Xander walked out of the cockpit to the large converted cargo plane that was transporting the rest of the personnel back to the East Coast. He looked down the aisle at the bolted down seats that filled much of the cargo area of the plane. Most of the equipment that had been taken to Alaska would take longer than the week or so that they had stayed there after the fight to take apart and bring back. The rest of it was on other planes that had been sent or would be sent back to New York.

Xander watched them all. Slayers. Some watchers. His own team, and some of the newly recruited army personnel that they had decided to keep on a permanent basis. Most of the people had already gone back, only a few left to debrief and tie up loose ends.

There was a mixture of emotions running throughout. Obvious joy and happiness. They had just saved the world after all. But, underneath there was uncertainty. For the world had changed for all of them.

A government agency in the fight that would bring the full weight and power of its country's military to bear on any threat that would seek to do harm to the United States. There was an offer of alliance to the Council members that had come along. With a less than subtle threat attached to it. For the military personnel that had been co-opted for the op, it was an eye opening moment that revealed part of the real truth of the world. It would call into question nearly everything that they had been taught. But, it ultimately changed nothing. They had all sworn oaths to defend the country. And be it from humans or demons, they would do their promised duty. To do anything less was unacceptable.

Xander noted that a few of them seemed less than ecstatic about the recent events. Likely because they had been personally affected by them. Even if they hadn't taken a direct part in what had happened.

He started down the aisle and took one of the empty seats near one of the slayers near the front of the zone that had been retrofitted to carry passengers. She was looking out a narrow window, seemingly lost in thought.

"Replaying things, huh?" Xander said, as he sat down.

Rona jumped a bit, surprised by the intrusion. Surprised that her slayer and now other superhuman senses hadn't picked up on him. Maybe it was too much. Everything seemed louder and brighter. Too much to absorb. Hopefully, she'd be able to get a handle on it. The slayer turned to look at Xander. "Yeah."

"I wouldn't spend too much time second guessing yourself," Xander continued. "I read the after action reports. You did good. Got all your people out safe."

The slayer rubbed the aching wound on her neck. It had mostly healed. A mix of slayer healing, the good doctor's miracle drug, and the lycanthropy that was now coursing through her veins. "Not exactly safe."

"Hey," Xander said, softly. "Look at me."

Rona turned to look at him.

He looked her in the eyes, making sure she was doing the same to him, if only by half. "You commanded them well, and you got them out safe. It doesn't always go perfectly, but this time went well enough."

"They could have-" Rona started.

"Could have. Should have," Xander broke in. "It don't matter. You can't control everything. You wanted the rank, it comes with added risk. Is this what you wanted to do?"

"Yeah," Rona said, after a moment's thought. She had asked to try her hand at leading a team. And, despite recent events, it was still what she wanted.

"Then alright." Xander stood up. He leaned down and put a hand on her arm. "This'll stay with you for a while. But, I wouldn't dwell on it too much. You completed your objective, and you got your girls out safe. You did it right."

Rona nodded and watched him go.

Xander made his way down the aisle to where his team was sitting together. He took an empty aisle seat.

"Everything going okay?" Xander asked, as they turned to look at him.

The group nodded in response.

"Good." Xander, replied. He looked at them all. They had all contributed to the last fight, in their own way. Though the last number of months had been an obvious struggle. They had found themselves separated and stretched. It had felt unnatural, though they had been together for a rather short time. Still, in this war, even a month could be a lifetime. For too many it was. "I'm glad we're all back together. Let's just hope that next time, is less, trying."

"Hope springs eternal, Xander." Paul said.

Abby and Cindy just nodded.

"How're things with them?" Curtis asked, not needing to explain the subject of his question.

"As well as can be expected." Xander looked behind him towards the people in the back. His view gazed over the slayers talking excitedly to each. Passed over them, briefly focusing on a young pale red-headed woman giggling with a Japanese slayer. He moved on and settled on a pretty brunette with long hair sitting near the back, looking down, and a little lost. "They know what they can speak about, and what they can't. Lampkin bludgeoned that into their heads pretty damn well."

