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 TWENTY-THREE

Warehouse District – Cleveland – May 2004

Stephen completed his lecture and stood aside letting Kennedy take up position in front of the semi-circle of slayers either sprawled over the furniture or sat on the floor. 'Any questions?' she asked.

One of the newly arrived girls from LA raised her hand, they had been sent as temporary reinforcements to bolster the Cleveland Team and Kennedy was trying to get them up to speed as fast as possible.

'Go ahead' Kennedy told her. 'Rowena isn't it?' she asked.

The girl nodded. 'So we don't even know where Berith is going to rise exactly?' she asked.

Kennedy looked to Stephen who shook his head. 'We imagine it will be somewhere nearby in order to reap the maximum benefit from the Hellmouth energies but as to specifics we're clueless' he admitted. 'One reason we have for bringing in extra personnel such as yourself is so we can cover all our bases, if I may be permitted to use an Americanism' he added with a smile.

Another girl raised her hand and Kennedy pointed to her. 'Roberta right?' she queried, not being quite so sure this time, the girl nodded and Kennedy felt pretty pleased with herself, she was so much better with remembering names than Buffy.

'What if it rises inside the Hellmouth cavern?' Roberta asked. 'Isn't there like a seal over a big cave like there was in Sunnydale?'

'If there is we haven't been able to find it despite locator spells, geological surveys and divining rods' Kennedy replied.

'Divining rods?' Rowena asked.

'Talk to Sandy about that one' Kennedy advised indicating one of the usual Cleveland team.

'Okay I know it sounds hokey' Sandy began in her defence, 'but my uncle found a well on our land back home like that so I thought it was worth a try' she told the group. 'Maybe I was doing it wrong?' she suggested with a shrug.

'Or maybe it's just a load of superstitious bollocks' Stephen responded in a tone that indicated the ongoing annoyance he felt about five consecutive nights spent following the girl around the city while she played at dowsing with two pieces of bent wire. 'In any case I'm starting to think that the Cleveland Hellmouth itself might very well be situated out under the lake which makes it quite the chore for both sides to get to, and which may also in turn explain why everyone trying to open a Hellmouth always went to the one in California instead of the one that didn't inconveniently have a slayer and her erstwhile crew of associates guarding it.'

'Makes sense' one of the new girls agreed.

'Just because he's not middle-aged and wearing tweed don't go thinking our watcher here is second rate' Kennedy declared. 'Even if he did only get the job because there wasn't anyone else to do it' she added teasingly.

Stephen sighed. 'It wasn't all that long ago that slayers were expected to show respect and deference to their watcher but now its rebellion and defiance instead' he said sadly. 'It's a slippery slope, they'll be letting women vote and permitting colonies have their independence next mark my words' he added deadpan.

'You're way too outnumbered to be saying things like that' Kennedy told him, playing along. They tended to spark off each other quite well and they had gradually adopted a humorous patter between them that they hoped improved relations between the two of them in the quasi leadership positions and the others. Stephen had worried that Kennedy's manner might lead to ongoing problems with the more sensitive girls, she was more than forthright and demanding at times, whereas to Kennedy's mind the watcher himself was still occasionally prone to bouts of being an insufferable jerk. Their light-hearted banter for the most part seemed achieve its aims, it certainly reduced tensions.

'I revel in my distinctiveness as watcher, male and Englishman amidst a sea of those who lack these undisputed blessings' Stephen replied trying to maintain a straight face. 'Slayers are ten a penny but watchers are rare as rocking horse shit' he continued then finally cracked up setting off Kennedy.

'They do this double-act routine all the time' Shannon said loudly over the general laughter coming from all directions. 'They think they're funny, best to go along with it and laugh or she'll take you off the rotation list to borrow her scythe' she advised.

'We are funny' Stephen protested regaining his control. 'Well I am' he continued 'she's usually the straight man' he said.

'Not that I'm a man' Kennedy noted. 'Or straight for that matter' she added.

'And like they've never used that line before' Jackie interjected.

Stephen frowned. 'I think we need new material' he told Kennedy. 'You think the Limey and Lesbian stuff is wearing thing?'

