Time Frame: A decade after both BtVS & AtS finales.

Rating: T-Mature (cuz Faith still curses like a sailor)

This story contains several gay relationships, consider yourselves forewarned.

Pairings: as of the moment B/F, D/X and Wes/Ill are planned. More may eventually follow.

Final Note: This is my first fan-fic, reviews, beta reads and constructive criticism are all welcome.

Legalities: All B:tVS characters are that of the Mighty Whedon and his glorious intellect. This work is meant only in celebration and nothing ulterior.

Chapter 15 - A Call to War

The warehouse work yard she crossed was lit by bright moonlight, it's pale, white shine accompanied the frigid winter night. Jessie moved as fast as she could while still carefully carrying Emma's blood soaked and limp form. The young slayer's breath came out in thick white clouds as she hot-stepped it over the asphalt. Emma's breathing was shallow and ragged, the erratic clouds of her breath came out in short puffs.

Past a chain-link fence, and onto the street, she spotted their car with Wendy by the open trunk, hastily trying to gearing up. The watcher was strapping on a Kevlar vest, a pistol was already on her waist and a shotgun on her back. The armor and the firearms were a heavy contrast the office clothes she normally wore. She must have received the emergency signal that Denise surely sent out. The older woman saw Jessie approach with Emma in tow. She grabbed a first aid kit in the trunk and rushed to the two slayers, the Velcro straps on the vest flapped as she moved.

"What's happened?" She asked, as they gently laid Emma to the cold concrete ground. Wendy took some gauze from the out of the kit and used it to staunch the profuse bleeding from Emma's stomach wound. The urgency in her voice was clear.

"Ambush. There were two of 'em. They got to Emma before we even knew they were around. When they came at us, Denise told us to fall back. Hanna went at them instead, tried to delay 'em so we could get out of there. Then, Denise stayed back to cover her." Jessie answered mechanically, her eyes stayed on her injured comrade.

"Someone should be coming soon, the Big Board sent a heads up a second ago." Wendy looked up after she received no reply from her slayer, tears started to stream down her face. The girl's chin quivered as her panic finally overrode her training.

"And, and then they just threw her at us, she, she she was bleeding so much. There's blood all over her." She stuttered, her face contorted thick with recent memory. Escaping strands of frizzy hair shot out beneath her black knit hat and balaclava as she shook her head. Heavy white streams of breath jetted from her open mouth as Jessie choked out a sob.

"Jessie!" The girl's wide eyes went to Wendy, her focus returned. The girl looked shaken, her eyes were wet and her breathing was erratic, but the tears stopped. Wendy continued speaking when she was sure she had the teen's attention.

"I need you to keep pressure on this wound, she's losing too much blood." The orders were calm but grave. Jessie took over pressing the gauze to Emma's stomach, the skinny slayer was pale and her breath was shallow. Her midsection wet with blood and guts. The white gauze quickly turned red with blood. Jessie's slow burning panic began to overcome her. Tears streamed down as Wendy went to the first-aid kit for pain killers.

"Someone will come." Wendy assured her sternly.

A few agonizing minutes later a breeze grew into a steady gust. Crackles of white lightning danced in the air for a moment and then space itself split like torn paper. Two figures emerged from the bright portal. A woman who had corn silk blonde hair and a green pallor to her skin, she wore a heavy coat with thick denim jeans stepped out first then an young man wearing a puffy winter coat and khaki slacks. Both wore heavy boots for the cold weather.

"Joey!" Jessie exclaimed seeing her boyfriend, besides him was the Emissary of the Copse. The young warlock and the flower-girl rushed over to Wendy, Jessie and Emma.

"We got the code. Situation?" The southerner asked as Jessie got up and rushed into his arms for an embrace, hugging him with her blood soaked hands. Having more healing magicks than Joey, the Emissary knelt over Emma, examining the injured slayer. Wendy spoke first.

"Gut wound, pretty deep. She's already lost a lot of blood. Denise and Hanna are still inside." Wendy reported to the newcomer.

The Emissary nodded. "I can repair most of this damage, but it will take a good portion of my power." She placed her palms over the Emma's stomach and a soft green glow surrounded her small hands. The energy rippled out then, it seeped into the injured girl's body.

