So it only took me TWO YEARS, but I'm back. I have no excuse except that life got in the way. Just know I haven't forgotten about this little whatever it is and all I can say is thank you so much for everyone who has stuck around, read this story, added or followed and commented. You guys are awesome. I hope this was worth the wait. The next chapter is just around the corner. Many of you might not believe this, but I do still know where I'm going with this and in my mind it's quite the interesting adventure.

Forewarning, I'm not great at writing for Willow so if her story seems dull it's because I just can't write for her.

The Hunters League: Summer's Vacation

Starring This Chapter:

Sarah Michelle Gellar as Buffy Summers

Anthony Stewart Head as Rupert Giles

Nicholas Brendan as Alexander 'Xander' Harris

Charisma Carpenter as Cordelia Chase

Alyson Hannigan as Willow Rosenberg

Seth Green as Daniel 'Oz' Osbourne

Co-Starring:

Richard Anconina as Charles Chase

Lisa Rinna as Virginia Chase

Also Starring:

Michael Paul Chan as Mr. Lee, Taylor Willy as Jamaica J

Chapter 3: A Lot Can Happen In Twenty Four Hours

Saturday, May 30th, 1998: Santa Monica, California

As the sun slowly slipped behind the horizon, a beautiful orange and purple haze had begun to fill the clouds in the evening sky. The sunset had created a picturesque moment for all those relaxing and enjoying the world famous pier during a time when the weather had been particularly damp. The weather channel had called it the largest storm in California's history, but for one day the clouds had parted and the sun had shown driving many Los Angeles's residents from their homes and to the beaches for some much needed sun. Now though, the day was drawing to a close and the city dwellers were enjoying what little moisture free time they had left. All of them save for one tiny blonde girl who had spent the entire day sitting on a bench at the end of the pier staring blankly into the ocean. A girl whose eye's showed the pain she suffered, the girl known as Buffy Summers.

The usually smart mouthed and confident slayer was unnaturally quiet and introverted. One could probably say it was a side effect of having to run your honey through the chest with a long sword and then sending him to hell to be tortured for all eternity. There wasn't a second in the day where she wasn't forced to replay every moment of that fateful night. Where she saw the look of love mixed with confusion in his eyes seconds before she plunged the sword through his chest. In an instant his eyes changed to that of pain as he desperately tried to hold on to her for one more second before he was stripped from her arms and sucked into hell.

In fact she took solace in this memory because at least than she knew she was suffering her own hell.

"Buffy," comes a whispered yet familiar voice. A voice that brought her comfort, brought her peace, and brought her love.

Slowly a small smile crosses her face as the owner of the voice sits next to her on the bench. His large frame causes the wooden bench to creak softly while his black duster flutters in the salty beach breeze. Slowly he drapes his large muscular arm around her shoulder as his equally large hand cups her left cheek. Instinctively, she rubs her face against his soft skin and sighs contently.

"How'd you find me here?" she asks slowly turning her face towards him.

"If I were blind, I would see you," he replies with a smirk.

Slowly she moves her hand up to his and interlocks their fingers, "Stay with me, Angel."

"Forever," he replies as he leans his head down next to hers. "That's the whole point, I'll never leave," he replies softly. Buffy smiles and closes her eyes. She snuggles deeper into his body as he moves his mouth next to her ear, a wicked smile crossing his face and softly whispers, "Not even if you kill me."

Quickly her eye's snap open, "What?"

"I didn't say anything, senora," answers a much older voice with a thick Hispanic accent.

Buffy quickly turns her head only to see that Angel was gone. Instead there was an older Hispanic man kneeling next to a small boy standing by the railing. Both were looking at her while clutching fishing poles and a tackle box.

"You shouldn't be out here by yourself senora. Weathers changing," the older man says as he closes his tackle box and stands. He hands the box to the small boy, who was still staring at her.

Buffy smiles a sad smile at the boy, who in turn looks away. She couldn't blame him; she didn't want to look at herself either.

The man grabs the fishing poles from the boy and places his hand on the boys back. Slowly the duo walks away. It took all her energy not to burst out in tears at the sight of the pair as they walked away. It was all she did these days; cry about the friends she left, the love she killed, the job she abandoned, and the life she'd never have. She would never have kids to take fishing, she'd always be alone.

