by Rob Sorenson

Faith entered the bathroom and looked upon her husband, who had again nodded off in a sea of bubbles.

He's exhausted, she thought, staring at him tenderly.

"Xand."

He stirred slightly.

"Xander."

"Mmm."

She sighed, leaning over to give him a light tap on the head.

"OW!"

Well...Faith's version of a light tap, at least.

"Couldn't you have just said wake up or something?"

"I did."

"Oh. Well, then. Ummm...surprise!"

He spread his arms wide and smiled. With great effort, Faith didn't return his expression, folding her arms.

"O...kay. Maybe not such a surprise since Buff walked in on me, but still...are you at least mildly shocked?"

"Stunned," she responded sarcastically.

Xander fell silent.

Uh-oh. Doghouse. Initiate emergency wife-calming sequence.

"Honey, is everything ok?"

She simply shrugged.

"Did I do something wrong?"

Another shrug. Oh great, Xander thought. It's Sherlock time. I hate it when I have to figure out how I pissed someone off. There are always too many usable choices.

"You don't have a problem with Buff, right? She didn't mean to find me in here."

Faith shook her head, arms still folded.

Ok...I'll try a joke. If I could just get a smile out of her, she might lighten up a little.

"Could it be my massive studliness causing the lack of speech? If so, I understand. The women of the greater Los Angeles area line up around the block when I'm in their vicinity."

Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

Oh, God. Reverse!!! Reverse!!

"Of course I send them away because I'm married to the world's most beautiful woman."

For a second, he thought he saw her eyes soften...but only for a second.

"Ok, can we stop the riddles? I thought it would make you happy that I came home early. I've been in this tub for a while, and frankly my skin is getting kinda pruny. Would you like to join me?"

She rolled her eyes and walked out the door.

Xander--now thoroughly frustrated in more ways than one--drained the tub and hopped out, grabbing his towel. After a quick rubdown he wrapped it around his waist and followed her. Faith was in the bedroom, slipping off her sandals.

"Are you going to tell me what the problem is or am I going to get the silent treatment all night?"

She turned away from him, slipping off her jeans.

Xander's breath caught as her thong became visible. Ok. Faith wants to show me what I'm missing. Just ignore her...just...ignore...

The Slayer took a pair of shorts out of her dresser and put them on, deliberately wiggling for effect. She turned around, trying not to laugh. Her husband's expression was absolutely priceless. Gotcha, she thought. Keeping her eyes on him, she padded barefoot out of the room.

Xander smiled to himself. The fact that she was messing with him was actually a positive sign. When Faith was truly pissed, he generally went to the furthest room of the house until she cooled off a bit. It wasn't that he seriously believed she would hurt anyone...especially him. There just didn't seem to be any good reason to push it.

He threw on a pair of shorts and followed her down the stairs, continuing to turn over the problem in his mind. He knew she wasn't happy with him for being gone so much, but if that was the issue, his sudden appearance should have pleased her. Nope, he'd done something else wrong.

Deciding he was hungry, he headed for the kitchen, finding Faith seated on the counter with a slice of cheesecake. Xander regarded her for a moment as she put a bite into her mouth, now pointedly avoiding his gaze. She closed her eyes and moaned with pleasure.

Ok...that's it. After we make up she is SO gonna get it.

He moved past her to check the contents of the refrigerator. The first thing his eyes fell on a was a plastic bag of blood. Xander was man enough to admit that he loved Spike. He truly did, but...that would always be nasty. Cringing, Xander moved the bodily fluid to the rear. Finally he came upon a container of Chinese takeout. Faith spoke as he sniffed at the contents.

"I wouldn't. It's two weeks old."

"Aha! See, my plan to make you speak worked. I knew you wouldn't allow me to contract food poisoning."

She rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Go ahead and eat it."

He stared at her for a moment.

"Ok."

Grabbing a utensil out of the sink, he scooped up a forkful of moldy fried rice and raised it to his lips. Faith's eye widened.

"Xander!"

"What? You told me to eat it."

She shook her head. "You are such an ass."

"I was just doing what I was told. Worst case scenario, I'd get sick over the holiday weekend. That's not all bad considering Buffy's probably going to saddle me with grill duty anyway."

Her face held a quizzical expression. "Grill duty? What do you mean?"

"You know, for the big holiday...thing..." The light bulb came on

Oh, shit.

Faith's eyebrows were raised expectantly. "What holiday thing might that be, Xander?"

Xander's voice was small.

"I guess I forgot to tell you."

"Yeah. Guess you did. B was all surprised that I didn't already know, considering she told you three friggin weeks ago."

"I'm sorry, honey. Seriously."

Faith's eyes softened as she set her cheesecake down and slid off the counter.

"If it were just this, I wouldn't care. It's not that big a deal. Thing is, we don't really talk any more."

She turned her back to him, approaching the microwave as she continued.

"You get seriously tired and stressed. I get that. It's just...that's all I know. It feels like you keep things inside. Trust me, I recognize when people do that shit. By the way, you touch it...you die."

Xander jerked his hand away from the cheesecake. Dammit, how does she SEE that?

Faith pressed a couple of buttons on the microwave, causing three slices of pizza to slowly rotate. It occurred to Xander that she had prepared this before his arrival in the kitchen.

"As I was saying before you went after my dessert, I wish you would talk to me about things. I realize I don't know anything about what you do...but if
it's important to you, it's important to me."

He moved close, touching her cheek with the back of his fingers.

"I love you. That's important to me."

She reached up and pressed his hand against her skin.

"I know that. I just wish you wouldn't shut me out of stuff."

"I wish you'd come to L.A. with me every once in a while."

She took a deep breath.

"We've been over this. I have a business to run, just like you do."

"Yup. You also have a partner who would have no problem running it by herself for a couple of days every other week."

"Hello? So do you."

"Willow is different."

"How?"

"Honestly? Her biggest part of the project is over. She reviews what's been done. She'll make changes if things don't look right. She'll occasionally get a new idea and draft it for me. All of which could be done from here. The only reason she comes with me every week is boredom. Wills doesn't want to sit at home by herself."

"You're sayin' she can't do your job?"

"No more than I could do yours."

Faith snorted. "A monkey could do mine. I open doors in the morning and lock 'em at night. In between times I sit behind a desk and throw spitballs at Buffy."

