by Rob Sorenson

*****************Late May, 2005....Sunnydale,CA*********************

Faith Harris groaned and rubbed her eyes as the negative side of her enhanced hearing reared its ugly head.

The world better be ending. If it isn't, someone's gettin' their ass kicked.

She rolled out of the brass bed Xander had bought six months before and sleepily stumbled toward the stairs before regaining enough consciousness to remember the bedside phone. The brunette Slayer had simply ripped the cord out of its socket before collapsing into bed the night before. Still, the kitchen phone's high-pitched tones jerked her out of a fitful slumber.

Truth be told, Faith had never really slept soundly for many years...until everything had changed eleven and a half months before.

Now her only problem was having to sleep alone three nights a week.

She padded barefoot to the wall behind the end table and leaned over with a grunt to replace the jack. The moment she reattached the cord to the wall, the phone-now merely inches from her ear-screamed yet again. She winced at the sound and snatched up the receiver.

"Yeah?"

(Aren't you up yet?)

"We've been over this before, Summers. What does the clock on the wall say?"

A sigh was audible before she heard a response.

(Nine forty-five.)

"Exactamundo. When is it ok to call Faith? Come on, you're a great student, or so I'm told."

(Ummm....ten?)

"No, but thanks for playing. When the little hand is on the twelve, then you might be safe to call me. Otherwise, someone better be injured or dying. Got it?"

(Come on. It's not even that early. I've been here for almost two hours. Why can't you go to bed at midnight like a normal
person?)

"Apparently you've forgotten that this bunch left normal behind about ten exits back."

(It's Wednesday, Faith. What reason could you have for going to bed so late?)

"Not that it's any of your business, but I was patrolling."

She heard laughter over the phone.

(Yeah, patrolling at TGI Fridays. I already talked to Spike this morning. He saw you.)

"Is it possible to have a private life in this town?"

(Nope.)

"All right, fine. There was nothing to stake, and no one to...have an intense conversation with, so I had a couple of beers. That ok with you, Miss Dean's List?"

(You are SO busted.)

"I'll come over there and bust YOU in a minute. In case you didn't know, this is my day off, ok?"

(I know. I'm sorry I woke you up.)

Faith frowned at Dawn's tone, deciding to put the jokes aside.

"Yeah, well, I'm up now. So what's the what?"

(I was wondering if we could talk. Privately.)

"Well, we're talking right now. Unless Andrew went bad again without me knowing, nobody can hear you but me."

(I'd rather talk to you in person, if that's ok. Could you come into the office?)

"Dawnie, is everything all right?"

(Oh, yeah, I'm ok...things are pretty cool, actually. I didn't mean to give you the wrong idea. There's some personal stuff going on, that's all. I need your opinion.)

Faith shrugged. "Ok, sure. Gimme an hour to wake up."

(Thanks.)

**************Los Angeles, CA. same time****************

"Terry, this is a simple yes or no question. Will we have the stuff by noon, or not? Right now we're at a standstill."

Xander was pacing inside the HarrisBerg Construction double-wide trailer, cell phone in hand. His frown deepened as he heard his supplier's response.

"Next week's not going to get it done. C'mon, man, I need this stuff. We're going to get behind otherwise."

He sat heavily in the leather office chair that faced the desk in the rear of the makeshift headquarters, rubbing his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids. The voice on the other end of the phone was still speaking, but he'd tuned it out. It would only be more of the same. He reopened his eyes, now staring at the bulletin board directly above. At last Xander sighed heavily and nodded to himself as the man finished.

"Ok. If you can't, you can't. We'll see if we can work around it."

More chatter, now apologetic rather than defensive.

"I know you would, man. You can't help it if people go on vacation, right? Like I said, we'll work around it somehow. I gotta run. Talk to you next week, ok? Yeah...you too."

He hung up the phone and leaned back, fingers now interlaced behind his head. Closing his eyes to concentrate, he spoke aloud.

"Wills?"

<What's up?>

"Where are you?"

<West side. I love how the mezzanine is turning out.>

"Yeah, I'm liking that too. Just got off the phone with Terry. No i-beams until next Tuesday."

<Ah, that explains the tone of your voice. Do I need to remind you-->

"Not to stress myself because we're two months ahead, I know. I can't help it."

<Are we at a total standstill without them?>

"Not completely, but I wanted the side you're looking at finished by the weekend. At this point that's impossible."

<We'll get there, Xand. Look, I have an idea. Promise me you won't bite my head off.>

"I'm getting hungry, but not that hungry. Shoot."

<Why don't we shut it down after today?>

"What?! Are you kidding?"

<That sounded mysteriously similar to what I asked you NOT to do, Xander Harris.>

"Will...look, I'm sorry I snapped at you. I just...we can't afford to slack here."

<This isn't slacking. It's giving everyone some well-deserved time off...especially you. When's the last time you spent two days in a row away from work?>

"I'm only here three days a week."

