A/N: I'm a big fan of Nathan Fillion, and I was tickled to see him play the baddie in this show. He's so deliciously evil as Caleb.

Enjoy the chapter, and Happy Mother's Day! :-D

(Note: Some dialog taken directly from the episode.)

Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and its characters are the property of Joss Whedon.

Dirty Little Secret

Dirty Little Lies

Say your prayers and comb your hair

Save your soul tonight

Drift among the faithful

Bury your desires

Aberrations fill your head

You need a place to hide

And I am

-Apocalyptica (feat. Corey Taylor), "I'm Not Jesus"

The house was bursting at the seams. It was bad enough when all the girls were up and about, but at night, there just wasn't enough space anymore. So, after much internal debate, Buffy decided they would have to let some of the Potentials sleep under someone else's roof. Since Xander still had his apartment, he was the only real choice. Most of the girls who spent the night at his place were the more experienced fighters. That way, if there was any trouble, they stood a better chance at holding their own until help arrived.

"I can't believe we're finally gonna have our room all to ourselves!" Buffy flopped back onto the bed, arms splayed, feet dangling over the side.

Spike grinned and leaned over her, supporting his weight on his arms to either side of her. "Whatever shall we do with all this privacy?" he purred.

Buffy laughed and threaded her fingers through his white-blonde hair. "I can think of a few things..."

Before their lips had a chance to meet, the distant sound of the phone's ring reached their ears. Spike cursed and rolled aside, lying on his back. "Bugger," he growled at the ceiling.

Buffy heaved a sigh. "Well, we're gonna have to go patrol, anyway," she muttered as she reluctantly got out of bed. Spike stood as well, grumbling as he followed her out of the room. The phone stopped mid-ring as they came down the stairs. A moment later, Dawn came into view with the cordless receiver in hand. "It's Willow," she said, offering the phone.

Buffy took it with a nod of thanks and brought it to her ear. "Hey, Wil. Run into some trouble on the way back?"

"Sort of," Willow replied, "I-I almost ran over a girl lying in the middle of the road. Somebody stabbed her."

Buffy tensed, "A Potential?"

"Could be. I, uh, can't really tell for sure. The girl's unconscious. Me and Faith got her to the hospital. She's in surgery right now."

"So, Faith's with you." Buffy frowned at the mention of the other Slayer. Willow had called from LA earlier in the day to give her a highly abbreviated version of what went down there, so she knew about the attempt on Faith's life and her escape from prison. Buffy also knew that Faith had helped Angel with something, though she didn't really know what. Truthfully, Buffy wasn't sure she wanted to know. Her feelings about Angel's friendship with the fallen Slayer were...complicated.

"Yeah," Willow sounded uncertain, "Th-That's good, though, right? I mean, another Slayer on our side."

"Yeah. The more the merrier." Buffy suddenly wanted to bring this conversation to a close. "Listen, I've gotta go patrol. Call if there's any change with the girl, okay?"

"Okay. Um, i-is Tara there?"

Buffy winced; of course Wil would wanna talk to her girlfriend! "Hang on a sec."

She found Tara in the dining area with Giles and Dawn, poring over old texts for some kind of research. Buffy handed the phone over, then headed for the door without another word. Spike was already waiting for her, a stake in each hand. He passed one to her, pocketed the other, and the two of them headed out.

The Hellmouth seemed to be affecting the local demon population as much as the humans. While there weren't as many fledgelings as there used to be, the few that did rise were especially aggressive, making it necessary for both Buffy and Spike to patrol. Buffy had damn near gotten her arm torn off the last time she tried to go it alone. There was no convincing Spike to stay at home and "babysit" this time.

Little more than an hour later, Spike was chasing down a young female vamp while Buffy was occupied with a male fledgeling a ways back. The female vampire had given him quite a fight until she realized she was outmatched by the much older vamp. Now she was playing up the whole blonde waifish victim running in terror from the Big Bad. She wasn't even wearing her gameface. Spike rather enjoyed the chase. Kinda brought him back to his old hunting days, back when he still ate people.

