Everything either belongs to Joss or it should, no infringement is intended and no profit is to be made. When you get right down to it I'm not really worth suing anyway unless you want a share of an underpaid civil servants wages and it just wouldn't be worth the hassle trust me.

CHAPTER TEN

Warehouse District – Cleveland – February 2004

Kennedy rolled her eyes as the car screeched to a halt right in front of her by the doors to the apartment building. 'So this is your idea of a practical vehicle?' she asked sardonically as Stephen turned in the driver's seat and grinned at her gunning the engine a couple of times and pressing the button to close the roof on the convertible before he turned off the engine and unbuckled his seatbelt. She knew he was out collecting a new car this morning but he had been very cagey on what it was going to be exactly, he'd phoned he on the way telling her to meet him outside the apartment building and then they'd walk to lunch at the local café they had started to frequent.

'Well you never know, one day we might get into a car chase' he replied unconvincingly getting out of the Jaguar XKR, an exact double of the one Illyria had purchased for Wesley. The young watcher had been besotted with the machine since he had "borrowed" the other mans to pick up his girlfriend from school one day back in LA, so now he owned one himself. Unlike Wesley however Stephen considered himself young, cool, and possibly sane enough to enjoy it properly.

'How the hell did you even afford this?' she asked. 'I thought you were on the same pay grade as me and I can't afford one of these' she noted suspiciously.

'Inheritance came through' he answered. 'Dad said he'd buy me a car when I turned eighteen' he continued, 'probably not how he intended it to happen but I like to think of it as carrying out the old mans wishes.'

'He was going to buy you a sports car?' Kennedy queried.

'Oh bloody hell no' Stephen admitted. 'I'd have been lucky to get a second hand Volkswagen' he told her.

'Decided to get your mid-life crisis over a few decades early did you?' Kennedy asked, watching him pat the Jaguar tenderly.

Stephen shrugged. 'Given our lifestyles it seemed better to get it out of the way now' he answered with a wry smile. 'Don't know if I'll make twenty yet, let alone forty.'

'Driving that thing is more likely to kill you than anything we run into on patrol' Kennedy told him seriously, then paused. 'Can I borrow it next weekend when Willow's in town?' she asked.

'Bugger off' Stephen replied with a smirk, 'and I'm hiding the keys' he declared as they started heading towards the café. 'So who are you going to berate at our little command conference today?' he asked. 'If it's Jackie again you give her too hard a time, she tries really hard and her swordplay is getting much better.'

'There's more to being a slayer than swinging a piece of sharp steel' Kennedy replied. 'You put too much emphasis on that' she told the watcher.

Stephen smiled. 'We all have our obsessions' he replied.

Kennedy chuckled. 'I know the girls come to you to complain about me' she told him.

'Of course' Stephen agreed. 'Daddy against Mommy' he joked. 'I always tell them you're a fascist, authoritative tyrant for their own good of course' he continued, 'although perhaps not phrased precisely that way.'

'Glad to hear it' Kennedy responded.

'I've never accused you of being a fascist' Stephen told her deadpan.

Kennedy threw him a look. 'They're just trying to manipulate you' she said. 'I've seen Jackie flutter her eyelashes in your direction' she told him.

'I manipulate them right back' Stephen told her. 'She's doing my laundry today' he told her. 'You might be a tyrant but I make a much better calculating, self-serving evil genius' he declared.

'It's the accent' Kennedy opined. 'All the best villains at the movies are played by Brits.'

'Alan Rickman is my guru' the watcher told her as they turned a corner. The Café was right ahead now. 'Seriously though Jackie dispatched that vampire quite handily last night outside the bowling alley' he pointed out. 'I doubt you could have done the job much better yourself and at the risk of giving you a big head you are very good at your job.'

'Is this you trying to manipulate me?' the slayer asked. 'Appealing to my vanity or something?'

'Only partially' Stephen told her. 'I was being completely honest, I merely phrased it carefully for greatest effect.'

'It worked' Kennedy admitted.

'Well of course' Stephen replied holding the café door open for her as they reached their destination. 'How could a young colonial lady of any sexual persuasion fail to respond to my smooth British charm' he asked, desperately trying to keep a straight face.

Kennedy laughed. 'Oh yeah you're like every girls fantasy' she told him. 'We're all longing in our heart of hearts for a sword fetishist that wears Snoopy underwear.'

Stephen ground his teeth. 'I'm going to kill Emily for telling everybody about that' he growled.

'I heard from Dawn' Kennedy told him.

'Telling Dawn is telling everybody' Stephen stated, then sighed, it was too late to worry about it now. 'You buying?' he asked, changing the subject. 'It's your turn I believe.'

'I'm not the one with the money to go out buying Sports Cars' Kennedy responded evenly.