Sunday, May 31st, 1998: Rosenberg Residence, Chandler, Arizona

Chandler, Arizona; home to thousands of Americans was not exactly what many would consider a vacation oasis. While not the desert town it once was, it was definitely no Palm Springs. Yet, some still found beauty in its red-orange sands that covered the town like paint on a canvas, including a certain red headed high school student from California; Willow Rosenberger.

After the "incident" a few weeks ago which left her in the hospital, both her parents began to freak out. Her mother blamed all the late nights while her father blamed Xander. To her father, "the Harris's were nothing but trouble to Sunnydale." He was never happy about Xander being her friend and loved to blame him anytime he felt his daughter was acting out. So in an act of desperation to save their daughter, they shipped her off to her grandparents in Arizona.

Now it wasn't as if she hated visiting her Nana and Pop-Pop Rosenberg, in fact it was far from it. She always looked forward to her time with them. Pop-Pop would always drive her to the outskirts of the suburban city to the hiking trails where they would spend hours just enjoying natures true beauty. Her grandmother would stay home and prepare them a large albeit kosher dinner, before they would enjoy a dip in the Jacuzzi and watch the night sky. Yes, she had wonderful memories of her visits with them.

The only reason she was against the trip was that it left Oz and Xander to fend for themselves, which wasn't good odds in their Sunnydale world. Plus there were the dreams she was having and the nagging feelings in the depths of her mind. There were no images, no faces, nothing to clarify what was happening. All there was were feelings. Feelings of power, pain, heat, anger, and desire, feelings which she feared was an after taste from dabbling in the black arts.

She knew the risks when she embarked in her trip through black magic land. She knew there was a chance of her mind being tainted with a desire for power. She just hoped she would be strong enough to fight the pull. She was going to rely on her friends strengths around her to keep her on an honest plane. Now though, she was on her own. She couldn't even call anyone thanks to her parents who had explained to her grandparents that she was in no way allowed to talk to her friends, including Oz.

She'd have to fight the temptation on her own. Luckily for her, she brought nothing to tempt her. She left all of Ms. Calendar's Wiccan books at home to protect herself. She even left behind all her floppy discs and rewriteable CD's to ensure that she wouldn't stumble upon her hidden stash of cyber magic. All she could do now was sit cross legged on her bed and stare out at the sunrise sneaking its way over the desert hills. Her Pop-Pop felt it best to keep things light her first week in Arizona since her head wasn't completely healed. Stay inside with air conditioning to keep her healthy and happy.

Slowly she looks around the room, taking it all in. It hadn't changed much since last year. Her Nana made sure to feed any plants she had collected during her visits while also ensuring to dust everything regularly. She did notice that the furniture had changed from a pine to an oak and that her Pop-Pop had finally fixed the small dent in the closet door that she made when she was playing with a rubber ball in the third grade. Otherwise, the room seemed untouched.

However, there was one thing that was amiss in her new sanctuary. A large brown box, which hadn't been there when she went to sleep, was now sitting in front of the door. On its lid was a white note. Curiosity always being a folly of hers, she immediately got up and moved to investigate. Upon reaching the box she quickly tore the note from the top of it. As she read the simple note a feeling dread ran down her spine.

My sweet granddaughter,

UPS dropped this off yesterday. We would have told you, but you were pretty out of it. You're parents sent it. They said it was some books you were reading in Sunnydale; they thought you'd like to have them with you. Look forward to watching the stars tonight in the Jacuzzi. We've got it marked in our day planner.

Love,

Nana

She didn't know when her hands had begun to shake, but she knew what was causing it. It was a mixture of hunger and fear. She released the letter, which fell silently to the floor, and slowly backed away from the box. She could feel the power emanating from inside. She could almost hear the voice of her desires demanding her to open the box and it terrified her.

Will power was draining out of her like a rusty bucket and she knew it wouldn't be long before she tore into the box. So she did the only thing she could think to do and that was to hide the box. She dashed across the room and grabbed the offending container with both hands. She lifted the box, which was heavier than it looked, and tossed it into her newly repaired closet. Once the temptation was out of sight she pressed her back to the closet door and slid to the floor in exhaustion.

"Oh boy," she whispers.

Sunday, May 31st 1998: Cordelia Chase's Suite Las Palmas Resort, Mexico

The title of suite was an understatement at the Las Palmas resort. Everything was grand and beautiful when it came to this particular hotel, then again when you schmooze California's richest CEO's and families this type of grandeur was to be expected. Each suite had two sleeping quarters, one master and one regular, and each were decorated in the latest styles to ensure that Las Palmas was the leader of the pack when it came to style.