The vampire girl stumbled to a halt, looking frantically around for her pursuer. Spike leapt out from concealment and laid her out with a solid punch to the jaw. Sneering in triumph, Spike loomed over the unconscious form, preparing to get out his stake, when something grabbed him from behind and sent him flying into a nearby memorial. He stumbled to his feet, shaking his addled head and snarling. But instead of another vampire, he found himself confronting a young woman with flowing dark hair, wearing leather pants and a denim jacket.

"What you wanna do to her, vamp? Huh? Something like this?" The woman backhanded him, then got him with a right hook, knocking him to the ground.

Spike jumped to his feet again, relaxing his face back into its human features. "Nice punch you got there," he smirked, rubbing his sore jaw. "Let me guess," he eyed her as the two of them circled each other, "Leather pants, nice right cross, doe eyes, holier-than-thou glower...you must be Faith."

"Oh, goody. I'm famous," the Slayer drawled.

"I was told you were comin'," he started to explain, "Bit of a misunderstanding here. I'm—"

"Spike. We've met before."

"We have? I don't think we—" he was cut off by a sudden kick to the midsection. "Ow! Bloody hell, what're you doing? I'm on your side."

Faith cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah? Maybe you haven't heard, I've reformed."

She swung at him. Spike blocked it and punched her. "So have I," he countered, "I reformed way before you did."

Faith kicked him again.

"Stop..."

A hard jab clipped his jaw.

"Hitting..."

Spike's left fist sent her reeling back. "...Me! We're on the same side!"

Faith scoffed, "Please. D'you think I'm stupid?"

He couldn't resist that opening. "Well, yeah."

"You were attacking that girl." Faith decked him, then an unexpected fist from her right connected with her face.

"Sorry, Faith," Buffy apologized with zero sincerity, "I didn't realize that was you."

Faith rubbed her jaw. "It's alright, B. Luckily, you still punch like you used to."

Buffy quirked an eyebrow, then turned to Spike with a more concerned expression. "You okay?"

The vampire let out a rueful snort, "Yeah. Terrific."

Faith watched their interaction with an incredulous stare. "You're protecting vampires? Are you the bad Slayer now?" she frowned, "Am I the good Slayer now?"

"He's with me," Buffy stated matter-of-factly, "He has a soul."

Faith's eyebrows rose. "Oh, he's like Angel?"

"No," Spike growled the same time Buffy replied, "Sort of." He glared at her. "I'm nothing like Angel!"

"He fights on my side," Buffy threw a pointed look at Faith, "which is more than I can say for some of us."

"Yeah?" Faith sneered, "Well, if he's so good, what's he doing chasing down defenseless—" The now-conscious vampire girl abruptly tackled the second Slayer.

"That's one of the bad guys," Buffy stated unnecessarily.

Faith glared at the creature's distinctive vamp-face. "You should make 'em wear signs." She threw herself into the fight, part of her rejoicing at returning to her roots. "May I?" she snatched the stake from Buffy's holster, "Thanks."

A moment later, the vampire was dust.

"Angel's dull as a table lamp," a petulant Spike continued as if they hadn't been interrupted, "And we have very different coloring."

Buffy shook her head in amusement.

"Okay, catching up," Faith lowered the stake, "Anything else I gotta know?"

Buffy scrutinized the other Slayer for a moment, then smiled thinly and declared, "Nice to have you back."

"Whoa. Memory lane," Faith's gaze wandered over the the familiar interior, "Same old house."

Buffy's mouth quirked in a rueful grimace. "Yeah, well, every piece of furniture has been destroyed and replaced since you left, so, actually, new house."

"Buffy?" Dawn stepped out from the dining room, arms crossed, a hard glare fixed on the new arrival. Behind her, Giles and Tara came into view as well.

"We have a new house guest," Buffy announced. Spike squeezed by her and went to observe the impending awkwardness by the stairs, leaning against the bannister.

"Hey," Faith grinned, "Got a spare bed for a wanted fugitive?"

"Hello, Faith," Giles greeted her coolly. Dawn wouldn't even show her that much courtesy. Tara just gazed at her in tentative curiosity.

"Huh. Guess 'wanted' wasn't really accurate," Faith muttered.

Dawn turned to address Buffy, "Does she have to stay here? 'Cause there's some nice hotels that welcome try-to-kill-your-sister types."

