DISCLAIMER:  We both know I don't own Buffy, Faith, or any of the other characters that are making Joss Whedon and his corporate sponsors/affiliates rich.  If I did, this whole college tuition thing would be much less of an issue.

      Also, this is my first Buffy fanfic, so be nice.

      ANTI-DISCLAIMER (would that be just a "claimer?"): Some of these characters ARE my own creation, as well as many elements of the setting.  Use your head.  If it never appeared in anywhere in the Kenshin series, then it's probably mine.  Not that anyone cares but me.

      SPOILERS/BACKGROUND:  Everything from Season 1 to Season 5 and Angel Season 1 to Season 2; this picks up after S5/S2.

            *           *           *           *           *

      CHAPTER 9:

      THE WELCOME PARTY

      The air rang with the brazen clash of steel on steel as Faith turned the Mohra Lord's lunge aside into the rear end of the car.  She had been hoping the shock would throw the weapon from its hands, but his grip was strong.  Nevertheless, the shock as the repelling field around Kate's car threw the weapon out of position was enough for Faith to press her advantage.  She scored two cuts in quick succession before he could recover his balance, which reassured Faith for a moment that they were vulnerable, but no more.  The creature did not appear to even feel it.

      They circled, hacked, parried, and dodged for several minutes, and Faith felt the fire that had burned in her when she had believed Janna had been hurt returning, only burning whiter, cleaner, this time.  Her blows were getting stronger and stronger, she realized, even though her body felt like it was getting tired.  It was like there was no connection between how she was feeling and how she was fighting.  She had vaulted over the thing's head three times already, once without even using anything else as a platform first, and was driving him here and there at will.  Her lips compressed as she watched his cuts heal; she remembered Janna saying that they regenerated, and apparently the Lord regenerated faster.  Then again, had it not been for that power, she would have left pieces of him flopping on the pavement well before now.  As it was, he didn't seem to be getting tired earlier.  It occurred to her that if adrenaline or whatever it was wasn't sustaining her, he might have left little pieces of her flopping on the pavement as well.

      The sound of Kate's car engine revving to life again reached Faith's ears, but she had no attention to spare, and neither did her opponent.  This turned out to be a good thing for Faith, as the Mohra Lord suddenly fell to one side as the car backed into him, throwing him to the pavement.  Kalia whirled and sparked, and for the first time, Faith saw the energy arc out behind her swing that the blade had done for Angel back in Los Angeles.  The Mohra Lord's head rolled away and nearly rolled down a storm drain.

      "Faith!  Get in!"  Janna's voice suddenly reached Faith's ears.

      Faith turned.  Janna was driving Kate's car.  She had eased the wounded Kate over to the passenger seat.  Faith grimaced.  That meant she was getting the back.  Well, there was no help for it.  At least Janna was in the driver's seat now.  She climbed in and shut the door behind her.

      "Don't wipe off Kalia!" Janna said just as Faith was about to start wiping the blade clean of the greenish-yellow blood on it.  It didn't seem to be damaging the blade any more than normal blood, but she wasn't about to take chances.

      "Not on my seats!" Kate groaned, though a lot of the fire seemed out of her.

      Janna grinned.  "Here, pass it around through here."  She indicated a narrow space between the side of the glass divider and the wall of the car.

      Puzzled, Faith handed the weapon up to Janna, hilt first, and she strained her arm around to clasp it.  After drawing it through, she held it in one hand as she drove.  "And a piece of your shirt, too, if you could."

      "Say what?"

      "Please, just trust me."

      Oh, what the hell, Faith thought.  Janna had bought the shirt for her anyway.  She tore off her right sleeve and handed it up to Janna.

      Janna immediately began wiping a little bit of blood off the blade, just as she had told Faith not to do.  Faith said as much, and Kate added in as strong a voice as she could muster, "I'd like to know … what you're doing … too."

      Janna's lips compressed.  "You're losing a lot of blood.  There's no time to get you to a hospital, and even if we could, that leg would never be right again."  She was moving her hand with the bloodied sleeve towards Kate's cut and bleeding leg.  Kate shied away.

      "Please," Janna tried to placate her.  "We trusted you when we were in your care.  Try to trust us, too.  We're on the same side."

      Kate's hand was moving towards the door latch.

      "If you do that," Janna said sternly, "I'll stop this car and we'll do this in the street.  Those things are still out there, and I'm not going to let you die."

      Kate clearly had forgotten about the demons out there, which showed how afraid of the blood she truly was.  Janna pointed to the red light on the dash that indicated the presence of the supernatural nearby to emphasize her point.  Eventually, Kate simply closed her eyes.

      Janna put the cloth with the blood against Kate's leg, taking advantage of a red light to give it all her attention for a moment.  She wrapped it once around and knotted it loosely, making sure as much of the blood as possible touched Kate's wound.  Kate gasped as Janna worked, and Faith leaned forward to watch.

      The cut began to contract immediately.  It was almost like watching her get wounded in reverse.  Kate felt it for a moment, then opened her eyes in vivid surprise.

      "Leave it on for a few minutes," Janna cautioned as they started to move again.  "Make sure it gets all the way to the bone."

      "That … blood will fix this?" Kate's voice was steadier already, and it was clear that she was not feeling any more than a fraction of the pain that she had a moment ago.

      Janna actually laughed.  "Mohra Lord blood?  If you know what you're doing with it, you can repair anything with it.  Watch."  She held up Kalia, and a sudden surge of power coursed down the blade.  Janna's eyes blazed, and the air in the car rippled.  Faith and Kate both closed their eyes.  When they opened them again, the formerly shattered front windshield looked brand new, and there wasn't a drop of blood anywhere on the front seat.