"I'm gonna head in there." Joey declared, indicating the warehouse, his southern drawl thick as he spoke. The warlock looked to Jessie. "Back me up." She nodded and with that, the pair turned and headed back into the building with Jessie's short form leading the way. Wendy stayed crouching by her injured slayer.

"Be careful!" Wendy called to them, though she knew she did not have to remind the two. The glow from the Emissary's hands lit her face with the emerald light. "Is there anything I can do?" The watcher asked the flower-girl, feeling a little useless.

"Hold me up when I fall." The green girl's shoulders slumped and she looked like she was about to faint. Wendy placed herself behind the Emissary and propped up the waifish fae keeping her on task. Slim green hands stayed over the wound. The Emissary began shivering as though cold, but her hands stayed in place. Gritting her teeth, the green girl made a strangled cry as she collapsed backwards into Wendy.

Suddenly, Emma coughed hard and gave a pained moan. Her eyes opened, focusing she felt the cold on her cheeks and realized she was outdoors. "They're here!" She shot up and immediately winced in pain. Her hand went to her stomach, there was still a great deal of blood all over her, though the wound had closed into an ugly pink scar. "Ugh, that really sucked."

"Please, try to not to move, your injuries are still fresh." the Emissary tiredly advised.

"Sary? What are you doing here?" Emma asked the green girl in confusion, who gave her a wane smile. "Where are the other girls?"

"You got ambushed, whats the last thing you remember?" Wendy told the slayer, seeing the girl in her arms was having a hard time speaking after the magicks she performed. Emma squinted trying to bring up the memory and her eyes went wide with revelation.

"There were two hostages, I grabbed them and tried to get them somewhere safe. I turned my back and then felt like I got stabbed through." She recalled. "Shit, those two girls, the hostages, it was them wasn't it?"

"I don't know, Jessie went back with Joey to check on Hanna and Denise."

"Joey's here too?"

"Denise spit out a distress signal, the Council sent them." Wendy told the injured slayer, whose panic grew hearing her.

"We were the first to arrive, more will follow." the Emissary soothed. Emma only nodded as the sound of Wendy's mobile phone rang. Of course there were more coming, though the same could be said about the enemy, Emma grimly thought.

Wendy' cellular phone rang.

Jacob was freaking out. He was alone at the Angel Investigations offices remotely monitoring the slayers as they cleared a vampire nest. The computer screen he sat in front of him flashed an angry red. 'EMERGENCY' blinked at him over and over. Contacting the local Big Board station confirmed the distress signal sent by Denise and that back-up was on the way.

This was supposed to be a milk-run, an easy job to clear out a small vamp nest. What could have possibly went wrong? No one was returning his calls or texts, which served to only compound Jacob's worry. A groan of frustration erupted from the back of Jacob's throat. "Where are you guys?" he muttered to himself.

More signals showed up on the screen. The monitor showed two newcomers had arrived on the warehouse property where the Wendy and the squad were. Jake read off the names, he Emissary, whom he knew well and Joseph Bandemer, a name that was familiar to Jacob but did not know personally. Wasn't he the southern kid that Jessie was going out with? Two strong spell casters had just arrived onto the scene which only affirmed the young watcher's dread. Undeniably now, something very bad had definitely happened. He tried Wendy's cell phone again. Two rings and the woman's voice answered.

"Oh, thank god." Jacob breathed out. "What happened? Are you guys okay?"

"The girls were ambushed." Wendy explained calmly. Jacob had always admired his partner's ability to keep her head level.

"Was it..." Jacob did not finish his question before Wendy answered.

"Demons." His partner told him over the receiver. A cold chill ran over Jacobs's forearms giving him goose bumps, they've been warned of this. A companywide bulletin was sent about this exact thing; attacks when it was least expected, monster spring out from the dark.

"Is everyone okay?" Jacob asked tentative.

"Emma was hurt pretty badly, and Jessie went back in to check on Denise and Hanna." The older watcher answered.

"Damn." Jacob's worry heightened. "How is she?"

"Fine now that Sary's here." Wendy used the Emissary's nickname among the other slayers she had spent time with since acclimating to the modern world.