"Good," Curtis stated. He took the need for secrecy seriously. He wouldn't have liked it if they had to go and start silencing people because someone couldn't keep his or her mouth shut.

"So ye think we'll get a vacation out of this?" Jack leaned back in his seat. He hadn't done much in Alaska, but he had contributed just as much as the rest during their latest campaign. From Cleveland to New York to Cleveland, he had done as ordered. Carried out his job, to the letter. Even if technically illegal or immoral. He deserved a break as much as they all did.

"Yup." Xander grinned at the man. "After everything's put back together, and we all get the long debrief, you get two weeks of downtime."

Jack grinned back.

"And you?" Curtis put in, noticing the pronoun shift. "You taking any time off. You deserve it as much as anyone."

Xander didn't say anything. As little as a few months ago he wouldn't have considered it. He would have just kept on going.

He glanced behind him.

Xander turned and looked at his team, his family. "I might stick around for a little bit. I got stuff to pack up after all. And a couple of other things to handle. But, I'll probably take a few days."

Cindy took the earbuds out of her ears and switched off her iPod. She put a hand on his arm. "You can't keep going back there, hoping things are going to be different."

"I know," Xander said. He wanted to say more, but couldn't. "No nice shiny red reset button for any of us."

"There never really is," The witch replied, giving his hand a squeeze. She looked back to what he was leaving behind, not necessarily the people, but what they represented.

"I think there's someone over there that needs you right now?" Cindy nodded towards a young woman at the back of the plane.

The government man turned around and looked back. Dawn sat by herself in a long row of seats, no real emotion on her face. Or rather, a conflicted mixture of them. He stayed on her for a moment.

Xander leaned forwards again and turned to Jack, noticing the bump in his coat pocket. "Gimme your flask."

"What?" The Irishman asked. He put a hand over his right pocket.

"Your flask. Let me have it." Xander asked again. He held out his hand until Jack placed his hip flask into it. It was silver with an embossed cross on the front, and from the weight of it, still completely full.

"That's Bruichladdich. Easy with it." Jack handed it over, somewhat begrudgingly. He had just filled it that morning. And the twenty five hundred dollar a bottle of Islay whiskey wasn't easy to find.

Xander stood up. He looked at the heavy metal flask in his hand and chuckled. "Nice to see where your salary's going."

"It's not that much of a stereotype," Jack grumbled, crossing his arms.

"Relax, I'll buy you a drink next time we hit that pub you like," Xander reassured the man. He smirked. "Something, expensive. I know they got a bottle of Glen Garioch behind the counter that they didn't let you know about."

Jack said as Xander left, heading towards the back of the plane.

Xabder had to steady himself on one of the aisle seats as the plane hit a batch of turbulence.

He took a seat in Dawn's row, the flask still in hand. "Doing okay?"

Dawn looked at him. She shook her head slightly, her neck length brown hair waving back and forth. "It's been a week, and I'm still getting over it. And, I was just stuck in that room the whole time. That was crazy enough. How do you deal with it?"

Xander shrugged. "Take away the toys and the technobabble, and it's not that much different from what we faced every year or so for the last eight years."

"Still, the number of people…" Dawn shook her head again. "It's so much. And those explosions. Even on the screens…"

"I know. It takes some getting used to." Xander thought back on his own experiences. And, the dreams. Luckily they had stopped before he had left Africa for good. Of course, he hadn't told his therapist about them coming or going. She would have used it against him, one way or another. For him, it had been much more of jarring of a transition to active field work. He'd handled well enough in his opinion. Of course, for Dawn, the only one that mattered was how she could handle it. He held out the flask. "Here, take a shot."

Dawn looked at the offered drink and then at him again. She smiled wryly. "Isn't that illegal?"

