A/N: I've recently had issues in life, my mother is quite ill. She's staying with me and i am caring for her while recuperating from my last surgery. Unfortunately this means not as quick updating. My apologies. I miss being able to sit quietly and just write.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Faith stood behind the bar and poured a shot of Jose Cuervo into a shot glass. She didn't bother putting the lid back on the bottle, knowing she'd be downing a few shots before the end of it.

"Hook us up, Bartender," a man's voice came from further down the bar.

Faith looked and saw a tall, stocky man wearing a Hawaiian shirt and another man in slacks and a button down dress shirt. Both men were attractive, but there was something about the man in the dress shirt that made her gut ache. She thought it might be the way he carefully observed everything around him. "What's yer poison?" she asked.

"Well, I normally stick with a good beer, but in times like this I think maybe a good Scotch or Whiskey?" Hawaiian Shirt asked.

"You too?" she asked Dress-Shirt and he nodded.

She pulled out two cognac glasses and filled them halfway with Scotch. Supposedly it was the good stuff that Giles really liked. She slid the glasses to the men and poured herself another shot of Cuervo. "You took Tommy to the infirmary?" she asked Hawaiian-shirt.

"I did," he told her. "I'm Sam, Sam Axe. This is Mike."

"Michael Weston," the other man introduced himself. "That was a good thing you did, stepping between the boy and his dad."

Faith shrugged. "I don't like bullies. I ain't gonna let some big Ass-Hat beat on some kids just 'cuz he donated sperm for their birth."

Michael took a big swallow of his Whiskey, while Sam smiled wryly. "You remind us of a friend we had. She didn't make it. Didn't know about the bites back then."

"I'm sorry for ya," she murmured. "We've all lost a lot because of the Initiative; the original Scoobies fought the original version or the Initiative, and now we're onto this knew group that went back into business. I guess overall we got lucky."

"What do ya mean?" Sam asked.

"You haven't noticed? Well, I guess probably not, if ya haven't been out there meetin' and talkin' to everyone. A lotta these people we been savin' and bringin' back here are some type of law enforcement; not military, but law enforcement and even some government law enforcement. We coulda been screwed… what if all we'd been findin' were criminals and convicts?" She took another shot of the tequila.

"Maybe you should cut back on that," Sam mentioned.

Faith smirked. "Just part of my slayer package. We don't get drunk so easy."

"Jose Cuervo, you are a friend of mine!" Buffy's bright voice came from the open doorway of the hotel bar. She moved into the room and hopped onto a stool next to Sam. Faith scooted a full shot glass in front of the blonde who knocked it back quickly. "Next supply run, lemons and limes," she muttered and had Faith shaking her head in agreement. "I heard about Karofsky," this time Buffy's words were gentle. She knew what Faith had been through in her younger life.

Nothin' to it, B," the brunette wouldn't meet her eyes.

Buffy reached out and clasped Faith's hands. "I can always tell when one of my sisters is lying."

"You know how I feel about bullies… alive or undead. Worse than that, he reminded me of one of my Ma's men, maybe even several of 'em," Faith twirled her shot glass not meeting the blonde's eyes.

"Those men are long gone and if one were to ever show up now, I would take care of every single one of them Faith," Buffy reached across, stopping Faith's hand on the glass. "I'm having Wills watch him; because I don't condone children being beaten." Buffy turned her attention to the two men. "Miami, right?"

"Good memory, I'm Michael Weston, this is Sam Axe."

"I watched you shoot… military?"

The way she said the word military was almost like it left a dirty taste in her mouth. "Once upon a time… Sam was a Navy Seal. I'm former Intelligence for one of those Alphabet Agencies that doesn't give out their part of the Alphabet."

Buffy smirked, "Not like it matters much now. It seems like everyone's job description's changed except for mine and Faith's."

"And Boy-Toy's… he can still build and fix shit. Sam here was giving me Boy-Toy flashbacks with the shirt."

Buffy grinned, "Those were the days; Xander in his tasteless attire bringing in the jelly donuts. Goddess, back then he was all pudgy and squishy too. Oh, sort of reminds me, the tree elves, no that isn't right, the house elves are building a huge wrought iron gate, the same as in front of the building, around the back so we don't have to worry about nasties getting in."

"They can do that?" Sam asked.

Buffy shrugged, "Mopsy said so. Of course that means I'm taking the word of something that resembles a two foot hairless woodland creature with huge eyes, and has an ingrained masochistic streak from the Hells."

Sam looked at Michael. "Remember when life was simple and we were just trying to get you unburned or stopping drug smugglers…"

Buffy chuckled as she left the bar. She was almost to the foyer when her enhanced hearing picked up a faint whine. She stopped where she was and listened very carefully. It was crying and it was coming from the closet with the shuttered door. Buffy opened the door carefully, and looked down to find a small child, maybe four years old, sitting, rocking back and forth, trying to stifle his cries. Buffy crouched down and looked in dark eyes. "Hey there," she spoke softly.

