I was misinformed. Apparently, the characters belong to Erik Lehnsherr.

Xander awoke with a shock, falling to the floor. He lay on the floor in the sunshine for a few seconds, trying to figure out where his bed went, and why he was starting at a pair of white pumps. He was certain that he didn't own any. His thoughts were interrupted by a voice from on high.

"I thought you and Giles were going to stay up all night because of concussion-type problems."

Strangely, the voice from on high sounded just like Buffy. Who probably owned a pair of shoes just like the ones he was staring at. Xander blinked a few times and came up with a witty rejoinder: "Hwaz?"

"I guess you managed to stay up most of the night, at least. According to Willow, you don't forget how to use words unless you've had less than two hours of sleep. Come on, coffee's on, and mom's making lunch and criticizing the food you keep here. And she found your Twinkie stash. I know this house is large, but did you really need to fill an entire closet with them?"

"Zrmne. Cnhvm."

Buffy sighed in an overly dramatic fashion. "I was warned that it would come to this. My failure to get you moving leaves me no alternative." There was the crinkle of cellophane, and a bright plastic wrapper dropped into his view. Xander instinctively knew that this was important.

"Oh. No. I am losing my grip on this delicious snack cake. Whoops." Buffy deadpanned as she released the Twinkie. She didn't even see him move, but before the sugary confection hit the ground, Xander's hand shot out, grabbed the Twinkie and crammed it in his mouth. Chewing twice and then swallowing his favorite snack, Xander finally sat up and looked at Buffy.

"Why am I on the floor?"

"You were snoring in the chair over here, and fell out of it when I touched your shoulder."

"I don't snore. I breathe. In a manly way."

Buffy smiled at her Xander-shaped friend, happy to see he was still the same goofy guy deep down.

"Of course you don't. I must have been mistaken. When I hear what sounds like a chainsaw coming from a person, I naturally make assumptions. Silly Buffy." She looked down at him, trying not to laugh.

Xander struggled to his feet. "I think the Geneva Convention outlawed that level of sarcasm before morning coffee, so I will decline responding until after breakfast. But that doesn't mean you're right, or that I'm running away from this argument."

Buffy generously allowed for a cease-fire until they'd made their way back to the kitchen and Xander had gratefully received a steaming mug of coffee and a plate of eggs and hash browns. The two of them sat down as Joyce continued to cook, obviously expecting more company.

"So, what's the damage to the house? Serious? Are you going to be looking for a new place?"

Joyce shook her head. "No, new windows and carpets, some scrubbing and paint, replace a couch or two is all. Last night Cordelia mentioned that she knew some contractors who could get the work done quickly, and she'd give them a call this weekend. She'll have an estimate and a time-frame for us by noon on Monday. She really is a very considerate girl."

Buffy and Xander exchanged glances, having different words that they would use to describe Cordelia, but deferred due to Joyce's presence.

Buffy decided to change topic, to prevent Xander from saying something regretful in front of her mother. "So, how is everyone after last night's excitement? Will we need a hospital trip after all?"

"No, we're cool. Faith was the worst off, but gunshots were something we focused on in training. I shot her up with antibiotics and painkillers before putting her to bed, and with Slayer healing, she should be back on her feet by Monday, and patrolling again in a week."

"So, no long term effects?"

"They way Slayers heal? It wasn't worth me stitching either of you up. She'll probably have a bit of a scar, but ten days from now, she'll be doing flips and cartwheels like she'd never been hurt at all."

"I noticed the lack of stitches. Are you sure that superglue is approved by AMA?"

"Probably not, but it is tried and tested field medicine, dating back to Vietnam. I figured that I could either put you both through the pain of getting sewn up, or just put a dab of glue on you for a few days. Of course, if you insists, my sewing kit is just downstairs…"

"NO! I mean, I'm willing to trust you know what you're doing. You got trained for all of this, right?"

The retort died on Xander's lips as Oz walked into the kitchen. The currently blue-haired musician nodded as Joyce handed him a heaping plate of food, and passed both Xander and Buffy seconds.