"Not in every state." Xander shrugged, and uncapped it. "Besides, I figure we can give it a pass for saving the freakin' world. Trust me, it'll help."

Dawn took it and tipped it into her mouth. Not that much though since she wasn't exactly sure what was in it. She swallowed the shot of whiskey, feeling it burn down her throat. She coughed loudly.

Xander chuckled as he took the flask back from the young woman. "That'll put hair on your chest."

Dawn just glared back at him.

She croaked out, "Like I really want that to happen."

"Feel better?" Xander asked. He took his own swig, letting the heat flow down his throat. It was good stuff. Of course, given Jack's taste in liquor and the obvious cost, it was guaranteed. He capped the flask.

Dawn nodded hesitantly. Oddly enough, she actually did. Or maybe it was the warmth that was now in her belly.

"Good. I saw you in there." Xander lay the flask on the seat next to him. It was a long row of seats and Dawn had been the only one there. Not even anyone in the next row up. Rather unlike the usually friendly girl. "You picked everything up, and I could tell that you could understand what was happening. That kind of multitasking and ability to see the whole event is useful. You'll be good at that. Once you get caught up on the book learning."

Dawn nodded. "It was you wasn't it?"

"What?" Xander asked, confused with the new line of thought.

"Our stuff? Back in Rome?" Dawn continued. "You brought all our stuff to Cleveland. Buffy thought it was some of the Immortal's people or Giles or something. Kind of dumb, but I guess she didn't think it would have been you."

Xander looked at her. "Yeah. I know you lost most of your belongings in Sunnydale, but I knew you still had some stuff. Like pictures of your mom. I didn't want you two to lose those."

Dawn looked at him and put a hand on his leg. "Thank you."

Xander smiled and put a hand on hers. He squeezed lightly.

"How about another drink?" Dawn asked, as innocently as she could. Not really to have more, since she didn't like the taste, though the forbidden nature did add to it, but mainly to see if Xander would actually let her have another hit.

Xander shook his head, still smiling. "When you're twenty one. Or the world almost ends again."

"So next year then?" Dawn quipped.

Xander nodded. "Just about."

Dawn looked ahead at the other people in the plane.

"You're not alone." Xander looked at her. "Most of them are in the same boat you are. New to it, though they have relevant experience. Don't worry. It'll come."

The watcher in training, official or not, just nodded.

Xander just sat there. He squeezed her hand again.

"I think you should get up there." Dawn said, after a minute. She had caught Vi looking at them. Obvious in her desire to get Xander to sit with her. With just a hint of warning to keep a careful distance away from what was obviously hers. Of course, it was hardly necessary. The vivacious redhead had already made it perfectly clear to those that had or might have expressed an interest in the young rogue that had recently come back into their lives. Of course, Xander couldn't tell. And if he had been aware, he would have wondered why she would go through the trouble on his account. "Vi wants to see you."

Xander picked up the flask and stood up. He made to leave.

"Thanks." Dawn called after him.

He stopped for a moment. "It's what I do."

Xander kept walking, stopping to let Satsu get out of the row that Vi was sitting in. He tossed the flask back to Jack, lifting his head in thanks.

He sat down, and scooted over to the middle seat in the three seat row. Vi had the window seat, though she moved onto his lap as soon he settled into the middle seat. It was a tight fit for her to straddle him, but it just meant that they were pressed together.

A situation neither was uncomfortable with.

"How is everything?" Xander asked, the weight comfortable in his lap.

Vi moved in, pressing her lips against his. She pulled back after a minute. "Better now."

Xander smirked. His hand went to her waist, and then to tops of her thighs. "You know, we are technically in public."

Vi pouted. "No fun."

"Maybe I just don't want to share you with anybody else." Xander leaned in and kissed her again. He grew bolder. Maybe it was the whiskey. "After the next semester, do you want to move in with me? If you can find a school to transfer to I mean. If you want to. I mean."

Vi looked at him in shock. She hadn't expected that.

"I guess maybe I should have waited until we were in private." Xander chuckled, nervously.