He was very frightened and didn't speak.

"You okay?"

To this he shook his head no.

"Well, that's no good. I want everyone here to be okay. It's important to me. Did someone hurt you?"

Now he gulped, but he nodded and more tears spilled.

"Would you like me to hug you and try to make the pain go away?"

The boy was in her arms like a shot, his little arms and legs wrapped around her as strong as he could. Buffy felt something welling up inside of her at the feeling. "Will you tell me what happened now?"

"Big man yelling at everybody and he hurt two boys, then he walked by and grabbed my arm and throwed me into the wall. It hurts. I don't have a mama no more, and I don't know where daddy is? Alls alones," he started crying again. "I'm all alone."

"You're not all alone, siily boy. I'm here. I'm Buffy. And we can find your Daddy." Buffy began walking and as she walked she ran through all of her rescues trying to remember everyone with children, small children. DC had a few children, and she knew that the hospital Faith went to had one or two kids… then she remembered. The little boy belonged to Aaron Hotchner; tall, dark and broodingly handsome. "Is your daddy, Aaron?"

He kept his face in her neck but nodded. "He's a superhero," the boy muffled into her neck. Now as she drew closer she heard the frantic cries of the name Jack. She turned the corner and found a panicked Aaron who looked like a demon was about to eat his bits and pieces, as Spike would have said. She saw the moment he relaxed upon seeing his son in her arms, and she couldn't even begin to describe what that did to her knowing someone trusted her like that.

"Hey, silly Jack," she whispered. "Turn around and look at your surprise?"

He did and he squealed with relieved happiness that only a child could have. He threw himself at his daddy, and she made sure he got there. Screaming was still going on and she followed the sound to where Fred Karofsky stood at the front door.

"I said I'm leaving!"

Willow had her arms across her chest, and Rachel, Puck, Finn, Rona and Shahara stood between the enraged man and his children. Buffy walked slowly now that her arms were empty. She looked at him coldly. "It doesn't appear as if we're stopping you from leaving Mr. Karofsky. In fact, if you have a specific destination in mind, Willow will send you there. Quick and cheap."

"My boys are comin' with me," he growled.

"Ah, is that the problem? I can rectify that. No, they're not. End of discussion."

"Those two boys is mine! I own 'em!"

"Mr. Karofsky I can honestly say the only thing you own right now are the clothes you're wearing. You don't own people," now her voice burned darkly, and her hands moved down to rest at her sides in a relaxed stance. "You don't hurt people. You don't hurt children; not your own, not someone else's. And you will not hurt one more person in this safe haven that I have vowed to protect. You want to leave our sanctuary, fine, I'm good with that actually, because looking at you makes me physically ill, but when you leave it'll be without those kids. And if you wanna fight someone to try to prove a point then I'm the girl you'll fight. And I'm the girl who'll kick your ass all the way back to Ohio."

The big man growled and stalked forward throwing a punch. Buffy let his fist hit her, not even flinching at the hit. She hadn't moved a centimeter and that made him angry. He swung a second time, this time aiming for her side, and she didn't let that blow hit. Instead she caught his hand, swinging his body as she spun, slamming him into the floor with his arm pinned high behind his back. "Do not press your luck. You do not want to see or learn what a slayer can do to a regular person. You'd be like an ant under my boot-heel," she snarled. Now she felt him shaking with fear and her inner slayer liked that. "Now, where do you wish to go? By. Your. Self."

"Send me to 224 Wavecrest Houston Texas," he muttered, finally losing steam.

She was up and five feet away from him within the blink of an eye and she looked at her best friend with cold, green eyes, "Wills, send him." Buffy turned back to Karofsky who had moved into sitting position. Buffy moved to the wall, took a sword off the wall, and walked over, dropping it onto his lap. "May the Gods be with you, Mr. Karofsky." She walked away as Willow chanted and Fred Karofsky disappeared.

After his father had disappeared and he'd gotten over his shock, Dave Karofsky approached Quinn, who stood back out of the way. "Why?" he asked.

"Why what?" her gaze barely flickered on him.

"Why are they standing up for me?"

Quinn looked more closely at Dave and saw he truly didn't know. "Because that's who they are now. Well, it's always been who Rachel is; maybe Finn too. You took the time to make a truce with us. They're not going to let some asshole that beats you and your brother to have even one second alone with you. They're going to protect you. I would help too, if I knew what the hell I was doing with my magic, but so far… not the best control."

Dave listened to her words and let them process. "Thank you Quinn. I'll have to thank them too."

"Oh, and I think Shahara has a crush on Tommy, but we can't really tell since we don't speak her language." The two teens looked over to see the lovely mocha skinned child babbling at Tommy Karofsky in her language and trying to hand him a finely crafted stake.

"Quinn!" the shout came from Brittany who was moving quickly through the foyer dragging Marcus Flint behind her. Quinn thought it was the first time she'd ever seen the boy without a scowl on his face. Now he just looked bewildered and completely shocked to find himself where he was. "Oh, good, Rachel and Mercedes are here too! Look guys, Marcus gave me the coolest manicure ever! My fingers and toes match and they've even got art on them."