Faith seemed amused by the teen's chilly reception. "Check it out. Brat's all woman-size."

Later, Buffy would muse over the fact that Faith remembered Dawn at all, considering the teen didn't even exist the last time Faith was in Sunnydale. Apparently, the monks' spell had been very thorough.

"Look," Buffy fought the urge to sigh in frustration, "I know none of us is thrilled, but we gotta make the best of this situation. Faith's too valuable a warrior to turn away."

Dawn's mouth thinned to an angry line, but she didn't argue any further. She spun on her heel and disappeared into the next room. Tara and Giles shared a look, then the witch stepped forward and offered a hesitant smile to Faith. "Well, Faith. W-We better, um, see if we can find someplace to squeeze you in for the night."

Faith shrugged and sauntered after the other woman in search of a spare sleeping bag.

"Well," Giles sighed, "This should be interesting."

Buffy and Faith managed to avoid each other the next morning. As soon as she choked down a piece of dry toast for breakfast, Buffy all but ran out the door to get to work. Of course, once she got to the high school, she realized she had another tense confrontation in store. Knowing this could not be put off, she headed straight for the principal's office.

Wood looked like the victim of a horrific mugging. Bruises and scrapes marred his face, a couple of butterfly bandages held a deep gash over his right eye closed. His movements were stiff and cautious, even though he was doing nothing more strenuous than filling out paperwork.

Buffy leaned against the doorjamb and tried to sound casual, "You look better."

Without looking up, Wood replied, "No, I don't."

"No, you don't," Buffy agreed, dropping the pretense.

He finally turned to look at her, a tentative smile on his battered face. "But I'll be okay. Unless, of course, you start beating up on me now."

"I won't. Well, I thought about it," she said, only half-joking, "I made some doodles. But I've given it some more thought and, as far as I'm concerned, we're on even ground. I meant what I said, though. I don't have time for your vendetta. But I need you in this fight. I want you on my side."

"Thanks," Wood responded with quiet sincerity, "That means a lot."

Buffy knew better than to expect a full apology from him. But as long as he was willing to put aside his need for revenge, that was good enough for her.

"So...we're good?"

"Absolutely." Wood turned his attention back to his paperwork. "You're fired."

"What?" Buffy exclaimed.

"Effective immediately."

Buffy gawked at him. "You're firing me? Wha—I just refrained from kicking your ass!"

"Buffy, there's nothing here for you," Wood reasoned, "I mean, people are leaving town. Half the kids don't even bother showing up anymore. You've got things to deal with that are much worse than anything here. Look at the big picture."

Buffy sat herself down in one of the chairs across from him, her expression grim. "Right. The big picture. The one with the big war and all the dead little girls."

Wood shook his head. "Not dead. Not if you get them ready."

She swallowed around a lump in her throat. "I don't want to lead them into war. It can't be the right thing."

"Most wars aren't, y'know," the principal stated gently.

"Some of these girls haven't even been tested in battle."

Wood nodded, thoughtful. "Then, I guess, maybe you should test them."

Buffy knew he was right. She just wished the responsibility didn't have to rest on her shoulders.

Spike didn't think it was possible, but the chits were even more hyper than usual. Maybe it was the novelty of having a second Slayer around. Or maybe it was all that iced coffee some genius decided to give them. Spike just wished they'd saved the enthusiasm for nightfall, when he could've made his escape to Willy's or The Bronze. Instead, he had to settle for the relative solitude of the gray, dismal basement.

He was just dozing off on the cot—which smelled suspiciously of Xander and Anya—when the basement door opened, briefly letting in the noisy chatter upstairs. Then came the thud of heavy boots on the steps. Spike cracked open an eye, saw a weary Faith sitting at the foot of the stairs lighting up a cigarette.

"You craving a moment alone in the dank? Or can I bum one?"

Faith jumped slightly, obviously not expecting anyone else to be using her hiding place. She smirked at the sight of Spike lounging in the cot, shirtless and completely unselfconscious about it.

"Well, I guess you can smoke all you want," she remarked, walking over to hand him the cigarette, "Big C not really an issue."

Spike took a long drag, then blew out a plume of smoke. "Teeth get yellow after an eternity. Gotta watch that."