The redheaded slayer moved in again. "I'd love to. But, you have got to get a better place than the hole you have in New York."

"Great. You haven't moved in yet, and already you're rearranging things." Xander sighed, in jest.

Vi tickled him in the sides, noticing that while he tensed his abdominal muscles, he didn't show it on his face.

"My mother wants you to come for Thanksgiving," Vi said, looking at him seriously. "It's a couple of months still, but I thought I should ask you now."

Xander cocked his head, wondering what the purpose of the invitation was. It wasn't like he was particularly involved. At least, per his cover story. "Why? Isn't that more of a family affair."

"She knows," Vi replied, simply.

Xander paled at that. "Uh, need I ask how your father is taking an older man shacking up with his only daughter? A man in a position of authority in regards to said daughter. I imagine he's already sharpened an axe."

"Well, at first he wanted to beat you to death and bury you in the yard, but my mom convinced him not to try it." Vi smirked at his reaction. "Relax. It'll be okay. My mother absolutely adores you. And, Mark thinks you're the coolest."

"How'd she figure it out?" Xander asked.

"Well, I kept them up to date with what I could," the slayer explained. "And, they naturally had questions about you. I guess she could just tell how I felt when I talked about you."

"She did seem the observant sort," Xander muttered.

"She asked me straight a while back during one of our calls." Vi continued, referring to the weekly and sometimes more than weekly phone calls she made to her biological family. Though separated by time and distance, she still wanted a close relationship with them.

She hesitated for a moment. "I told her. I mean, she's my mom. I couldn't just lie to her about something like that."

"I know." Xander embraced her again, rubbing her back. "It's okay. I understand. And, I'll see about getting authorization to fill them in on the whole truth. I know you didn't exactly feel right about that."

"Thanks Xander," came Vi's muffled response. It emanated from Vi's face pressed against her boyfriend's neck.

"So, I was thinking." Xander said, as Vi let go and looked at him again. "You get a couple of weeks off in December, right?"

Vi nodded.

"I figure you'll want to spend Christmas with your folks, so I was thinking, the week before…" Xander stopped and smiled.

"Out with it." Vi pouted, urging him to continue. She was clearly excited.

"Paris." Xander smiled. "You, me, Paris in winter. Uh, that's France, not Texas."

Vi giggled and nodded. Evidently having a boyfriend that was now as well-traveled as the next secret agent had its benefits.

She frowned after a moment. "This isn't really like you."

"What do you mean?" Xander asked.

"A vacation in Europe?" Vi explained. She leaned back to take in his appearance. "That doesn't seem your style."

"I can't be that high school geek forever. Or some wage slave or laborer for the rest of my life," Xander explained. Though he did have the utmost respect for those that worked with their hands. He may have been part of management, but he always respected the union. "Besides, I figure, that since I've got the cash, might as well spread it around some. Give you a taste of the finer things. What you deserve."

"You know you don't have to." Vi chided him. "I'm not some gold digger only after you for your money."

"I know. Besides, I figure I'm the lucky one in this thing." Xander grinned.

The comment did tug at Vi's heart though. "Still, you seem really different now. Much better than last year. When you used to call me."

"You know, Cindy's said the same thing to me," Xander added, thinking about the conversation from not too long ago.

Vi leaned in close again, enjoying his presence. "I think I like it. More than the broody you."

"Maybe it was all an act." Xander tried to smiled, but found he couldn't bring himself to.

"No it wasn't," Vi contradicted. "And I know you still have it in you, but I'm glad that it didn't end up consuming you."

Xander hugged her tight. "Thanks to you."

"You're a better man than you know, Xander." Vi said, leaning back. She tried to shake off the melancholy though. "C'mon, tell me about this trip."

Xander grinned. Though inwardly, he knew that he had to disagree.

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"You don't have to be the one that does this you know." Curtis looked through the one way mirror at the man in the next room. "Hell, you don't even have to be here. I'm surprised Grainer let it happen."