"I'm sure she enjoys that."

"Nah. She makes paper airplanes."

"Getting back to the point, I couldn't teach self defense classes."

Faith couldn't stop herself from chuckling.

"What's so funny?"

"Just...picturing you tryin' to teach self defense. 'Ok, class, this is how you scream and run for your life'."

Xander smiled slightly, his voice even. "Original point being, Willow doesn't really understand how to build anything. She can calculate what's physically possible and all that...but materials, handling construction crews, scheduling? It's just not something she's good at. However, you and Buffy do the exact same job."

Faith grew serious. "Xander, L.A. isn't an option. I don't wanna hear any more about it."

The microwave beeped. Xander held her eyes for a moment.

"Fair enough."

He retrieved his dinner and sat down at the kitchen table, grabbing paper towels and a beer on the way. Just before he took his first bite, he
spoke without looking at her.

"In case you've forgotten, by the way, I don't always scream and run."

Faith knew that tone. She joined him at the table, frowning.

"C'mon, baby. Don't be like that. I was just playin'."

"Yeah, I know. Let's just forget it."

They ate together in silence.

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

Spike eyed Dawn suspiciously.

"Bluffin', aren't you?"

"One way to find out."

"Right, then. I see your one and raise you two more."

It had been decided on the way home that chess would be very little fun with an odd number of people. Spike, who wanted to get in some practice
before he went up against Clem at the barbecue, proposed a poker game.

Buffy called the bet, and Spike dealt out three more cards.

"Queen for the Slayer, possible straight...nine for the Bit, no
help...."

He gave himself a jack of hearts to go with the three, eight and nine of the same suit that were already facing up in front of him.

"My, my," Spike said, taking a quick glance at the hands. "Queen bets."

Buffy took a deep breath. "Check."

Dawn also checked, passing the betting responsibility to Spike. He didn't hesitate.

"I bet ten."

Dawn had nothing. "Fold."

Buffy took a long look at her hole card...then at Spike. The vampire smiled.

"Flush beats a straight, you know."

"Thank you, Mr. Hoyle. I remember the rules."

"Well, then...care to raise the stakes?"

Dawn, as was her custom, watched Buffy and Spike carefully.

Boy, if Spike can bluff Buffy, he can do it to anyone. But is he? Could he have the fifth heart, or is he just trying to scare her away?

Clearly Buffy was trying to make the same decision. Dawn turned her attention to her sister.

Buffy has a ten, jack, queen and an ace. Chances are she doesn't have the king...which doesn't matter anyway. All that matters is whether or not Spike has that heart. If not, she'll probably have him beat with the ace-queen.


"What's the matter, luv? Lost your nerve?"

Ooooh, Dawn thought. Is he trying to draw her out...or is he just ACTING like he's trying to draw her out to make her think he's trying to prey on her competitiveness? Wait a minute. That was SO the most confusing sentence I've ever had in my head.

Finally, Dawn decided that if she were Buffy, she'd need to see what Spike had. The odds were in her favor. Almost at that same moment, the Slayer nodded to herself.

"What the Hell? You only live three times. I'll raise the stakes."

She reached into her weapons chest and counted out twenty Mr. Pointies before tossing them into the middle of the card table.

"I'll see your ten and raise you ten more."

Buffy and Dawn had each made a stipulation regarding the friendly little game. The Slayer would not allow any animal wagering of any kind, and Dawn
didn't care to throw around what little money she'd saved up. That left few interesting options...until Buffy was inspired. One can never have enough weapons.

There was also a little erotic side bet that had been made while Dawn was upstairs changing clothes...but she didn't need to know about that.

Now the ball was in Spike's court. Did he really have a heart or not? To Dawn's surprise he immediately spoke up.

"That leaves ten more to me, yes? Guess I'll have to raise you one more time. I'll see your ten and raise ten."

Whoa! Dawn thought. That's like, seventy stakes! Spike HAS to have the heart. He suckered Buffy good.

Buffy glared at her lifetime companion for a moment before throwing yet another ten stakes in the pot.

"Call. Let me see what you've got."

Spike's face fell. "Dammit. You got me. I don't have a heart."

Buffy smile was radiant as she moved to collect her winnings. Spike raised his hand.

"However..."

He turned over a jack of spades, giving him a pair. Buffy's eyes were saucers.

"Awwww!! No way!!"

"Sorry luv. Let this be a lesson to you: there's more than one way to win a pot."

He put a hand over the stakes to rake them in...only to have her smaller hand slap his. Buffy spoke with an innocent tone.

"Oh, but wait Mr. Poker Master, sir. Unless I'm totally mistaken..."

She turned over her hole card to reveal a queen of clubs.

"These two Q-cards beat your two J-cards, right?"

He froze. Buffy smiled sweetly.

"Bollocks!"

"Here's a little tip for you, honey. Slayers NEVER lose their nerve."

Her eyes remained locked with his as she collected her winnings.

"Here endeth the lesson."

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

"What if I don't wanna forget it?"

Xander looked at her, his mouth full of cheese and pepperoni.

"Hmm?"

"I don't want to forget it, Xander."

"Ok. Tie a string around your finger. That helps."

Faith sighed heavily and left the table.

"Don't be a smartass, ok? I'm serious."

"I'm not trying to be a smartass. I AM trying to figure out what you're talking about."

She reopened the refrigerator and took out the plate of cheesecake.

"Earlier, you said forget it. Whenever something pisses you off or hurts your feelings, you say a little something and then try to drop it."

"You didn't hurt my-"

"Bullshit. You had that look."

"Honey-"

She held up a hand as the second slice of cheesecake landed on her plate. "Nope. No honeying your way out of this. I've teased you before about stuff, and you always had some kinda comeback."

He sighed, putting down his half-eaten piece of pizza.

"You're confusing me here."

"Xander, I say stuff to you about you teaching the class proper screaming and running away tactics. Then it's your cue to say something like 'right, Faith.
Then you can teach the class about beating people over the head with tire irons.' You know, fire back at me."

"You beat people over the head with-"

She folded her arms and stared at him dangerously. He held up his hands defensively.

"Ok, ok. I guess I'm just tired. Not really in the teasing
mode."

"That's the point. You're always in the teasing mode. Always. If I got my feelings all hurt whenever you messed with me, I'd be pretty miserable."

