Disclaimer- There is nothing I would like more than to own these characters, and the world they inhabit. Too bad I’m just a lowly fanfic writer, otherwise I’d write myself in as a character, and subsequently have to choose between the affections of Spike and Toby. But, and this may actually be fortuitous, because that would be a damn hard decision, Joss is boss.

Author’s note- This chapter, and really this whole story, is dedicated with love and rage to Steve, a.k.a ‘The Sickening Thud’. Ima miss ya, buddy. RIP.

And, to lighten the mood after that depressing note… Holler, ya’ll. Reviews give me warm tinglies, and I need some of those right now in a big way.

The First Good stared at the two Slayers as they appeared, in a haphazard fashion, in her visiting room. Faith looked at Buffy.

“That was a little less of a smooth ride than last time. I think I liked the old way better.” She looked around and noticed The First Good, staring at them with raised brows. Faith waved a hand. “Hiya Jane.”

“Faith.” ‘Jane’ stood up regally, cloaked in the same garments the two Slayers remembered from each of their separate trips

‘I wonder if she’s got a bunch of spares, or if that thing’s just really, really smelly by now?’ Faith wondered. ‘Or, who knows, maybe Good don’t get dirty like the rest of us gals.’

“Buffy.” The First Good continued, looking between the two. “This is unexpected. What brings you here?”

“We need to find out about that net thingy you told us about.” Buffy told it. “We’ll probably be needing it, oh, nowish.”

“I have watched your preparations.” ‘Jane’ said with a slight smile. “Impressive.”

“Thank you.” Buffy said. Faith gave a quaint bow.

“Angel is playing his part well. Would you like to see?” Jane asked, raising a hand as if preparing to conjure something.

“No, no.” Buffy said hurriedly. “I don’t really like it when he’s getting into that role.”

“Hits a little too close to home for the girl.” Faith explained, at Jane’s inquisitive look.

“Ah, yes.” Jane nodded. “That was a bad time. Unfortunately, I was unable to intervene.”

“Yeah, we get it.” Faith said. “Keeping the balance and all that.”

“Yes, exactly.” Jane approved.

“Hey, why did we hit the ground so hard this time?” Faith asked. “When we got here, I mean.”

The First Good considered. “I was not expecting you. The path was less clear.”

“Oh.” Faith said, dropping it. “So, about this net…”

They were preparing for war. Most knew the ins and outs of the business, having spent many years preparing for war against several different enemies. Connor himself had been at war most of his life, living in a dimension where war was a way of life, a simple method to protect oneself. He was, however, impressed by the solidarity that he saw between this group of people, having had only himself and his makeshift father in his former life. This group worked together to meet the ends that needed to be met, by means he would not have been able to imagine up on his own. He himself was called upon a multitude of times: to train with the small army of Slayers that Giles had somehow managed to scare up in the two weeks prior, to train with Fred, who had made a tentative peace with the old one who shared a body with her, to patrol with Willow, and Oz, and Toby, and sometimes even Dawn, who showed considerable spunk for someone who was not blessed with super strength, and who was really very proficient at chopping the heads off of pesky demons. The years of training with her sister had endowed her with a confidence not many had, and a strength that many mere humans would likely have coveted, if they had been lucky enough to see it in action.

Connor also sometimes studied with Zerelda, who was skilled in an art of sorcery that was little known in these parts, and that he was surprised to be able to, at first, understand, and later, to practice, if in an amateur capacity. Willow also proved to be quite adept at these unprecedented arts.

Spike often trained alongside him, with the Slayerettes, and was frequently ridiculed for his extremely changed appearance, which clashed so obviously with his swaggering attitude. Angel had been away a long time; too long for Connor’s peace of mind, but Giles assured him that he often got updates from the, as Spike put it, other uber-uber vamp. The First had located him with ease; he’d been feeding on a murderer, something he wasn’t completely comfortable with, but had, as he’d expected, led the First to him like a beacon. He’d been accepted into the fold after an exhaustive and, he said, idiotic, analysis, performed by The First Evil’s extremely depleted Dark Slayer contingent. Angel was passed, which was not surprising. He was still very much in touch with his dark side, and could act the part with ease. He now acted as an adviser of sorts, to The First, and was busy filling its head with a multitude of half-truths and downright lies.

Faith, Buffy and Willow talked late into the night; Willow was strategizing the way to oppose The First Evil’s new touchable self, and wanted Buffy and Faith fully equipped to get it right the first time, because, as she said, there wasn’t much wiggle room in this particular area of spellcasting. When they weren’t studying with Willow, Faith and Buffy sparred with Spike, who had come through the difficult change the Slayers’ blood had wrought upon him with the same results as Angel. His vampire strength had been heightened, his formerly tentative forays into the sunlight were less traumatizing, and his attitude got, if possible, even more arrogant. Connor spent a good deal of time with the formerly blonde vampire, as he liked the challenge of training with someone whose strength was so staggering, and he found that, though sometimes annoying, the vampire’s attitude was oddly comforting, as he was completely unable to accept the chance that defeat was a possibility.