As the safe house needed to be set for every available contingency, there was, of course, a cage for Oz in the basement. While he could control the wolf much better now due to his summer of meditation, he lost his control when injured, and there are other times that he could be unable to reign in the beast. But since they wouldn't always be available to get him out, he and Xander had designed the cage so Oz could open it, but the wolf couldn't. The door opened inwards, making it impossible to push open, and it locked with a combination lock, removing the need for keys.

Unlike Xander, Oz was a morning person. At least that was a theory. In practice, it was hard to tell if the taciturn werewolf perked up after a mug of coffee or not, given how reserved and expressionless he was most of the time. His night in wolf form seemed to have done the trick, as he was moving without holding his ribs.

Oz glanced over at Xander after finishing off his breakfast. "Need a hand with anything today?"

"Actually, yeah. We went through a lot of holy water paintball rounds last night, so I was planning on making a few hundred more. Mind if I go check on Faith while you set up?"

Oz nodded, and then looked over at Buffy with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh the thrills. Well, I had been planning on heading to that new shoe store for their sale, but how can I turn down the exciting life of paintball filling?"

Several hours later the entire Scoobie gang was gathered around the kitchen, just finishing off the steaks and potato salad that had been prepared for dinner. Faith was looking a little out of it, partially from her injury, and partially from the painkillers Xander had been giving her all day. Willow had shown up wearing a turtleneck, and Cordelia had a fashionable scarf, presumably to cover their bruises. Xander yawned every five minutes from lack of sleep, Buffy's arm was still bandaged, and Giles was slightly off-balance from the blow to the head he'd received, but everyone was looking well, considering what they'd been through the previous night.

Giles unsteadily took his feet. He looked around at his family, his children who had been hurt, and felt anger and pride. Anger that they had been injured, and at the injustice that forced teenagers to fight. Pride that they had done so well against so many, especially considering the lack of time they'd had to prepare.

"I wanted you all to know that the events of last night were quite extraordinary. Not the large gathering of vampires, though that is indeed less common, but the way you handled yourselves in such a crisis. I-I don't say this enough, but I'm very proud of you. Of-of all of you. You've all done so much, and have shown such strength of character. None of you hesitated to throw yourselves into the fight. You rushed to Buffy's rescue without a word of complaint, and of course, she rushed right back."

Giles paused to glance around the room. Buffy was smiling at her surrogate father, while Xander was looking down, unused to praise. Faith was looking away as well, either due to some hidden emotion or because the younger Slayer felt she didn't deserve this. Willow was beginning to blush, and Oz had his arm around her, showing as much emotion as usual. Cordelia tried to paste her standard smirk on her face, but a genuine smile was showing through. Joyce was looking back at him and nodding, agreeing with everything he was saying.

"I've spoken with the Watcher's council today. Both to inform them of the fall of Kakistos, and to discuss Faith." The dark haired Slayer hunched her shoulders in, apparently expecting to be kicked out of Sunnydale and put back on the road alone.

"I informed them of her cunning in luring him here so she and Buffy could work together against him, as well as her fighting prowess, and how she struck the final blow against him. They have decided that having two Slayers on the active Hellmouth is indeed a good idea, and she has been remanded to my care, leaving me as the first Watcher ever to have two Slayers to care for and train. Faith, assuming that you wish to stay, you have a choice to make. You are welcome to stay here, or to take the spare room at my flat. I've also spoken with Joyce, and she would be more than happy to have you move in with her. You will, of course, continue to train and patrol with the rest of us, and Willow will see about ordering you the same type of armor that Buffy has."

Throughout his talk, Faith had gone from seeming depressed and resigned to shocked, and then pulled a guarded mask back on, though her eyes seemed to be shining. Her fellow teens were giving her nods, smiles and thumbs up, so she let a cynical smile cross her face.

"Shit, G, I'd hate to have to move. All my stuff is here, and I'm still playing doctor with X, y'know? I guess I could stick around for a while, show alla ya how it's done."

Giles suppressed a chuckle over Xander's blush and gave a tight, British smile at Faith's statement.

"Very well then. Welcome to Sunnydale, Faith."

AN: yes, everything is shiny and happy. So far. But there will be character conflict. I promise. And it will come faster if you review.