      "Wow."  It was the only thing Faith could think of to say. 

Janna grinned.  "Not really my specialty, but it gets easier with something like that."  She passed Kalia back to Faith.  There was not a drop of blood on it.

      "Ugh," Kate said.  "You realized you just wasted something that could heal fatal wounds on my windshield?"

      Faith shrugged impishly.  "That's all right.  We need more, I can always go get some."

      Kate actually smiled wanly, and shook her head, but Janna actually took the remark more seriously.

      "That's actually true," the Gypsy woman said.  "His knights will reattach his head shortly.  They probably already have."

      "All right, Frankenstein-ish much," Faith grimaced.

      "It's OK.  If you'd really killed it, more would have come."

      "Yeah, I heard that part.  So is there any way to kill them without tripping that little catch?"

      "Several, sort of.  The only permanent one is to keep them away from salt until they starve; they need a lot of it to survive.  That can be done, but it isn't easy around here, so near the coast.  They've probably got a lot stored around the city, too, if they plan on staying a while."

      "Wonderful."

      "Should be elementary for you, right?" Janna grinned.

      "Right."

      "Faith," Kate interrupted suddenly, turning back and meeting Faith's eyes with something other than suspicion for the first time.

      "Yeah?"

      "I'm sorry."

      Faith was silent for a moment, then a smile spread across her face.  "Me, too."

            *           *           *           *           *

      "Drakon, good to see you again!" Glory greeted the new arrival cheerfully, though of course she could have cared less whether he was alive or dead.

      "Great One, it has been some time.  Centuries."  The speaker was a tall batlike creature with dark brown and grey hide.

      "Is that all of you, then?" Glory asked.

      "More than likely," Hascinth answered quickly, surveying the demons assembled in the room.  There were nine of them altogether.  "Maybe a few stragglers will come in from other parts of the continent in a while."

      "Akhen-apep is dead," Drakon hissed.  "I saw him and his servants in a ditch on the way in."

      "Figures," Glory pouted.  "Oh well.  It was only an avatar, so there will be another before long."

      "And something else," Drakon added.  "There are Mohra demons in town.  A revenge squad."

      "Really?" Glory seemed genuinely interested.  "I might actually want to talk with them.  Or kill them.  Their blood could be helpful."

      "Dangerous game," one of the other demons, a doglike mass of black fur and fangs, snarled.

      "Really?" Glory repeated, though with far less interest.  Suddenly, she was standing behind the other creature, and he froze in fright, sure he had made a fatal mistake.  Glory simply walked two fingers up the side of his face, however.  "I'm dangerous, too, you know."

      "Of course, Your Eminence," the other demurred.  Glory was instantly back where she had been a moment earlier.

      "Could you see where they were staying?  Or going?" she asked.

      "They looked like they might have been going toward the Slayer's place."

      Glory threw up her hands.  "Why am I not surprised?  Man, that little blond bitch just gets on everyone's nerves, doesn't she?"

      "That little redheaded witch is living there now, too," another offered.  "Word is that she might be capable of taking out a Mohra or two."

      "Or ten," Glory corrected him with a shrug.  She went to the window, and looked out in the direction of the Summers home.  "Psion, what have you got for me"

      Another demon stepped forward from the crowd.  He was humanoid, but had metallic silver-blue skin and several crests of metallic flesh folding around his skull.  "I've only been here for three hours, Your Eminence," he said, "but I've already felt more power than I felt in three decades in Cleveland.  The air is alive with it."

      "Right.  How about the more specific version?"

      Psion stiffened momentarily, then visibly forced himself to relax again.  "Four major power surges since entering town," he said, "I could feel them with no help at all.  There's the power at the Slayer's house, which has Willow Rosenberg all over it.  She's a lot more powerful now than she was even at the time of the Slayer's supposed death.  Then there was one in the swanky area on the waterfront, I have no idea what that one was about.  The most recent was a little way from the Summers' house, in that neighborhood.  Maybe something to do with Drakon's Mohras.  Not as strong as the others.  The last was a summoning spell of some kind I've never seen or heard tell of before, at the library a little while before that."

      "What?" Glory said suddenly, clearly startled, and everyone in the room jumped back a step.

      "That was where I saw Apep," Drakon hissed.

      "Yes," Glory murmured, turning to look at the window.  "And he was going to get my Key."

      Psion suddenly seemed to understand what she was getting at; he was the most learned of the group, though none of them were ignorant.  "Your Eminence?  Are you suggesting … the Key is becoming self-aware?"

      "That's not possible," Glory said, wheeling around, though even those in the room who had no idea what she was talking about could tell that that Psion had guessed precisely what she was thinking.  "The Key can't think.  It's a tool.  A thing.  It doesn't matter what it looks like.  All it is a little green ball of energy.  That bleeds and whines a lot, now, but nothing more."

      "Maybe I should have a closer look into whatever spell those monks used to give it form," Psion said.

      "No maybe.  Do it," Glory said.  Psion bowed and left the room.

      "All right, gentlemen, time to get to work," Glory said cheerfully.  "You two, go find out about whatever it was he was talking about near the shore.  You two, take the disturbance near the Summers' house.  You three, find those Mohras and let them know I'd like to have a little chat with them, and maybe eat one or two of them for dinner.  I'll take the library myself.  Hascinth?"

      "Yes?" he asked, inserting as an afterthought, "Your Eminence?"

      "Stay here and hold down the fort.  I'm expecting someone, so I'd like someone to be here to meet him.  But if you have time, there's a little convenience store on the corner and we're out of coffee."