The suites also came with full amenities; Satellite TV, full bar, full kitchen, two bathrooms which housed whirlpool bathtubs, and twenty four hour a day room service including dry cleaning and driving services. Each room also contained the most extravagant furniture one had ever laid their eyes on. Of course the furniture was made and designed in Italy before being shipped overseas. It's like the motto states on their twenty four hour a day TV channel "Las Palmas stands for Luxury", which ensures happiness for every guest that stays with them, every guest that is except for one.

Yes the room had everything including a breath taking view of the ocean, enabling it's occupant to have the perfect view of the sunrise and sunset every day. For this particular guest however, the room was missing one thing or in this case one person and his name was Xander Harris. Yes for Cordelia Chase, daughter of Charles Chase who was co-partner for one of the largest ad firms Lewis and Lewis, the room only made her lonelier. Underneath her window sat her luggage, packed and ready to leave. On the dresser against the far wall hung a beautiful Stefano Pilati dress with Jimmy Choo heels and Neil Lane jewelry.

Yet instead of joining the festivities around the hotel, she found herself sitting quietly on her bed with her hands in her lap fighting back tears.

"I hate you daddy," she whispers as the first tear rolls down her cheek.

To a passerby it would seem like a spoiled bitch crying about not getting her way, but for anyone who had witnessed the conversation that had occurred just hours ago. . .

Saturday, May 30th1998: Cordelia Chase's Suite Las Palmas Resort, Mexico

The room is softly lit by the dimmer and a fire burned in the fireplace. Cordelia had just hung up the phone with Xander and she couldn't help but smile.

"He's safe and he misses me. He misses me, not just my looks or money, but me!" she yells happily out to herself.

This was the first time in her life that a man actually liked her for her and she had to admit it was thrilling her to the core. Though she would never admit it to anyone, Xander made her want more from life. He made her want to better herself, better the world. She wanted him to be proud of her; she just didn't want anyone to know that he was the reason.

"I do have a reputation after all," she thinks to herself as she gets up off the bed and walks to the window. Slowly she peels back the curtains and smiles at the sight of the full moon reflecting off the pitch black ocean surface.

"I hope Oz is taking the necessary precautions. I don't want to be dating a werewolf too," she mutters to herself. "Though I'd still be with him no matter what he turned into. It's what you do when you lo. . ."

"Princess," booms her father's voice, interrupting her conversation with herself. Wide eyed from her almost admittance to loving Xander and fear that her father may have over heard her confession, she turns slowly to face him. Before her stood her handsome father, with his perfectly pressed Armani suit and slicked back hair. The look on his face however was anything but a loving father. He looked like he was going to try and sell her a used car.

"Hi daddy, mother said you wanted to see me?" Cordelia asks innocently while plastering her patented "daddy's girl" smile.

He takes in his daughter's appearance, noting her beaming smile, "Enjoying your time here this year sweetie?"

Inside Cordelia's mind was screaming at her "Danger Cordy! Danger! Guilt trip is in the horizon!" However, do to her recent elation she dismissed the warnings.

"Well. . ." Cordelia begins before being interrupted by her father.

"Good, now as you know this trip is always important to my firm," he begins.

"Yes daddy. . ." Cordelia answers though she knew he wasn't listening. However, she knew where this was going and it was beginning to make her nervous. It was the same favor and same speech every year since she could remember.

"This may seem like a vacation to you and your mother, well especially your mother. For your daddy however, it's work. Lewis and Lewis expect me to land big clients on these trips and this year is no different. We're trying to land a large law firm, one of the largest in Los Angeles,"

"Yes daddy. . ." Cordelia whispers sadly. "Please don't ask me to do this again," her mind screams.

Charles begins to pace back and forth in front of her while using every form of body language to demonstrate dominance. "Now I know you don't care what it is that I do or who my clients are,"

"Never have. . ."she whispers with a smile.

"Nor do you care how important this firm is to my company," he continues without listening.

"Never will. . ." she whispers again.

"But I need you to help out your daddy just this once," he asks.

"It's always just this once," she thinks to herself. "Please hang out with the clients kids just one more year sweetheart. It will mean a lot to your daddy," she mumbles to herself in expectation. However, this time it wasn't even close.

"I need you to show one of the firm's members a good time," he says bluntly.