'Well it's not like I got a Ferrari or anything' Stephen protested in vain. 'We'll take our usual table please' he told the waitress who came over to them. 'I'll have tea, the bane of many a girls existence here will have a cappuccino and I beg of you, please make sure the water is boiling when the tea goes in' he requested, putting his hands together in a mock prayer while throwing the waitress his most charming smile. It was something of a running joke, they had only done it wrong on his first visit but the waitress seemed to appreciate it.

They sat down on a table by the window and looked over the lunch menu. 'Going to let one of the new girls take out the scythe tonight?' Stephen asked.

'Sandy I think' Kennedy replied. 'She's been putting in the most effort.'

Stephen nodded. 'Good call' he agreed. 'She's an enthusiastic little thing.'

'She does more than her fair share of the chores too' Kennedy noted. People who went above and beyond won extra credit in her book whether it was trying harder to make sure that one extra demon didn't get away, or even something as trivial as helping out doing the dishes when it wasn't your turn.

'Farmgirl' Stephen pointed out. 'They're not lazy like us urban sophisticates' he opined. 'Probably misses getting up at 4 AM to milk the cows.'

'Just don't let her make any of that stew again' Kennedy said, sticking out her tongue in an exaggerated grimace.

'I rather liked it' Stephen replied honestly.

Kennedy tapped the menu after deciding what she wanted. 'Willow told me what they fed her sometimes at that Coven in Devonshire. The mother country can't cook, it's a well known fact' she stated.

'It's an entirely unfounded stereotype' Stephen retorted, 'and the county is called Devon not Devonshire, Devonshire is a kind of cream tea' he told her.

'No need to get all defensive about it' Kennedy told him clearly amused by his reaction.

'You'll be accusing us all of having bad teeth next' Stephen muttered under his breath 'Anyhow want to take the new car for a spin around town later?' he asked brightly. 'I'm going to see if I can find a way to get those stealth-slayer glyphs to work somehow so we won't have to worry about cops with radar guns' he told her with a broad grin.

'You're just a big kid' Kennedy told him. 'You talk and act all mature but you are' she insisted. 'You do know that right?' she asked seriously.

Stephen fought back a pout and sulked for the next ten minutes or so but tried not to let it show.

Florence – Oregon – February 2004

'Supposedly the next few miles of Route 101 are really scenic' Spike said looking up from the guidebook. 'I've driven it before but I didn't think so at the time.'

'You were driving it at night and you didn't have a soul' Angel pointed out, bringing the Range Rover into the motel parking lot. The sun was already dropping below the horizon and they'd been driving most of the day, they were almost out of gas too and would have to fill up the tank before they set off in the morning.

Spike opened the passenger door as soon as Angel pulled up and jumped out to stretch his legs. They'd been driving for a good few hours, although they had stopped at one point just to look out over the Pacific ocean for what seemed like an eternity, the necro-tempered glass windshield enabling them to do so without bursting into flames. The trip hadn't been anywhere near as bad so far as Angel had feared, or Spike had planned in fact, they just spent hour after hour looking out at the world as it went by. 'I'll drive tomorrow' Spike said.

'Can I trust you not to get us pulled over?' Angel asked. 'It's not like we can step out of the vehicle because some highway patrolman tells us to' he noted.

'What's he going to do? Shoot out the tyres?' Spike joked.

'Or the windshield' Angel responded seriously tapping the glass as he stepped out himself reaching back for his coat. 'It stops UV light not bullets' he reminded the other vampire. 'That stuff shatters and we're two piles of dust in the front seats.'

Spike frowned. 'They make bullet-proof glass don't they?' he asked.

'Fred's working on making necro-tempered stuff that'll turn a bullet but there's a problem with it so far, don't ask me what, she explained but I got as far as the word photons and my brain shut down' he said. 'That didn't seem to stop her for the next ten minutes though.'

'Did she breathe?' Spike asked closing the car door on his side. 'I've heard her yammer and I'm not sure which of us needs oxygen less' he told Angel checking his wallet. 'This is the place we booked ahead with right?' he asked.

Angel nodded. 'I'll check in with reception' he replied.

'There's a bar over the road' Spike pointed out. 'See you over there, what do you want?'

'You're offering to get me a drink?' Angel asked in surprise.

Spike glared at him. 'I may have been lots of things, but when was I ever tight about buying a round even when I was evil?' he asked indignantly. 'You were always the cheap sod not me.'

Angel thought about it. 'Alright I apologise' he replied 'Draft beer with a whiskey chaser' he requested.

'If they do buffalo wings do you want any because I'm getting some?' Spike asked, 'I'm only asking because you drove, you get to feed me tomorrow night' he told him.

'Yeah okay' Angel replied. Vampire senses were all heightened except for the tastebuds oddly enough, food never tasted the same after you were turned but really spicy things could sometimes get over that problem. 'I'll throw your bag in your room' he called after the other vampire as Spike headed for the bar.