Faith hopped up onto a small work table and lit another cigarette for herself. An amused glint came to her eyes as she noticed the chains on the wall. "Huh."

Spike smirked, "Right. It's not what it looks like."

Faith held up her hands. "Hey, to each his own, man."

The vampire's expression sobered a little. "I got dangerous for a while."

Faith's head tilted in curiosity. "Was this before the soul, or after?"

"After," Spike smiled, "But I got over it. In case you're feeling all dust-happy again after your long incarceration."

"Well, not if you're all repenty," she teased, "Takes the fun out of it."

There was a noticeable swell in the noise upstairs.

Faith groaned, "No more Starbucks for the wannabes, man. They've been spazzing for, like, hours."

"Yeah. It does get a bit much up there," Spike agreed.

"They're good girls. Just green, is all."

"So, why aren't you up there imparting?" he asked.

The Slayer grimaced, "That's Buffy's thing. Anyway, I just spent a good stretch of time locked away with a mess of female types. Kinda had my fill."

"But you waited until Angel needed your help to bust out of jail," Spike pointed out, "You had the power to walk away anytime. Nothing to stop you."

"I stopped me," Faith retorted, all seriousness "I got dangerous for a while."

Spike took another drag off his cigarette. "You over it?"

"More or less," Faith grinned and shrugged off her jacket, her movements lithe and unconsciously sensual. "I pull for the good guys, now."

"What's the less?" Spike queried.

Faith shrugged, "The usual stuff."

"Such as?"

A sensual grin worked its way across her face. "I was thinking of looking up this guy I know, likes to make me dress up as a schoolgirl and uses this bullwhip." She winked. "Long incarceration."

Spike chuckled, "You could do better. Schoolgirl thing's old hat."

"It's all old hat, man. Every guy's got some wack fantasy. Scratch the surface of any granola-type dude, it's naughty nurses and horny cheerleaders."

Spike's smile turned almost wistful, thinking of the cheerleader uniform gathering dust in his and Buffy's closet. The way things were going, Buffy wouldn't be putting it on for him again anytime soon.

Faith continued, oblivious to his train of thought, "I figure, if you can't beat 'em—"

"Join 'em."

"Just don't forget who's on top," she concluded.

Spike raised his scarred eyebrow. "That, I suspect, would be you."

"You got that right." Full lips stretched in a flirtatious grin, Faith rose from the table, sauntered over to the cot, and sat down beside the vampire, their shoulders brushing. "I've met you before, you know."

"Yeah, you made a great impression on my chin," Spike muttered.

"Not in the graveyard. Before that. I was kinda wearing a different body," Faith explained, running her hands down her sides for emphasis, "You seemed okay with it."

Spike exhaled in amusement and shook his head. "The body swap. With Buffy."

"She fill you in on that whole deal?" Faith was surprised; how close were these two?

"She told me it went down," Spike casually replied, "Failed to mention who was driving her skin around."

Faith coyly lowered her eyes. "I may have said a few things."

Spike remembered all too well what those "things" were. They were part of what started him on the road to his obsessive crush on Buffy, and had fueled more than a few of his fantasies. "Like you could ride me at a gallop 'til my knees buckled," he recited, "Squeeze me 'til I pop like warm champagne. Not the kind of thing a man forgets."

"Should've known it wasn't Blondie behind the wheel," Faith chided, "She'd never throw down like that."

Spike's grin widened. "Oh, you have been away."

Faith laughed in surprise, "Don't even tell me Little Miss Tightly Wound's been getting her naughty on?" She nudged his arm playfully.

"Not of late," Spike lamented. What with the war and all those Slayer wannabes scampering around, didn't leave much time or privacy for anything except the occasional quick fumble.

"She the one who gave you the love bite?" Faith's hand reached towards the Claim mark on his neck. Spike jerked away, repelled by the thought of anyone but Buffy touching it.

"Yeah, uh, it's sort of private."

"Wow," Faith shook her head in amazement, "Everybody's just full of surprises."

The sound of the basement door opening again heralded another arrival. A moment later, Buffy descended the stairs and took in the sight of Faith sitting cozily with her shirtless boyfriend.