Her mouth drops open in horror and shock. "What!" she shouts. If only Xander was here to witness that Cordelia's bluntness was actually hereditary. "Not going to happen daddy! How could you even ask that of your own daughter?" she says coldly.

Immediately Charles stops and snaps his head in shock at his daughter's refusal. Sure she repeatedly ignored him, but to tell him "no" outright knowing he could take it all away from her. That was a new one.

"What do you mean no?" he says with an edge of anger. Cordelia could only glare up at the man that she called her father. How dare he try to whore her out like this.

When she was younger he would ask her to play the role of dutiful daughter and follow him around like a perfect angel. When she grew up and entered junior high he would ask her to play with the other client's kids. When she entered high school he would ask her to play the role of babysitter for the client's children. These requests she could do.

Never had he asked her to show a client "a good time". Never had he made it so suggestive. What did he think of her? What because she had a beautiful face and a body with curves in all the right places that he felt her role in his work should be bumped up from babysitter to call girl.

"No daddy! I won't play whore for you!" she yells in pain.

Suddenly Charles eyes grew in shock, "What? No! It's not like I'm asking you to have sex with the man. I'm not pimping you out to him. I just want you to take him out and impress him. If you have to, get romantic. I don't expect you to sleep with him."

"First. . .eck! Second, I have a boyfriend and I care about him. I won't cheat on him. How dare you!" She shouts in anger.

This time Charles face turned red with anger, "How dare I? How dare you! Your mother and I have seen how you are with the Harris trash. You can whore yourself out to a boy who's got a future in highway maintenance, but you can't help your father ensure he lands a large client? We're Chases for Christ sakes!" He shouts and he paces in front of her. "Do you understand how important this is to me? I'm on the verge of losing my job! If I land this client I keep my job which in turn will make sure you have a place to live after the soon to be alcoholic knocks you up and dumps you."

Cordelia stumbled back from the verbal blow in shock and pain. Her father had never been this venomous, this abusive. It was like he was the demon version of himself. How could her own father say that about her? His words were like a slap in the face. By now she had tears in her eyes.

"I don't care about your stupid job! Don't you dare talk about me being a whore daddy! I don't sleep around! I haven't even slept with Xander! You've got some nerve of accusing me! I know about you and your secretary and your female clients! Ha! You get angry at me because you disapprove of my Xander, yet you turn a blind eye to mother? She sleeps with all the hired help! Hell, she's probably screwing the frat boys from the beach right now! Now get out!" Cordelia yells, releasing years of pent up secrets and anger in one rant. She had to admit it felt good standing up to her father for once instead of following his orders.

"That's because she knows what her role is on these trips! She's being a dutiful wife! Unlike my ungrateful daughter!" he spits back.

Cordelia's eyes shot open at this revelation. She always thought the infidelity was because her parents were in a loveless marriage, she never imagined it was like this. She felt sick to her stomach. Her family was definitely in the "fucked up" category along sides with the Manson's and the Harris's.

All she could do was stare with a slack jawed expression at her father and all her father could do was stare down at her with hate. "Now listen here you little spoiled brat. Tomorrow evening one of the clients will be here to pick you up. His name is Jonathan Mohane. ."

"No daddy!" she yells out.

He continues on without listening to her. "I will buy you a new outfit. He'll be expecting you to be ready so don't keep him waiting."

"No daddy! I won't cheat on Xander!" she yells.

Charles instantly reaches out and grabs her by her shoulders his breath reeking of alcohol and his eyes were red with anger, "I don't give a fuck about the Harris kid! All I care about is landing this firm! You will show Mr. Mohane a goodtime!"

"I won't cheat on Xander!" she yells again.

"Why not?" Charles yells causing spit to hit her in the face.

By now tears were falling down her cheeks. She had never been so afraid of her father before.

"Because I love him!" she yells out shocking both herself and her father.

"You what?" he asks, his eyes burning with rage. "You love him? You love him! I give you and your mother the perfect life and you love him? You have to be fucking kidding me! I can take this all away!"

"I don't care!' she yells.

Slowly he leans his face down into hers his eyes burning even brighter with hate and anger. She could smell the whisky on his breath and it made her stomach turn at the thought that this is what Xander dealt with every second of every day. This fear was unbearable. He stopped moving when his eyes were level with hers. She was sure he could see the fear and panic in her own eyes. That he could feel her trembling with fear. Suddenly a smile crossed his lips. A smile that sent shivers down her spine.