<Right. Then we go home and you're in the office four days a week talking to the site on the phone. We're doing great, Xander. Give yourself a break.>

He looked around the desk that Dawn had taken as her own during the school year. The bulletin board held tacked pictures of every member of his family, most of whom he didn't see as often as he would have liked. It seemed like there was always something to do...

<Still with me?>

"Sorry. I was just thinking I miss the Dawnster being here in the afternoons."

"She's not that far away, Xand. In fact she's probably doing her nails in our office in Sunnydale as we speak. All the more reason you should take a few days off."

"So I can catch her doing her nails?"

"You know what I meant."

"Why am I not hearing an echo in my head when you talk?"

"Because I'm standing right behind you."

He whirled in his chair. His best friend stood just ten feet away, looking positively adorable in Oshkosh overalls and a yellow hard hat.

"How the Hell did you do that?!"

Willow's eyes sparkled.

"I've been working on short-distance teleportation with no flash...in case we ever need to sneak up on someone."

"It worked. I don't need a heart attack to go with my ulcer, ok?"

The Wiccan's eyes narrowed.

"You have an ulcer?"

"Motor down, Wills. Kidding."

"That's not funny. You really are working too hard."

"Has anyone ever told you how cute you are in a hard hat? You're even cuter than Buffy and Dawn when they wear it."

"Don't change the subject. Are you shutting down for the week and getting some rest or do I have to hurt you?"

"Look, I could give the crew some time. God knows they deserve it, but I--"

"Xander...Buffy and Spike haven't seen you in three weeks. They miss you. If I can make time to see them, so can you."

He shook his head at that.

"In case you haven't noticed, your part of this is a lot less time consuming. Those of us who aren't geniuses have to work that much harder to keep up."

"Save it. If you worked normal hours we'd still be ahead."

"Not as far."

"Ok, I admit that. Still, wouldn't one month ahead of schedule be enough? It used to be."

"That was before."

"Before what?"

"Just forget it."

"Xander--"

His voice was soft.

"I wanna drop it. Ok?"

She looked at him for a moment before speaking.

"You've never had a real honeymoon with your wife. You know that, right?"

"What do you mean? We were at Disney World, for Christ's sake."

"You were already there. It was part of our job. That's not the same and you know it."

He sighed again. It seemed like he'd been doing a lot of that lately.

"Yeah. Our anniversary is coming up, you know."

"I'd be willing to bet she knows that too."

"I wish she'd come with me to L.A. I miss her when I'm here."

"I know you do. I also know that she wishes you were home more, and I don't just mean in Sunnydale. I mean in your own house with her. You built it for both of you, but she spends most of her time in there by herself."

He nodded to himself. "You're right. I've been too caught up in this."

Her eyes brightened. "So we shut down after today, right?"

He stood up and removed his hard hat, tossing it on the desk.

"I'll do you one better. Let's shut this puppy down at lunch time."

Willow walked over and threw her arms around him.

"That's my Xander."

He smiled and kissed her cheek. "I need to run over to the hotel and let Angel know what's going on."

"You might hit traffic."

He checked his watch. "I doubt it would be too bad at this time of--"

He blinked, momentarily feeling a sense of dizziness. He quickly rotated his head from side to side.

"What the Hell was that?"

Charles Gunn was pointing a crossbow directly at his chest.

"I was thinking the same exact thing."

"Gunn, don't point that thing...at....me..."

Xander looked around, suddenly aware where he was as Gunn responded.

"Gotta forgive me, boss man. When stuff pops out of nowhere into this lobby, I get a 'shoot first ask questions later' vibe going. Usually works."

He lowered his weapon and grinned.

"You in a hurry today?"

"No...but apparently someone is."

**************************************************

"Hey, kid."

Dawn smiled. She'd gotten over her annoyance with the term, deciding that she might like being called kid when she was 39 and everyone else was 45 or so.

"Hey, Mrs. Harris. Thanks for coming."

Faith always grinned like a fool whenever anyone called her that. Damn kid's too smart for her own good.

"No problem. Not like I had anything else to do, right?"

Dawn's face held a sympathetic expression.

"He misses you whenever he goes out of town. You know that, right?"

The Slayer looked down to the floor for a moment.

"Yeah. Don't tell anybody this, but it sucks when he's not around."

"It's supposed to suck. He's your husband."

"Yeah, whatever. Enough about me. What's up with getting me to come over here at the crack of dawn?"

"It's 11 o'clock, Faith."

"And your point is?"

They shared a grin as Dawn took a deep breath.

"I need you to promise me no one else hears about this."

"Cool."

"I'm serious. Even Xander."

"Dawn, I can tell by the look on your face that you're serious. I say again...cool. Assuming, of course, that this isn't something that has to do with Xand foolin' around."

The youngest Summers's eyes widened. "No, no. God, of course not. Xander would absolutely never do that. He adores you."

"I was playing, Dawn. My man doesn't have the energy to cheat on me."