      Hascinth seethed.  "Yes, Your Eminence," he grated, obviously feeling rather humiliated for an elite assassin.

      Glory's face became even more ditzy, if that were possible, but her words carried a deadly serious message behind them.  "Just keep in mind that you failed me once," she reminded him.

            *           *           *           *           *

      "This is taking too long," Angel breathed restlessly.

      "Don't worry about it, these things take time," Buffy reassured him.

      "Uh … actually, he may have a point," Tara interjected hesitantly.  "It never usually takes this long for Willow to find someone, particularly someone she knows, especially if they're powerful."

      "See?"

      "OK, new girl, not helping here."

      Tara lowered her eyes.  "Sorry."

      "I think we should go out and look for her."

      Buffy threw up her hands.  "And where would you start?"

      Angel shrugged.  "Just back along the path we took from the freeway to here."

      "That may not be such a good idea, you know," Tara answered.  "You know, if Glory's minions are still out there …"

      "… Then we need to make sure Faith and Jenny get here before Glory comes up from L.A.," Angel finished.

      Tara sighed, and shook her head nervously.

      The sound of Willow's bedroom door opening upstairs diverted their attention.  One look at Willow's expression told them that not all had gone as planned.

      "I don't understand it.  I can't find them anywhere."

      "Could that mean they're …?"  Angel left the question hanging in the air; there was no need to finish it.

      Willow shook her head.  "I think I'd have felt it if something like that happened.  There are power surges all over Sunnydale right now, though, I haven't ever felt anything like it—which is saying something in this town.  It's … I guess it's like it's interfering with the reception."

      "I'm going," Angel said flatly, grabbing his coat from the couch.

      "Wait, all right, fine, then I'm coming with you," Buffy called.

      "Buffy, someone needs to stay here and protect the others."  There was no doubt that he was referring to one specific other in particular.

      Buffy eased over to him slowly as though acquiescing.  Suddenly, she twisted, and before Angel knew what had hit him, he was on his knees with an arm pinned behind his back, and Buffy's other arm around his neck.

      "All right listen, you brooding hero," she grated into his ear.  "If those two really have run into something that a Slayer really can't handle by herself, just what exactly did you plan on doing without me?"

      The others in the room had all taken a few steps back, and half were looking at her with stunned faces, but Buffy noticed, to her surprise, a veiled spark of approval in the eyes of group that had come up with Angel, even from Cordelia.

      "All right, fine, I don't have time to argue, let's just go," Angel resigned.

      "If you'd continued arguing, you'd have ended up having to make time," Buffy answered, releasing him.

      "I'd come, but Giles and Wesley should be all set up for the next protection ritual by now," Willow added.

      "No, Will, it's fine, keep it up … unless you're getting burned, in which case, don't kill yourself.  Keep an eye on Dawn.  She'll probably need another cup of chai here in a few minutes."

      Willow grinned.  "I'll take care of it.  Go get Jenny."

            *           *           *           *           *

      "Are you sure they aren't tracking us?" Kate asked.

      "I can't feel anything.  I think they've fallen back for the moment.  The captain will need time to get back to full strength.  I think."

      "You think?"

      Janna pointed at the magic-detector on Kate's dashboard.  "There's so much power in the air right now, it's hard to make heads or tails of what's going on.  Of course, they'll be having the same trouble."

      "They're not on us," Faith reaffirmed.  "I think my spider-sense works differently.  At least, I don't feel out of whack, anyway."

      "I believe you," Janna agreed.

      "What about tracking us … some other way?" Kate's implication was fairly clear.

      Janna shook her head.  "I cloaked the car.  Add that to all the other things going on around here, and it would take an oracle to find us that way right now."

      "Then why is the reading getting stronger?"

      "Eh?"

      "That," she said, pointing at a blue gauge on the dash.

      Janna's brow furrowed as she looked at it.  "It does look like something's getting closer, doesn't it?"

      Faith's hand tightened around the hilt of Kalia.

      "I'm going to pull over," Janna said.  "Miss Lockley, can you drive?"

      "I … sure," Kate answered.

      "I'm going to need to concentrate.  I'll take the back.  Faith, you look like you're a little antsy being back there, you take the front."

      Kate looked a little antsy herself at that, but made no objection.  They did a Chinese fire drill and took their new seats.  Faith turned around to watch Janna, whose eyes were growing distant.  Kate already had the map to the Summers' house on the monitor, and was only too glad to accept when Janna asked that they proceed a little more slowly for a few minutes.

      "I'll take the side streets in," she said.  "We'll get there from the other side."  She clearly wanted attention to spare for her own equipment in the front seat.  She was apparently not completely ready to trust the Gypsy woman or the Slayer yet.

      They did not speak to each other for another few minutes.  Faith fidgeted with the hilt of her sword.  Janna was concentrating inward, and Kate's eyes were alternately on the road or on the indecipherable array of lights and gauges on the dashboard.  The neighborhood looked quiet, but Faith had been through too many quiet neighborhoods to mistake that for safety.  It had never ceased to amaze her how gifted people were at ignoring what was right under their noses.

      "Is it still coming closer?" Faith asked.

      "Yeah … not so fast now as it was out on the main road, like it slowed up when we did, or …"

      "Or it isn't moving at all, and we're just coming up on it," Janna said suddenly, with a light laugh.  "Come on, let's just get there.  It's at the house.  Willow at work."

      Faith let out a relieved breath.  She was not in the mood for another fight before she got there.  That wasn't to say she wasn't in the mood for another fight, but she wanted to meet everyone first.  There would be time for more hunting later.