"I could take him away from you," he says unemotionally causing her eyes to widen.

"What," she whispers.

"That's right. Money is very powerful and his families reputation speaks for itself. I could make him disappear from your life," he continues coldly.

"No daddy," she sobs.

"I can pay off the sheriff, have him arrested. Pay off the judge and have him sent to prison. I can pay off the guards, the inmates, anyone and make his life a living hell," he says with a large smile.

"Daddy please, no," she pleads more.

"That's right, beg! Beg to save your piece of shit boyfriend. If you don't do what I ask of you, your life style and your boyfriend are gone. Just like that," he says with a snap of his fingers releasing her from his grip.

Immediately Cordelia crumples to the floor as the sobs shake her body.

"Do you understand me?" he asks coldly.

"Yes," she answers shakily.

"That's my girl," he says patting her on the head like nothing had just transpired between them. "Remember, he'll be here tomorrow night. Have fun."

With that he turns and walks out of the room leaving a sobbing Cordelia on the floor.

"I'm sorry Xander. I'm so sorry," she cries out.

Sunday, May 31st 1998: Cordelia Chase's Suite Las Palmas Resort, Mexico

It was then that she decided that she was done with her parents. She would still live with them and use their money, but from now on she would no longer talk to them. They would be like neighbors at an apartment complex, just nod when you pass each other in the hall and pray you don't end up in the same elevator together forced to interact.

To force your daughter into something so degrading out of family obligation and black mail was despicable. She was sure even demons who would say, "That's messed up."

As much as it hurt her though, it would hurt her more to live a life without Xander. She couldn't subject him to a life of pain and torture because he mistakenly fell for the girl with the devil for a father. She loved him too much, so she would go through with it for him. She would take this sleaze ball out for a couple of hours throw some charm his way, maybe kiss him on the cheek and then call it a night. He wasn't going to be allowed to touch any part of her body. No, that trip was saved for one man and when she got home he was going to get the full African Safari version.

Sighing sadly she stood and grabbed the gorgeous outfit that she would normally drool over and made her way to the bathroom. "You owe me daddy," she says aloud to the room.

Sunday, May 31st: Harbor Avenue, Sunnydale, California

In Sunnydale, if you were looking for shady characters, cheap merchandise, or just general trouble; usually you would take a trip down to the docks via Harbor Avenue. On this route you'll see nothing but rundown business's, strip clubs, and bars. During the day you could find anything from pirated video's to backroom drug deals. Harbor Avenue was that one section of every town in America a parent had to tell their child not to venture to. Even the police didn't patrol this area.

However, Xander's parent's never told him any of this growing up. He figured they wanted him to stumble onto this avenue by accident and be sold into slavery or something. Sometimes as a kid he would think about going to Harbor Avenue to be kidnapped. He figured it had to be a better life then he was living, well before Buffy anyways. Now as an almost adult he found himself on the very avenue he knew better than to be on looking for a cheap haircut at a business called Mr. Lee's Cuts N' Shave.

When he had awoken that morning he had a problem on his hands and that problem was his recently unemployed father, Anthony Harris. Being tired from late nights of patrolling had left his mind in a state of the stupid causing him to stumble into the living room instead of sneaking out of the basement. This foggy choice then caused him to run into the already intoxicated Anthony, which caused Anthony to throw an unseen left hook into Xanders face then slam him against the wall and demand that he get a job to pay his keep. In other words, "Help carry his father's inebriated dead weight."

So out he went with a new shiner on his face in search of a cheap barber and a job. Which of course everyone knew that if you wanted a cheap hair cut, then you went to Mr. Lee's on the corner entrance to Harbor Avenue. Mr. Lee's wasn't hard to find, it was the nicest looking building on all of Harbor Avenue. So after a long walk, Xander found himself standing on the sidewalk looking at his reflection in the window.

It had been a only been couple hours since his encounter with the girls and the vampires at the school gym. His body was still hurting from the beatings he had taken and the lack of sleep he was enduring. His already broken arm was throbbing with intense waves of pain; which offset the pain in his ribs, ankle, and head. "Who knew that slaying was so demanding?" he thinks to himself as he stands by the exit to Mr. Lee's Cut N' Shave.

"Note to self, steal pads from football team for patrols," Xander says aloud as he looks at himself in the window of Mr. Lee's.

The sight that greeted him made his stomach turn. His left cheek was an angry shade of purple from his run in with the dark figure at the school gym. "More like his faces' run in with the persons steel toed boot," he thinks to himself.