"He does work awfully hard."

"Not what I meant, girlfriend."

"Huh? Oh." Dawn blushed slightly and smiled. "I thought maybe you were a little worried since he spends so much time away."

"We talk on the phone every night."

"Well, naturally."

"Remember what I said before about intense conversations?"

"Oh. I thought you were just being coy about..."

Faith looked at her with a devilish grin as Dawn put it together.

"Oh. Wow."

"There's a lot of things in this world I worry about, Dawn, but my husband being a good boy ain't one of 'em. THAT I can handle."

"Ummm....since we're on that subject.."

Dawn trailed off, blushing furiously now. Faith couldn't help but laugh as she eagerly grabbed a chair and straddled it, chest leaning against the back.

"It's just you and me, honey. You got me curious now. Come on, dish."

Dawn cleared her throat. "Ok, here's the deal. There's this guy--"

"Always a good start if you wanna get your groove on."

The Key stared at her in annoyance. Faith looked sheepish.

"Sorry. You were saying?"

"There's this guy that I've been...dating, sort of."

"Sort of as in..."

"Well, it started with me going to his place for dinner and study help with Freshman English. He's really, really smart, so--"

"Hold up. He's got his own place? How old is this tutor you wanna boogie down with?"

Dawn wrinkled her nose. "Boogie down? Isn't that a little 70's?"

"I like to go retro-cool sometimes. You're avoiding the question."

There was a moment's hesitation before she answered.

"He's nine years older than me."

Faith nodded. "Oh, ok. Cool."

"That's it? Just...cool?"

"Nine years is no big, Dawnie. For a minute there I was picturing you humpin' up against the Quaker Oats guy or something."

"What?"

"It's the old cliche. Sixty year old prof takes advantage of the situation. That kinda thing."

"Ok, first of all, that's gross. Secondly, do you honestly think any man could take advantage of me?"

Faith couldn't help but smile at that. Dawn had grown to 5'9" during her 18th year of life (which was actually her fifth, of course), and her relentless training regimen had gradually transformed the gawky teenager into a formidable woman. Her sleeveless top revealed the gentle slope of well-toned biceps; long legs rippled with definition whenever she walked. If there was any fat on Dawn's 140 pound frame, Faith couldn't see it.

No...if any normal human male tried anything funny, Dawn would most certainly be the one laughing when all was said and done.

"Anyway, like I said, nine years is not all that big a deal. You're both adults."

"Right. As I was saying, he was a lot of help with studying...but the truth is I didn't really need it all that much. I just wanted to be close to him. He's really nice, Faith. Plus he's smart, and thoughtful--"

"You mentioned the smart part already. Get to the good stuff. Is he hot?"

"Oh yeah. The prettiest blue eyes, that accent..." Dawn trailed off. Faith waved her hands in front of her eyes.

"Ok, back to me for a second. The mental undressing can wait till we're done."

"Sorry. I've been thinking about him constantly."

"I can see that. So...have you guys fooled around?"

Dawn looked down and shrugged in embarrassment.

"We've kissed a few times...that's all."

"And you want more?"

Dawn simply nodded.

"Have you made a move?"

"I've had to initiate everything. I mean, he clearly WANTS to...I can tell. You know."

Again she blushed slightly at Faith's grin.

"And kissing him is all you've done?"

"Well...I was sort of hoping he'd pick up what I wanted and kinda take over from there."

"Has any other guy you've dated been this shy?"

"Ummm....actually..."

Faith looked at her in disbelief.

"Dawn, you've never really had a steady boyfriend before, have you?"

"No."

"So...knowing you like I do, that means you haven't.."

Dawn said nothing.

"Huh. Damn. Considering how you look, this must be some kinda record."

"There was never time for any kind of relationship before. Something majorly bad was always happening."

"If B managed to hit a homer as a high-schooler, I think you could've too, babe. Still, it's totally cool. There's no law that says you have to lose your virginity in the back of a Taurus."

"Thanks. I guess. Were Buffy and Angel really in the back of a--"

"Just an expression. Back to this dude...does he ever take you anywhere or is he just a fake study buddy?"

"Well, he has a job with funky hours. Things can get a little unpredictable for him...but we've been out to dinner and a movie a few times. I usually had classes in the morning. Plus work, of course...so there wasn't a lot of free time for either of us."

Faith folded her arms and leaned back slightly in her chair. "Ok, let's break it down. He's a little older than you...so I'd guess he's been some places you haven't. You know what I'm sayin', right?"

"You mean..."

"Yes, Dawn. I mean THE SEX. It's ok to say it, you know. Sex, sex ,sex, sex...."

"I got it."

"Good. Now, back to my point...you figured if you gave him an appetizer he'd just move on to the main course without your help because he's had a few meals before. That pretty much it?"

"That covers it...mostly."

"I think the problem is shyness from both of you. Since he's a little older it might be making him uncomfortable. In my opinion it's gonna be up to you to get a little more aggressive."