Ten minutes later they were sat together at the bar and it felt, well normal Angel decided. Just two guys on a roadtrip, a roadtrip up to Seattle where Willow's locator spell told them Drusilla the seer vampire was admittedly, but they'd driven along the coast for hundreds of miles, enjoyed the view, in daytime no less and now they were just sitting having a beer like regular guys. Spike annoyed the crap out of Angel, often deliberately for the sake of a cheap laugh in fact, but one thing he found he could do with him was not worry about putting up the defences like he had to with Wesley or Cordelia, Gunn or Fred. William the Bloody had done things almost as bad as Angelus and they'd been together when a lot of them had happened. Angel didn't have to worry about Spike judging him he was simply in no position too.

The lousy rotten stinking undead English bastard still helped himself to at least half of Angels Buffalo Wings as well as eating his own though, Angel noted angrily when he go back from seeing if there was anything good on the jukebox. Fortunately for those not enamoured of the power-ballads there weren't any.

Spike wondered when it was that Angel had got unbelievably bad at talking to women when a very nice duo who turned out to be sisters tried to pick them up. From what he knew of the guys past, back when he was Liam and the old heart still went thump-thump in his chest Angel had been a real ladies man which is how Darla got her fangs into him, Angelus had been a damn fine seducer too, often just for sex not blood though he usually got both, so it wasn't the vampire issue, but whatever it was the black-clad bugger couldn't chat up the birds to save his life. He was really letting the side down as far as Spike was concerned, sitting there like a bleeding zombie while good old William did all the talking. He knew Angel had a girlfriend now, damn good looking one as a matter of fact even if she did suffer a serious body-hair problem sometimes, but even if he wasn't interested in getting in a shag he could at least flirt a bit couldn't he Spike thought. It wasn't like he was likely to get a burst of perfect happiness if a tasty bit put her hand on his thigh or something.

Or maybe he was? It occurred to Spike, the way he dressed did give a vibe that said wanker so maybe he had a tendency to go off too soon too? Spike pondered, spontaneously bursting into laughter at the notion which he couldn't share with anyone right then unfortunately. He did however make a detailed mental note to mention it once the view out of the Range Rover windows lost its appeal and he needed to find entertainment another way. If he was driving at the time Angel was unlikely to punch him in the face immediately which was a plus.

Anyhow even if he did punch him in the face that was still better than trying to figure out what to say to Dru Spike decided. Best to cross that psychotic bridge when he came to it, or maybe they could just tranq her and drop her back at the Hyperion unconscious and let someone else handle that particular problem. Facing certain death in a Hellmouth Spike could handle, but to be honest, even after spending over a century with her, there was something about Drusilla that never failed to scare the living crap out of him.

The next day, approximately another hundred miles up the road and doing sixty-five, Angel punched Spike in the face and they nearly crashed but they both thought at the time it was well worth it.

Hyperion Hotel – Los Angeles – February 2003

'I hope Wesley is alright' Illyria said, leaning back to avoid the punch being thrown at her head before taking the slayers outstretched arm and performing a judo throw on Faith that rolled her in the air and sent her crashing to the floor hard. Coming from the other direction Buffy managed to get a roundhouse kick to connect that knocked the God-King slightly off balance but before the blond slayer could capitalise on it Illyria somehow dropped to the floor and with one leg outstretched swept Buffy's legs out from under her bringing the slayer crashing down while Faith flipped herself to her feet for another go as Illyria straightened back up.

'You could at least show some respect and not try to hold a goddamn conversation with us when we're sparring' Faith told Illyria and darted in throwing a volley of skilled and powerful punches which Illyria initially managed to counter until one good punch finally caught her on the chin and rocked her head back and to the right.

'A true warrior seeks to unbalance their enemies mind as well as their fighting stance' Illyria replied. 'Is that not the reason for the banter Buffy and yourself employ?' she asked, throwing a punch of her own which knocked Faith half way across the room.

Buffy kicked Illyria on the back of her right knee as hard as she could buckling it and finally bringing her down. 'No mostly I just do it for the laughs' she explained. Jumping clear before the Old One could grab hold of her.

The other slayers gathered around gave a round of applause to Buffy as Illyria flipped to her own feet. 'They do know I am taking it easy on you I assume?' the God-King asked. Buffy and Faith had been sparring with each other when Illyria arrived but she had offered to fight them both as a demonstration to the class.

Faith got up holding an arm across her ribs where Illyria had punched her. 'That hurt' she complained.

'They should be unbroken' Illyria told her, 'your ribs I mean' she explained. 'Slayers are surprisingly resilient to impact, though your skin is however easily cut which diminishes from your combat effectiveness considerably.'