'Maybe we could play up the sword obsession thing more' Kennedy suggested.

'I don't know maybe that's getting rusty too?' Stephen responded.

'What? With the time you spend polishing them?' Shannon and Jackie interrupted simultaneously before Kennedy could say it.

'We definitely need to come up with new jokes' Stephen told Kennedy, 'the acts gone stale' he told her dejectedly.

'I could do my sword juggling routine' she suggested. 'Or you could try stripping, I've seen The Full Monty, you Brits do that.'

'Best not' Stephen told her. 'If I turned you straight Willow would flay me alive and I wouldn't want to strip down that far' he said with a mock grimace.

Jackie laughed along with the others. 'That one was new' she announced and started everyone off with a round of applause which led Stephen to take a distinctly tongue-in-cheek bow. 'Thank God I thought we'd lost the knack for a second there' he said to Kennedy with relief. 'I guess the old Watcher and Slayer Variety Hour isn't going to get cancelled May 2004 after all.'

Kennedy nodded. 'I hate it when the good shows don't get renewed and just fade away at the end of the Season' she said.

Great Russell Street – London – May 2004

Roger Wyndam-Pryce finished reading the summary page of Molly's voluminous report from her mission to Rome and removed his reading glasses, he would review the entire thing later but it was at least twenty-thousand words in length not including notes to diagrams and the appendices. 'Excellent work as ever' he told the slayer who smiled. 'I was concerned that you might end up somehow entangled in the political intricacies of the dispute between the demon clans but you met the problem in a straightforward manner and prevented a rather nasty inter-demon-clan gang war escalating onto the streets where humans might have suffered.'

Molly nodded. 'It wasn't difficult' she said modestly. 'We just knocked everyone's heads together and told the boys from the Goran Family seeking revenge, and the guys that whacked their Capo, that if they thought we'd allow them to go to war they had another thing coming' she said. 'We forced the Clan that started it to apologise and pay restitution and made it clear that it all ended there or we'd exterminate the lot of them.'

'Might have been better if you did' Roger Wyndam-Pryce observed.

'According to our sources the Goran and most of the other Demon Mafia families that originally come from Italy are just into crime, they don't have an issue with humans and the rules say we don't arbitrarily kill demons just for being demons, they have to earn that kind of attention' she said. 'We added a little proviso that we don't like the Orpheus trade and if any of them are involved in that we'll come calling again but once we laid down the law they were all sweet as you like' she said. 'Of course having a gun pointed to the back of your head tends to concentrate your mind, assuming you don't want it splashed out.'

'Giving them an offer they couldn't refuse may be clichéd I suppose but it maintains its effectiveness' the old watcher agreed. 'One hopes you didn't adopt a faux-Mafiosi accent?'

'Can't pull it off' Molly told him. 'We did call Buffy our Capo though' she admitted. 'Hey your son calls her "Don Summerlione" sometimes too, it's a running joke back in LA' she told him with a smile.

Roger Wyndham-Pryce narrowed his eyes, he preferred his son not to crop up in conversation, it was easier to try and forget he existed at all. 'And all the girls you took with you performed well?' he asked.

Molly nodded. 'Even the newbies that only just got back from training in the States' she told him. There was now a steady stream of slayers heading back and forth across the Atlantic as girls were located and dispatched to Los Angeles for instruction and were then either assigned to gunslayer duty or more often sent back to join the ever expanding European slayer contingent which now had a branch office up and running in Paris too with a decision about to be made on whether Rome or Warsaw got the third European office. In terms of numbers Molly now theoretically had more slayers under her direct command than anyone but Buffy herself, although she did benefit from the assistance of the majority of surviving watchers even if they were nearly all formerly retired and had been recalled to active duty.

'So what are your plans now?' the watcher asked. If she didn't already have any in mind he was more than willing to offer some policy suggestions as part of his ongoing objective to open up some distance between the European and American sides of the operation. Despite their apparent success he couldn't rid himself of the impression that the latter were becoming irredeemably tainted by the influence of the vile demon that had somehow cast a metaphorical spell over both elements of the new Council and indeed his own flesh and blood.