"Sunnydale, always full of the fun and mystery," he whispers to himself. "Well it's always full of something at least."

As he continues to take in his reflection and realizes how much he resembles the phrase "You look like death". His lower lip was still swollen from a newbie vamps lucky upper-cut from last night. His skin was a pale white and his eyes were sunken in from lack of sleep. His right eye was already starting to turn a nice shade of purple from Anthony. Then of course there was his ratty looking cast on his arm throbbing with pain.

"Yeah that can't be a good thing. Casted arms aren't supposed to hurt weeks after they've been set," he mumbles as he pushes a lock of scraggily hair out of his face. He straightens his collar and extends his casted arm out in mock meeting fashion. "Xander Harris, I'm here to apply for the job opening. Ignore the cuts, bruises, black eye and the broken arm. Oh and can I get nights off so I can go out and hunt vampires and other evily goodness that lurks in the dark? Yeah, this is going to go good," he says out loud to his reflection.

Sighing he pushes open the front door to the shop. As he enters the modest Barbershop he is surprised at the normalcy of it all. Wood like paneling lined the walls and posters of World War Two and Vietnam era fighter planes plastered the rest. Three barbers' chairs are lined up in front of three mirrors and a small counter to meet the customers sat up front. What wasn't normal were the four demons sitting in the waiting area. All the demons looked up from their reading materials at the sound of his entrance.

"Oh shit," was his immediate thought when he locked eyes with the four demons. Demons were nothing new to a fighter of the night creepies, but the idea that demons needed haircuts? That was something entirely new to the boy, which was why he was currently starring slack jawed.

Eventually the demons lost interest in his presence and went back to their newspapers and magazines. However, Xander had yet to move from his spot. Sure, these creatures hadn't attacked him, but that still didn't help the fact that he was out numbered. Swallowing loudly, Xander tried to keep his body's shaking to a minimum as he slowly unfolds a piece of paper he had been clutching in his non-casted hand. He reads the paper again, "Well the address is right, I just figured there would have been a 666 or something in it to warn about walking into the lion's den."

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches sight of one of the scariest things he'd ever seen. Across the room was an open doorway, its door long since removed. Inside the small frame stood a grossly large Samoan man, his own frame twice the size of the smaller doorway. His eyes said "You're going to be wearing your ass for a hat in a few seconds."

"Uh oh," Xander mutters to himself as the man barrels through the doorway, a feat that was mind boggling to begin with, and charged toward Xander like the boulder from Indiana Jones.

"Oh crap!" Xander shrieks as he backs up only to bump into the wall behind him. His eyes widen in fear as he raises his arms up in the air signaling the man to stop. "Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Big fella, I'm just here for a hair. . ."

The man cuts off Xander's plead by grabbing the boy's collar with his large sausage link like fingers. Then with no effort the man lifts the scrawny Scooby into the air, bringing their faces to the same height. Using his only good hand to grasp onto to the man's goliath forearm to keep himself from being strangled by his only dress shirt, Xander could only struggle to get his words out, "I. . .have. . .," he coughs once trying to regain some air, "a. . .12:30. . . . appointment. . ."

The man sniffs Xander's scent and slowly pulls the boys face closer to his own, their noses touching. He then growls loudly causing Xander to swallow and squirm. "Can you kill me after my appointment? I would like to have my hair look nice for my funeral."

The man growls again and tightens his grasp pulling Xander's collar even tighter around his throat.

"Jamaica J! That's enough! Put the boy down!" comes a thick Chinese accented voice from behind the large beast of a man.

Jamaica J's nostrils flair out as he releases a puff of angry air and growls one last time before dropping Xander unceremoniously onto his feet. Xander immediately places his hands on his own throat and gasps for air. Jamaica J smirks at Xander quickly before turning and lumbering to back room. On his way he passes by a very small and very old Chinese man. The man was wearing a white apron over red and white striped shirt and black pants. He also had on one of the friendliest smiles Xander had ever seen.

"Your forgiveness please, but Jamaica J is very protective of his Mr. Lee. Any newcomer comes across as a threat to him," Mr Lee says as Jamaica J sits in a small folding chair which whines under his weight.

Xander looks at Jamaica J and then to Mr. Lee as he gasps for air, "No problem, wouldn't be a day if someone didn't grab me by the old shirt wings and threaten my life."