"Hey, B," Faith waved. Spike winced and rubbed the back of his head, all too aware of how this intimate scene looked. Plus, he could feel Buffy's smoldering jealousy. Part of him was rather thrilled, but mostly he wondered just how deep in trouble he was.

"Well, it's nice to see you two getting along so well," Buffy observed with false cheeriness.

Even Faith picked up on the tension and decided it might be best to get up and put some distance between her and Spike. "Yeah, uh, you just know all the cool vampires," she said, walking back to the table to retrieve her jacket.

"Yeah." Buffy's tone matched her icy gaze.

Spike hastily tried to change the subject, "Hey, aren't you usually at work about now?"

"I kinda decided to cut back on my hours," Buffy said, her hard stare fixed on the other Slayer, "Figured I'd be better off focusing on what's going on around here."

Spike was slightly relieved to realize that the majority of Buffy's ire was focused on Faith rather than him. It was weird, though; Buffy's feelings towards Faith were eerily similar to his feelings towards Angel. Seeing this kind of thing from an outside perspective, it seemed awfully petty.

"Buffy, is that you?" Tara's voice called down.

Buffy turned her head towards the stairs. "I'm down here!"

"Willow just called from the hospital," Tara informed her, "The girl's awake."

That effectively put an end to the moment of tension. Buffy strode over to where Spike still lounged on the cot and made it a point to give him a long, deep kiss before turning away and heading for the steps. The look she cast Faith's way in passing was unmistakeable. He's mine, she silently asserted.

Faith and Spike shared an awkward look once she was gone.

The girl's name was Shannon, and she was indeed a Potential. She had been running from a group of Bringers through the woods outside of town when she came upon the road and saw a pickup approaching. The driver had stopped at her frantic waving, and Shannon jumped into the truck, thinking once they drove off that the danger was past.

"He was a minister or something. At least he dressed like one. I thought he was trying to save me, at first."

But the truth was much worse. "He said...the Bringers were his boys. Right before he burned me," Shannon peeled back the gauze patch on the side of her neck, revealing a circular burn on her flesh with some kind of cross at its center. It looked painful. Willow got out her camera and snapped a couple of pictures for future research. Shannon continued, "He wanted me to tell you something. Before he...cut me...he told me to give the Slayer a message."

Buffy leaned closer. "What is it?"

"He said...'I have something of yours.'"

As soon as she and Willow returned to the house, Buffy called a meeting of all the Potentials and Scoobies. They crowded into the living room, eyes riveted on the Slayer.

"We've got a new player in town," Buffy announced, "Dresses like a preacher. Calls himself Caleb. Looks like he's working for the First. He's taunting us, calling us out. He says he's got something of mine. Could be another girl. Could be something else. Don't know. Don't care." Buffy's expression hardened. "I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of training. He's got something of mine? Fine. I'm getting it back. And you guys are coming with me."

There were more than a few doubts over this impulsive plan. Buffy and the Scoobies, Faith, and Spike, all went into another room to discuss strategy—and voice their misgivings.

"We don't even know where we're going," Willow protested.

"That's why we need to do a little recon first," Buffy looked towards Faith, "You up for it?"

The other Slayer nodded, "Point me where you want me."

"And you're certain this is the best course of action?" a worried Giles asked, "Y-You don't even know what this man has of yours. If he, in fact, has anything."

"It could be a girl," Buffy said, "A Potential trying to get to us."

"It could be a stapler," the Watcher countered.

Buffy pursed her lips, "I'm going in anyway."

"Buffy," Giles tried to reason, "most of the girls have yet to be in the field, let alone in a life-or-death situation."

"Then it's time we test them. I'll just take the ones that have been here the longest," she compromised, "The rest can stay behind."

"Could be that's just what he wants you to do," Spike pointed out, "The old bait and switch."

Willow nodded, "Yeah, he lures us away and then kills the girls we leave behind."

"I know. That's why I need you and Tara to stay here with them." At their startled looks, Buffy explained, "You two are my most powerful weapons. I know you can both keep them safe if anything happens."

"An unknown man breezes into town, says he has something of yours," Xander fidgeted, "Buffy, this thing's got 'trap' written all over it."

But Buffy would not be talked out of it. "He won't be expecting a full attack. Not this soon. That's why we have to move."