'I'm going to head down to Devon to see the Coven there' Molly replied, 'we're hoping that they will be willing to set up more formal ties and give us some more witchy backup' she told him. 'I got an email from Willow that she and Giles have been working on them and they could be starting to come around to our way of thinking.'

'You know the Council always had a somewhat frosty relationship with them' he told her. 'That undoubtedly colours the relationship' he continued. 'They considered us excessively patriarchal I believe' the watcher told her, rolling his eyes. Bloody feminists he thought.

'That didn't help but I reckon the big problem was Illyria' Molly told him. 'In the end Willow used a bit of psychology on them, played up the fact she was more of a Goddess than a God now really and also mentioned that she talks to plants and has a greeny love of nature thing going on as well as a bluey love of violence.'

Roger Wyndam-Pryce sighed. 'Yes it really does all seem to come down to presentation these days doesn't it' he responded glumly. 'If the facts themselves are distasteful merely spin them until they appear more palatable to the consumer' the old watcher continued. 'I'm not sure whether I find the endemic political chicanery of modern society in itself more abhorrent than I do the demonic influence that surely spawned it' he declared. 'And as for the advertising industry' he added with exaggerated dismay.

Molly laughed. 'I've seen plenty of adverts on the telly which made me think the people that made it must have sold their souls to someone' she agreed. 'So have you heard anything from Robin Wood?' she asked.

'He sent in a report with his satellite telephone the day before yesterday' Wyndam-Pryce replied. 'He successfully located and recruited the girl he was seeking down near the Uganda/Rwanda border and he's going to put her on the next flight from Entebbe to Heathrow' he told the girl. 'Had a very tricky time of it trying to persuade her family he wasn't trying to make her his wife apparently.'

'Language troubles?' Molly asked.

'More cultural I think' the old watcher told her. 'One benefit he has is that Uganda like much of Africa was of course part of the Empire and a legacy of English speakers around continues even if only a minority use the language day to day.'

'So how many is that now?' Molly asked. 'African recruits he's collected I mean.'

'I'm not sure, but I must confess that his success in rounding up slayers down there has been highly impressive' Wyndam-Pryce told her. 'At the risk of being accused of racism in these Politically Correct times I think he benefits from not exactly standing out in the crowd as much as others of us would.'

Molly nodded. 'They were saying at one time about Xander Harris going there.'

'Good grief' Roger Wyndham-Pryce exclaimed. 'The boy's hardly left California as far as I know' he said. 'At least young Robin Wood has seen something of the world and enjoyed the benefit of being raised by his late mother's former watcher so he knows something of the game.'

'Xander's pretty sharp' Molly responded with a hint of defensiveness. 'People underestimate him' she opined.

'That may be the case but we should all play to our strengths or else we waste our potential' he replied. 'Having him construct that secular temple to the methods and resources of the new Council at the outskirts of the former Sunnydale Hellmouth is a far more sensible use of his talents surely?'

'He got the Hyperion renovated and fully up to code faster than anyone thought he could' Molly agreed. 'And he seems to know a lot about concrete which is handy when you're building bunkers I suppose.'

'Well then, all of us in our proper station in life' Wyndam-Pryce declared. 'Me behind this desk, you out in the field giving evil a damn good thrashing, Robin Wood out and about gathering other slayers for the cause and Master Harris wearing a hard hat.'

'So if we're all supposed to end up where we should be, doing the job we're destined for, then what do you think about the Deeper Well Annwfyn prophecies that put Illyria back on her throne' she asked trying not to smirk. Anything to do with his son and/or the Blue Meanie was always a great way to wind him up and Molly liked to do that once in a while, especially when he was being even more of a pompous old twit than normal.

The baleful glare he fixed her with was more than enough to tell Molly she had knocked it for six, or as the Yanks might say hit it out of the ballpark, with that one.