      "You sure it's her?" Faith asked, just to cover it.

      "Positive.  I'd know her magic anywhere."  She gave a pointed look at Faith, and Faith remembered that Janna and Willow's spirits had actually merged when they restored Angel's soul, before Faith had come to Sunnydale.  Janna did add in a lower, almost wondering voice, however, "God, that's girl's grown."

      "Yeah, Angel was telling me she was getting stronger."

      "He wasn't kidding."

      "I hate to butt in," Kate interrupted, "but why exactly is this friend … I assume she's your friend … having to use so much magic right now?"

      "I have no idea," Janna answered.  "But she wasn't under attack or anything.  This was too steady to be a battle."

      Kate nodded.  "Good enough."

      It was only a few more blocks to the Summers' house, and they rode the rest of the way in silence.  Faith felt her spirits lifting every block.  She hadn't realized how much she had wanted to see the whole group together again.

      "That's the one," she pointed as they turned onto Revello Drive.  The Summers' home was a typical two-story suburban home, with a spacious front porch, white walls, and a manicured lawn.  Several cars were parked outside; Faith recognized Giles' and Willow's.  Despite the time of night, most of the lights in the house were on, and there were clearly people moving around inside, though Gunn's car was not there, so it looked as though the others hadn't arrived yet.  There was also something else in the air around this place, and Faith wondered if she might not be sensing some of what Janna was sensing; the air seemed to resonate with the feel of … something.  Faith could not put her finger on it well enough to describe it, but for some reason it definitely reminded her of Willow.

      There was one space left in the driveway.  Kate drove up to it.

      "Wait … please … just park by the curb," Janna suddenly said softly.

      "Janna?  You all right?" Faith asked.

      "Please!"  Her voice was much more insistent.

      Kate stopped just as she was about to pull into the driveway, and turned to give a long, questioning look at the Gypsy woman.  Eventually, she shrugged and backed up, parking at the curb.  The doors opened, and the three women disembarked onto the sidewalk.

      Kate and Faith immediately began up the front walk, but Janna stayed behind.  Faith stopped, and a moment later, so did Kate; apparently, she did not want to be the first one to ring the doorbell.  She was carrying the strange gun that she had fired at Faith at their first meeting, and Faith was carrying Kalia.

      "You know, we probably don't want to be standing out here like this," Kate rasped impatiently.

      "Janna?" Faith asked slowly.

      "Why … can't I … see …?"  The faerie woman's eyes were still tinted with violet, and she was staring off into space.

      "Janna?!" Faith asked again, more insistently.

Her attention was distracted at that point, however, by the sound of the front door opening.  A whole throng of figures were coming out onto the lawn.  Faith turned and saw Cordelia, Gunn, and Fred there, so she suddenly realized that Angel must have arrived already as well.  There was no sign of either him or Buffy, though.  Or of Giles, for that matter.  The blond girl that Faith had met while borrowing—well, OK, borrowing with the intent to keep—Buffy's body was there, as were Xander and his girlfriend; Faith couldn't remember her name, if she had ever heard it at all.

"Hey everyone!" Faith called.

"Hello again!" Gunn's greeting rang out above the general tumult; everyone was trying to talk at once.

"Kate?!" Cordelia's eyes were wide.  "Just when did you join this little party?"

"And hey, Jenny, where'd your ride go?" Gunn called out to the Gypsy woman, still at the end of the walk.  Then, in response to Cordelia's outburst, his eyes focused on Kate.  "And good question, who's the woman with the phasor-gun?"

Faith tried to think of a place to begin, and came up completely blank.  "I think we've got a lot of catching up to do," she said.  "Where'd B and Angel go?"

      "Uh … they went out to look for you, about ten minutes ago," Xander said.  "You didn't pass them?"

      "No, we took the back roads in, after the Mohras." Faith answered.

      "The what?"

      "We were attacked."

      That started everyone talking at once again.  Faith held up a hand to try quieting them down, without much success.  "We need to talk to Giles.  Is he here?"

      "He and Willow and Wesley are down in the basement," Tara answered.  "They've been working protective magics over the house ever since you called."

      "And one of them is keeping me out," Janna called.

      "What?" Faith and several others said simultaneously as they turned to face her.

      As if to emphasize her point, Janna stretched her arm out in front of her.  A ripple formed around and in front of her hand, as though she were pressing against an invisible, unbreakable bubble.  She flinched and withdrew her hand a moment later.  "Strong, whatever it is.  She did this all herself?"

      "Most of it," Tara answered.  Then her voice steadied.  "Why … are you not human?"

      Janna shrugged.  The question clearly made her uneasy.  She let her silence stand as a confirmation.

      "The wards are designed to keep out and weaken supernatural creatures," Tara explained.

      Janna nodded.  "Which means I won't have my powers even if I cross the threshold."  She took a deep breath.  "Anything else?"

      "I … don't think so, not unless she added something else.  They're working on an earth-hardening spell right now to keep anything from digging under the house, so I doubt that will bother you.  I don't think she knew."

      "I didn't have time to tell her," Janna agreed.  "But it won't attack me if I get across?"

      "It shouldn't … but we were probably going to add that tomorrow," Tara admitted.

      "Right," Janna mused.

      "Miss Calendar, what happened to you?" Xander asked.

      Janna laughed.  "A lot."

      "It's all right, really, Willow can make an exception for you," Tara added.  "She already made one for Dawn and Angel."

      "How long will that take?"

      "Only an hour or two, once she gets done with whatever she's doing now."

      "Fair enough," Janna answered.  "I'll go try and find the others in the meantime.  Did they say where they were going?"