"Okay, I'm gonna get in contact with the local coven, set up a cleanup in the meantime." the young man relayed, trying keep his head by following procedure. After any demon attack with slayers involved, there was always a mess left to take care of in its aftermath.

"Oh, shit." Wendy exclaimed over the receiver. Jacob felt his panic returning.

"What is it? What's wrong?" He nearly yelled into the his phone.

"Jake, get more healers here fast. Sary can't do anymore spells."

"What's happening?"

"It's Denise, she's..."

"What's happened, Wendy? What is it?" He yelled.

"She lost her arm and...just a get a god damned healer here now, Jake!" Wendy shouted through the receiver and hung up not waiting for a response. Immediately, the young watcher's fingers danced over the keyboard before him, inputting the code for needing a healer on his squad's premises, and began dialing for his local relay station. Promptly a woman's voice calmly answered, there was no ringing.

"Big Board, Cleveland."

"Turner, Jacob. Watcher. I need more healers on a nest clearing. Something went wrong." The young man's voice was shaky with panic and fear.

"We got your message. Wicca units are 'porting over to their location now with healers." Jacob breathed a sigh. "Please await further instructions." and the line went dead.

Jacob crumpled into his seat. That was all he could do. Who knows what was happening over there and he was on monitoring duty, Wesley was out with Illyria doing God knows what for the Council and this was all he could do. A frustrated breath escaped his body. He put his head in his hands, hoping the young girls he had grown to call friends were alright and the feeling of worthlessness draped over him like a thick winter coat.

Three days later...

Wendy sat in her family's kitchen watching her mug of black coffee slowly turn warm. Early morning sunlight streamed through from the window over the sink. Bright rays struck marble counter tops making them gleam, casting a soft light in the space where Wendy's family ate. A black suit jacket was worn over a white blouse, and a black skirt matched her top. The woman was so deep within her own thoughts she did not hear her middle child, Jane, tromping down the stairs in her pajamas, a motif of moons and stars on her sleeping clothes. The girl went to the pantry and grabbed a box of cereal, then a bowl from the cupboards. From the fridge, she poured milk over the frosted flakes.

Seeing her mother dressed in all black, Jane did not think twice before asking "Jeez, mom, whose funeral are you headed to?"

Wendy only gazed into her black coffee for a moment, then finally, to her daughter who now joined her at the table as the teen munched her breakfast.

"Her name was Hanna Kim." Jane froze mid-bite, her face showed her deep apology. A spoon dropped into a bowl of cereal.

"God, I'm so sorry." her daughter said sincerely, embarrassed by her own words. "I'm sorry, I thought that you were just..."

"I know, it's okay." Wendy assured soothingly. Jane did not seem to feel better for it.

"My mouth really is always faster than my brain, huh?" Jane mumbled, abashedly as she moved bits of cereal around in her bowl with her recovered spoon. Her mother gave her a forgiving smile.

"She was a senior at the school I work for." Wendy told her daughter, sadly. The teen's dirty blonde hair seemed brighter in the morning light. Her mother did not look up from her black coffee.

"What was she like?" The daughter asked, Wendy remained silent for a few moments. Then, finally looking up a with a face filled grieving nostalgia, Wendy spoke.

"She was kind of goofy, always said the silliest things, sometimes not on purpose." A sad smile covered her face as she remembered the fallen slayer. Wendy's daughter listened silently as her mother reminisced. "And she was so sweet, anytime there were cookies in the office kitchen she'd tell everyone as quickly as she could to make sure everyone had some." Wendy gave a tight smile, and a few tears ran down her eyes. Jane got up and hugged her mother.

"And she was very, very brave." Wendy said softly as she hugged her daughter back.

Lynn awoke in Jacob's bed alone. She arrived yesterday afternoon after a twelve hour drive with Gina from Manhattan to Cleveland. While Gina stayed at the Angel Investigations office, she spent the night in Shaker Heights with Jacob.

The morning winter chill left the bedroom colder than the slayer liked so she grabbed a bright red Ohio State University shirt, it was Jacob's and so it was over-sized on her. Her naked form now covered, she left the room in search of her boyfriend. The carpet was warm beneath her feet as she padded down the stairs to an empty living room.