Hyperion Hotel – Los Angeles – May 2004

Buffy found Faith leaning against back a wall watching girls spar in the training room. Both the floor and walls were covered in crash mats and the other slayer looked comfortable enough physically if not too happy in herself judging by the expression on her face. 'Hey Faith' Buffy greeted her, 'where's Dana?'' she asked.

'Following Drusilla around the hotel, I guess she still enjoys giving Vampira, Mistress of the Dark and Disturbed, the stalker treatment' Faith replied.

Buffy grinned. Dana had taken it upon herself to keep a very close eye on the vampire and regularly stalked her giving Drusilla a serious complex into the bargain to add to her already impressive list of major psychological problems. 'I thought Drusilla was with Cordy today?' she asked.

'Corr got sidetracked into helping Diana with something admin-wise, she's still the only one that understands the old Angel Investigations filing system' Faith replied. 'They've got their session of vision interpretation going on tomorrow now' she explained.

Buffy nodded, it had caught them all by surprise but after a few weeks it had become self-evident that Cordelia seemed to have a much better handle on interpreting Drusilla's rambling monologues and cryptic replies than anyone else, a fact she attributed to years of being sent extremely obscure visions herself by the Powers-That-Be. Apparently it was just an adaptively off-beat way of viewing things that, in Cordelia's own words "you non-visiony people don't get". As for Buffy she was more than happy not to have to waste perfectly good braincells trying to figure out what the hell Dru was talking about herself, especially given that much of the time it really was gibberish or else the vampire was making things up to amuse herself watching everyone trying to make sense of a few randomly strung together words.

'So what do you think about the gunslayer chicks?' Buffy asked, looking them over herself.

'They're sloppy at hand-to-hand' Faith replied. 'They didn't train for unarmed combat or one-to-one fighting much on Pylea and they've gotten rusty at it' she replied. 'I also had to stop them going full-contact at each other.'

'Full-Contact?' Buffy queried.

'Yeah' Faith replied. 'They weren't pulling their punches.'

Buffy frowned. 'That would kinda hurt' she replied. 'I know. I've been hit full-on by a slayer before myself once or twice.'

Faith chuckled. 'You got in a few good shots yourself' she replied. 'You know Jailbait?'

'That's what they call Charlotte right?' Buffy asked.

Faith nodded. 'That's her' she confirmed. 'Well anyway she had a black eye and a busted lip and when I told her that was enough she told me that "pain is just weakness leaving the body" and went back to sparring' Faith told Buffy. 'They're seriously hard-core' she opined. 'You know like me, but they've got that focus thing you always did better than me too, plus a bit of something else.'

'Something like what?' Buffy asked.

Faith frowned. 'You know that ice-cold detached sociopathic thing Wes has going for him when he's got his game on?' she asked rhetorically. 'Well it's kinda like that' she told her. 'And they've got this weird "fuck with one of us and we'll all kick your ass" vibe going on too.'

'They're killers not slayers' Buffy said softly. 'You should have seen them doing their thing in the field' she continued. 'They were so… clinical.'

'I can believe it' Faith replied. 'They put me away for killing someone, some of these girls have got up into the double digits killing people, I mean people people' she said. 'They don't even know how many demons they've killed.'

'Ask Rika when she gets back' Buffy told her. 'She keeps count, says she's after the all-time record for sniper kills' she continued. 'You know the one's that were really good at it haven't come back yet, they're still on Pylea warping the next batch of innocent young minds.'

'Wes wants to take the best of them to Cleveland for when Berith shows up, in case he brings his own boys with him' Faith noted, 'supposed to have a few Demon Legions under his belt.'

'By "best" I suppose he means worst' Buffy replied wryly.

'Faith shrugged. 'Matter of perspective' she replied. 'The one's that can cause the most damage in the shortest space of time and not feel bad about it afterwards.'

'It's like he's got groupies' Buffy observed. 'You know when I met Vi I never saw her as being the founder member of the Wesley-ettes.'

'She's real good with a gun, if it hadn't been for Illyria showing up and changing things she'd have never known' Faith noted. 'Wasted potential even after she got all slayered up.'

Buffy leaned against the wall next to Faith. 'I don't like guns' she said.