"I don't know how."

"Just do what you want. He'll get the picture. More importantly, if he's as nice a guy as you say, he'll be gentle. You're lucky. Most girls wind up with some boy who has no clue he's hurting you."

Faith's eyes turned dark for a moment. Dawn frowned with concern, but before she could say anything the Slayer waved her off and spoke abruptly.

"Not worth getting into. It was a long time ago. What does mystery man do for a living?"

Dawn took a deep breath before answering in a small voice.

"Actually, you know him."

The Slayer stiffened. "He knows who I am?"

"Yes."

"You're sure he talks about me?"

"Of course. We both do. Look, I understand that it's a little freaky, but--"

"Dawn, I want you to listen to me for a second. Seriously. Ok?"

"Ok."

"How much do you know about my time growing up in LA?"

"Well...I know it was hard for you."

"Specifically, Dawnie. The stuff I had to do to live. You know about that, right?"

Dawn closed her eyes, shuddering inwardly. "Yes."

"I'm not judging you--God knows I have no room to do that--but if any man in that town knows who I am, he's not the kinda guy you should be with. I'm sorry to be so harsh, but that's the plain truth."

The Key's eyes widened in recognition. "OH! You mean...no, no. It's not like that. This is someone you've known more recently."

Faith tilted her head in confusion as she spoke aloud to herself.

"O...kay. Someone in LA who I've known recently. He's a smart, blue eyed 28 year old who's got weird hours and holy shit, you're dating Wesley aren't you?!"

Again, Dawn said nothing. Faith's mouth was hanging open in shock.

"Holy shit. You wanna boink Wes."

"Couldn't you put that in a more romantic--"

"Holy shit."

"Faith...your record is skipping."

"Holy sh..sorry. I'm just kinda...wow. When did this happen?"

"We started noticing each other at Disney World. When I got accepted to UCLA...things just sort of grew from there."

Faith was speechless. Dawn leaned toward her. "Faith? Are you freaking out?"

"No." Catching Dawn's doubtful expression, the Slayer leaned toward her.

"Not freaking out here. Dawn, everything I said before is still true. The age difference means nothing, it's just...it's Wes, you know?"

"Yeah. Believe me, I know."

"Starting to see why you came to me with this."

Dawn sighed. "I love them all so much, Faith. I mean, I love you too. You know that right?"

"Backatcha, kid. I know what you're sayin'. They're pretty protective of you."

"Right. Things are slowly getting better...I think everyone is finally starting to see who I am now instead of a little girl...but this
particular subject is still going to be tough for them. That's why it's so important that you tell no one."

Faith spoke gently. "You do realize keeping it a secret might be worse? Everyone's gonna find out eventually--and I've never kept anything like this from Xand before."

Dawn's eyes widened with alarm. "Faith, you promised!"

"Down girl. I won't tell anyone. You should, though. The sooner you get it out of the way, the sooner they'll realize you're a mature woman who can do as she pleases."

"Faith, put yourself in my place. If I came to Buffy with this, what would she do?"

"Well, B would..." Faith hesitated. "Ok, she'd freak."

"How about Spike or Xander?"

Faith didn't answer verbally. She simply winced. Dawn threw her hands up in the air.

"Exactly. Even though they have absolutely no room to talk."

"I wish I could help you more, hon. I just don't think there's gonna be an easy way. The only thing I know for sure is this: it's better they hear it from you."

"I know that. It's just going to take some time."

"Ok, well...back to what we were talking about before. Knowing Wes, you're gonna have to make it even more obvious than I thought. He's gotta be nervous being involved with you at all."

"Yeah. He is. Plus there's..."

"There's what?"

Dawn folded her arms and squinted.

"It's not a what, it's a who."

Faith knew that look. "Ah. The female sort of who?"

"There's this lawyer bee-yotch that he had a thing with. She keeps coming around offering him stuff."

"By stuff, do you mean..."

Dawn looked at her shoes. "Stuff I don't know how to give him. She's like, way older than me."

"Are you in love with him?"

Dawn responded without hesitating, meeting Faith's eyes as she spoke.

"Yes."

"Has he told you how he feels?"

"No, but I think it's because he's scared. Wes is in love with me, too. I feel it."

"In that case, you're ready for the secret."

"The secret?"

"Yup. That's what this boils down to, right? You're worried about pleasing him, so you came to Doctor Faith?"

Dawn just nodded, now blushing furiously. Faith looked hard at her.

"Ok. Pay attention, 'cause this won't take long. The secret to really great sex is trust."

Dawn waited for more, but Faith was silent.

"Ummm...is that it?"

"Uh-huh."

"Trust?"

"Yup."

"Do I have to give you money to get a little more detail...or snatch a pebble from your hand or something?"

"Save your pennies, Grasshopper. Lemme give you an example."

Faith got up from her chair and walked over to the water cooler, grabbing a cone-shaped cup as she spoke.