"We know nothing about this man," Giles argued, "We cannot go into battle unprepared. We have to have more time."

"Giles, we don't have time. And you're not going into battle."

Giles looked hurt by this, until Buffy explained, "You're the last Watcher. The knowledge you have's too valuable to risk losing in this fight. If anything happens to me, you're the best person to keep training the Potentials."

Giles mulled over her words, then sighed and nodded. On that logic, at least, he could agree.

"Faith and I are gonna do recon," Buffy stated, "The rest of you, start prepping the girls." With that, the two Slayers left the house to begin their search.

It didn't take them long to find what they were looking for. Up ahead, a hooded figure walked with purpose into the woods. The Slayers followed at a distance, careful not to be overheard.

"No eyes, but look at him go," Faith marveled, "They got sonar or something?"

"Or something, I guess," Buffy replied, "Pretty good when they attack."

"They just roam free around town?"

Buffy shrugged, "Well, normally, they show up out of nowhere and then either stab or get stabbed, and then they run off."

"Looks like this guy wants to be found," Faith looked concerned, "Adds weight to the whole 'it's a trap' theory."

Buffy didn't even try to hide her frustration when she retorted, "I am through waiting around for people to attack us."

"Hey, I'm with you," Faith shrugged, "Drop me in the hornets nest. What the hell."

They walked in silence for a while, then Buffy finally voiced the question she'd been holding back since encountering Faith in the cemetery, "Why'd you come back?"

Faith frowned at her, "Willow said you needed me. Didn't give it a lot of thought. Do you— Am I getting you want me to be not here?"

"No," Buffy was quick to deny, much to their mutual surprise, "That's not what I meant. I'm glad that you're here. It's...good. Thank you."

"No problem. You know me, all about the good deeds." Faith smirked.

"Willow said you helped out Angel."

The other Slayer nodded.

Buffy hesitated, then finally asked, "How is he?"

"Better," Faith answered vaguely, "I had to do this whole magical mind-walk with him."

Buffy frowned, "You were in Angel's mind?"

Before they could delve any farther into Faith's metaphysical adventure, they came upon the Bringer's destination.

"What is this place?" Faith wondered. It was an old building in the middle of nowhere. It had kind of a monastic appearance.

"Look," Buffy pointed, "There's more of them."

Dozens of hooded figures came and went like busy ants.

"I think we just found our hornets nest," Faith remarked.

Buffy nodded, "Let's get the cavalry."

When they returned to the house, they heard an argument in progress in the living room. Apparently, some of the Potentials decided to voice their doubts over the whole plan.

"Buffy doesn't care how many of us she puts in danger," Rona declared.

Buffy was about to walk in there with a rebuttal when she heard Xander—the ever faithful heart of the Scoobies—speak up in her defense.

"Let me tell you something about Buffy. I've been through more battles with her than you all can ever imagine. She's stopped everything that's ever come up against her. She's laid down her life, literally, to protect the people around her. This girl has died two times, and she's still standing. You're scared? That's smart. You got questions? You should. But you doubt her motives, you think Buffy is all about the kill, then you take the little bus to battle. I've seen her heart, and this time not literally, and I'm telling you right now, she cares more about your lives than you will ever know. You gotta trust her. She's earned it."

Buffy smiled, touched by her friend's speech. Then Faith spoke up, letting everyone know the Slayers were back, "Damn, I never knew you were that cool."

"Well, you always were a little slow," Buffy quipped, a rare show of camaraderie between her and Faith.

"Alright," Buffy addressed the assembled fighters, "let's saddle up."

It was decided that Faith, Xander, and some of the girls would wait outside as a backup force, in case things got hairy. The rest followed Buffy into the darkened building.

Spike could smell the fear rising off the girls. It put him on edge more than the venue did. As far as creepy abandoned buildings went, this place was actually kind of nice. Lots of hardwood, casks and barrels all over the place, many of them still filled with wine that, judging from the scent, hadn't gone off yet.

"What is this place?" a nervous Molly asked as they descended the stairs into the massive cellar.

"Looks like an old vineyard," Buffy answered.

"An evil vineyard, huh?" Kennedy's confident tone sounded only slightly forced.

"Like Falcon Crest," Spike said, earning him a few puzzled looks. Didn't any of these girls watch TV?

