FIC: The Nightstalkers (18/?)

The room cleared at her growl, Xander last to go with a burning look at the eighteenth century demon hunter before leaving. The moment the hallway was empty, Faith released her grip and stepped back. "You need to cool down."

Holtz rose and turned to face her, his face hard. "Do not think to put hands on me again, wench. I will not permit it from the likes of you."

Likes of you? What the fuck did that mean? Quelling the instinct to find out just how many bones she could break with a single punch, Faith shook her head. "You ain't thinkin'," she pressed. "We've got a real team here, you've got the smarts and the experience. You could be a real asset-."

"I do not need advice from a cheaply-dressed harlot!" the chauvinistic man snapped.

"You need advice from someone, 'cause this clearly ain't working." Faith gritted her teeth. "Look, I know you're this shit-hot vampire hunter, and that's great, 'cause with all the vampires we're facing, your help is really appreciated, but you can't go lone wolf around here, that'll get you killed real -."

"And who do you think you are?" the man sneered. "I will tell you what I think you are!"

"I wouldn't advise that," Faith murmured as her temper frayed

"A cheaply-dressed, profane hussy who pays more attention to chasing men than to chasing vampires!" the time-traveller snapped. "Do not think to lecture me on my behaviour when you conduct yourself like a tavern whore!"

"Kay!" Before the man had chance to react, Faith grabbed him by the shoulders and slammed him into the wall, holding him a good foot off the ground. "That's enough!"

"Unhand me!" the man's eyes bulged as he grabbed her wrists and vainly tried to pull them loose.

"Not until I've finished," Faith replied. "You're here now, whatever bargain you had with Sardine or whatever the hell that demon prick is called is over. And just for notes, what sorta bone-headed bastard makes a deal with a demon and expects it to end well?" Faith shook her head, that wasn't important now. "Whatever, you're here now. This is how things are gonna be, you're gonna work with us, be part of the team. And you're gonna be welcome." Her eyes hardened to ebony stone. "But if you fuck around and get any of us hurt or killed because of your Lone Ranger shit, I'll come lookin' for ya, ya dig?"

"I dig," the demon hunter snarled as she lowered him to the ground and released her grip. "And understand this, I will not allow anything to get in my vengeance! The lord has delivered me here to vanquish Angelus, and vanquish him I shall!" With that Holtz spun on his heel and strode away.

"With some people, you can try and try," Faith shook her head as she cast a look after the departing vampire hunter. "They just won't freakin' listen. Annoyin' that."

* * *

"I'm glad you agreed to come out," Wesley smiled nervously at his companion as they sat down at one of the Expresso Pump's outside tables.

Amy smiled back at him, his own nerves reflected in her eyes. "I'm glad I came out too." Amy's eyes suddenly darkened as she looked down at the dirty pavement. "If only to escape the mess my spell created."

"Come now," Wesley reached across the table and squeezed the young witch's hand. "You have nothing to reprove yourself for. You brought us a legendary fighter through time at great risk to yourself. What you did was exceptionally brave and resourceful. If it goes wrong," he shrugged. "One should remember not only your motivations and efforts, but that the failure wasn't yours, you succeeded in what you attempted, but was caused by Holtz's mulish idiocy."

Amy smiled wanly. "Thank you."

"Quite alright," he enjoyed the moment's comfortable silence. "And thank you again for agreeing to come out with me."

"I'm enjoying it," Amy nodded. "A chance to be away from all the gloomy talk of vampires, away from all the danger."

"Oh," Wesley felt his face fell. Was that the only reason she'd agreed?

Amy suddenly smiled impishly. "A chance to be alone with a handsome, learned older man."

"I'll leave as soon as he gets here," Wesley deadpanned even as his heart leapt.

"Thank you." Amy nodded soberly before giggling. The witch's face sobered. "Is Faith alright? Everyone heard about her and Jonathan…."

"I've tried to talk to her," Wesley sighed. His Slayer had a wild almost ferocious exterior but beneath the leather armour and devil-may-care bravado, she was still a child and one that had been abused horribly in her past.

It was Amy's turn to squeeze his hand. "I'm sure she'll be fine with you to look after her." The witch raised her hand to her forehead, brow furrowing as she grimaced. "My head-."

"I know," Wesley started to raise his own hand to his head only for his strength to suddenly desert him. "What's-." He tipped forward, crashing to the ground as darkness enveloped him.