"I've had a ton of sex, Dawn. Lots of different people in lots of different ways. Used to be my job. I learned pretty young how to do things guys liked. Helped me keep a roof over my head and food in my stomach every once in a while. Stuff guys liked didn't exactly do shit for me, of course, but that wasn't the point. It was work. You with me so far?" Dawn was grimacing as Faith took a swig of water. "I'm sor--"

"Hey. This is old news, girl. Just makin' a point here. When I got called as a Slayer, things changed a little. Power went to my side, and I decided it was Momma's turn to get a little satisfaction. I did the same kinda shit to men that they'd done to me. I had it all figured out. Then, after a little hiccup that caused me to be a guest of the state of Cali for a while, I hooked up with Xand."

She crumpled up the plastic cup and tossed it backhanded into the garbage as she resumed her seat, smiling now.

"You're a student, right? Let's review. First I get taken advantage of, then I get myself a little payback. What do you think might have been missing?"

"Trust."

"Two points for you. I didn't have a clue what it meant to trust anyone. Not just when it came to sex...but in anything. I was surprised how good it felt to have people around that depended on you...it was nice. Biggest shock came from Xander, though. If there was one thing in life I felt like I was an expert in, it was mattress boogie, right?"

"But it wasn't making love before."

"Well...yeah, if you wanna get all Hallmark about it. There are times when it's soft and sweet, and that's all fine and dandy...but sex is all about how much you trust someone with the stuff you don't want anyone to know."

"Secrets?"

"Yeah. Didja ever notice how sexy that word is? Those certain words have a special meaning when you talk about sex. Secret. Private. Intimacy. Too many women look at that as just the soft and sweet stuff...but there's more. TONS more. If you really trust your man, you can let it all hang out. Every fantasy 'good girls' aren't supposed to have. Scarves and leather. Handcuffs and lace. Chocolate syrup. Ice cubes and feathers. All of it. All the stuff you can't show anyone unless..."

Faith pointed to Dawn. The former littlest Summers appeared slightly dazed as she responded.

"You trust them."

"Completely and absolutely. If you didn't trust 'em, you couldn't let the animal loose, and everyone--EVERYONE--has that inside themselves. I can tell by the look on your face that you're thinking about it right now. It's un-freaking-real, Dawn. It's not about how big anyone is or all the fancy moves they've got...people learn that stuff with experience."

Faith leaned in close, eyes bright.

"It's about how special it feels when the person you're with is sharing something from deep inside that no one else has ever seen. That is so hot I can't even begin to describe it. Those words again. Private. Secret. Intimate. I get turned on every time Xander tells me he trusts me out loud. More than I ever thought possible. THAT's why Xander is the best I've ever had. I trust him with my life...and he trusts me. What we do together behind closed doors is just for us. All of you have known him longer...but there's a side of him that's all mine. Because we trust each other."

"So if I make a move on Wes, I need to do what, exactly?"

"Trust him enough to do whatever makes you feel good, and encourage him to trust you."

"It's that simple? Really?"

Faith smiled slyly. "Trust me."

Dawn grinned back. "That good, huh?"

"Lemme put it this way. Take the best orgasm you've ever given yourself and multiply it by ten."

"Are you serious?"

Faith simply stared back at Dawn. The Key suddenly felt the need to get a drink of water of her own.

"All right. So let's set a date."

Dawn frowned in confusion. "A date?"

"Yeah. When do you see him next?"

"Assuming nothing drastic happens in L.A., probably this weekend."

"You're going down there?"

"No. He's coming here."

Faith clapped her hands together.

"All right! Dawnie 1, Lawyer Chick 0."

Dawn shrugged. "If it were just to see me, I'd agree with you."

"Why else would he come here?"

"You haven't heard? Buffy and Spike are hosting a barbecue this weekend."

Faith's eyes widened. "You gotta be shittin' me."

Dawn couldn't stop herself from laughing.

"Nope. She says it's been too long since we've all seen each other."

"Well, yeah...but that's not necessarily a bad thing. When we all see each other, it eventually friggin hurts."

"I think that's the point. She wants happier get togethers. It seems like our only 'family' time is during a crisis."

"I get that, but...just havin' a tough time picturing Spike flippin' burgers from under his blankie."

"That does sound like a fire hazard."

They shared a chuckle before Dawn looked slightly uncomfortable.

"Actually, Buffy had a more qualified person in mind to work the grill...but she hasn't spoken to him in almost a month. He got his invitation through Willow. i sort of assumed..."

Faith sighed. "That he'd tell me about it? Yeah, well...whatever downtime Xand allows himself is with me...but trust me, that ain't much. Since you brought it up, can I have a turn asking advice?"

"Shoot."

"You saw a lotta Xander during the school year, right?"

"Four days a week."

"How does he seem?"

Dawn took a deep breath. Potentially dangerous territory here.