"I managed to talk Dr. Farmiga into letting me be the one." Xander said, looking through the same glass. "This isn't the military. Or the FBI. No rules about this sort of thing in here."

"Really? Dr. Farmiga signed off on it?" Curtis looked at his partner. "It must have taken some doing."

"I can be plenty convincing when I need to be." Xander said, still looking through the one-way mirror at the man shackled down to the one chair in the room. Though he knew that part of the reason she had okayed it was to keep him in the same sociopathic state as he had been when he had joined up. "Best get to it, then."

Xander walked towards the exit.

"You don't got to do this." Curtis called after him.

Xander stopped, the door midway open. "Yeah, yeah I do. It's the least of what he deserves."

He walked out, closing the door behind him. He walked forward a few feet, stopping in front of the sentries. They cleared him and opened the door.

One of the heavily armed men made to follow, but Xander shook his head. If this was what it came down to, he wanted to do it alone. Or at least, as alone as they would let him. It was something of the dignity he deserved.

He walked into the room. The man strapped down to the chair tried to turn his head to look at who it was, but it wouldn't let him.

Xander walked around in front of the chair, back towards the large mirror along the wall. He stuck a hand in his pocket. "How's it going Jesse?"

Jesse tried to raise his arms, not really testing the bindings, but more to convey a point. He grinned, though it didn't meet his eyes. "Can't complain, I guess. You?"

"It's over," Xander stated. He walked closer and knelt down, looking up at his old friend. "Sekhmet's destroyed. It's been confirmed. She pulled all her energy into staying in this realm, and we destroyed her avatar. Nothing to pull back, her energy just snapped and dissolved."

Jesse clenched his jaw. "You're lying."

"No." Xander shook his head. "Everything's been destroyed, everyone involved is dead. Except for you. You're the last loose end to tie up on this thing."

"So what now?" Jesse asked, the bindings cut into his face. It was something of a struggle to even speak. "You going to send me to prison for the rest of my life? Gitmo without trial?"

Xander looked down. "Not exactly. Religious terrorists, of your ilk, despite your help to us, the rules are different."

"An execution." Jesse spat out. "You're going to kill me. After I helped you."

"Yeah." Xander stood up again. He pulled his hand out of his pocket, revealing a syringe. He pulled off the safety cap and put it in his pocket. "Don't look at me like that. We both haven't forgotten what you've done. Even if you did think it was for legitimate reasons."

"It's going to be you then?" Jesse said, staring at the needle. "C'mon you're joking right? This isn't funny."

"No. It's really not." Xander took a breath. "Who'd have thought. After all these years. That it'd come down to this."

"You think you can do this to me?" Jesse chuckled once, not really believing it yet.

"Yeah." Xander sighed. "I did it before remember? This time, it won't be an accident."

"No. Man, c'mon. I helped you," Jesse said, gritting his teeth. "There's got to be some other way. Send me back to prison. Without her, there's no way I'm getting out."

"Not the way it works, man." Xander took a step closer. "I'm sorry. I don't make the rules."

"No, you just enforce them." Jesse looked up at his friend. It obviously tore at him. And that was as heartbreaking as what he was going to go through. He stared at the needle. The clear liquid inside shone as light glinted off of its glass enclosure. "Is…is it going to hurt?"

Xander looked at the needle in his hand. "No. It's not going to hurt."

"This is how it's going to go then." Jesse closed his eyes for a moment. He sniffed once. Then opened his eyes again. "That's it? That's all I get?"

"Pretty much." Xander moved closer and gripped Jesse's arm with his left hand. He squeezed it hard a few times, making a vein pop up.

He bent down and slipped the sharp needle carefully into his old friend's arm. "Any last words?"

Jesse turned his head as much as possible and looked at his friend. To his credit, Xander looked back and held it. "For what's it worth, I'm glad it's you."

"Don't be," Xander whispered, as he injected the poison.