Xander stood abruptly, throwing the remains of his food into the
garbage.

"I don't know what you want me to tell you."

"Ok. I want you to tell me what your issues are with working so much. I'm tired of waiting for you to get over whatever it is. Is that clear enough?"

He shook his head and began to walk out of the kitchen. Faith blocked his way, speaking softly.

"Hey. Don't walk away from me."

Xander exhaled sharply. "You know, I'm under a lot of pressure. I came home for a long weekend, figuring I might get a little break...Hell, maybe even make my wife happy for once. Instead..."

She shook her head with a grin. "Nope. Not gonna work. See, you're tryin' to guilt trip me into backing off, but I'm not fallin' for it. You're gonna let me help you whether you like it or not. Tell you what..."

The Slayer held up the plate of cheesecake in her hand.

"This is the last one. If you're a good boy and answer my questions, I just might be willing to let you have a little piece."

He couldn't keep the hint of a smile from appearing on his face.

She smirked back. "I meant the cheesecake, jackass. Get your mind out of the gutter...for now. Usually I kinda like it there."

He laughed a little despite himself. Faith cut a forkful of cheesecake and held it up.

"Let's start with something simple. Do you love me?"

Xander's eyes softened. "You know I do."

"Aww. See, that was sweet, so you get some strawberry sauce with your bite. Open wide."

He rolled his eyes and did as he was told. She gently put a forkful of the dessert into his mouth.

"What's the next question?"

Faith's eyes widened. "Are you out of your freakin' mind? Finish your bite first. God, Xander. If you learn nothing else from me tonight, learn to respect the cheesecake."

He took a few moments before swallowing. "It IS awfully good."

"Damn straight. Ok, next question. Do you realize how much it hurts when you don't tell me what's bothering you?"

He looked at her for a long fifteen seconds. She simply held up the bite of dessert expectantly.

"You know hurting you is the last thing I would ever want to do."

"That wasn't an answer. No bite for you."

He sighed. "Ok."

"Ok, what?"

"You're just going to tell me I'm a moron."

"Maybe. Then again, I might be able to help. Either way, you're gettin' sweet creamy goodness out of it, so stop whining and spill."

Xander turned away, walking slowly toward the range. His own image reflected back from the black glass of the wall oven. Over his shoulder Faith was visible as well. Their eyes met as he spoke.

"I guess what it comes down to is this: things are changing. The bad guys just aren't local any more."

"That's a bad thing?"

"No, of course not, it's just...look, you would agree that evil isn't gonna die, right? I mean, sure, the Hellmouth is full of Novocaine, but the bad guys are bound to pop up somewhere. It's just a matter of time."

Faith simply nodded, waiting for him to continue.

"The last time we had a big problem to deal with, we wound up with five figure hotel and food bills, six figure medical bills and a seven
figure payoff to a witch. In other words, kinda pricey."

She didn't know how to respond. Xander almost never talked about finances.

"Are we...are there problems? With money?"

He turned to face her, shaking his head vigorously.

"No, of course not. God, no. I can't even process how much money we have now. It doesn't even feel real. Sometimes I think someone's going to knock on the door one morning and kick us out."

"Anybody tries it, I'll show 'em what kickin' really is."

Xander smiled. "Anyway, the point is we used to be able to just try and get by here while every baddie under the moon took their shot at the Slayer. Now, all that's changed. Evil won't come to us any more; we have to go find it sometimes. That's going to cost money."

"Wait a minute. You just said we were doing great. Now you're worried about money again. I don't follow."

"We ARE doing great...for normal people. Thing is, we're not normal. You're a Slayer and I'm...whatever the Hell I am. The rules have changed for us, and it's gonna be an expensive mission from here on out."

Faith just waited as he ran his fingers through his hair uncomfortably.

"The money for the last thing we did was generated by Willow and me. Now this project is so huge, Faith. All our eggs are in this one basket, and Willow's part of this is over.. It's pretty much mine to screw up now. I've never felt like everything depended on me before."

He looked away from her before making the final admission.

"I'm scared of letting everybody down."

Faith hesitated a moment before putting her plate down. She moved next to him, hopping up on the counter top so that they'd be shoulder to shoulder. Finally she reached over and gave him a light slap on the back of his head.

"OW!"

Well...a light slap for her, at least. Faith tilted her head back
and forth as she spoke.

"Ok, where do I start? Number one, I don't wanna speak for B, but I'd be willing to bet that she'd be offended by you thinkin' we need to be taken care of."

"I never said tha-"

"Yeah, you did. 'The money was generated by Willow and me,' or something. Ok, maybe before you had a point...but Buffy and me have our own thing going now, and we're doing just fine. In fact, we're talkin' 'bout opening new ones. Expanding and stuff."

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yeah. Really. I guess if you were around a little more often I could share things like that with you. Point is, we don't need a sugar daddy. As far as the expensive mission stuff goes, when we were in New York we would've scored some sleeping bags and stayed in an abandoned building in the Bronx if we had to. The money is cool; I'll never say it isn't. Still, I know how to survive without it. Did it for years."

She slung her arm around him. "We'll find a way, big guy - with or without the cash. We always do. You're bein' too hard on yourself for nothing."

Xander gave her a little smile and took hold of the hand that rested on his chest.

"I'm sorry. Guess I got a little wrapped up in being useful for
once."

She glared at him.

"Don't make me hit you again. The no putting yourself down rule is in lifetime effect, remember?"

"You know what? As often as you threaten to hit me, I really should try to learn how to fight."

He was changing the subject and she knew it...but progress had been made. In time, he would tell her whatever else was on his mind...so she let it go.

Faith lay her head against his shoulder. "After coming up against demons for nine years you're just now making that decision? Do I really hit that hard?"

"You think I can't?"

"Can't what?"

"Learn how to fight. You know, Dawn used to be awkward and clumsy."

"She's still awkward and clumsy. Now she's just an awkward and clumsy badass."

"There you go. I have a goal. Xander the Fighting Klutz."

Faith chuckled, stroking the back of his hand with her thumb. "Honey, I've already shown you a couple of moves. If you want, we can try some more stuff, but...some people just aren't meant to be that kind of fighter. You fight in your own way, Xand."

He shrugged, looking down at his shoes.

"Must be a macho thing. Wanting to be needed, and stuff."