"Everybody loves to work for him because he has everything planned out with so much detail. They work hard, but there's no wasted motion. A big part of my job is translating his notes and putting them in readable form. Then I print out copies and give one to each area. Everybody has a specific task to fulfill; once they've done that he tells them to knock off for the day. That motivates people to work harder. It's his organization that keeps them so far ahead all the time."

"I kinda figured he was a slave driver or something."

Again Dawn sighed. "Only with himself."

"Meaning?"

"He does just about everything. Roving around the site making notes, talking to suppliers, meeting with city officials, coordinating security with Angel, working with Willow to come up with a workable design...he does all that. Most of them all at once."

"Can't Red help him with that stuff?"

"Well, the designing and the hobnobbing with the Mayor business, yeah. Plus she handles the money side of things. It's different, though."

"How so?"

Dawn hesitated, trying to come up with the right words.

"Willow can close her eyes and just see everything in her head. Designs, balance sheets, schedules...they're all filed away in some corner of her brain. Xander can't operate that way.

Let me give you an example. Last week she came up with a really cool idea for the mezzanine. She sat down at the drafting board in the office and drew it up in an hour. Xander looked at the sketch for a minute, took some notes and drove off in his little golf cart. Four hours later he came back with like, ten pages of notes about everything from steel supports, to rivets, to required man-hours. THEN he left to do everything else he had planned for the day.

We try to get him to leave when we do...but he just won't, Faith. This is no lie: he puts in 14-16 hours every day. It's crazy...but he thinks it's what he has to do."

Faith nodded. "A lot of times he'll come home and just crash...well, after a little nookie, that is. He's always got enough energy
for THAT. Still...we hardly ever really talk any more. Hence my lack of cookout knowledge."

The brunette Slayer looked away before she finished.

"I guess I'm wondering if I might be boring him a little."

Dawn shook her head vigorously.

"No way! Absolutely no way. Even when he's totally wiped out, he mentions how much he misses everybody...especially you."

Faith threw up her hands. "Then why doesn't he just ease off a little? What's the point of being ahead so damn much?"

"I don't know. Most of the time when I try to get him to relax, he says something like 'ok Dawnatello' or something stupid like that. Before I left, Willow told me she'd try to get him to ease off a little. That might work a little better."

"It damn well better. I've been trusting Red to take care of him."

"I hear all the time how much he wishes you were there. Why don't you ever go along?"

"Not an option."

Faith's eyes were hard; Dawn swallowed and dropped the subject. Realizing how abrupt she'd been, the Slayer softened her gaze and grinned.

"Ok, happier topic. So, is the whole L.A. crew comin' up for the big Summers Cookout?"

"As far as I know. They're all driving up Saturday night."

"Cool. I haven't seen Angel in forever. I'm a little worried, though."

"Why?"

"Has Angel forgotten what B's cooking is like?"

"Keep making cracks like that and I just might un-invite you."

Both turned to see Buffy, hands on hips in mock severity. Faith, seeing Dawn's panicked eyes, decided to ease the younger Summers mind.

"Hey, B. Been here long?"

"Just long enough to hear you trash my cooking. I'll have you know I've improved, thank you very much."

Dawn exhaled with relief as Buffy went on.

"I'm surprised to see you up before the crack of noon, Faith. Congratulations."

Faith smiled brightly and held up her middle finger, causing Dawn to chuckle as she spoke.

"So what are you doing here, sis?"

"Thought we'd take you to lunch."

"Sold. Lock the door."

Faith stood with Dawn, looking past her sister Slayer.

"We? Where's Blondie? He stay home or is he doing his Linus act out front?"

"Your jokes are as stale in the morning as your breath."

She spun again, surprised to see Spike standing behind her.

"Hey! Where the Hell did you come from?"

"Basement has sewer access."

He held up the object in his hand.

"I use an umbrella as often as I can, by the way."

"Huh?"

"At noon-time I just use an umbrella instead of a blanket. Gives me a sense of style."

He placed it on top of the desk as Faith smirked.

"Oh yeah, real chic. You've graduated from Linus to Mary Poppins."

Dawn snickered.

"It must be after twelve, 'cause Faith's getting pretty funny."

"Watch your tongue, Nibblet. Might change m'mind about buyin' you a meal."

Faith snorted. "Like you're actually doing it. It's Buffy's money. Slacker."

Spike looked truly offended.

"I earned this money with no help from anyone. While Angel and Cordelia went to Vegas I took his shifts at the site in L.A."

He took out a wad of twenty dollar bills and held them up.

"To think I was gonna buy your lunch too. Bugger that."

Faith's eyes widened.

"Hey now...don't be so sensitive. Anyone carryin' a roll like that is a friend of mine."

"I believe I deserve an apology."

"Yeah, right."

"Neither of you goes anywhere without tellin' me you're sorry."

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Come on, Spike. It's going to get crowded if we wait much longer."

"Sorry, luv...but I've been insulted."