      "Back towards the highway, figuring they'd meet you along the way," Xander answered.

      Faith suddenly clapped her hand to her forehead.  "Shit, they're going to run right into those things!"

      Janna's violet eyes widened as well, and she was clearly furious with herself that she hadn't realized that earlier.  "All right, hang on, I'll see if I can reach them."  She turned and cast her gaze in the general direction of the highway.

      "Uhh … what exactly is she doing?" Xander asked.

      "Hell if I know," Faith answered honestly.  "But she always seems to be right, so I let her work."

      "She gets visions?" Cordelia asked.

      "Something like that."

      "Do they hurt like hell?"

      "Not that I can tell."

      "Man, I'm going to have to ask her how she does that."

      Faith laughed.  "Do yours hurt?"  That would explain why she had looked rather subdued when Faith showed up at Angel Investigations.

      "No, I didn't say they hurt, I said they hurt like hell."

      "Gotcha."

      Janna suddenly turned around, a look of alarm on her face.  "I think they found them."

                        *           *           *

      "How much of a head start did they have on you?" Buffy asked as they pulled out onto the main street that ran through Buffy's neighborhood.

      "At least twenty minutes," Angel answered.  "Cordelia didn't seem to understand the meaning of the word 'hurry.'  And I would swear we never passed them, unless they stopped at a rest stop somewhere, or something else happened to them."

      "Or something else," Buffy repeated gloomily.

      "I'm sure they're all right," Angel said.  "Faith can take care of herself, and Jenny … well, she …"

      "… can always come back from the dead?"

      "Maybe," Angel said.  "You know, I never asked her how she did that."

      "You haven't even asked me how I did that," Buffy observed pointedly.

      "I … well, I know, I just … well, I thought you might be a little uncomfortable talking about it."

      Buffy grinned.  "Hmm, it sounds like it might actually be you a little uncomfortable hearing about it."

      "I'm content to just accept it as a miracle and let it go at that."

      "Works for me," Buffy said.  "Except for the whole memory issue."

      "Memory issue?"

      "Miss Calendar didn't tell you?" Buffy asked.

      "We … sort of left in a hurry, I guess, after we heard you were … well, here."

      "Understandable," Buffy said.  "But listen, you need to hear this.  I'm … younger.  My last real memory is fighting the Master in the underground church at the end of my sophomore year."

      Angel's eyes widened.  "So you don't remember …?"

      "I'm starting to," Buffy answered.  "Willow worked some magic to make it so I can remember things when I think about them.  In another couple of months, I'll probably be back to normal.  Mostly."  The last was an addition as she thought about the complete memory blank surrounding Dawn, and the fogginess around all the events since Dawn had come into her former life, no matter how hard she thought about them.

      "So do you remember …?"

      "What we did together?  What I did to you at the end of junior year?  Yeah," Buffy added, and for the first time, she was the one who sounded uncomfortable.  "I remember you, Angel.  I remember almost everything about you.  In fact, you're the main reason my memories are coming back so quickly.  I think even Willow was surprised.  But I can't stop thinking about you, and when one memory comes back, the others around it come back, too.  I remember my junior and senior years of high school much better than my freshman year of college, because you weren't there.  Same to that one day in L.A."

      "That … what?"

      "The one day in L.A. when you became human."

      Naked shock was painted across Angel's face.  "You … remember that?"

      "Yes, Angel, I remember that," she said, a dreamy look entering her eyes.  "It was kind of hard to forget."

      She gave a throaty chuckle as it became obvious that Angel would have been blushing furiously if there were any blood in his cheeks at all.  Angel sputtered to cover his embarrassment, "but it never actually happened!"

      "It happened, Angel.  You remember it.  I remember it."

      "The Powers That Be shifted the entire history of this world back a day just to get rid of that day!"

      "I wasn't in this world at that time," Buffy pointed out.  "That's why I can't remember Dawn.  Nothing that happened from people messing with time in this world affected me after I … well, wasn't in this world anymore."

      "You remember," Angel said, an almost wondering expression in his eyes.

      Suddenly, his hands tensed on the steering wheel.  "Oh, crap … I think they remember, too."

      Buffy turned to look, and her knuckles suddenly bleached on the grip of her dagger.  There was a group of demons on the sidewalk ahead; they had apparently been heading away from the direction of her house, but having seen them, had turned to fight.  "You've gotta be kidding!" she grated.

      "Hang on!" Angel called, wrenching the steering wheel around.  The car spun and skidded, and nearly made a full U-turn in the middle of the empty street.  Unfortunately, as in so many other things, nearly wasn't quite good enough.

      The rear wheels were spinning wildly on the pavement as one of the demons dove and slashed the tire with his knife; his arm got crushed in the process, but the tire was completely gone.  Buffy and Angel heard the screech of metal on asphalt as the hubcap dipped onto the road.  The car swerved into the curb and dislodged a fire hydrant.  A geyser of water leapt into the air next to the battered front right corner of the car, and the car ground to a halt.

      "Plan B!" Angel called, and he and Buffy leapt from the car.  The other Mohra demons had been slower to react than their comrade, as several of them seemed to have been tending to wounds, but they had finally realized who they were dealing with.

      "It's him!  It's him!" they cried as they surged forward.

      "What are they talking about?" Buffy cried.

      "They're after me!" Angel hissed.  "I killed one of them, remember?"

      "Great," Buffy shouted back as she dodged the first blow leveled at her.  "And here I am with just a dagger."