Theo Knott and Adrian Pucey approached from the sight. "You've done it now," Pucey whispered. "That bird'll have ya doin' all her mates nails."

"At least I got to snog her," Marcus smirked at the two boys before moving closer to Brittany.

Temperance felt like she'd been searching for Booth for hours. Normally she found she wasn't so impatient, but over the past few days, when everything in her life had begun crumbling and things that should not be possible had shown themselves as reality. She finally found him on the roof. "Booth… what are you doing out here?"

He looked over at her for a moment before turning his attention back to the night and the gates. "I signed up to take a watch; keep an eye on the gates."

"We've barely talked since this whole thing began… I feel like perhaps you're avoiding me," she told him.

"I'm not avoiding you, Bones," he told her, smiling over his shoulder.

"Then, why haven't you been talking to me?"

"I've just been thinking, Bones. That's all. We got really lucky and I'm just thinking about how it could have gone. I keep thinking about what could have happened. I could have lost everything. I could've lost Parker. Do you realize how lucky we were? How many FBI agents we lost… How many employees of the Jeffersonian we lost, but we, the people who mattered to us, and my son, we made it. We were rescued." Tears had formed and a lump clogged Booth's throat.

Bones couldn't help her own tears as she listened to him and saw how affected he was. "Booth," she started and took a step forward, reaching down and taking his hands into hers. "You remember that night after we left Sweets office and you wanted to gamble, you wanted to take that risk with our relationship… and I said no, we couldn't, because I was scared… I was too scared… I'm not scared any more Booth. I want to take a risk… I want to learn to gamble."

Seeley looked down at Bones and saw the fear in her big blue eyes, "It's not a risk when you know the outcome, Bones."

"I don't understand," her forehead crinkled in her confusion.

"It means it's not a gamble when it's a sure thing… We're a sure thing, Bones. We're not taking a risk."

Tim McGee left the infirmary after making sure they last of the injured, Hannah Abbott, had been healed fully. Between Sarah, Marco, and him, they'd been able to take care of the Wizard kids, and then two other Healers had come forward; Martha Rodgers, an actress that Tim remembered seeing in a few movies and shows, and Jack Hodgins who worked at the Jeffersonian, was independently wealthy and had a few PhDs.

He was filthy, starving and exhausted, and not necessarily in that order. Tim didn't even know what he wanted to do first. He decided to grab a shower and then sleep; food could wait.

Tim didn't even bother waiting for the elevator instead heading directly to the stairs and moved up the few flights, eating up most of his energy reserve. He moved through his room quickly not even worrying about getting out a change of clothing, figuring he'd grab them after the shower. He spent a good twenty minutes in the shower, glorying in the fact that Willow's magic meant they wouldn't run out of hot water. After he dried off, he wrapped the towel around his waist and headed for his bed. He chuckled as he realized he hadn't turned on the lights.

"Were you ever going to tell me you loved me?"

Later Tim would say he'd let out a very manly shriek as he turned to face the intruder and keep hold of the towel around his middle.

The lights next to the bed flicked on, illuminating Abby, who sat on the edge of the bed in a very short, very sheer, very strappy black… thing. "Are those garters?" he asked, his brain not functioning properly, nor his voice since his question sounded quite froggy.

She stood, and by all that was holy yes they were garters, her hands on her hips, her hair in braided pigtails and moved towards him. Even though this was the beginning of one of his very hidden, very secret fantasies, Tim found himself stepping back, away from her.

"I… I…"

"Yes, Timothy?" she arched a brow.

He sighed. "No, I probably wouldn't have," he admitted.

"McGee?" Abby's voice was full of shock.

"Do you remember when that guy tried to kill you because he thought you were Amy, the character in my book?" he asked, and continued once she'd nodded. "You told me, told me that night that I couldn't put Amy with the main character, that they didn't belong together. I guess I've just always thought that's how you looked at us, too. That we weren't meant to be together. I tried to move on. I knew you'd moved on. But it never changed the fact that I loved you."

"So, why'd you tell me?" she whispered.

"Abby, we were going to another reality, a dangerous one. I was going to war, no matter how much they promise protection the chances for death are always there. If there was a chance I wasn't coming back then I wasn't going without telling you how I felt about you."

"That's fair," she spoke slowly, "but you didn't stick around to let me tell you how I felt."

Now he looked down and didn't meet her eyes. "I guess I was okay with facing death, but I couldn't face the probability of not loving me back."

Abby stepped right up to him, Tim's back against the wall. "Oh, Tim. For one of the smartest men I know, you can also be one of the stupidest." She pressed her lips against his, and they moved their chaste kiss into one that would have steamed up any window. She pulled away and smiled. "I love you, Timothy McGee. I would say I'm sorry it took us so long to get here, but… I'm just glad we got here."