The effect was fast, though hardly quick enough for the both of them.

Jesse's body clenched and Xander gripped his hand as the former vampire and human went through his death throes.

Xander felt the strength ebb from his friend's hand. His life going, and then gone.

He stood up and put the safety cap back on the syringe and placed it back into his pocket. He looked at the corpse before him, then bent forward to check. He turned and walked out the door without saying anything. A sentry went in as soon as he had gotten out of the room.

Curtis was waiting for him after he had left the room, handing the spent needle to one of the remaining guards.

"Xander," Curtis began, walking quickly to catch up to his team leader. "If you want to talk about it..."

"It's always someone's friend. Or brother. Or father." Xander didn't look at the man next to him. "I'll be fine."

"No, you won't. I know you better than that." Curtis stopped, and pushed him into the wall. "You can't keep closing off like this."

"It's my responsibility. I can handle it." Xander stared back at him. "Whatever you think that I feel about the death of a man that caused countless deaths, it won't affect how I do my job. It's not your concern. I can handle it."

"I know you can." Curtis let go. "But, it doesn't mean you should. Or that you need to do it alone."

"This is what I do." Xander looked down the hall to his left. "It's over. We won, and I don't have to look over my shoulder wondering if he's going to come after me and mine. No loose ends. It's better this way."

"You just executed one of your oldest friends." Curtis pointed back to the room Xander had just left. "You telling me you don't feel anything at all?"

"Right. I don't feel anything at all," Xander said, not looking towards where his partner was pointing towards.

"And it's that easy for you?" Curtis asked. He'd had the profiling courses. Amongst other FBI training. From working with Xander for that long, he had some idea of his character. And the scary amounts of what he could take. And do. Still, that didn't make him not human. "That's bullshit. And you fucking know it."

"Yeah," Xander admitted, somewhat surprised that Curtis had swore. "But, that never stopped me before. He deserved to die. And he deserved it to be someone that cared about him. And, he did help us you know. In the end, it was the least I could do."

"It doesn't always have to be about how other people feel, Xander." Curtis said, sadly. "You deserve some happiness too."

"I'm plenty happy." Xander tried to smile, but didn't quite manage it. "There is good in my life."

"I know," Curtis replied. "But, it doesn't mean you got to keep doing things like this. You don't have to be that guy anymore."

"It was the one thing I was ever really good at that mattered to anyone at all," Xander stated, shaking his head.

"That's not true, and you know it," Curtis disagreed. "You are my friend. And, you are the friend and loved one to a good many people out there, and that has nothing to do with what we do. And, you know it. So stop being such a dour bastard."

"Yeah." Xander looked back down the hall. Towards the room. Knowing what lay inside.

Curtis hesitated for a moment. "You never did tell me why you came back. Why you stopped."

"Ask me again sometime. Maybe I'll even tell you," Xander said, quietly. He turned towards his second in command. "We still got your family picnic to go to tomorrow right? We should get going to the airport."

Curtis nodded. Knowing that he wouldn't get anything out of him for the moment. He checked his watch. "Yeah, you're right. Wouldn't want to miss the flight. The others are probably already on their way to the airport."

Xander started down the hall again.

"You going to be okay?" Curtis asked, as he caught up again. He was worried, but he would have been more worried had Xander not expressed any emotions about what had just happened at all.

Xander kept walking. He turned his head though. And smiled. A real one this time. "Yeah. I guess I am."

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Ray looked at the printout in front of him. He grabbed a magnifying lens from a container on his desk and held it closer. He angled it over the area that portrayed a young man at the scene.

"What is it?" Alex walked up and set the two lattes on a clean area on the messy desk. She yawned, the hours were getting to her. It was extremely late, or rather early, and there was nobody else at the office. In fact, she was supposed to be there, in about four hours. "Find something?"

"Check this out." Ray said, passing over the picture and glass. "Does this look like an eyepatch to you?"