'We can't all have skin like yours' Buffy retorted, 'even if the colour's optional.'

'It would save you a fortune on moisturisers if nothing else' Illyria replied semi-seriously. 'Is our sparring at an end?' she asked.

'Not on your life' Buffy told her. 'I'm starting to get the measure of you now' she said confidently, 'besides which you can't cheat and do the time thing.'

Illyria frowned, the fact was that the shell was still lacking in stability after the excessive strain placed upon it of late, and it was unwise to employ her more esoteric powers at present. She couldn't risk altering the flow of time any more than she could undertake her usual regular trips to Pylea. 'I am still far stronger than you with reaction times superior to a slayer.'

'Yeah' Buffy admitted, 'but we've got numbers' she said with a grin. 'And now I've thought about it we have been talking for a while about using them to knock you down a peg.'

Illyria looked around. 'What?' she queried, then her eyes widened realising she was actually surrounded. 'You wouldn't' she stated.

'After the number of times you've pummelled me and the other girls in training then mocked us, derided our ancestors back to the Pre-Cambrian era and then criticised our tastes in clothes and music, oh yes we damn well would' Buffy replied evenly. 'I want three girls on each limb at least or she'll break free' she ordered. 'And hold on tight because you all know how strong she is.'

'What are we going to do with her B?' Faith asked.

'I think we should drag her to the hotel pool and throw her in' Buffy replied. 'Does the blue come off in chlorine?' she asked, starting to grin.

'You wouldn't dare' Illyria declared, estimating if there were enough slayers present to completely overpower her, unfortunately there were and with plenty to spare.

'We like you Blue… but it's been nearly a year since you turned up and if nothing else it's high time you got properly initiated into the club' Buffy told her. 'I don't think you're petty enough to kill or maim us afterwards for doing it.'

'B's right' Faith opined. 'You need knocking off your high horse or you'll never be taken seriously as a team player.'

'I am not a team player' Illyria stated, trying to think up a viable escape plan and failing miserably.

'One quick dunking and it's all over' Buffy reassured her. 'You'll be wet, we'll laugh our asses off, and everything will be cool.'

'This is senseless, I will wreak vengeance upon all of you if you launch such an attack directed to inflict such an indignity upon me' The Old One declared.

'Sorry Illyria' Buffy apologised. 'It's been a long time coming but this feels like the day you learn your limitations, and we learn how well you float.'

'Kinda skinny to be all that buoyant B' Faith interjected. 'Just grin and bear it Smurfette, show some class' she implored. 'Use that superior intellect you insist you have, it'll smooth over your relations with the group.'

'There will be a reckoning mark my words well slayers' Illyria told them. 'I am the Shaper of Things, creator of this timeline…'

'God-King of the Primordium' Buffy intoned, 'Yes we all know but you're one of us too and if anyone else acted like you they'd have been pulled up on it months ago. If it helps you're the most endearing egomaniac deity I know… but it's time to get soggy.'

'Aw crap' Illyria moaned as they advanced on her.

To give Illyria her due it was an epic struggle that resulted in nearly half the slayers ending up in the pool along with her, including Buffy, but it was too late by then, numerical superiority had, in Buffy's words "won out over superiority complex". Illyria was soaking wet and quietly seething as she got back out of the water.

Sitting by the side of the pool herself, dripping water onto the ceramic tiles, Buffy looked up at Illyria. 'Feeling a bit less omnipotent there?'

'No' Illyria replied, 'just wet.'

'Think of it as a baptism into the sisterhood' Buffy told her. 'Girls meet Illyria, the God Slayer' she announced.

Illyria looked down at her. 'I must be far more fond of you than I thought else I would currently be feeding you your own entrails' she told the slayer.

'Aw she's getting all choked up and emotional' Faith commented starting to laugh. 'Oh shit' she exclaimed when Illyria snapped forward inhumanly fast grabbed hold of her and threw her bodily into the pool.

'Anyone else present who is still dry either jumps in of their own accord or gets put in there' Illyria declared, her pronouncement, which was delivered in one of her most imperious and reverberating tones, being immediately greeted by a number of girls diving into the water. 'I find the title God-Slayer mildly acceptable but if this "sisterhood" entails any talking about our feelings or touchy-feely crap of any kind, I am not interested' she told Buffy, then the God-King turned her back towards them and started heading towards her room with all the dignity she could muster in the circumstances.

Buffy helped Faith back out of the pool. 'She didn't rip out a single spine' Buffy noted, 'do you see how far she's come?' she asked rhetorically.

'Oh yeah' Faith replied, taking off her waterlogged boots. 'Blue's just all sweetness and light these days' she said, turning one of them upside down to let the water inside pour back into the pool, her ribs still hurt too.

Note from the Author:

This fanfic runs on reviews.

And it really was high time Illyria's ego got deflated a tad methinks :-p