'Yeah we know' Faith replied. 'Xander thinks it's because you think it's not what slaying should be about, but that's kinda weird in itself because it's about the only thing you and the old Council ever seemed to agree on' she said. 'Wes thinks it's because you're a crap shot' she added with a smirk.

Buffy scowled. 'So what do you think' she asked.

'I think that allowing slayers to die because they don't carry the best tool for the job for any reason sucks' Faith told her. 'What if we faced a bunch of fucking zombies or something? We could spend five hours hacking at them with swords which they wouldn't even feel and lose a few girls into the bargain or we could spend five minutes blowing their heads off with shotguns and then all grab an early lunch.'

'Hard to argue with laid out in black and white like that' Buffy admitted. 'Do you think Wes would give me shooting lessons?'

'Hell he offered me elocution lessons so I don't see why not' Faith told her.

'Elocution lessons?' Buffy asked with a grin.

Faith rolled her eyes. 'He said I'd be a more effective slayer, and could blend in better in a wider circle of society if I didn't talk like a Teamster' she said. 'I nearly slugged him but I reckon he'd have seen that as proving his point.'

'I'd be careful if I was you' Buffy cautioned. 'He got Illyria to act almost polite and considerate of others feelings, well sometimes anyway, and if he can do that then he might even make Faith Lehane into a lady' she told her. 'And tell the truth you like the fact he thinks you're worth the effort don't you?' she asked with a wink.

'He's making amends for being a fuck-up as my watcher, thinks he owes me something, but let's be honest even Wes in his wussy skinny-ass pimp-suit days was a better watcher than I was a slayer' Faith responded.

'Amazing what a few years can do' Buffy observed.

'It's not the years B' Faith told her, 'it's the mileage' she joked. 'And the prison, torture and shit probably helped swing it too.'

'You should try dying for a life changing event' Buffy told her. 'That'll change you.'

Faith sighed. 'You just can't help but try and upstage me can you?' she asked rhetorically.

'Hey I'm the hero' Buffy told her. 'You're just one of the whacky sidekicks' Buffy told her, trying not to laugh.

Faith pushed herself away from the wall and pulled herself up to her full height which although not exactly towering was still a couple of inches taller than Buffy. 'Okay hero how about we show these girls how it's supposed to be done because I'm going to kick you in the side of the head and then whack your sorry ass all around this room' she declared.

Buffy looked Faith in the eyes, 'If you think that'll happen then you're trippin' F' she declared trying to imitate Faith's delivery.

Faith frowned 'I don't really sound like that do I?' she asked, bending down to take off her boots as Buffy did likewise.

'You kinda do' Buffy told her.

'I might take Wes up on those elocution lessons' Faith told her.

'Do you a deal, if you can stick out being Eliza Doolittle I'll take those shooting classes with me.'

'Who the hell is Eliza Doolittle' Faith asked as they made their way to the centre of the room, the other slayers clearing a path. Buffy/Faith matches were a lot of fun to watch though overall Illyria/Glory sparring was guaranteed a better crowd, Dawn usually insisted on a ringside seat for those ones.

'I'll lend you the DVD of My Fair Lady' Buffy told her.

'Whatever' Faith replied non-committally, it was a damn stupid name anyway she thought.

Wolfram and Hart Building – Los Angeles – May 2004

Lilah rose from her seat when the Archduke entered but he indicated she should sit back down and he took the proffered chair across the desk from her and made himself comfortable as his slave pulled the plug in his wrist and poured his master a crystal goblet of his own life's blood.

Hauser stood behind Lilah arms at parade rest behind his back and tried not to react with distaste at the scene. The scrawny slave of Sebassis own race looked so pitiful he was struck by an extremely rare pang of sympathy and suppressed the urge to draw his automatic pistol and end the slaves miserable existence then and there with a nine-millimetre to the brain. The damn thing looked so pathetic and broken it would have been merciful, not that mercy was in any way part of the man's usual forte.

'So did it work?' Lilah asked.