* * *

Faith swallowed as she stopped outside Jonathan's room and stared at the door, this was one of the hardest things she'd ever done. Her hand raised three times then fell limply back to her side without ever reaching the door.

"Here," she started slightly at Xander's voice behind her, "let me help you with that."

She frowned at the man as he stepped towards the door. "What you doin'?"

"You like him, he likes you," the grey-haired warrior stepped around her to grab the door handle and shove the door open, "in this life, in our lives, we won't find much happiness. Best to grab it where and when you can." Even as the door opened, the Sunnydaler dared to place his hand in the small of her back and push her forward. "Visitor for you, Jon. Have fun you crazy kids."

Faith turned to glare at the young man, but by the time her shock had worn off the door had already closed behind her. Faith sighed as she turned back, then flinched at Jonathan sat at his TV. "That a Playstation?" Jonathan nodded, his gaze twitchy, constantly jumping. "Wicked cool, I always wanted one."

"I…I thought we said all we had to say."

Faith blinked. Jonathan's voice had shook as he spoke, but she hadn't figured on him getting up the nerve to speak, just listen as she told him what was what. Strange how things never went the way you wanted them to. "We both said stuff," Faith shuffled from foot to foot, "stuff we shouldn't."

"Faith," Jonathan interrupted her again. That was getting' to be wicked annoyin'. "We can't work, you're all stuff I'm not. Beautiful, strong, confident, exciting, wild. I'm just -."

"You're just sweet, kind, and patient," she placed a finger on the short man's lips, stilling his verbal outburst. Worked better than a muzzle actually. "People say we're too different, screw 'em. What do you feel?" Jonathan gulped and reddened. "Yeah," that's what I figured." Her confidence growing, Faith eased herself into Jonathan's lap. "I feel it too, the way my heart jumps when you're in the same room, the way it feels when I," she ran her thumb down the blushing boy's cheek, "touch you. How safe I feel when," Faith took Jonathan's arms and wrapped them around her, "you're holding me."

"What's best is when," Jonathan gulped. "When you're kissing me."

"Easily sorted," Faith leaned in.

The door crashed open. "Sorry to interrupt!" Xander peered through the doorway. "But we've got an emergency, "Wesley and Amy have been taken into hospital!"

"Shit!" Faith jumped up. "We'll carry this on later, Jon!"

* * *

Vocah chuckled as he watched the commotion, watched the rebels rush out from their home and into their cars. It had been pathetically simple to stroll up to the Watcher and his lady friend, and mark them with his sigil.

Foolish mortals, thinking the day's light protected them from all of creation's monsters.

With his distraction now fully in force it would be simple to complete the next stage of his plan. He waited until the three cars roared off up the street, leaving the house empty, before stalking across the road, carrying in his hands the time bomb the vampires had so thoughtfully made for him.

* * *

Faith's hackles rose as she raced into the hospital, the childhood stench of mingled detergent and antiseptic catching in the back of her throat and provoking a dozen unwanted memories. Forcing her own pain down deep, she strode over to the reception counter. "Whyndhm-Pryce, where is he?"

The middle-aged, grey-haired woman looked up at her bark, eyes widening in shock. "I beg your-."

"Simple question!" she snapped, fists slammed into the desk. God her heart was beating so loudly she could barely hear her own bellows. "Where the fuck is Wesley!"

"What!" Her head snapped around when two pairs of hands grabbed her shoulders. She glared imperiously at Gunn and Jonathan. "What the hell you doing?"

"Dragging you away before you give the old dear a heart-attack," Gunn drawled.

"Maybe you should let Xander handle this," Jonathan suggested.

"Handle what?" Faith protested. "He's my-." Her knees almost buckled under her as she realised what was happening. Her Watcher, the last connection to the nearest thing to a mom she'd ever had, and her constant companion ever since she'd been a Slayer, loyally at her side no matter what, could be dying for all she knew.

Xander swung away from the reception counter. "They're both in the psych ward. Come on."

"Anyone else wondering about the odds of them both falling ill of the same thing at the same time?" Jonathan muttered as they started down the creepily sterile corridors.

"I smell the stench of black magic," Holtz agreed in a rumble.

"Yeah, yeah," Faith nodded as she looked up at the signs directing her where to go. Place was a freakin' maze. "We'll figure that out-."

"NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH! STOPPPPP! STOPPP!"

"Jesus!" the hairs on the back of her neck prickled as she heard Wes and Amy's screams in the distance. She immediately picked up the pace, charging through the corridors, skipping and swerving between gurneys, porters and food trolleys with an agility and speed that left her companions in her dust.