"Stay alert, you guys," Buffy warned, "Bringers are here, somewhere. Just need to find out where."

As they crept past the rows of towering casks, Spike noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. "Shouldn't be too hard."

The Bringers leapt out of hiding and the battle began. Spike was pleased to see that the Potentials were holding their own, even with their lack of Slayer strength. For a while it looked like this mission would succeed. Then the Bringers unexpectedly fell back and a new figure sauntered into view. Spike saw the collar and knew right away this had to be Caleb. The man sported a mop of brown hair and boyish good looks. His charming grin was almost contagious. But it was his eyes that gave him away; there was nothing behind them. It was like looking into a demon's eyes, only somehow worse. Spike instinctively wanted to recoil from the man.

"Well, now!" Caleb declared, "You girls are just burning with righteousness, aren't you? Problem is, you think you're blazing like suns, when really you're burning like matchsticks in the face of the darkness." He grinned at their wary stares. "You having fun? Now, I hope my boys haven't worn you out too much. I need you fit for when I purify you."

"Save the sermon, padre," Buffy snapped, "I heard you have something of mine."

"Well, I do now!" Caleb laughed, indicating the girls with a sweep of his arm. "You liked my little message, did you? You know, I ruined a perfectly good knife on that girl," his affable expression took on a hint of disgust, "Got her soiled blood all over the place. I may need to get a new truck."

This bloke's a real sack of hammers, Spike thought. He was standing right beside Buffy, but he might as well have been invisible for all the notice Caleb gave him. The preacher's eyes were fixated solely on the petite blonde woman, something akin to awe in his expression. "So, you're the Slayer. The Slayer, the strongest, the fastest, the most aflame with that most precious invention of all mankind; the notion of goodness," Caleb smiled, "Well, the Slayer must indeed be powerful."

His fist suddenly lashed out with inhuman speed, sending the Slayer careening across the room and crashing into the far wall. She dropped to the floor, unconscious or stunned. Caleb grinned, "So, what else you got?"

Spike instantly slipped into gameface and lunged at the preacher. Caleb swatted the vampire down like he was nothing more than a minor nuisance, yet Spike felt as if he'd been hit by a wrecking ball. He scrambled back to his feet and struck Caleb with a desperate spin kick. Somewhat annoyed, Caleb punched Spike in the jaw, snapping the vampire's head back. Then he grabbed the half-dazed platinum blonde and threw him head-first into the nearest giant wine cask. The upper half of Spike's body crashed through the cask, then a tidal wave of red wine sent him rolling onto the floor.

The Bringers went back to fighting the Potentials. Caleb meandered through the battle, occasionally striking down one of the girls. He batted Kennedy into a stack of barrels, snapped Rona's arm like a dry twig, then he picked up a fallen knife and tossed it to one of the Bringers. As the Bringer went to finish Rona off, an arrow suddenly embedded itself into his wrist. Caleb's head turned in surprise to see the backup group had arrived. He beamed in delight. "Oh, good! There's more of you!"

Faith came at him, a knife in each hand. She sent the preacher staggering back a step with a hard kick to the solar plexus. The blades in her hands whirred with deadly speed, but Caleb's inhuman reflexes easily allowed him to dodge them. "Well, you're the other one, aren't you?" he declared, intrigued, "The Cain to her Abel? No offense meant to Cain, of course."

"Never was much for the good book," Faith snarled, lashing out with her knives.

Caleb grabbed her wrists, twisted them around each other until her numbed fingers could no longer hold on to the blades. The weapons fell from her grasp with a clatter.

"Oh, it has its moments," the preacher countered, "But overall, I find it a tad complicated." He knocked Faith to the floor with a vicious backhand. "I like to keep things simple." He kicked the downed Slayer in the stomach, sent her crashing into some nearby barrels. Faith fell in a cascade of splintered wood and spilled wine, groaning in pain.

"Good folk," Caleb continued, "bad folk."

A Potential swung her sword at him. He caught the blade with one hand, grabbed the girl's neck with the other. "Clean folk, dirty folk." With a hard twist, the girl's neck snapped. He let the body fall.

Molly watched the death of one of her friends in horror. "No!"