"I need you all the time...just not to punch and kick people. I need my Xander for everything that happens before and after the violence. As far as the macho thing goes..."

She lifted his hand to her lips, kissing each finger as she spoke.

"I know lots of good ways to make you feel like a man."

Xander moaned involuntarily, weak to her touch as always. Then his eyes snapped open.

"You know, something just hit me."

"It's called a hard-on, Xand."

"Cute. No, actually I was thinking about my reward. I answered all your questions."

"Ummm, hello? Unless you haven't noticed, the reward's on its way."

"Not what I meant. Lie down."

She raised her eyebrows. "Excuse me?"

His eyes narrowed. "You heard me. Do it."

Faith swallowed. Mmmm...all commanding...

Her upper body lay on the counter now; Xander covered it with his. As he plundered her mouth, she instinctively began lifting her powerful thighs to imprison his hips. Suddenly Xander pushed himself above her, one hand on each side of her shoulders.

"Not just yet. What's your hurry? We've got all night, you know."

She pulled him back against her with force. "I know how long we got. I'll keep it in mind the next few times."

Still, Xander resisted even as she plunged her fingers into his hair, managing to pull himself away with great effort. His face took on a quizzical expression.

"No, no...I feel like I'm forgetting something."

Faith's gaze was feral now. Her chest heaved with frustration.

"Ok, you've been spending too much time with the guys at the construction site. Lemme break it down for you: hot, horny wife who's on the edge of hurtin' you REAL bad if you don't get back down here. Now would be good."

He climbed on to the counter, pulling her all the way up as he went; Faith's entire body now lay on the cool, smooth surface. Xander bent down, ever so slowly lifting her T-shirt. As her pale skin became exposed, his tongue formed a moist trail from her lower abdomen to her sternum. He lingered there for a moment, then worked his way up her throat, finally reaching his Slayer's impatient mouth as he finished undressing her.

This time he moved out of the way before she could try to ensnare him, crawling along the counter as they kissed. Faith's bare feet were trying to gain purchase on the granite surface to stay with him. At last he broke off the kiss, breathing hard.

"Don't move."

"Xander, come on. Please-"

"I'll be there soon enough. I'm getting my reward."

He crawled to the other side of the counter. Faith, doing her best to let him have control, craned her neck to see what he was after. He spoke in a deep, soft tone.

"You're being a good girl, Faith. I'm proud of you."

"I can only be good for so long, baby. What are you do-"

Her voice broke off as she heard him crawling back in her direction.

"Close your eyes."

She obeyed him...then gasped as the cold sensation hit her skin.

"What is it?"

"You can open them now."

She looked down to see a partially eaten piece of vanilla bean cheesecake on her belly. The strawberry sauce was slowly oozing in all directions, with Xander tilting the plate, doing some decorating with the remaining droplets. He smiled at her.

"Now THIS is a reward."

She shivered...for multiple reasons.

"It's too cold, Xander."

"I'll have you warmed up soon enough. You promised me cheesecake, yes?"

Faith swallowed. "Yeah. I did."

He lowered his face toward her as he spoke his last words for several minutes.

"Now I'm gonna have my cake and eat it too."

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

"So...you destroyed it?"

(Smashed it into a thousand pieces. It...didn't feel right to have it somehow.)

"I get that. Spike feels the same way."

Buffy heard a soft chuckle over the phone.

"What?"

(Nothing. Thinking about the past. Anyway, even if I had kept it, there was a chance that it would fall into the wrong hands. About the only advantage humans have is sunlight and...)

"Us," Buffy finished.

(Right. So it seemed like the wise thing to do.)

"Ok. In which case, we shouldn't have had a vamp walking in the sunlight...and yet there was."

(I don't see how. Spike could tell you more about this, but everything I've ever read or heard refers to the one and only Gem of Amara.)

"Actually Spike said the exact same thing."

(Which leaves us with a mystery.)

"One we need to look into. This particular vamp, Angel? Not high on the brain-chain. If he had one of these things..."

(It stands to reason there could be more. Ok, we'll see what we can come up with on our end.)

"I'll try to get some more info. Of course, my detective work generally consisted of beating Willy up. Maybe I'll get lucky this time, though."

(He's still there?)

"Willy? Oh, yeah. Pretty much gone legit now. Well," Buffy corrected herself, "maybe legit is a bad term to use. He has no demons to serve, so he had no choice but to upgrade to the dregs of humanity."

(Not much of an upgrade.)

"If I can't kill his clientele, I choose to consider it that way."

(Fair enough. So...I guess we can compare notes this weekend.)

Buffy brightened. "Yes, sirree. How do you like your steak?"

(Through anyone's heart but mine.)

"Oh, God."

(What?)

"You made a joke. Did someone give you caffeine again?"

There was a hesitation.

(It was early this morning.)

"Thought so."

(Worked most of it off, though.)

Now Buffy hesitated.

"I don't want to know, do I?"

(Probably not.)

"Ok. I'll see you Sunday night."

Buffy hung up the kitchen phone, no closer to a satisfactory answer than when she started. She was leaned against the sink, frowning in thought when Dawn walked in, headed for the refrigerator.

"Hey. I thought you were going to bed."

"I am. Got thirsty. What are you thinking so hard about?"

"Just got off the phone with Angel. He destroyed the gem...which means our guy had a different one."

"Ok, I thought there WAS only one."

"Doesn't look that way."

Dawn poured herself some water as she spoke.

"I'll do some research at the office. You never know; it might just keep me awake."

Buffy sighed. "Couldn't hurt to try, I guess. Got a feeling this is something different. Don't ask me why, but the Slayer bells are going off like crazy."

"I love Slayer bells. They remind me of Christmas."

"Go to bed, Dawn."

They exchanged a grin. Dawn finished her water and began to walk out of the kitchen...then hesitated.

"Buffy, I wanted to talk to you about something."

The Slayer took a seat at the snack bar.

"Ok. What's up?"

Dawn suddenly felt the need for more water. She took a deep breath before speaking.

"A lot has changed for us in the last year. We've all grown, you know?"

"I haven't," Buffy grumbled. "Little Miss Six Feet Tall."

"I'm five-nine and a half, and that's not what I meant."

"You're six feet tall in heels. SO not fair."

"Could we possibly look past your vertical issues for a second? I'm trying to tell you something."

"Sorry. Go ahead."