'As ever straight down to business Ms. Morgan' the Archduke responded raising his glass of blood in a mock toast, 'I admire that although not to the extent that I will not be seeking full reimbursement for my losses in this scheme of yours.'

Lilah nodded. 'I have already arranged a transfer of funds to your accounts representing the full sum of the pre-negotiated dollar value of each demon lost to your forces in the battle' she told him, 'even more than we thought but worth it I hope if it achieved the desired objective.'

The Archduke took a sip of his drink and savoured the flavour, it was one of his favourite vintages of slave and tickled the palate ever so sweetly. 'As a matter of fact it went even better than I expected' he told her. 'I did not even have to suggest to my forces on Pylea that there was only one possible response to the disaster' he continued. 'It was they who came to me as a delegation to demand that we equip the Legions with human weaponry.'

'Superlative result' Lilah declared, more than pleased with the result. 'Well worth the loss of some cannon-fodder.'

Sebassis nodded. 'Until they felt the sharp sting of defeat from a far inferior number of mere humans, and a smattering of Pylean natives from predominately physically weaker demon clans, many still ardently resisted the notion that they should debase themselves to employing the devices created by your people' he said. 'The prior defeats they suffered at the hands of the firearm equipped slayers were all too often attributed fully to the nature of those using the weapons rather than the weapons themselves' he continued, 'our people are used to the idea of being vanquished by slayers so they did not fully grasp the situation for what it was but now they do.'

'Adapt or die' Lilah interjected. 'We arranged it so the enemy would evolve them, or at least give them enough of a reality check to make them finally see the light.'

'Indeed' the Archduke agreed. 'As I said, many in my armies are clamouring for human firearms and training so that they can avenge their fallen comrades, it's a revolution in thinking that only the most extreme of circumstances could have forced.'

Lilah turned to Hauser. 'How long before we can start shipping guns to Pylea?' she asked.

Hauser looked thoughtful. 'It would have been easier if we had pre-purchased the weaponry but of course that would have raised suspicions amongst the Archdukes troops that sending in his forces without even token support from my own men on Pylea had been a deliberate act designed to bring about this situation' he replied. 'It's not just a matter of sending the arms either, we also need to train the demons who will carry them' he pointed out. 'As it is I think we could have at least a full Cohort both equipped, and at least partially trained to the level they would have a degree of effectiveness within two months' he told them. 'We know that Pylean Demon Clans allied with the slayers have embraced the use of firearms and knowing something can be done puts you well on the way to doing it yourself.'

Lilah nodded. 'Our demons just needed the right motivation' she opined. 'The slayers blazed a trail, they shouldn't have thought they would be the only travellers on it for ever' she stated with a distinctly feral grin.

'And what of the Lord of the Covenant' Sebassis asked, 'surely you expect Baal Berith to deal a hammer blow to our enemies and render this all moot in any case?' he continued. 'With the slayer organisation destroyed, or at least badly disrupted, here on Earth their ability to fund and resource their forces, both surrogate and otherwise, on Pylea must surely be weakened to the point of capitulation?' he suggested.

'We are, needless to say, getting prepared for his arrival' Lilah told him. 'Sacrifices being offered in his name, prophecies being gone over with a fine tooth comb, lots of chanting, but I'm not going to count my chickens until they've hatched' she declared. 'The opposition have triumphed over situations you wouldn't give them a candles chance in hell in surviving too many times for me not to plan for what we do if they come out ahead yet again.'

Sebassis nodded, for a human Lilah Morgan was unusually intelligent, ruthless and efficient and he appreciated that. 'I hope you don't mind me imposing' he said, 'but unfortunately my slave here has heard rather too much and I can't really allow him the opportunity to spread the word that I deliberately sent two legions to their certain death merely to motivate the others.'

Lilah nodded. 'Fortunately my carpet doesn't stain' she told him, 'special enchantment' she explained before looking to Hauser and giving him the nod.

The slave looked almost relieved when the head of Wolfram and Hart's LA Black Ops smoothly drew his gun and shot him between the eyes. Hauser felt okay about it too, sometimes things worked out pretty well he thought happily to himself as he holstered his pistol again.

Note from the Author:

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