      Angel wasn't in a position to answer.  There were ten of them, and only three were coming after her.  Six of the others were chasing Angel.  The last, larger than the others, stayed hidden in the shadows; he looked different somehow than the others, but Buffy had no attention to spare to give him a good look.  One of these things had been enough to give her a good fight in Los Angeles.

      "Don't break their gems!" was the last thing Buffy heard Angel shout before he was driven down a side alley, the Mohra demons in hot pursuit.

      "Right," Buffy answered, ducking the swing of the next Mohra's sword and turning aside the blade of the third on her dagger.  The force behind the blow staggered her backwards.

      "All right, I think we're going to need a bigger blade," Buffy thought aloud.  She twisted in under the thrust of the next one and delivered a stunning elbow blow to his exposed armpit.  A moment later, she had the demon's katana in her hand.

      "Much better," she observed.

      Even with the better blade, fighting three of them at once was a challenge, and there was no way she was going to be able to make a break to chase after the ones who had gone after Angel.  The Mohras were outstanding fighters, though they seemed to be a little slower than she remembered the one in Los Angeles being, as though they were still recovering from something.  Buffy noticed that there were holes in places on their armor.

      Suddenly, a shadow detached itself from the shadow of a streetlight and emerged into the light not twenty feet from where Buffy was fighting.  Buffy's eyes widened.  It was Jenny!

      "Miss Calendar!  Get out of here!"

      One of the Mohra demons had also seen her, however, and before Buffy could break away to get in between herself and the teacher, it had lunged over and swept his sword through the unarmed woman's neck.

      It passed through her as though she were only an illusion.

      It cost the Mohra his head, however, as Buffy swung free of the other two, momentarily tangling the morning star of one around the sword of the other.  She continued her spin and brought her blade crushing down on the back of the Mohra's neck.  His was not as immaterial as Miss Calendar's.  Buffy had put such force behind the blow that her spin barely slowed, and she carried her momentum around to swing back to facing the other two.

      "I'll ask later," she said to the older woman as she dove back to the attack.

      "I'm not really here," the woman answered.  "We're at your house.  We're on our way, just hang on!"

      "I'll meet you in the middle!" Buffy shouted as the woman's image faded.  She hoped the other woman had heard.  It was amazing how much fighting clarified her thinking; she probably would have just stood there and stammered embarrassingly if her old computer science teacher had done that in front of her normally, but in the heat of battle, especially in Sunnydale, you learned to just absorb those things as they came and keep on fighting, if you were interested in surviving.

      A commotion further up the street diverted Buffy's attention for a moment.  Angel had made his way back to the street; the demons were still chasing him.

      "Angel!  Back to base!  They made it!" she cried.

      "Right," he answered breathlessly.  Well, she supposed, everything he did was technically breathless, but this actually sounded like it.

      The battle raged on for another few minutes before Buffy was able to pick off another of the demons, thrusting her katana through a hole in the breastplate of the demon's armor.  Yellow-green blood spurted from the wound, and Buffy barely managed to pull her blade free as the demon collapsed.  The third tried to use the delay to bring his own sword swinging down on her from above, but she blocked it by getting her left arm on his wrist as he brought the blade down.  A moment later, her own was free again.

      "Two down," she grinned wickedly at the survivor.

      "They shall return," the other barked.

      "What a shame."

      "Unlike you," the demon spat as he lunged again.  Buffy turned the thrust aside, spun inside the attack, and the demon gave a snarl of pain as his arm and he were parted.  A moment later, he fell to the ground.

      "Why not?  Already done it twice," she smirked.

      A staggering blow suddenly crashed into her back and lifted her into the air, and she flew more than ten feet out into the street before she landed.  Stars swam in front of her eyes, and she had to drive the point of her katana into the street just to leverage herself to a sitting position.  There was a loud metallic clanging and rolling sound as the fire hydrant rolled away further down the street.  The last of the demons had detached itself from the shadows and had decided to join the fight—and was apparently strong enough to use fire hydrants as dodgeballs.

      The thing closed on her quickly, and she didn't have time to get all the way to her feet; she was off balance as the demon, which she could now see looked like the others only larger and with a reddish tint to its skin, brought its pole-axe down on her sword.  She had to roll out of the way of its next blow, and the axe chipped fragments of the street away where she had been lying a split-second earlier.  She tried to get to her feet before he could raise the weapon again, but her legs were not obeying her commands and her spine was in agony.  The demon didn't bother to raise the axe again.  It leveled a kick into her abdomen as she got back to her hands and knees, and she skidded and rolled across the pavement, only barely stopping herself from sliding right into the side of Gunn's car.

      She tried to wrestle herself to her feet, but neither her arms nor her legs were reacting anymore.  All she managed to do was roll over onto her back.  The demons' leader was standing over her, raising its pole-axe above and behind its head for one final executioner's blow.

      "You'd better hope I don't come back," she spat.  Her voice was ragged, however, despite the emotion behind it.

      The demon only grinned and let his axe descend.

      A red blur shot through the air right through the demon's hands on the way down, and the demon let out a startled cry of pain and rage.  His axe flew out of his hands, and he stepped back and swung around, gripping his left hand painfully.  There was a familiar metallic rolling sound as the same fire hydrant that had rolled away down the street rolled away in the other direction, stained with the iridescent blood of the demon from where it had crushed the skin and bone of the thing's hands on its way by.

      Buffy arched her back to look in the direction from which the hydrant had come.  It meant that she was looking upside down, but it was the best she could do.

      A green spur of metal flashed by her eyes just as she was turning her head, and she flinched, though it was heading in the direction of the demon, who was too surprised to react.  It caught him right in the chest, and he screamed in a harsh, inhuman cry, blood spurting from both his chest and back where the spur of metal had passed straight through him.  He toppled backwards, the top end of a stop sign still protruding from his chest.

