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-SIX

Warehouse District – Cleveland – May 2004

Kennedy held the scythe outstretched in her hand and couldn't help but giggle. 'It's like a kids toy' she declared before handing the Kevlar bladed and Carbon Fibre shafted weapon back to Buffy. 'I'd feel silly taking that into a fight' she said. 'It would be like giving Vi a water pistol full of Holy Water, it might work but you'd still feel stupid.'

Buffy grinned and passed the thing onto Shannon who had reached out to try handling it herself. 'It'll never replace Old Faithful' she agreed indicating the original scythe which was now being passed around the other girls, each taking it in turn to feel the power flowing through the thing. The entire place was filled to the brim with slayers although the majority would be staying elsewhere sectioned, off to apartments temporarily rented across the city to minimise response time once things got interesting.

'I prefer my 2.1' Kennedy declared. 'Sharper, tougher, better handling…'

'Feels like your girlfriend in more ways than one then' Rona interrupted with a grin. 'Hey I like my 2.1 as well' she told Kennedy who had thrown her a look. 'A twenty-First Century Scythe for a Twenty-First Century Slayer' she added, getting a thumbs-up from Amanda.

'Mine's a classic, you've got the mass-produced model' Buffy retorted.

'Better a gleaming 2004 Ford than a rusty 1920's Rolls Royce' Amanda teased.

'And available in any colour' Willow interjected. 'As long as it's red' she joked. 'I don't think Medousa likes the new scythes much either, they're kinda soulless even if they do have the Rosenberg vibe' she opined.

'They slice, they dice and they stake and they do it better than the original' Kennedy responded.

Buffy crossed her arms. 'Well I'm glad you like your cheap imitations but they'll never have the history.'

'Luddite' Rona said, pretending to cough.

'I am not a luddite' Buffy protested.

'You carry a scythe that pre-dates the Roman Empire and you still prefer a crossbow over a gun' Kennedy noted. 'No offence Boss but get with the Industrial Revolution.'

'Buffy as the conservative traditionalist hanging onto the old ways like some fossilised member of the Watchers Council' Wesley remarked wandering over from where he had been talking to the girls who had returned with him from Pylea. 'Never would have put you in the same category as my father but…'

'Don't go there Wes' Buffy warned him.

'Yeah we were just joshing her but you had to take it too far' Willow told him, trying not to laugh.

Wesley chuckled. 'Alright I admit it, comparing you to my father was beyond the bounds of good taste' he admitted. 'So you won't be going for a tweed mini-skirt this season then?' he asked, trying to keep a straight face.

'Just because your groupies over there laugh at your jokes don't go deluding yourself you're funny Wesley' Buffy told him looking over to the small group of gunslayers who were sat on the floor stripping down and cleaning rifles and periodically laughing at something one or another of them said. They were very clannish and weren't associating with the other girls much at all.

The watcher shrugged. 'I have my brief moments of comedy genius' he said. 'Thinking of jokes do you want to hear a gunslayer joke one of the girls told me?' he asked, taking a drink from the can of soda in his hand.

Buffy nodded. 'Fire away' she told him. 'And I don't mean that literally Dillinger Junior' she added.

Wesley ignored the nickname. 'So there's a legion of demons in trenches and bunkers' he said, 'and they're being besieged by some gunslayers' Wesley continued. 'Well during a lull in the fighting one of the girls yells across to them "one gunslayer is worth ten demons" and of course they're not taking that lying down so ten demons yell a battle cry and charge where the girl is calling out from' he said. 'A few seconds later the rest of the demons hear a whole load of shooting and screaming which stops suddenly and after a pause the same girl yells out again, saying that "one gunslayer is worth a hundred demons", so this time a full hundred of the monsters charge at her and once again after a few seconds the shooting and screaming starts, it goes on a really long time because there are so many of them but eventually everything goes quiet once more.'

Wesley took another drink from his can, it seemed like everyone in the room was listening in by now waiting to hear the punchline. 'Five minutes later a demon comes crawling back to his own lines, he's bleeding from a dozen wounds, barely conscious and taking his last few breaths' the watcher continued, half turning towards the Pylean veterans. 'He half falls back into a friendly trench and collapsing to his knees and gasping for breath reaches out and grabs one of his comrades. "It's a trap" he says…'

'There were two of them' the entire gunslayer contingent said simultaneously before breaking out into laughter, setting off several others.