The first room she burst into was Wes', her Watcher's eyes were ringed in black as tears fell continuously from them, the wildly-struggling Englishman kept in his shaking bed by the Velcroed restraints cuffed to his ankles and wrists. In an instant, she was shoving her way through the crowd of nurses and doctors surrounding the bed. "What are you doin'?" she grabbed the nearest doctor's arm. "Do somethin'!"

The lined-faced man winced at her grip. "Orderly, remove her."

Faith snarled as a big hand dropped on her shoulder. Mood she was in that was a big fuckin' mistake. Her elbow snapped back into the Orderly's midsection. The tall man folded with a croak, his head sliding easily into an over the shoulder headlock that she turned into a throw that sent the big man over Wes' bed and crashing into the far wall where he slid down to lie on the floor. "I asked you a question!" Faith snapped, her other hand having not moved and eyes not having shifted from the doctor during the half-second it took her to deal with the orderly. "And I ain't hearin' any answers."

The doctor's face paled as he looked from the groaning orderly, to the madly wriggling Watcher and back at her. "D…does your friend do drugs?"

"Look at him!" Faith laughed hysterically. "He's as stiff as they come, 'course he don't use drugs!"

Wesley suddenly jolted upright as far as his restraints would allow him. "HE COMES! THE TERROR OF THE AGES! HE COMES FOR US ALL!"

The doctor jumped, really it was hard to tell who freaked him out more, Wes or her. Humiliating when she thought 'bout it. The doctor turned back towards her. "W…well we've given him a CAT scan, there's no organic damage that we can see on him or his companion, but we can't seem to sedate either of them."

"He has the mark of Vocah upon him."

* * *

Vocah strode out of the rebels' house, robe flapping around him. Once he'd crossed the street and entered the park, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his detonator and flipped the switch.

Vocah chuckled as the house behind him exploded into flames, fire reaching up into the sky as the ground shook beneath him, debris erupting out of its roof to crash into near-by buildings and the surrounding area. Humankind was weak, but surprisingly inventive. With their bombs and missiles they really didn't need their help to destroy themselves, they'd manage it soon enough.

Still, why let them have all the fun?

* * *

The black man glared at the burning building as he climbed out of his dark-tinted Porsche. He noted and felt the flames shooting out of its crater-like roof, turning his face away from the heat. Fire-engines surrounded the devastated building, a swarm of fire-fighters struggling to bring the blaze under control. Even as he watched half the right wall collapsed outwards, a dusty cloud billowing up as the bricks hit the ground.

"Our contacts were there?" his female companion commented. "Looks like we're screwed."

"An accident like that, they'll have to be injured," the dark-skinned man commented as he jumped back in the car. "We'll try the nearest hospital."

* * *

Faith spun on her heel, glaring at Holtz framed in the hospital room door. "What ya talkin' 'bout Willis?" The vampire hunter stared at her then glanced meaningfully at the doctor. "Yeah," Faith strolled over to him and out of the room, noting that while the rest of the gang appeared to have disappeared into Amy's room, Jonathan, Xander, and Cordy had joined the vampire hunter in loitering in the corridor. "'Kay, who's Vocah?"

"In the year of our lord 1745, a dark evil afflicted Somerset," Holtz began, "butchering boys and girls in the foulest of ways. As these murders were done in the daylight, so we knew vampires weren't committing them. We did research on some demons and although it wasn't Vocah, I recognise his symbol from the research, the sigil on your Watcher's forearm," Faith glanced over her shoulder and at the flailing Englishman, "is his mark."

"'Kay," Faith turned back to the vampire hunter, "what's the scoop?" The out of his time demon hunter stared blankly at her, Faith sighed. "Who's Vocah?"

"Vocah is a warrior of the underworld, a creature of considerable powers." Holtz paused. "In addition to being a skilled fighter, he is also a practioner of the dark arts. It's his sigil on the Watcher, but remove Vocah from this plane and his influence will die with him."

"That's a plan I can get behind," Faith decided.

"Okay," Xander nodded. "Give me a minute and we'll get the gang together."

"No," Faith shook her head. "Amy and Wes are helpless-."

"HE COMES! AND NONE CAN STAND IN HIS PATH!"

She started at Wes' sudden scream. Man, you'd think he'd be hoarse by now. "They need protecting, the rest of you stand guard in case either Vocah or Ripper try anythin'. Danny," she glanced at the glowering 18th century gentlemen, "and me will settle Vocah's hide."