Books that once occupied the floor in numerous stacks were now neatly organized into the heavy wooden book shelves that lined the walls. The room looked like a small library. Lynn smiled at the memory of Jacob's gleeful face as one of his biggest goals in life was achieved. A large desk was positioned near the threshold, the seat where Jacob did most of his writing was empty, but the computer in front of it was still on.

She headed to the kitchen and found the young watcher sitting at the table and was already dressed for the funeral. A well-tailored suit of black gave him a severe air, yet he looked good despite the somber attire. One of the things she loved about her boyfriend was how well dressed he always tried to be, and though his Council salary allowed him some allowance with his spending, he was still very frugal about his purchases, looking for sales deals whenever and where ever he could. The couple once drove an hour out to an outlet mall just because Jacob saw a great deal on tailored suits there. Lynn smiled seeing him, he saw her enter and he gave her one back, though it was obviously forced.

"Hey, cutie." She quietly greeted him, not wanting to break the morning hush. Bending over over to give him a peck on his cheek allowed him ample view of her bare breasts beneath the large shirt, it did little to lift his morose state.

"Hey, mornin'." He said kissing her back. She crouched before him so she could look into his downcast eyes. Lynn took his hands into her own and studied them for a moment. Dark skin contrasted her own light complexion as she interlaced their fingers together. His hands were large but soft, while her own were much smaller but much rougher; calloused after years of weapon handling. She looked past her boyfriend's hands to his face, she studied him and saw the pain clearly.

"It wasn't your fault." She assured him.

"I know."

"That doesn't make you feel better, though." Lynn stated and Jacob gave her a weak nod affirming her words. The slayer frowned at her boyfriend whose eyebrows knitted together. Jacob stayed silent for a long moment staring at the worried young woman before him.

"How many?" He asked of her in a gentle voice. The question made Lynn scowl.

"Knowing that's not going to make you feel better either." She told him as she stood.

"I still wanna know." His voice remained soft as he looked up at her. The shirt she wore barely covered her, leaving her long legs exposed to the morning light. It was cold in the kitchen, Jacob kept his thermostat low at night to help prevent a high gas bill an had yet to turn it up. He reached around Lynn's waist and pulled her into a hug, hoping to give some of his warmth to the barely dressed slayer. Softly, she caressed his head with the back of her hands, Jacob's course hair was rough at her touch.

He asked last night, and she managed to avoid answering each time he did. Changing subjects when she could, distracting him with office talk, and when words were no longer enough, she used kisses to silence his inquiry, and finally her body to dodge the question. There was no avoiding now.

"Too many." She answered, barely louder than a whisper. Jacob looked at her, the hitch in her voice let him hear her sadness. "Every slayer that's died since I've started, every watcher, every witch that we lose, that's too many."

She gazed down into his brown eyes and lightly touched his face with her fingertips. She used them to trace his jaw line then bent down to kiss him full on the lips. Lovingly, she deepened it, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He kissed her back softly, sweetly but sadly. She pulled back breaking their intimacy and placed another kiss, lightly, on his forehead.

"I'm going to get ready now." She told him as she disentangled herself from Jacob's embrace. She turned and left the kitchen, leaving Jacob alone with his grief.

Emma openly wept. Tears ran down her face like rivers. Hanna's funeral was attended by many. Friends, family, and Council members sat somberly in the small Presbyterian Church. Besides her sat the Chief herself, Buffy Summers Lehane and her wife found the squad and sat beside the young slayers. Emma was once told that the Chief always attended local funerals for the fallen slayers, which Hanna now was. All the girls who died on the job were considered fully ranked slayers. Being a part of the Council, it was the fastest way to get a promotion for a slayer.

Down the pew sat her surviving squad-mates and watchers. Wendy and Jacob dressed conservatively in tailored suits. Slayers wore a general uniform of a black shirt, fatigues and boots, others wore simple dresses. Emma noticed more than a few of the local wiccans bore an almost Victorian theme to their black clothing, including Willow Rosenberg who sat near the back with Xander Harris and Charles Gunn. Wendy's psychiatrist, Dr. Riley was also in attendance, he sat next to Illyria. Even Gina and Lynn came from New York for the funeral, wanting to support their former squad-mates. Wesley though, was missing. His absence was keenly felt among his slayers and fellow watchers alike.