'Could they be any more gung-ho?' Buffy asked half-seriously after the laughter died down.

'Yes but don't worry I'll be working on that' Wesley told her. 'Incidentally they've been asking about getting their bayonets enchanted.'

'I'll add it to Medousa's to-do list' Buffy told him.

Willow snapped her fingers. 'That reminds me' she said, 'the enchanted weapons thing I mean' she continued. 'I've still got to collect Illyria's swords' she said with a grimace. 'Even one at a time and using some magic to help I can barely pick them up to teleport with them.'

'At least she didn't ask to bring her old one' Wesley noted. 'It weighs as much as a small car.'

'It's being shipped here by truck' Buffy told him. 'If Berith is the size Amalfi was we might need it' she said. 'Even if he did turn it to gold it would make a great club.'

'And if nothing else just think what it would be worth afterwards' Wesley noted, 'that's a lot of gold at getting on for four hundred dollars a troy ounce.'

'Something for the retirement fund' Buffy noted.

'I'm getting an inheritance myself but I'd like some play money to be getting on with in the mean time' Kennedy said.

'I already get paid more than my Dad' Amanda responded.

'Different upbringing' Kennedy admitted with a shrug. 'They don't pay me an allowance any more and I wasn't that careful in saving it.'

'Aw the poor little rich girl' Rona said, trying not to smirk.

'It wouldn't be so bad if Stephen didn't have a sports car' Kennedy moaned.

'Why'd they cut off your allowance?' Buffy asked curiously.

'Didn't approve of my lifestyle choices' Kennedy replied.

'The slaying thing or the gay thing' Buffy queried.

'Both' Kennedy told her, 'but it's not like either were actually so much of a choice.'

The apartment door opened and Stephen stood aside so that Illyria could walk through. She wasn't really a woman in the strictest sense of the word but she looked like it so he automatically held the door for her. After some time outside in the open air Illyria's psychological discomfort resulting from the trip had faded away and the young watcher had ferried her on the rest of the way.

As Wesley greeted Illyria with a kiss Stephen greeted the sight of even more girls than usual filling the place with a sigh that spoke volumes, there was no doubt about it, he was very much a token male in a female dominated organisation.

'So if anyone needs any swords or scythes polished Stephens back' Kennedy said loudly with a smirk on her face.

'Not bloody likely' the young watcher responded.

Buffy raised her eyebrows. 'I'd have bet a hundred bucks you'd have completely broken him in by now' she told Kennedy.

'It took nearly three months to get him to put the toilet seat down' Kennedy replied, 'I'm not sure he's that bright to be honest' she joked.

'I'm just fighting back against matriarchal oppression' Stephen stated.

'Solidarity brother' Wesley responded raising a clenched fist in salute, trying to keep a straight face.

Buffy turned to Illyria. 'I'd have bet a thousand bucks that you would have bought Wesley to heel already.'

'I like him with some spirit left, not too much, just some' Illyria replied, giving Wesley a pat on the head.

Wesley grinned. 'Help, help I'm being repressed' he said.

'Bloody peasant' Illyria responded.

Eastern Plains – Pylea – June 2004

Thomas Stirling shook his head. 'Never thought I'd get to do something like this' he said as the column of cavalry continued to advance across the plains. With the occupation forces still reeling from the near total annihilation of two legions the Pylean Defence Forces had gone on the offensive and had done so using the fastest means at their disposal.

They weren't really cavalry in the strictest sense, at least they weren't apart from a small number of warhorses captured from Narweks troops and whose riders were carrying long lances, most of them were mounted infantry and wouldn't ride into action merely dismount once they reached their destination and fight on foot, but even so they were proving a nasty surprise to the enemy since the reach of the PDF had gone up immensely once they were able to range out on horseback far beyond the boundaries of the Great Northern Forest which had previously been the sole area of revolt.

Stirling hadn't ridden a horse in a while but he found the knack quickly returned and along with a dozen or so slayers who could also ride, thank God for young girls and their fascination with ponies, he was accompanying a hundred and fifty PDF troopers in a long distance raid to a seaport at the edge of the plains that bordered both part of the forest and the low mountains that a certain Princess had christened the "Cordelian Range".

After they raided the port and burned any supplies there the column would split into three and begin hitting enemy supply lines and villages friendly to the occupation over a wide area. Sebassis's forces would be forced to garrison the latter and also provide guards to the supply wagons putting further strain on the occupations manpower.