"Honey, I've been insulting you all day. Why so sensitive all of a sudden?"

He considered a moment, then nodded to himself.

"Fine, then. All three of you must apologize."

The women groaned as one.

"Spike," Dawn whined, "we're hungry. Stop fooling around."

"Not going to stop foolin' around till I get me some satisfaction."

Buffy grinned lasciviously. "Sounds familiar."

Spike grinned back. "Mmmm. That it does."

His face cleared and he pointed an accusatory finger.

"You're tryin' to distract me. My feelings were genuinely hurt
here."

Dawn caught Faith's eye and motioned almost imperceptibly with her head. The dark haired Slayer winked to show she understood, moving to her left as she spoke.

"So lemme get this straight, Blondie. We're stuck here because you're all sensitive today, is that about right?"

His eyes followed her movements.

"As a matter of fact, yeah. I'll stand here all day if I have to."

As soon as his attention was drawn away, Dawn snatched his umbrella off the desk and scurried off.

"Now you really will."

As the vampire turned around, Faith and Buffy hustled out the door behind her. Spike gave chase.

"Oh...come on!!"

Dawn's three step head start was just enough; the Slayers were every bit as fast as he was, making their one step head start sufficient to beat him out the door. As the three women stood, bathed in sunshine, he stared balefully from within the building.
The youngest Summers held the umbrella at each end, moving left to right as she sang.

"Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious."

"Bloody Hell. Hearing you sing once before was one time too many. Gimme the damned umbrella."

"Chim-chiminey chim-chiminey chim chim cheree

When you're with a sweep you're in rare companyyyy"

Spike frowned. "Hold on there. That song was Rob Petrie with a terrible Cockney accent."

Buffy shook her head. "It wasn't a solo number. Mary makes a cameo at the end of the song."

She hesitated a moment. "Suddenly wondering if there's something wrong with me for knowing that. I need to get out more."

Faith rolled her eyes. "Dawn, unless you're gonna fly outta here, could you cut the singing? You can dance, but..."

"Oh, ladies? Forget something?"

They looked back at a smirking Spike as he waved the roll of bills toward them.

"Lunch money's in here."

Faith pulled out her wallet and dug through it briefly. Grinning proudly, she held up what she was looking for.

"Amex card, Spikey. Don't leave home without it."

Buffy glanced into her purse.

"I do believe I have one of those as well."

"There's a difference," Spike growled. "I earned this money. You two got yours from Xander."

"Hey," Buffy warned, "I re-invested wisely. Lest we forget, I make my own living now, thank you very much."

Spike couldn't argue that, momentarily reflecting. Nine months before, Willow had hit upon the idea of a Slayer-owned business. Buffy had immediately agreed to the idea with enthusiasm, and Faith followed soon behind with Xander's support.


Six months later, an old building--not far from Rupert Giles Memorial Beach--had been completely remodeled into a state of the art fitness facility. Regular self-defense classes were taught by the owners themselves.

Much thought had been given to the naming of the gym. Xander had proposed a combination of last names, but "Hummers" was unanimously rejected by everyone but Spike, who'd been laughing too hard to register his viewpoint at the time. As they'd stood together the night before their grand opening, the business still had yet to be named. Suddenly they'd been attacked by a rarity of rarities these days: an honest to God soulless vampire. After everyone had some fun batting him around for a few minutes, Faith staked him. Unfortunately, a gust of wind came up and caused his remains to dirty up the brand-new windows, much to the co-owners' displeasure.

At that moment, Dawn hit upon a name that stuck.

Dusty's Gym was now the most popular destination in Sunnydale for those who simply wanted a no-nonsense workout, free from the meat market atmosphere of the major franchises.

Buffy and Faith bought the building outright. With a little help from Willow, a nice profit was turned the first year--a rarity for small businesses. Neither had mentioned it to the others yet, but expansion was on their minds. The no-frills gym market simply didn't exist in California.

Suddenly, a couple of Vampire Slayers had a career that fit their skills perfectly. Both often wondered why they hadn't come up with it before.

At last Spike grumbled toward Faith, "Xander had to give you the money to get started."

Faith grinned. "Yeah, well...I earned it in my own way."

Spike smirked.

"Right. The only way you know how."

For an instant her eyes betrayed a hurt expression, smile disappearing. After an silent moment she recovered, giving Spike an awkward grin.

"Yeah, well...at least I've always been good at something. Come on, I'm hungry. Let's go."

She walked away quickly as Buffy, eyes widened, poked the point of the umbrella into Spike's stomach. The vampire shrugged apologetically as he carefully opened it, hurrying to catch up with Faith.

"Here now, that came out wrong. Wasn't sayin--"

She cut him off with a wave. "Buy me a dessert to go with lunch and we'll call it even."