      A feminine figure was approaching her from up the street, a woman seemingly made entirely of argent light, though Buffy was upside down and her vision was still dazed and unfocused.  She looked familiar somehow, even though only her shining silhouette was visible.  As the woman came nearer, she could see that a slender sword was clasped in the woman's right hand, and that she was not actually made of light, but just surrounded by an aura of some kind, as though her skin were just a clear cover over a vessel of stars.  The light faded as the woman approached even closer and seemed to realize that the demon was not getting up, and Buffy recognized her.

      "Faith!" she breathed, though it was a bit hoarse to be actually called breathing.

      "Oh God, B!" the younger woman breathed, kneeling over her and running her hands over her to see if she could find anything broken.  "Man, you look like hell."

      "Thanks," Buffy answered.  Then something else came to her mind, and she suddenly struggled to get to a sitting position.  "Wait … Angel!"

      "Hey, wait a minute, you're in no position to be playing heroine right now, all right?" Faith said, helping the sunny-haired Slayer to a sitting position but not letting her get any further.

      "There's six of those things after him," Buffy breathed.  The effort of trying to talk straight and hide how weak she was was only weakening her further, but she was determined to push herself to the limit.

      "I know, we saw them on the way in."

      "Is he all right?  Did he get away?"

      "He'll be fine," Faith reassured her.  "Come on, let's get you patched up."

      Buffy laughed haggardly.  "Easier said than done, I think."

      Faith gave a mock-knowledgeable look.  "Tsk, tsk.  Nonsense, nonsense.  We've got a Mohra Lord here, after all."

      "A what?  You know this thing?"

      "Of course," Faith answered casually, getting to her feet and leaving Buffy to fend for her own devices for a moment.  Buffy tried to prop herself up on her hands to watch the other Slayer, but had taxed herself too much already and simply fell to the street again and watched from a prone position.  Faith had her sword out again, and was walking up to the Mohra Lord, who was still conscious and trying to remove the stop sign from his chest with his crushed hands.

      Faith stood over him and smiled, tapping her sword on her shoulder thoughtfully.

      The demon looked up at her and recognized her.  "Oh, not ag …" the last word was cut off as the demon's head went flying from its neck for the second time that night.

      "Faith … what are you …?" Buffy asked weakly.  She was fading quickly, and as well as she had hid it a moment ago, she was worried that she wasn't going to wake up if she blacked out now … or at least, she was worried about ending up in a coma.

      Faith seemed to sense the weakness in her voice at this point, because a look of alarm spread across her face.  "No, you don't!" she said, in an unfamiliar note of command, leaping over and propping Buffy up into a sitting position against the side of the car.  "Stay awake, just a few minutes, all right?  Focus!  Listen to me!  Keep fighting, just a moment!"

      Faith's intensity, as well as the fact that she had said almost the same thing earlier to Dawn, reached Buffy.  She concentrated on her breathing, and did her best to focus her eyes in front of her.

      "All right," Faith said a moment later, and turned around back to the demon's corpse.

      Suddenly, to Buffy's total surprise, the dark-haired Slayer peeled off her shirt.

      "Faith?!" Buffy asked nervously.  The shock had wiped out the brief period of focus.

      "Stay with me," Faith answered as she began soaking her shirt in the iridescent blood of the Mohra Lord.

      Buffy suddenly understood, the memories of that day forgotten by everyone else coming back to her.  "Of course … its blood heals …"

      "You know your demons," Faith confirmed, returning to kneel by the injured Slayer with her shirt gleaming with the yellow-green blood of the Mohra Lord.  She lifted up Buffy's shirt and began to wrap her own gently around the sunny-haired Slayer's torso.  "You're lucky, it looks like that hydrant got more ribs than spine," Faith added.

      Buffy accepted this wordlessly, marveling at the feel of the makeshift bandage.  The blood felt coarse and slimy on her skin, but there was no denying the way it felt throughout her body.  She could literally feel her ribs, at least four of which had to have been broken, repairing themselves with each breath she took.  Her breathing became heavier as the tingling spread throughout her body, but it also became more even and wasn't hurting as much.

      "Wow," she breathed as soon as she had a breath to spare.

      Faith smiled, and a tension seemed to fade from her shoulders that Buffy hadn't even noticed was there.  With a start, a mischievous smile spread across Buffy's face.  "You were really worried about me, weren't you?"

      "Don't make me re-hurt you."

      Buffy donned her most adorable pouting expression.  "I just wanted to give you a compliment on your wonderful nursely abilities.  You're such a wonderfully caring person."

      "All right, I can deal with blood, but you're going to make me throw up here in a sec."

      "First you show up all glowy, then you're working miracle cures, you're just a regular guardian angel."

      "Yeah, whatever … glowy?"

      "Yeah … weren't you?"

      "I don't seem to remember glowing."

      "When you first showed up?"

      "Hmm."  Faith fell strangely silent for a moment, and her eyes grew distant.  She came out of it a moment later, though.  "I've been feeling something different under my skin when I've been fighting lately.  Maybe it's more than just more adrenaline."

      Buffy shrugged.  "Or maybe I was just seeing things, being only, you know, half-conscious?  Anyway, we can ask Giles about it in the morning.  It was really cool, by the way."

      "Aww, don't make me blush."

      "You're sitting in the middle of Main Street without a shirt on, and I'm the one making you blush?"

      "I've got a sports bra," she said with exaggerated modesty.  Then she grinned wickedly.  "And hey, if they were brave enough to stick around through that whole show, they deserve a good view."