"They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow."

Giles was behind the wooden pulpit speaking by the casket. Besides it stood a large picture of Hanna smiling out at a grieving crowd. The dead slayer's parents sat in the front, her father sobbing piteously. The rest of the family's tears flowed down like torrents as the old watcher began reciting an old poem. Another hard sob from the front pew and Giles continued.

"They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe."

Denise sat at the very end of the pew, crossing her arms across her chest. Jessie and Joey got to her the night of the attack in the nick of time, she almost died from the blood loss. Instead, she was dug out from underneath a dead demon fast enough, giving the young Georgian warlock time to stem her blood loss, which allowed arriving healers to reattach her severed limb. Despite being told not to, the squad-leader could not help but to scratch at the scar a little.

"They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn."

Emma turned her head and looked over to Jessie who had an arm wrapped around her waist and was crying on her shoulder. Besides her was Wendy, who was stoic but let the tears run easy. Jacob was a wreck, blowing his nose into wads of tissue and being consoled by Lynn. Turning her head to the other side, Emma watched Buffy's fist tighten, and her jaw clench, a her face was watery and Faith gave her a some tissues.

"In the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them."

Emma's old headmaster recited that poem at every funeral. She choked down a sob that threatened to escape her control. The skinny crying slayer wanted to let it all out now but that was for later, when she was alone. For now, she would stay strong for Hanna, the ditzy Korean girl who was with her every step of the way. From potentials to junior-slayers, and when Emma could not step forward, Hanna carried her, defended her, and then died for her. For now she allowed herself to only weep softly as a promise to follow Hanna's example. The casket was closed and carried out, it's pallbearers were all slayer.

The funeral procession went on uneventfully. At the graveside, Council members sat at one side and Hanna's family on the other. As the coffin was lowered, Buffy recited a slayer's farewell.

"Hanna Kim, Slayer."

"We will remember you." the Council portion responded as one, some of Hanna's family joined along.

"Hanna Kim, She slayed an uncountable amount of vampires. She fought at the Battle of Robin's Nest. She protected fellow slayers, coven sisters and watchers during the slaying of the Old One called Nug.

"We will remember you."

Buffy moved aside and Hanna's mother, a handsome woman of gaining years, her eyes were watery and sad as she spoke. "Hanna Kim, daughter of Harry and Eunice. Sister of James and David. She loved cartoons, and Five Seconds of Summer."

"We will remember you." Slayers, witches, and watchers intoned.

Hanna's mother stepped back, allowing Buffy to continue. "Hanna Kim."

"Slayer, rest now, your battles are over."

"Hanna Kim."

"Sister, sleep now, the gift is given."

"Bye, Hanna" Emma, standing in the crowd of Council members, spoke quietly to herself.

Dark gray clouds descended over the cemetery. A chill February wind ran through the green but browning grass and swept up dry dead leaves into the late winter air. A marble headstone stood before the freshly filled grave, lonelier now that the mourners eventually filed away. Only four figures remained behind. Two tall men flanked two much smaller women; a blonde and a red-head. Garbed in black for the earlier funeral, they arrived together and would leave the same way. Down a path to the road, a woman with dark hair leaned against a black Oldsmobile parked on the road smoking another cigarette. Two passengers sat inside, talking quietly, though the young man of the two looked most distraught. The older woman besides him did her best to awkwardly comfort him.

"I hate this." Buffy mentioned, looking down on the grave where Hanna Kim's body lay.

"We all do." Xander murmured.

"This will never not hurt." Willow admitted.

"And so we shall not let her sacrifice go in vain." Giles insisted with a sigh. He remembered Hanna when she first arrived at the Summer's Academy, she was thirteen years old. When did she become a junior-slayer? When did she turn sixteen for that matter? A grimace and the old watcher spoke again. "She stood against two of those horrible things and held her own." Those monsters were stronger than a single slayer, to face a pair alone was a feat unto itself.