The majority of the PDF were still moving on foot but split into small platoons of ten humans and native demons apiece they were continuing the process of raids and ambushes that the gunslayers had started but on a much larger scale with fifty such platoons in the field and more training. Their equipment had just improved also in response to the presence of Wolfram and Hart Mercenaries albeit in small numbers. The purchase of a hundred RPK Light Machine Guns, itself not much more than the AK-47 the PDF were already using but with a longer barrel and a hundred round drum magazine had been logical since it gave the Pylean platoons the ability to pin enemy forces down more effectively, but perhaps more poetically the sale of dragon organs from beasts killed in Pylea had funded the appropriation of the same number of Dragunov SVD Sniper Rifles and plenty of ammunition for them. Once again a Russian design being chosen for ruggedness and simplicities sake as much as low cost. They weren't the best sniper rifles in terms of range and accuracy by any means but they would take abuse and rough handling far better than western designs which was very important here even if they were only being given to those who had demonstrated both the best marksmanship and proper weapons maintenance.

Stirling shifted uncomfortably in his saddle, even at a fairly gentle pace his backside was killing him after a couple of hours on the back of a horse. They would dismount soon to walk the horses and stretch their legs for a while and while he couldn't march like he could in the old days it would still be a blessed relief. The potential prospect of sore legs and feet being overridden by the already very real existence of a sore arse, needless to say the girls were loving it and were only disappointed they weren't going to get the chance to do a proper cavalry charge.

'They're training some horses to get used to the sound of gunfire' one of the girls said. 'Then we could shoot our guns while mounted.'

'That's how my people fought the Zulu' Rika said. 'We would fire a couple of volleys and once they closed gallop back out of spear range while they ran at us on foot, just keep doing that until they wised up or they were all dead.'

'At least you didn't mention all the trouble the British Army had with mounted Boer Commando's' Stirling noted with a smile.

'I was coming to that' Rika told him with a smile. 'Have I mentioned how much I enjoy this job?' she asked rhetorically. 'My ancestors would be proud.'

'I'm one eighth Lakota Sioux' one of the other girls said. 'Ever since I got on this horse I've had this urge to put on war paint and scalp me some palefaces' she joked.

'You're whiter than I am' Rika responded wryly.

'Some of these demons we're going to fight have got hair you could take as a souvenir but they're more like orange faces' another of the girls said.

'I can see the sea up ahead we can't be too far away now' Rika announced.

The slayer who claimed Lakota ancestry took a breath. 'Hoka hey' she said loudly.

'Say what?' another asked.

'Hoka hey' the girl repeated. 'Lakota warcry' she explained, 'It means "It's a good day to die".'

'I thought that was the Klingons' one retorted.

'We got there first before Star Trek' the girl replied with a grin. 'Hoka hey' she said again.

'Hoka hey' Rika repeated loudly.

'Hoka hey' another girl joined in.

Stirling couldn't help but smile, they were on horseback on another world but the banter couldn't help but make him recall what he was doing sixty years earlier this very week sat in the back of a transport plane heading for the coast of occupied France, perhaps this was exactly what I was meant to be doing with my life he wondered, it was certainly turning full circle in a way. 'Hoka hey' he called out at the top of his lungs.

Two hours later as the battle in the town degenerated into a melee as and he fired his antique .455 Webley Service Revolver point blank into the face of a demon Stirling hadn't felt so alive in decades. One of the girls was lying wounded at his feet and the old watcher had stepped in to save her from the monsters that were moving in to finish her off. Stirling was just grateful destiny had given him one last chance to prove he was worth something, given him a chance to make a difference. Retirement be damned he thought as blue blood splashed back over his face and faded red Paratroop Regiment beret, this was what he was meant to do. 'Come on you buggers' he bellowed. 'Come and see how a British Army Para fights' he told them as he snapped open the top-break pistol to reload, hoping the lads that had bought it in 1944 were watching him and knowing if they were they'd be cheering.

The recoil didn't used to hurt his wrist so much when he fired though Stirling thought sadly as he lined up his next shot, bloody arthritis.

Warehouse District – Cleveland – June 2004

'I'm getting bored' Faith complained.

'Well you didn't think Berith was going to show up at the stroke of midnight June First did you?' Wesley asked with a chuckle as he moved his next piece on the chessboard. He had Stephen on the ropes now he decided looking at the worried expression on the younger watchers face.