      "Brave enough?  Or stupid enough, you mean?"

      "Men, stupid?  You must be kidding," Faith said, a carefree gleam entering her smile.

      Buffy laughed.  "Touché."

      A car turned the corner off a cross street several blocks further up and came in their direction.  It was the first Buffy had seen since the fight began.  She let out a low whistle.  It was a sporty, silver Porsche, and the engine seemed to purr with power, though it was going well below the speed limit.  "I think you're attracting attention," she observed.

      "What?  Oh, that's my Watcher," Faith said with a grin.

      "Your what?"

      "That's Janna."

      "Miss Calendar?" Buffy said wonderingly.  "Where the heck did she get a hold of that?  And she's your Watcher?"

      "I haven't a clue, and yeah, as close as I've got," Faith admitted as the silver coupe pulled alongside them.  The door opened, and Janna leaned out with a playful grin.

      "Getting reacquainted, I see?" the Gypsy woman asked mischievously.

      Buffy flushed a furious shade of scarlet, but Faith only laughed.  "We really missed each other."  The color in Buffy's cheeks only deepened.

      "Anyway, Angel's fine, Kate's got him, they're heading back to the house."

      "Awesome," Faith answered.  Then she gave another look at Janna's coupe.  "You know, you might have wanted to send Kate for us, her car can hold more than two people."

      "Not sure she'd have been ready for that."

      "Good point."

      "It's only ten minutes back to the house, is it all right if you share?" Janna asked.

      Faith gave Buffy a roguish grin.  "Whattaya say, B?  You gonna make me walk?"

      Buffy groaned exasperatedly and rolled her eyes at the sky.  "Much as it would be funny to see you walk all the way back like that, I'm not quite that cruel.  Most days out of the month, anyway."

      "Excellent!" Faith answered.  She reached around and draped one of Buffy's arms over her shoulder, using that to help leverage the other Slayer to her feet.

      "Here, I've got spare clothes in the trunk, we never unpacked," Janna said, moving to get out of the car.

      "Forget it," Buffy said surprisingly, her voice steady again.

      "Oh?" Janna said with a questioning look.

      "Let's get out of here before the rest of them come back.  If Angel's gone, they're going to come after us."

      Janna actually looked worried at that, and cast a glance in her rearview.  Eventually, she shrugged, and her shoulders sagged.  "Good point.  Come on, let's get out of here."

      "You look disappointed," Faith observed.

      Janna gestured towards the headless Mohra Lord corpse as Faith helped Buffy around the front of the car to the passenger side door.  "I was planning on collecting some of that blood for later," the Gypsy woman admitted.  "It's priceless."

      Faith was about to tell her to go for it, but her danger sense was beginning to pick up again, and Janna also looked a little nervous.  "Might be worth a lot, but it isn't worth hanging out here over.  Come on, let's scram."

      Janna nodded.  Faith and Buffy tried to struggle into the passenger seat side by side, and while neither one of them was sporting any excess calories, it was still too narrow for the two of them.  Eventually, Buffy, as the shorter of the two, ended up sitting as awkwardly and unobtrusively as she could on Faith's lap.

      "All right, let's get out of here," Faith said before they were even fully situated.

      Janna had been growing more apprehensive in just the last few moments, and mouthed simply, "Gladly," as she turned the car and headed back towards the Summers' house.  Buffy kept one eye out the back windshield as they left the scene, and would have sworn she saw three additional inhuman shadows emerge from the alleys just as the Mohra Lord's corpse was about to fade from view.

            *           *           *           *           *

      The night was dragging onward, and the stars of the east were beginning to fade as the first shades of dawn began to lighten the eastern sky above the distant Sierra Nevadas, when the agents of the Order of Turaca began to trickle back into the deserted office building.  Glory had been back for some time; apparently, it had not taken her long to find everything she needed at the site of the duel by the library.

      "You wanted to see the Mohras, Your Eminence?" asked one of the trio who were the first to return.

      "Good memory, Adrazor."

      "This should bring them eventually.  They may be in a foul temper, but they usually are."  With that, he motioned to the other two, and they came forward and deposited a body wrapped in a blanket on the floor.  One of them pulled the cover back, revealing the decapitated body of the Mohra Lord.

      Glory grinned.  "Good work."

      "One more thing, Your Eminence.  He was beheaded by Faith.  She's in town, and wielding a faerie blade."

      "Is she really?" Glory asked, characteristically dismissive.

      Adrazor nodded and backed away, just as two others returned.

      "Don't tell me," Glory called as they entered without even turning to look at them.  "You found the site of a battle between the Slayers and those freak ninjas."

      "Pretty much," one of them answered.  "Though there seemed to be something else than Slayers involved.  Advanced technology of some kind, I think.  There was Mohra blood around but no humans, so I assume those 'freak ninjas' didn't perform so well."

      "Hmm, what a surprise," Glory answered contemptuously.

      "What now, Your Eminence?" Hascinth asked.

      "Pack it in and get some sleep, boys.  I'm expecting one more little friend to join us, he should get here by tomorrow evening.  If he does … tomorrow at sundown, we go to war.  It's time to get my Key."

      The light of battle entered the assembled eyes of the Turacans.  "And the Slayer," one of them hissed.  The light in the others' eyes only brightened.  There would be revenge at last.

            *           *           *           *           *

      COMING SOON: Chapter 10, "Of Gods and Men."  Glory has never been one for the exceptionally subtle approach.  A few more new arrivals return (from earlier seasons), and the battle is joined.

      Warning!!  Character death next episode!!