"The girl was tough." Willow reiterated with a sad.

"One of our best." Buffy acknowledged, knitting her brows. "When I heard she got transferred to Wes's squad, I was really proud of her."

"Her dad was pretty devastated when I delivered him the bad." Xander commented.

"Yeah." Buffy agreed with a frown.

"We need to go and meet with the family soon, discuss Hanna's death benefits." Giles softly reminded. And gradually they turned back to the path that led to their car.

Xander's single eye caught that Buffy's pair were on the vehicle ahead, more likely, on one of it's passengers. Jacob sat in the back next to Wendy, the kid sure was taking this hard.

"It's his first, and at least he's just letting it out and not totally freaking out." Xander pointed out with a little nudge. Buffy was comforted by the fact that he knew what she was feeling.

"Or not show up to the funeral at all." Willow mumbled to herself, still annoyed at Wesley's absence.

"I just really hate that he's having to deal with any of this stuff at all. I wish that he wouldn't and just leave it to us instead." Buffy started becoming emotional again. "And I know I was sort of okay with it after Jake pitched in with that stupid Old One, and I don't know why, but I still can't get past it." Buffy teared up and Willow gathered the woman in her arms and into a hug which Xander then, of course, joined in. Giles simply stood and watched his children console one another, proud of the support they gave each other in these times.

"Aww, honey, it's okay. You're really protective, that's just how you are." the red-head consoled her best-friend adding a hug and strong squeeze to the blonde's shoulder.

"It's more than that." Buffy exhaled with a small sob. Xander kissed the tops of the two women's heads; it was a simple but comforting gesture.

"It's 'cuz he reminds you of us." The watcher spoke knowingly. Both women looked to the one-eyed man. "He's got the G-man's fancy schooling and degrees." Xander cocked his head back at the older watcher. "He's super brainy like the Willmiester here." Willow made a modest face. "And..." the one-eyed man drew out the word theatrically, "he's goofy and nerdy like your friendly neighborhood Xand-man." Xander Harris proclaimed, grinning sadly.

Buffy looked up at one of her best friends and she felt better. Resting her head on Willow's shoulder and breathed in deep. "He's got your heart, not your goofiness. Only Xander could have Xander-level goofiness. And he's loyal and kind and brave."

"Well then there you go, he's all of us. And you've seen what we've all been through. We've all suffered." Xander added quietly. "I get why you'd wanna keep him away from all of that."

"But he was right. On stage at the housewarming, when he stood up to you? It was the same as when Xander refused to be sidelined when you were in your teens." Giles explained to a hesitantly agreeing Buffy.

"Yeah, it's his choice." She agreed, annoyed at the idea. They approached the waiting car and Buffy broke off from from the other three to go to her wife, who threw away her cigarette to gather the little blonde woman into a tight hug.

"You good?" Faith asked quietly into her ear with genuine concern. Buffy, eyes still misty from emotion, nodded and kissed her wife.

"Could be better." The Slayer replied with a wan smile. The others were already stating inside the vehicle when the two broke their embrace. The two climbed into the front of the car with Faith at the wheel, and they drove off.

Still garbed in clothes from the funeral, Illyria wore the glamour of Winifred Burkle as she entered the seedy dive bar. It was near empty as it was just barely half past noon. Striding towards a tired looking bartender, they caught eyes and he flinched at her expression.

"He's in the last booth." he told her, throwing a thumb in a direction further into the near filthy establishment. As Illyria continued towards her purpose, the bartender called from behind. "If he breaks anything, he's gotta pay for it." He was ignored.

Reaching a dirtier corner of the bar, she found her Qwa'ha Xhan slumped into the corner of cushioned booth. A wall of shot glasses and beer mugs occupied the table space before him. The Englishman looked over to the demon wearing a human illusion, looking like his long dead lover. The Old One wore a black blouse and black skirt, she looked like Fred and it no longer hurt as it much as it used to.

"You are inebriated." she observed with a tone of annoyance.

"No, my dear, the correct term is 'smashed.'" The watcher drunkenly corrected. Illyria was not amused.

"You did not attend the funeral. Many asked for you." the Old One told him, there was no accusation in her tone.