'Well I was kinda hoping so yeah' Faith replied. 'There's nothing to do' she moaned. 'Ken nearly had the city all slayed out before the rest of us arrived and if there's any evil ones left they're all hiding.'

'Order in a pizza and put on the telly' Wesley suggested.

'No anchovies' Stephen interjected.

'Nobody asked you what you liked D'Artagnon' Faith retorted.

Stephen looked up from the board, it looked bad anyway. 'You know it's my birthday today right?' he asked.

'Honest?' Faith responded in surprise.

'Yes' Stephen replied. 'Nineteen today' he told her. 'I was going to go back to LA to spend time with Emily but then this Berith thing came up so I'm here getting my arse kicked at chess instead' he continued. 'It's not much compensation for not seeing my girlfriend.'

Faith grinned. 'It ain't like Giles would have let you unwrap that present anyway' she joked.

'You're probably right there' Stephen agreed. 'Still would have been nice to spend time with her though.'

'Hey Ken' Faith called out. 'It's D'Artagnon's birthday.'

'I know' Kennedy called back from the kitchen, 'we put everyone's birthday on a calendar so nobody forgets.'

Faith nodded, that was organised, they should do that at the Hyperion too she decided. 'Did you get him a present?' Faith asked.

'The girls bought me a jacket' Stephen replied, 'gave it to me this morning before you got here' he told her. Faith was staying at the same hotel as Wesley and Illyria although not the room next door fortunately, she suspected they'd be noisy at night.

'He needs help choosing his clothes sometimes' Kennedy added, stepping out from her room.

'No I don't' Stephen protested.

'Yes you do' Kennedy told him. 'You keep wearing things you should have thrown out ages ago too.'

'They're more comfortable when they're worn in' Stephen told her. 'And it's not like I ever go out looking as ragged as he does sometimes' he added, indicating Wesley.

Wesley moved his knight, 'Check' he said smugly.

'Damn' Stephen replied, looking at the board intently.

'Thinking about clothes how the crap did Glory persuade your girlfriend to take her shopping for a new wardrobe?' Faith asked.

Wesley scratched an itch behind his ear. 'I believe the successful approach taken was to tell Illyria that she would look like a more valuable and higher-status minion if she was well dressed' he replied. 'I would also argue that Illyria's own boredom played a role, she just wanted to go do something.'

'Aren't the gun-nuts going crazy what with not getting to shoot at anything the last few weeks since they got back from Pylea?' Kennedy asked.

Wesley smiled. 'Another few days and they'll be positively tetchy' he replied. 'For now I think they're still enjoying being back and the undoubted pleasures of take-out food, clubs and the cinema.'

'And the training, they train really hard' Faith noted.

'They are a tad more driven than the average slayer' Wesley agreed. 'Checkmate' he told Stephen responding to the other watchers latest move.

'You're letting the team down losing to the LA crowd' Kennedy told Stephen.

'Sorry' Stephen apologised. 'Should I fall on my sword?' he asked.

'Not until we find someone to replace you' Kennedy replied.

'Fair enough' Stephen agreed. 'So are you going to order that Pizza?' he asked Faith. 'If you call the one on the speed-dial we might get extra toppings because Shannon's boyfriend works for them and anyhow we're good customers.'

'B and Willow should be back soon' Faith noted, 'I'd better order one for them too' she said reaching for the telephone. Buffy and Willow had been out trying to see if the witch could pick up any Berith vibes but so far nothing apparently, according to the last time the called to check in.

'You know you could easily describe this job as being tedium punctuated by moments of sheer terror' Wesley observed.

'I'm thinking about taking up a hobby' Kennedy admitted, 'maybe writing.'

'If it's autobiographical and there's plenty of graphic X-Rated love scenes I'll buy a copy' Stephen responded quickly.

'Me too' Wesley agreed.

'Makes that three' Faith added. 'What?' she asked as everyone looked at her. 'A girl can't be curious?' she asked with a grin as she hit the speed dial.

'I'm sure this count's as sexual harassment' Kennedy responded, feigning seriousness.

'You know if the scenes were graphic enough sales might provide that play money you were talking about before' Wesley suggested.

'I'll use a pen name' Kennedy decided after a moments thought.

'Need a proof reader?' Stephen offered, either magnanimously or lasciviously depending on how you looked at it.

Note from the Author:

Sorry only the one chapter this week. I had problems with my PC.

This Fanfic runs on reviews, my internet access runs less reliably on electricity ;-)