"As I was saying, sometimes changes happen that don't seem...normal. Two years ago, would anyone have even dreamed of Faith and Xander being married? I don't think THEY even imagined something like that. It's just life. Especially our kind of life. Things just come out of nowhere."

"When things come out of nowhere, I usually kill them."

Dawn glared at her in annoyance.

"And the point of telling me that is...?"

"Just a handy rule of thumb. Passing on the wisdom."

"Thanks so much. Where was I?"

"We have unpredictable lives. At least I think that's where you were going with that."

"Right. Sometimes things happen that are sort of unorthodox...but that doesn't make them bad. It just makes them..."

"Unexpected?"

"Yes. Exactly. Like when Willow...um...changed direction."

Buffy smiled. "That's an interesting way of putting it."

"That's sort of what's happening with me. Not in the Willow sort of way," Dawn amended hastily, "but in a maturing sort of way. Like you and Faith opening your own business."

The Slayer's eyes widened.

"Oh! Oh! I forgot to ask you something!"

"What?"

"I'm going shopping for picnic supplies tomorrow. Could you cover my 12:00 class at the gym?"

"I have to work tomorrow, Buffy."

"Not at 12:00."

"That's my lunch hour!"

"I know that...but I really need you. It's only, like, a five minute drive from your office to the gym."

"Thank you, Rand McNally. I live here too. Just when am I supposed to eat if I do this?"

"I'll bring you something from the store afterwards."

"Why can't Faith cover you?"

"She's coming with me. We have to buy a new grill...and I need someone to help with the heavy lifting."

"Oh gimme a break. You're a freaking Slayer."

"With two arms. That's the key. Of course I can lift stuff; it just goes faster if there are four. Please help me out, Dawnie? Pleeeaaase?"

The Key sighed wearily. "What level is the class?"

Buffy smiled broadly, knowing she'd won. "Beginner. Half the time nobody shows up at the noon class anyway. If there's nobody around at 12:10 you can skip out."

"Fine. Whatever. You owe me, though."

Buffy folded her arms.

"Ok. I'll make you a deal. You do this for me, and I'll let you live and eat here all summer for free. Oh...wait. You're already doing that."

Dawn laughed in spite of herself. "I assume you cleared this with Willow or Xander? Just in case the class runs late and I can't get back in time?"

"They'll be fine with it. It's a holiday weekend, Dawn."

"I'm going to remember that if I'm fired. Ok, what am I teaching exactly?"

"Basics. What to do when someone pulls a knife. Teaching the women in the class how to defend themselves from a male attacker."

"Savate kick upside their head. Works in both situations."

"Dawn, what part of beginner did you not understand? Try again."

"Side-step arm drag and testicle squeeze?"

"Now you're talking."

"Savate kicks are more fun."

"They surely are."

Spike walked in as Buffy sighed to herself.

"I remember those early days when my skills were more limited. I get all nostalgic. Come to think of it, I haven't crushed a set of demon balls for so long, I sorta miss it."

The vampire stopped short, turned on one heel and walked back out of the room. Dawn watched him go with a grin.

"I think you frightened him."

"Yes. I should go reassure him that his jewels are safe in my...um....every choice of word is going to sound dirty here, isn't it?"

"Yup. And on that awkward note, I'm going to bed."

Buffy caught Dawn's arm.

"Wait, we got off track. What were you going to tell me?"

"Oh...nothing. Just thinking about my major. No big."

Buffy stared at Dawn for a moment. Dammit, she was going to tell me. Nice going, Buff.

"Ok. Thanks again for tomorrow."

"No problem. Good night."

"Good night."


Buffy followed her younger sister through the swinging door, searching for Spike. When he wasn't in the dining or living rooms, she hopped up the stairs two at a time. After passing her mother's bedroom - which would forever remain uninhabited as long as Buffy drew breath - she spotted a crack of light coming from the hall bathroom.

Hmmm. What is he up to?

She quietly tapped on the door. "Spike?"

(Yeah?)

"What are you doing?"

(I'm not a welcher. Go into our room and wait.)

"Huh? What do you mean you're not a-" Buffy stopped short.

"Honey, I wasn't really serious about this."

(I was. I'd have made you do what I asked. You won the game. Fair is fair.)

She shook her head and smiled. "Ok. Remember I tried to let you out of it."

(As I said...)

"You're not a welcher. I got it."

(Bit's down for the night?)

"Yes. You want me to get her? She'd probably want to see this."

(Not funny, pet. Go on, then. Be there in a moment.)

She scurried into her bedroom like an excited little girl, hopping on to their bed. This was going to be fun. The bathroom door opened, causing her to tense with excitement. She grabbed a pillow and gripped it tightly in anticipation.

His voice came softly from just outside the door. "Ready?"

Buffy swallowed hard. "Uh-huh."

Nearly two years before, Spike had invested a great deal of money at a costume shop. He'd always enjoyed a bit of role-play to spice things up. As it happened, some outfits had worked well...and some had not. When Buffy
had tried this evening's particular ensemble a year and a half ago, Spike had been so amused with her appearance she'd sworn to get even someday.

Tonight...at last...that magical night had come.

"Bloody thing is too big for me, too."

He stepped into the room, clad in a perfect replica costume of Xena: Warrior Princess. Unfortunately, it was designed to fit people the size of Lucy Lawless. Spike adjusted the breast-plate uncomfortably.

"How tall is this woman anyway?"

Buffy thrust her face into her pillow, deperately attempting to muffle her screeching laughter.

"Keep laughin.' Just remember how much better this thing looks on me than it does on you."

She fell off the bed.

"Here now. Calm down. If the Bit hears you, she might come see what's going on."

He held up a large metal ring.

"How does she get this thing to come back to her?"

Buffy was heaving into the pillow, trying to get her composure. Spike's face darkened.

"All right. You had your fun. Bugger this."

He tore off the costume piece by piece. Buffy finally calmed herself down long enough to watch him as he ripped off every stitch of clothing. Once finished, he stood up straight again with a smirk.

"Fancy this costume, pet?"

Buffy rolled back on to the bed with smoldering eyes. "Oh, yes. I fancy it a great deal."

He walked toward her slowly, speaking ever so softly.

"Any particular features catch your eye?"

She crawled toward him with cat-like grace, rising to her knees as he reached the edge of the bed.