Mr. Lee looks Xander up and down, taking in his appearance, "So it would seem."

"He reminds me of some road kill I had last night," a scaly and horned green demon says out sarcastically.

Mr. Lee scowls at the demon, "Leave the boy alone Lur. We've all met with hard times before. Go back to your paper you crazy old kook." He then turns his attention back to Xander, "Ignore my regulars, they mean no harm Mr. . .?"

Xander stands up right for the first time since his rendition of the flying nun and walks to Mr. Lee. He shakes his hand, "Call me Xander."

Mr Lee smiles and then nods, "Yes. Well my apologies again Mr. Xander. Mr. Lee's is supposed to be an Oasis of neutrality. It's a sanctuary from the stress of the day to day, a place to talk about the goings on in this town. You will find no more harm will come to you here. So I take it you are my 12:30."

Xander fidgeted with is collar once more, "Yeah. I tried telling that to Mama Jam over there before he tried hanging me up on the hat rack."

Mr. Lee places his hand on Xanders back and begins to usher him to the open barbers chairs, "Yes, he means well. We all need protection in these parts of town. Please sit."

Xander looks back at the group once more and then sits down. Suddenly a red skinned and horned demon stands up in anger, "I was next Charlie!"

Mr. Lee gently fans open a white barber sheet in one motion causing it to flutter like a flag in the breeze, then ever so softly covers the boy's body and buttoning it around the back of his neck. "Kriek, new customers come first. Besides, you have three hairs at most. You'll just have to wait your turn or you can have Jamaica J cut your hair," Mr. Lee says without looking up.

A loud throaty growl roars out from Jamaica J as his overbearing frame encompasses the doorway. Kriek swallows loudly and sits down. Mr. Lee chuckles softly as he turns towards the mirrored counter behind Xander, "So Mr. Xander, what brings you our way?" He asks as he removes a sharpened and polished set of scissors and trimmers. He unrolls a black cloth on the counter and lines them up like surgical equipment.

Xander was finding this whole situation very unsettling, almost to a freak out level. Perspiration was starting to form on his brow and slowly make its way down his nose. He awkwardly wipes away the offending beads of sweat and adjusts himself in the chair.

Mr. Lee continues to organize his equipment, "You have nothing to fear here Mr. Xander."

Xander's eyes widen in shock and confusion, "How did you. . .?"

The room burst in laughter as Mr. Lee turns with a friendly smile, "Oh my dear boy, you have much to learn. I am an empath demon. Well half actually. I can sense emotions in people."

Xander looks around confused, "Wait. . .people can. . .you know. . .with demons? They can make. . .kids?"

Sensing the boys mind was struggling to wrap itself around this new knowledge, Mr. Lee places a hand on his shoulder and turns the chair so they are both facing the mirror. He looks the boy in the eyes through his reflection, "Demons and human are not that different. We may look different on the outside, but on the inside things are very compatible."

It shouldn't have been a shock to the boy after all the times demon females had come after him. It actually made sense. "It makes sense now," Xander says a loud to himself.

Mr. Lee picks up a spray bottle, "What makes sense?"

Realizing he said that a loud he tries to explain, "Sorry, it's just demons and vampires aren't that new to me. I'd tried to explain. . ."

Mr. Lee chuckles, "I know who you are Mr. Xander."

Xanders eyes widen in shock, "You do?"

Mr. Lee smiles and nods, "Everyone around these parts knows you're a friend of the slayer. I must admit, I was shocked you came around these parts. You and your wolf friend are playing quite the high risk game of Russian roulette."

"How did you know?" Xander asks as his discomfort grows at the sight of Mr. Lee picking up a very sharp hand razor.

"Do you even know where you are?" Mr. Lee asks as he run's the blade along a piece of leather strap, the blade on the rough animal hide causing a soft scratching sound to fill Xander's ears.

Xander smirks, "I'm going to take a wild guess and say. . .Sunnydale."

Mr. Lee laughs as he sets the blade down and grabs a spray bottle from his tray, "Well at least you haven't lost that wit of yours." He sprays Xanders hair with bluish hued water that smelt slightly of ocean mist. As the scent makes its way through Xander's nostrils and through his body, a sense of calm envelopes him like a Cordy hug on a humid day. Slowly Mr. Lee sets the bottle on the tray and grips a large pair of electric clippers. He raises the clippers up to his eye's and inspects the blades. He looks back at Xander and smiles, "My boy, you're in the Demon District."