"I am sure they did." Wesley managed to roll his eyes.

"You should have come."

"I know."

"But you did not."

"I know."

A pause was made between demon and watcher, neither spoke for a moment. The demoness looked over the Englishman, her high-priest. His drunken state, his rumpled clothes and unshaven face did little to well represent her.

"Do you love me, Illyria?" The watcher's question caught the Old One off guard. Her lip quirked downward when she heard the slur in his speech. She could smell the alcohol wafting off from him as he spoke. She could see it as well, to her it was like breath in the winter air.

"Your alcoholism is becoming unmanageable, Wesley." She observed, Wesley only snorted in reply. After long pause, with Illyria standing by the table, Wesley finally lifted his dark brown eyes to gaze at Illyria's icy blue ones. "I will take you home now, the girls are waiting there."

"Illyria," He pressed, there was a hazy look in his eyes and the stubble on his face made and his rumpled black suit made him look almost homeless. "do you love me?"

"You disappoint me. You shame your students." The words were spoken firmly, her voice was filled with frustration. "You are supposed to be a leader to your slayers, especially at times such as this, but instead you choose to wallow. You show them weakness when you should show them strength. This is not what the Qwa'ha Xhan of Illyria is capable of, this is not how a watcher of the Council behaves." Wesley was unmoved by the harshness, he only continued to stare at her expectantly.

"And..." she turned away as though ashamed of saying it aloud, "I will always love you." the Old One conceded. Wesley smiled a little.

"I love you too." Wesley told her as he got up and out from the booth. Illyria seemed angry hearing the words. He was taller than her and she tilted her head upwards to look at him.

"You love this shell." she countered bitterly, her voice raised slightly.

"I did once, but she died, Illyria." Wesley soothed. He took her small hands, clasping them in his own. "I love you." She looked deep into his eyes. Though still obviously drunk, there was clarity in them now, there was sincerity.

"Come home now, Wesley." Illyria commanded softly to her lover and she let him lean on her as they walked out the bar.

Expensive high-definition screens lined opposite walls of the seated slayers. The walls of the school auditorium rang out as wooden gavel clapped loudly on its base. A large crowd of slayers seated before a slight blonde fell silent. A slayers-only assembly had been called for Cleveland. Slayers and potentials traveled from all over the state to attend. There would also be a worldwide teleconference with senior slayers. With the private school located near downtown Cleveland, it was easy for slayers in the vicinity to attend. Wesley's team of slayers sat in the middle, easily unnoticed in the crowd of so many others. Nearly all girls in attendance were local slayers or students from the Summers School for Girls, which trained potentials.

A digital camera, its thick square and coned lens was mounted on a tripod a short distance in front of her. A USB cord tethered the HD camcorder to a laptop that connected to the school's wi-fi which broadcast a live stream to high-ranking slayers whose faces populated the split-screen images on the mounted plasma televisions. Buffy banged the gavel. Her hair tight in a bun, the Slayer had the very look of a politician, though she felt like more like a school principal.

"Okay," she spoke into the microphone "so, straight to it." She eyed the crowd from her place on stage behind a podium. Eyes stared back at her as a near blinding light from above shone down on her. "The bad; from now on, all age requirements for ranks are raised by three years." The youngest of the seated slayers erupted like an angry volcano. Buffy continued with the announcements. "Age for junior-slayer status is raised from sixteen to nineteen." Loud jeers were thrown from the back, the Slayer became incensed but strove on. "Full slayer status is raised from eighteen to twenty-one. Age for patrol sign-ups is now sixteen and now require 'A' ratings for heavy armor, first-aid, and advanced CQC " Boos were thrown at Buffy as she banged her gavel, while calling for order.

A tall dark skinned slayer got up from her seat and the crowd quieted down enough to hear her. "C'mon, Chief! That's so unfair, why are we being punished?" she yelled from where she stood. A chorus of 'yeahs' called near her.

"No one's being punished, this is a Council-wide decision that's been in the works for nearly three years among senior slayers, senior watchers and coven mothers." Buffy called back easily. A bunch of other slayers stood up wanting to ask direction questions. Buffy pointed her gavel at one of them, a small brunette.