"Well, let me see. I like these..." She ran her hands over his triceps and shoulders.

"I definitely like these..." her tongue traveled in the tight crevices between his rippling abdominal muscles, causing his breath to intake sharply.

Her hands were now traveling slowly down his back. Further...and further.

"All this is very nice as well. Let me see, what else can I sample..."

Her eyes moved slowly up and down, finally stopping at one particular spot.

"Ah hah. You said I'd won ALL your weapons. Fibber."

His voice was husky as he responded.

"Sorry luv. Can't let you keep that one. Might consider lettin' you use it for a while, if it pleases you."

She pulled him to her, causing them both to fall on to the bed. Buffy began trailing feather soft kisses along his jawline as she whispered.

"It always pleases me, William. Always."

He responded with a moaned, "Buffy...oh, yes."

She loved it when he made that sound. Wrapping her legs around him, she rolled herself on top. His hands were roaming deliciously all over her body, but she stilled him for a moment and raised up, straddling him with her knees.

"Wait. I don't have my costume on yet."

She shed her clothing as quickly and neatly as possible (Buffy really liked the blouse she'd been wearing, and Spike tended to rip things when he was impatient). Once finished, the Slayer resumed her position astride him, cupping his face in her hands as she whispered.

"You are so beautiful."

Tears almost always came to his eyes at moments like these, but he never felt ashamed with her. Buffy was his beating heart, and the reverence in her tone filled his senses...it was overwhelming. Spike spoke many languages, both human and demon, but none possessed the proper words as far as he was concerned.

Therefore he communicated his feelings by the only means available to him.

His touch.

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

Dawn sighed heavily.

"Great. Five minutes. I needed five stinking minutes to get to sleep, but can they wait? Nooo."

She grabbed her headphones.

"How come I always have to be the one kept awake? I wanna be the one to keep people awake, dammit."

The Key pressed play, and the smooth tones of Miles Davis "Birth Of the Cool" caressed her ears. It had been a gift from Wes after she'd confided her sleeping difficulties the night before any big exam. At first she'd wrinkled her nose at it, but Wesley had insisted she give it a try.

"Let your thoughts go," he'd said. "Lose yourself in the music. No matter how stressed I feel, this eases the burden a bit. Trust me."

When Dawn's eyes finally closed for the night, her last thoughts were of Wesley...and they were decidedly soothing.

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

Los Angeles... next morning

No one in the Fang Gang would ever be accused of being a morning person. It was the nature of the job. Only Fred was used to early hours from her years in Pylea; she'd been performing hard labor at the crack of dawn. Such patterns were not easily broken. Therefore, she almost always opened the office at 9:30.

At one time, Gunn had always been forced to tag along, much to his displeasure. As she walked through the door, she smiled at the memory. His truck - the vehicle that he'd mortgaged his soul to have - was their only means of transportation. Gunn only had one hard and fast rule in their relationship: no one drove that truck but him. This left them with no choice: for a year, Charles was the most disgruntled chauffeur in the world.

Now, however, things were looking up financially at A.I. - so much so that Angel had invested in company vehicles. Fred thought Charles was going to cry with joy when he learned that his sleeping patterns were no longer destroyed.

Fred flipped on the lights behind the front desk, noticing a yellow Post-It clinging to her monitor. Without reading the words, she recognized that Angel had written it immediately. He had a classical style of handwriting that Fred loved; it was almost artistic. Wesley's, while perfectly legible, was almost too perfect. Substance over style.

Cordelia, on the other hand...Fred sighed to herself. Cordy wrote like one of those contestants who didn't come up with the answer in Final Jeopardy until there were three notes left in the song. Babylonian scrolls were easier to translate than Cordelia Chase's lunch order.

Fred pulled the note off her screen as she pressed the button to activate their brand new Dell.

Good morning, Fred. Quiet night, except for one thing. Once you've checked the morning reports, I need whatever you can find about the Gem of Amara. Specifically any info about the number of them in existence. Thanks, Angel.

P.S. I left ten bucks in your desk. Please run over to 7-11 and grab some filters...and decaf. Let me again stress DECAF.

Fred shook her head and frowned. What the heck is a Gem of Amara? She was interested enough to Google it immediately...but she resisted. The morning reports always came first. She typed the website for the Los Angeles County Coroner.

It never ceased to amaze her how easy it had been to hack into their site. She'd done it in a mere four hours. Now all that was required were passwords. Well... every couple of months those got changed, and that would require a few more hours of work. Still, pretty simple stuff.

She'd learned to steel herself before viewing details of the reports. There was an unbelievable amount of violence and death in this city. Fred often considered herself a member of the front lines against it. In truth, however, she merely scratched the surface. Normal humans committed savagery that rivaled any demon she'd faced...and that included alternate dimensions.

She clicked through the reports as quickly as possible, immediately passing by anything regarding shootings. Most demons just didn't operate that way.

"Morning, Fred."

She looked up in surprise. "Morning, Cordy. You're up bright and early."

Cordelia smiled brightly. "Why not? It's a beautiful day."

"O...kay. It's nice to see you so happy."

Cordy spread her hands wide as she reached into the mini-fridge for orange juice.

"What's to be unhappy about? The birds are singing, the sun is shining..."

Boy, she really DID get laid, Fred thought. Even though she hadn't said it out loud, her face flushed. She quickly turned back toward her monitor.

"Since you're up, do you want to help me read through some of these coroner's reports?"

Cordelia stopped in mid-sip.

"Ok, the record for longest period without hearing about death remains at two minutes, twenty-three seconds. You really do know how to ruin a mood."

"Sorry. There's a lot more than usual to go through today."

"Is it so bad?"

Cordelia looked over Fred's shoulder.

"Ok, that's just nasty."

"Yes. Looks like a normal human death, so we skip that."

"Oh."

Fred clicked on to the next case file.

"Ewww! Gross! How can you read these?"

"Someone has to."

"Ugh! That's horrible!"

Fred sighed heavily and swiveled her chair to face Cordy.

"You know, I'm not exactly thrilled to look at these either, so could you maybe hold off on the comments?"

Cordy's eyes widened.

"Oh. Well excuuuse me for not treating it as a science project or something. Those are real people we're looking at. What do you want me to say?"

"Cordelia, I know they're real people. That's why I'd rather you say nothing at all...unless you want to do this every morning."