Caleb smiled beatifically. "Yes."

Buffy was starting to push herself up from the floor. She shakily looked around, saw more of the girls were getting hurt as they started to tire. If they didn't get away soon, they'd all be slaughtered. Xander hurried to crouch in front of her.

"Xander. Get them out of here," Buffy rasped, "We have to retreat."

Her friend nodded, helped her stand, then hurried off to sound the retreat.

Molly tried to fight back against the approaching preacher. She swung her short sword at him, but he caught it easily. The next thing she knew, there was a hand at her throat and her feet were lifted off the ground. Caleb twisted the sword from her grasp, turned it around so the blade faced her. "What can I say? I work in mysterious ways."

The blade plunged into Molly's body. A tiny gasp was all she managed to get out before the light vanished from her eyes and she went limp. Caleb dropped her corpse with an arrogant smirk. "Also some fairly straightforward ones."

Buffy had witnessed the whole thing. Enraged, she rushed at him. Her anger-fueled blows rained down on Caleb so fast, he didn't have time to react. Two powerful uppercuts in quick succession sent him flying across the room. Before Buffy could press her advantage, someone grabbed her arm. She spun around to find herself confronting a wine-soaked Spike.

"We are leaving," the vampire's tone brooked no argument. His grip still tight on her arm, he and Buffy started to follow the retreating Potentials.

Xander saw a half-conscious Kennedy trying to get to her feet and rushed to help her. As he sent her stumbling for the exit, something grabbed him and pinned him against the wall.

"You're the one who sees everything, aren't you?" Caleb observed the terrified man in curiosity. "Well, let's see what we can do about that." He raised a hand to Xander's face and drove his thumb into the man's left eye. Xander shrieked, blood pouring from his eyesocket.

Spike reacted to Xander's cries and cannoned into the preacher, knocking him away long enough for Spike and Buffy to half-carry Xander to safety. Spike looked over his shoulder as they hurried up the stairs and saw that Caleb had regained his feet, but made no move to chase after them. The preacher's face bore a satisfied smile. And why wouldn't he be smug? He'd single-handedly massacred them.

Their losses were devastating. Two girls dead, half of the survivors hospitalized, the rest bearing all manner of non-fatal wounds that needed to be tended to. None one of them came out of the battle unscathed.

But it was the blow to their psyches that was the worst. Whatever confidence they had in their abilities was shattered by Caleb and his Bringers. Worse, their confidence in Buffy was badly shaken. They doubted her leadership, doubted her ability to see them through this war alive. And Buffy felt the same way. She'd had her doubts before, but now a big part of her truly believed they had no hope of winning against the First. She'd failed the Potentials, the Scoobies, Spike. Their first real battle and they'd nearly all been slaughtered. What chance did any of them have?

Unable to face the girls' reproachful looks, Buffy left the house without a word and silently walked down the empty nighttime street. She had no destination in mind, just walked, arms crossed, her thoughts desolate.

Footsteps behind her. She knew who it was; she felt him.

Spike drew up beside her, hands stuffed in the pockets of his duster. He still smelled of stale wine, his white-blonde hair sticky and reddish-tinged. "It's not your fault, luv."

Buffy didn't dignify that with a response. It was her plan, her responsibility. It was her fault. Her friends had all advised against it. Even Spike had some reservations about it. But Buffy refused to listen. She'd let her impatience and frustration get the better of her and recklessly led them all straight into Caleb's blindingly obvious trap. God, she was such an idiot! And the girls and Xander had paid the price for her arrogance.

A light touch on her arm halted her steps. She reluctantly turned to face Spike's concerned gaze.

"Buffy—"

"I need..." she licked her lips, eyes lowered, "I need to be alone for a while."

Spike's blue eyes echoed her pain. "You're never alone."

And it was true. He was always with her, comforting her, sharing his strength with her. But she couldn't look at him right now. She couldn't look at anyone.

"Please, just...just go home," her voice held a faint quaver, "Get cleaned up. Help take care of the girls."

Spike gazed at her for a long moment, then finally nodded. He let her feel his love and unwavering support through the link as he reluctantly turned away and went back the way they'd come. Buffy continued on her lonely, aimless walk. The future seemed as bleak as the empty street ahead of her.