"I trained all month for my full slayer trials tomorrow, now you're telling me I have to wait another three years to get it?"

"We're going to allow junior-slayers of this year to still take trial for full rank but after this year that change goes into full effect."

"Like, why weren't we kept in the loop about like, such a huge decision? I thought we like, get a say in that stuff." The San Fernando Valley accent was loud and clear, but that didn't easily dismiss the seriousness of her question. Normally slayers were always kept informed of any change to the regulation of the their side of Council education beforehand. This fostered discussion and new ideas, it gave every slayer the chance voice their opinions. The loose republic that the slayers handled themselves by was a mostly informal thing, but it was always taken very seriously. Xander once described it as the Klingon High Council but with less duels to the death and more girly talk.

"You totally are!" Buffy implored.

"Then answer the question!" A voice called from the crowd, followed by others.

Loud 'yeahs!' were rebuked by other slayers defending Buffy. 'Let her finish!' cried slayers from around the heckler.

"Bad form! Bad form!" admonished UK slayers on the digital screens. The gavel banged again until the crowd quieted.

"This isn't exactly about just slayers! Please, just let me explain!" Buffy half-commanded her sister-slayers, a CLACK CLACK of the gavel gave room to silence. "The whole Council, were going on the defensive, and this is part of it." Every slayer in the became intent on listening to the strongest of them speak. "We're short handed watchers and potentials are coming in faster then we can handle. Part of the new change is that there's going to be new mentoring requirements."

A murmuring came from the crowd, the hostility seemed to bleed out hearing the last part.

"Which brings us to the good news." Buffy began. "All age restrictions made are lowered for every girl you bring up to rank or qualify for patrol. If you're a junior-slayer trying to get full status, getting potentials trained and qualified for patrol will allow you to test for slayer sooner. If you are a senior in training and you help train juniors, you can test for junior-slayer sooner. Same goes for all the other ranks, the more you help other girls, the faster you can help yourselves." she looked out to the crowd, they still murmured but many were quietly nodding, agreeing to the new ideas.

"Things are not getting easier out there, ladies." She let the words reverberate out across the sea of slayers before her, with the recent deaths from the past year no one could argue. "Our watchers are being killed, our people are being picked off when we least expect, and these things are coming out of nowhere to get at us. We need to do more to protect each other. We need to train harder, be more vigilant. Right now, something is out to get us and it seems to know when and where we are the most vulnerable. They know how strong we are so they come at us from our blindsides."

"You've read the reports, seen the bulletins; some big bad is gunning for us," she announced, mustering up as much of her generalissimo side as she could, "and I say let them come!" Buffy declared boldly. Loud yeah's came from the crowd. "I say let them come because we are going to ready for them when they do." More slayers yelled their agreements. "Our slayers are going to be stronger and better trained, our witches are going to better versed in magicks and our watchers are going to have researched them and know every weakness they have."

"Let them come!" Buffy called to the crowd, who cheered their support. "We are going to be ready for them, and when they finally come at us face to face," the Slayer breathed in deep, "we are going to rip their fucking hearts out!" The rallied slayers called out their support. The ones on the television screens visibly applauded.

"These guys want a fight? Well, were going to give it to them and more! Ladies, starting tonight, we are going to war! So, let them come!" And the crowd sprang to their feet with a wild cheer. Buffy felt their energy surge onto her skin from their spirited whooping. In that moment the Slayer knew, her people, her students, her girls would be prepared for whatever was to come next.

End of Book I

A/N: The piece recited during the funeral is called 'Ode of Remembrance' from the poem 'For the Fallen' by Laurence Binyon.

A/N The Final: And so that's the first fan-fic I have ever written. I started this a year and two months ago on a whim and am somewhat pleased with the effort I have put in to it. I have never committed myself to any kind of project like this before and I am more than a little proud of myself for it. I'd also like to thank everyone that's, viewed, read, favorited, followed and reviewed this OC heavy monstrosity of my creation. Your support has kept me going, and as long as you want it, a sequel is sure to come.

Please, any constructive criticism on plot, structure, characterization, dialogue, and anything else that comes to mind that needs pointing out are welcome.

Again, thank you so much for reading.