Alex leaned down and looked through the offered lens. It was a horribly grainy shot that had been blown up a few times. Likely photocopied as well. She could barely make out any details at all. "I guess. What's this from anyways?"

"Africa. Benin to be exact." Ray said, he leaned over and pulled out one of the coffees from the cardboard travel holder. He took a sip and grimaced. Nobody drank just regular coffee anymore. "A friend of a friend managed to get me some of the old surveillance photos from a police investigation."

"Any reason why?" Alex shook her head and put down the lens. She picked up the other coffee and took a sip. "I thought you said he wasn't in Africa anymore."

"At the moment no," Ray replied. He took another sip. "However, I figure that he started in Africa. If he was just starting out, he may have been less, good, at covering his tracks back then. I cross-referenced all reports and rumors of his actions with any investigations that were carried out, official or otherwise. Looks like we got a hit."

"You can't even tell what he really looks like though," Alex criticized, pointing at the picture.

"That's true." Ray admitted. "But, we're closer. There's some useful information we can get. Like build and height. It's something at least."

"That is true," Alex replied. She lay down her latte on the desk. "So what do we do now?"

"Go to where he's been." Ray grinned. He opened a desk drawer and pulled out an envelope. He handed it to the young reporter. "Hit the streets, see if anyone knows what's up."

Alex opened the yellow enveloped and shook out the contents into her hand, examining them. "Two tickets?"

"To paradise," Ray sang. He frowned when the young report just looked at him blankly. "Eddie Money?"

Alex just shook her head.

"Kids these days." Ray sighed. "Anyway, I've been combing the message boards. You know, the ones for gun nuts and paranoid conspiracy types. Real X-files and New World Order guys. Crazy shit."

"Okay." Alex refrained from rolling her eyes. As well as telling him that he was one to talk. "And this leads you to Arizona because?"

"Apparently, there's something there to see." Ray grinned. "Some forum for, get this, the Demons, Demons, Demons! database, had a topic about something that happened in Arizona a couple months ago. Rumor has it that our wayward friend was involved."

He stopped and looked at the young woman who was staring at him now. "What, I can use computers. I'm not that old."

"Okay, Ray." Alex grinned. "Whatever you say."

"Damn straight." He grumbled. "So, next stop, Arizona. Pack your bags."

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"Sir." The young watcher ran to catch up with his superior. He ran as distinguishedly as he could after his leader. "Sir. I have the latest report."

The well-dressed man turned and looked at the young man that had ran after him. It was nearly late in the afternoon and he had an appointment for tea with a potential sponsor. An appointment he didn't want to be late for. He stopped in front of one of the large windows and looked out on the grounds of the estate. "Well, out with it, young man."

"She's ready, sir." Gary Wilkinson said, coming to a stop. His tie was hanging loosely from his shirt, though he straightened it in front of his superior. It didn't really help that much. He still looked very much like the messy geek that he had been. Pulled up from the archives section, he had little practical experience. Still, he was useful, in his own way. At least, when it came to couriering messages and looking things up in old dusty texts. "I talked to the mages, and they say that, well, that she's ready. Sir."

"Very good." The man turned around, hiding his disgust at the younger man. With the destruction of the Council it was so hard to find good help. Most of the potential candidates had been taken in by the disgustingly named, New Watchers's Council. As if a disgraced watcher and a disgraced renegade slayer were deserving enough to call their organization by that name. It was enough to turn his stomach. "You may go."

"Yes, sir," The young Wilkinson replied, grateful that he hadn't been reprimanded. "Thank you, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce."

Roger started walking again, heading towards his car. After the disaster involving his son and Wolfram and Hart, he had started taking a more active role in rebuilding the true Watchers' Council. It was a small boon that he had not gone down himself and instead a magicked cyborg and been sent in his stead. Still, if he had been there he was sure that things could have gone as planned.

Alas, that was not to be.

All he could do was work. And, prepare.

End Part One

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Xander Harris will return in...Mind Game