They were silent for a moment, and Fred instantly felt bad for snapping. She grabbed Angel's note and rolled her chair over to Cordy's desk.

"Maybe you can help with something else. This looks like it would be right up your alley."

Cordelia read the note...and chuckled. Fred raised an eyebrow.

"What?"

"Just thinking about coffee."

"That's not the part I meant. It looks like Angel wants to learn something about jewelry."

Cordelia's eyes had a faraway look. Fred frowned. "Cordy? You here?"

"What? Oh, yes. Jewelry."

She refocused on the note, biting her lip with concentration.

"There's something familiar about this. Ok, I'll Ask Jeeves what he thinks."

"I was going to Google it."

"Whatever. Either way, I doubt it's on the Net. We probably need Wes for this."

At that precise moment, he walked in the front door.

"Good morning Cordelia. Good morning, Fred."

"I also need a billion dollars."

Fred and Wesley stared at her. She shrugged. "It was worth a shot."

He turned away from her, taking note of Fred's monitor. "Anything interesting?"

"Not yet. I have a ways to go, though."

"Right. I'm making tea. Would anyone like some?"

Both women declined. Cordy addressed him as he began to go about his task.

"Off the top of your head, what do you know about something called the Gem of Amara?"

Wes put a mug of water in the microwave, speaking thoughtfully as he set the timer.

"As I recall, a mystical jewel that gives vampires the ability to survive direct exposure to the sun."

"Yes!! I knew I remembered this from somewhere. Maybe Angel wants one for his birthday...or deathday...whatever vampires call it."

"I highly doubt it. In fact, I'd always thought it to be a myth."

"Sireday? That sounds nicer than deathday. I'd go with sireday. Plus, it's not a myth. Angel had this thing once."

"Really? I had no idea."

"Before your time."

"Interesting. I'd heard that only one existed."

Angel spoke as he came down the stairs.

"That's the common wisdom."

Fred smiled. "You're up early."

"Quiet night. Mostly."

Cordelia smiled to herself as Wesley addressed Angel.

"So you once possessed this gem?"

"I did." Angel took a few minutes to relay the story, finishing with Buffy's phone call the night before. The former Watcher was frowning in thought.

"I suppose it wouldn't hurt to check my books. Perhaps I'll find some information there."

Angel nodded. "Seems like the logical thing to do. Ok, how did the surveillance of Wolfram-"

"Damn, I really AM late," Gunn said from the front door. Fred smiled.

"No later than usual, honey."

"You sure? 'Cause if Angel's up..."

"I'm up early. Good morning to you too, by the way."

"I miss anything important?"

"We'll catch you up later. As I was saying, the Wolfram and Hart surveillance? Anything interesting?"

Wesley nodded slowly, gingerly sipping his tea.

"Something rather large appears to be on the horizon. There was a meeting yesterday that had tighter security than I'd ever seen before...including the visits of the Senior Partners."

"What sort of meeting?"

"I have no idea. The room was soundproofed before it started. Still, if it warrants closing down the entire building, it's a safe assumption that something major could be brewing."

"Agreed. Ok, you and I will see what we can shake loose on that. Cordy, you and Fred work on the gem-"

"I've got a hit," Fred interrupted. Angel frowned.

"Am I EVER going to be allowed to finish a sentence around here?"

"Sorry. Come check this out..." Her eyes widened. "Whoa, I have one, two, THREE hits."

This was enough to make everyone gather around her monitor as she read off the circumstances.

"Three deaths in East LA yesterday, all with punctured necks. Hector Vazquez, Salvatore Marciano...and Manuel Siberio."

Gunn raised an eyebrow. "Jelly? Jelly bought it?"

Everyone looked at him in unison. Gunn nodded back to the screen.

"Siberio. They called him Jelly."

Angel spoke for the group. "You knew him?"

"Knew OF him. Never actually met the man."

"Was he famous?"

"Don't think my man was givin' out autographs or anything...but he had a rep. Unless he changed jobs in the last couple of years, Jelly was a pimp."

Cordelia wrinkled her nose. "Changed jobs? There's an advancement program for them?"

"If a guy is connected, yeah. High-end drug dealers, casino bosses, enforcers...all considered more respectable positions."

Fred pointed at her screen. "Looks like he was still just what you said. The last person to see him alive witnessed two women leaving the hotel room where he was found. One of them was positively identified as a...regular
guest."

Gunn shrugged. "Wouldn't be the first time a hooker drew down on her pimp."

Fred was clicking away on her keyboard. "Yes, but not by draining their blood, Charles. What kind of silly nickname is Jelly, anyway?"

"You really wanna know?"

Cordy rolled her eyes. "I thought street names were supposed to make guys sound all tough. I'm not exactly intimidated by preserves."

Gunn frowned. "I thought preserves were jam, not jelly."

"Whatever. Anyway, color me curious. Where did the name Jelly come from?"

"There are different versions, but the one I believe has to do with his father. When little Manny was fourteen, he came home to find his mama gettin' beat down. Legend has it he totally snapped. Grabbed a baseball bat out of the closet and went to work. By the time the cops got there they couldn't even identify the old man. Said his head looked like..." He trailed off.

No one spoke for a moment. Finally Wesley looked down into his cup.

"I'd considered having a biscuit and jam to go with this tea. Don't believe I'll do that now."

Gunn held out his hands. "Hey, y'all asked."

Lorne sat up from his prone position on the couch.

"I didn't ask. Thanks so much for the hilarious wake-up call."

Gunn raised a quizzical eyebrow.

"Have you even moved since we left last night?"

"No. Why, is there some law that says I have to get up and move around, big fella?"

Angel addressed Gunn. "You know for a fact this guy was connected?"

"Had to be. He worked in my neighborhood as well as his."

Cordelia tilted her head. "I don't follow."

"It's like this. Organized crime has never been as strong here as it is in other major cities, which means small-timers can operate without a lot of fuss.. You wanna sell drugs to your own neighborhood, do it...just stay out of the big boys' way. Same goes for some of the other stuff I mentioned: gambling, prostitution, that sorta thing. If you try to branch out, though, you gotta clear that with the Outfit; cut them a piece of the action. Even then it's dangerous. Turf ain't no joke around here."

"Which means no one is in total control," Angel added. Gunn nodded.