Spike just looked at her for a moment. He considered pursuing the apology further, but decided to leave it. He'd known the dark-haired Slayer long enough to recognize the patented Faith Harris emotional defense mechanism. To his knowledge, only one person was able to break that wall down...and the whelp wasn't here. He dropped back, getting into step with Buffy and Dawn. The blonde Slayer shook her head and whispered harshly.

"I cannot believe you."

He shrugged uncomfortably. They piled into Buffy and Spike's Escalade--a Chanukah gift from Willow. This enabled the vampire to travel easily out of direct sunlight once the window tint was properly customized. Spike sat in the center of the rear seat as they headed off in awkward silence.

***********East Los Angeles...same time*************

Manuel De Jesus "Jelly" Siberio walked the streets with a smile. It had been a productive day so far; all four of the girls
he'd visited to this point had produced quite well. All that remained was Sasha. If she'd actually managed to remain straight enough to get some action, he'd probably clear a grand as a result of the previous night's work.

Looking carefully left and right--in this neighborhood it didn't mean jackshit that he had certain connections--he crossed Cesar Chavez Avenue, taking a final drag on his Camel as he approached the motel. Flashing neon briefly illuminated the scar across Jelly's right cheek; it was widely circulated in street lore that he'd obtained it at the age of ten during his initiation into the Latin Cobras. The truth was, in fact, considerably less glamorous. His father--well, allegedly his father; in truth he had no real
certainty just who the sperm donor was--had slashed him with a broken whiskey bottle after little Manny had tried to defend his mama.

She'd been so fucked up at the time Jelly doubted she could feel anything at all, but still...laying hands on the woman who brought him into the world was not cool. Jelly had settled that little score when he was fourteen. Adios, Papi, he'd said. See you in Infierno.

One year later his mother OD'ed; her last breath was of her own vomit. Jelly didn't like to think about the day he'd found her. Stupid bitch had died within six inches of her only true love: A Goddamn crack pipe. He hadn't shed a tear to this day, and thinking about it just served to piss him off more than anything else.

The Arrow Motel had seen better days...or so it was said. It had been so long, however, no one knew just when they'd occurred. The dilapidated old sign had been halfway burned out for years, leaving only a flashing "OW" to illuminate the sidewalk beneath.

The front desk clerk was slumped in his chair, head lolled to one side. Jelly shook his head and spoke.

"Bobby."

No response.

"BOBBY!!"

The man stirred slightly, blinking.

"Whatchoo want?"

Jelly nodded his head toward the stairs. "She up there?"

"Fuck should I know?"

"Christ, Bobby. You need to stay straight when you work. Otherwise you going to get yourself robbed and shit."

"I got it hid real good. Ain't nobody goan' get my money. No fuckin' way."

"Yeah? Lemme tell you something. You need to straighten out if I'm gonna pay you. You supposed to be watching the bitch. If I don't find her upstairs it's your ass, entiende?"

Bobby opened his eyes a fraction wider. Jelly was not a man to be toyed with.

"She up there, man. I got it together."

"Right." Jelly was already walking away, shaking his head. As he climbed the creaky wooden steps, crying was audible within Sasha's room. He sighed with infinite patience, took a deep breath and entered.

She was nude, splayed out on the filthy mattress. Her ribs, painfully visible, expanded as she gasped.

"J-Jelly?! Oh, baby, I'm sorry...oh God...."

"Ay, carajo. Cover yourself up, for Christ's sake."

Sasha was clearly in hysterics, paying him little mind; Jelly yanked the sodden sheet out from under the bed and laid it on top of her.

"Come on girl...coelho suave. What's the fuckin' problem? Somebody beat you?"

She shook her head slowly. His eyes narrowed dangerously, not liking where this could be headed. Sasha was one of his best girls...when her mind was right.

"How much you got for me?"

"I'm s-sorry...," she whispered. He yanked her off her feet by the hair and snarled.

"Quit your bawlin' and gimme my fuckin money."

Her eyes were wide in terror.

"I...don't have..."

He slammed her against the wall, holding her by the throat.

"You better be fuckin' lyin' to me. I swear, puta, if you're tellin' me you lay here all day doin' nothin, I'm gonna hurt you bad."

"Please...please hurt me."

He blinked. "What did you say to me, bitch?"

Sasha suddenly smiled. "I want you to hurt me some more. It kinda gets me off."

His shook with rage, raising his hands to squeeze the life out of her.

She put one hand over his and gave a squeeze of her own, reducing the bones to splinters in seconds. His mouth gaped open, but no sound came out, so intense was the pain. She bent his wrist back, forcing him to his knees.

"Go on, little one," said a voice from the shadows. "The bad dogcatcher doesn't have the proper netting to handle the new puppy. Ruff! Ruff!"

Jelly was a young man with street smarts to spare; he was so shocked that anyone could get the drop on him he craned his neck to see his new enemy.

That was just too inviting for Sasha. She plunged her incisors into his carotid artery and drank deeply.

As he permanently faded to black, Manuel Siberio had one remaining conscious thought.

Hola, Papi.