughed maniacally as it crawled toward Xander. The crawling stopped when its head suddenly vanished with a sound like thunder. The demon hunters jumped at the unexpected noise and quickly located the source.

Three locals had entered the fray. A young Hispanic man with a pistol was putting rounds through the heads of demons with fair accuracy. A young woman, also armed with a gun, seemed more interested in causing the demons pain, even if it didn't stop them. Kneecapping the things, Xander noticed, only seemed to piss them off. The last member of the group was a white man in his 40s or 50s wielding a shot gun and... seriously?!

Odd as the apparent leader of the group was, he was affective. He moved like a seasoned demon hunter, and pieces of decomposing flesh flew in all directions where he passed with his gun and his disturbing but highly effective tool. "Whoa. Grampa's got game." Faith stepped back and watched the three locals mop up what was left of the demons.

The man with the shot gun suddenly turned toward them and pointed his gun. "Down!"

Faith and Xander dove aside and the shot gun boomed loud enough to make their ears ring. The man followed up by charging at whatever he'd shot with his other weapon, and Xander still couldn't believe that, swinging.

They turned in time to see pieces of a rather pretty brunette girl hitting the ground. The red eyes and partially rotted skin told them that the girl wasn't an innocent bystander. There was also the fact that the severed head was swearing to make a marine blush.

When he was done, the man stood back and let out a sigh of relief. "That was close. You two need to pay more attention."

"That," Xander admitted, "was embarrassing. Thanks." Faith nodded her agreement as she looked over the messy remains.

"Looks like you were doing okay," the young Hispanic offered. "I've never seen one of these things use a gun." He picked up a severed hand and carefully pried a cheap pistol out of its grip. "Judgin' by the bodies and the sudden decision to use guns, maybe you had 'em worried."

"There do seem to be quite a few," the apparent leader of the group agreed. He turned to Xander. "We were supposed to meet a contact here about some demon killing artifact. Did you see anything like that lyin' around?"

"No." Xander shook his head. "Everyone here was overdue for a funeral pyre. Could be that tip you got was a trap, and we wandered into it."

"Sounds like somethin' they'd do," the man groused as he detached and put away the special equipment he carried. He glanced at Xander and caught him staring. "I won't ask if you won't."

"Deal," the one-eyed hunter nodded.

"Looks like you two may have saved our lives." A thought struck him. "Speaking of pyres." He turned to his friend.

"On it, jefe. One gas can coming up." He headed off.

"Looks like the life savin' was mutual." Faith shrugged as Xander went to help with the fire. "Consider it a favor between colleagues."

"Sounds good." The woman nodded.

"Well," the older man said, leering at Faith, "I still think I owe you something." The woman rolled her eyes and wandered off. "Ya know; I got this friend. He's got a special talent. He is the best there is when it comes to stringing tennis racquets. That's all he does. All the big names go to him."

"I don't play tennis," Faith said, wondering where this was going, but not liking the way his eyes had run up and down her body.

"I bring it up, 'cause I've got a special talent of my own." He gave her cocky grin and leaned in to whisper in her ear. Faith listened to his suggestion, her eyes widening. She'd heard a lot of pickup lines and kinky ideas, but this took the prize. "How 'bout it? Want me to 'string your racquet?'"