"Exactly. You got your street gangs and what I call your suit gangs. They work together a lot...it's a mutually beneficial business relationship most of the time. When someone like Jelly starts cuttin' into the South Central pie, though, things get a little edgy. If things get seriously rough, the suit gangs just sit back in their easy chairs in Beverly Hills while the street gangs settle things between themselves."

Wesley contemplated for a moment. "That actually sounds rather like...well, DISorganized crime."

"Tip of the iceberg, Wes. L.A. only gets more confusing from one neighborhood to the next."

Cordelia was pointing at the screen. "Does E.T.O.D. stand for what I think it does?"

Fred nodded. "Estimated Time Of Death."

"Ok...so how many vampires feed at high noon?"

Angel considered for a moment. "Fred, check the other two."

"Already going there. One second...here's Vasquez. E.T.O.D. 1:00pm. Now I'll check Marciano."

She was clicking away as Wesley spoke. "If they were all found indoors the time really shouldn't matter anyway."

"Marciano estimated at 3:15pm."

Angel leaned back in his chair. "Generally speaking, vampires will only feed in the daylight if they're discovered while sleeping. Granted, that happens... but three in one day are too many for it to be that kind of
thing. Fred, anything in the police reports about what the other two victims did for a living?"

"Nothing that I could see. They all died in similar locations, though. Low-end hotels."

"Ok. Let's work on getting as many details as we can. Don't expect too much from the police reports, though."

Cordelia frowned. "Why not?"

Gunn exhaled sharply. "It's hard enough to get the LAPD to work any case in a poor neighborhood...but a murdered pimp? That's 'good riddance' territory."

Angel nodded wearily. "Right. Cordy, Fred, you stay here and research the case files. Also, don't forget to dig up anything you can about the Gem of Amara. Gunn, you think you could check with some of your old crew? See if they've heard of anything strange going on. Well...more strange than usual, that is. Wes and I will see if we can get a handle on whatever Wolfram and Hart are up to."

As the vampire made his way toward his private office, Wesley fell into step with him.

"If I may ask, wouldn't it make more sense if we let our friends in Sunnydale worry about their own problems for the moment? The gem made its appearance there, after all."

Angel sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers.

"Normally I'd say that's wise...but I keep coming back to those times of death. The morning after I hear about vampires appearing in sunlight in Sunnydale, I have three victims in broad daylight in Los Angeles. That's too much of a coincidence to ignore, wouldn't you say?"

*****************Sunnydale, Same Time********************

The doorbell at Casa Summers needed fixing again. Xander sighed as he fruitlessly pressed the button.

"Looks like I have a new project ahead of me."

Faith gave him a peck on the cheek.

"Look on the bright side, hon. You have unique abilities that the rest of us don't share. I mean sure, it's mundane, boring crap...but beggars can't be choosers."

He glared at her as she pounded on the door.

"Thank you for the inspiring words. As far as begging goes, I seem to recall you doing a lot of that last night."

"Whatever."

"Not to mention this morning."

"Keep talkin', big guy. Your time is coming."

He had just opened his mouth to request details when Buffy opened the door. The blonde Slayer regarded them, folding her arms.

"Faith, who's your friend? I don't remember him ever being in my house before."

Xander rolled his eyes. "Buff, it hasn't been that long."

She squinted at him. "Too long for me, buster."

He shifted uncomfortably. "I promise to try to be around more often. Ok?"

She smiled and looked to Faith. "I'm allowed to hug him if he has clothes on, right?"

The brunette Slayer looked sideways at Xander as she answered.

"If you really wanna. Don't expect much."

Xander was about to respond, but his wind was cut off by a Slayer embrace.

"Ok. Glad to see....you too," he managed to croak out.

She pulled away from him with a bright smile.

"Stay away so long again and I'll break your ribs with the next hug."

Buffy led them into the kitchen; Xander grinned slightly as he looked at the table. She'd taken the time to put some snacks out. "Hey. Quit smiling. I was serious about breaking your back."

"I thought it was my ribs."

"Now it's both."

"You know what? Those who like me threaten to hurt me. Those who don't threaten to kill me. I'd like to go thirty seconds without worrying about pain. Just for kicks."

He reached for a snack.

"Touch my Triscuits and I'll break your sodding neck."

"Ok, I give up."

Spike grinned and slapped him on the back.

"Still alive, I see."

"Amazingly, yes."

Another knock sounded. Buffy headed for the door.

"Nice timing. Oh, before I forget-"

"Yes, I'll take a look at your doorbell."

She batted her eyes flirtatiously. "Thank you, Xand."

He shook his head and sighed.

Buffy opened the door; her smile changed to a frown of concern.

"Willow, what's wrong?"

"Nothing...much. Do I look that bad?"

"Come on, what is it?"

"It's not that important. Just some trouble sleeping."

Buffy looked at her for a moment. "Ok. Come on in."

They walked into the kitchen together. Willow gave a little wave.

"Hey, guys."

Xander was about to voice concern of his own when she entered, but he caught the warning look in her eyes and chose to keep silent. Now people threaten me without speaking. What have I done to deserve this?

Buffy reached into her pocket for the ring.

"I'll get right to it. I need the Scooby research team to make a comeback."

Willow raised her eyebrows. "It's pretty."

"Yeah, it kinda is. Anyway, when a vampire puts this on, they can walk in daylight. We need to find out just how many of these things exist. So far the consensus is that there's only one, but Angel-"

Xander paled. "Could you repeat that?"

"The part about the consensus? Well, ok...admittedly it's a two vampire panel, but they're pretty trustworthy."

"The first part."

"Oh. I realize how freaky that part sounds, but it's true. Vampires who wear this ring can survive exposure to the sun."

He exchanged a look with Willow, who didn't understand his expression for a moment...then it hit her.

"Oh. OH."

"Guess I'm not crazy."

Faith took his hand with genuine concern.

"Xand? What's up?"

"Umm...I wasn't going to say anything about this, 'cause I figured you guys would tell me I'm nuts."

Buffy frowned. "Xander, spit it out."

He sighed heavily. "I'd pretty much told myself that I just saw someone who looked like her...or the sun was in my eyes, or something. Now that you tell me this, though, I'm sure."

He turned to Spike, who had already frozen in place when Xander had uttered the word "her."

"I saw Drusilla on Wilshire Boulevard yesterday afternoon."