Oz and Toby often morphed into wolf form and trained that way, to be better equipped, they proclaimed, to deal with any werewolves The First might have in its army. Connor was pretty sure that they just liked to give into the change, and also thought that they enjoyed tearing at each other without the risk of turning another human, both being lycanthropes themselves. They also practiced half-morphing, bringing it on with such ease in the last few days that they sometimes spent entire days looking like hairless nosferatu-limbed, beastlike figures. Except for the lack of cheesy blue-ness, Connor thought they looked like the were-human hybrid from that movie Underworld. He also thought they looked really fucking cool.

The First Good had had some surprising news, and when the Two Slayers had addressed the multitude that was now their army (with the hefty amount of fighters Riley and Sam had brought into the fold, they were now really quite impressive) they had shared the fact that they themselves were the net that could hold the incredible power that was a Power that Be…‘d. It had something to do with the powers they had inherited from the Oracles, and the ‘sacred duty’ they would periodically be called on to perform in the future. Faith said it was some kind of bounty hunting of the really mean-nasty demons out there, the ones that threatened to throw off the balance, the ones that there nettiness could harness and put in some kind of holding pattern until the Powers decided what to do with them. When Connor asked how something less than a Power itself could throw off that so oft mentioned balance, Buffy had said that it wasn’t really all that difficult if the right forces were invoked. Willow told him about how the balance had been upended by her and several others, including Xander’s, bringing Buffy back from the dead.

Xander himself had considered taking the newly teamed up Illyria and Fred’s offer to give him a new eye, and after much soul searching had decided that he would after all be better equipped to do battle with his friends if both of his eye sockets had balls in them. The brand new eye was gold, and Xander had been really quiet after acquiring it, which Illyria/Fred informed everyone was perfectly normal, as he was merely getting used to being able to see things that most people were unable to. Buffy, Willow and Giles of course all got really concerned, until Xander had, upon patrolling, warned them of an attack that had not yet happened. The Polgara demon who was at that moment swinging its bonelike skewer at Buffy’s head had been effectively dealt with, and core four had, if possible, gotten even closer than they had previously been. Of course, after that, lots of people were trying to get Xander to tell the future for them, which he simply couldn’t do. Fred had explained that the ability wasn’t one that could simply be called upon, but one that appeared when it chose. Xander had been content with this ruling, getting a great deal of satisfaction that he was now the ‘future seeing heart’ of the gang, even if it was a sporadic ability.

The army was readying itself for the inevitable battle that loomed. They patrolled, they trained, they even argued. And they did all of this under The First Evil’s radar. Between them, Willow, Toby and Zerelda had finally succeeded in conjuring the spell that Willow had attempted at the house that had formerly been their headquarters. They were, for all intents and purposes, cloaked; hidden from the eyes of The First in a way that was accomplished by something Willow had described as an overlap.

And, if you didn’t count the countless injuries that occurred on patrol, they were, for the time being, safe.

“Fucking bastard-ass vampire son of a bitch!” Faith exclaimed, flinging vamp-dust from her hands and hair. “The fucking nerve of some of these shitbrains!”

“You okay?” Toby asked in quick concern, patting dust from his pants. He straightened and strode quickly towards her.

“Stupid jerk tried to feel me up.” Faith said with a sneer. “Gross. I will never use patrolling as an excuse to get you alone again.”

“I don’t think it really constitutes as alone time when you have a cocky-ass vampire tagging along.” Toby told her. “Only guy getting any action around here just got slightly dusty.”

“I don’t appreciate snogging with a vamp being referred to as ‘gross’.” Spike commented, as he kicked a stubborn vampire in the chest. “In fact, some ladies who will not be named seem to quite enjoy it.”

“Can’t you go kill vampires somewhere else?” Faith asked impatiently, gesturing towards the other end of the cemetery they occupied. “I’d like to be able to molest this boy some time tonight.”

Spike staked the vamp. “Well, why don’t you find some snug little mausoleum to cozy up in and get the deed done, then? I’ll mind my own, quite happily, thank you.”

“Yeah sure. Knowing you, you’d be listening right outside the door the whole time.” Faith contradicted. Spike gave a huff and started in the opposite direction, heading for the north side of the cemetery.

After a few moments Faith sighed thankfully and looked at her dreadlocked werewolf. “Finally. I thought he’d never leave.” She moved towards him, and into his arms. “It is a good thing we got this whole Slayer-witch-initiative type army kickin’ and shit, but hell, I thought I’d never be able to get you alone, what with the crowd.”

“Well, now you’ve got me all to yourself, darlin’, and I’m up for whatever you’ve got in mind.” Toby drawled.

“Whatever I have in mind, huh?” Faith grinned evilly. “Well, I’m sure if I think real hard, I’ll come up with something.” She stood on her toes and kissed him thoroughly.

After a few moments Toby looked down at her. “Well, that sure is a good start. What say you we take up Spike on his suggestion that we cozy up in yonder mausoleum?”

“Cobwebs and dust turn you on, Cowboy? ‘Cause I’m likin’ the way you’re thinking.”

“Oh, you know, I’m a sucker for the whole ‘sex in graveyards’ thing. Comes from being obsessed with black metal for years. Of course, we’ll probably be interrupted by some undead so and so, just dying to make a snack out of the hot chick getting’ it on, on top of the coffin it calls home.”

Faith laughed. “So you’re plannin’ on some action tonight, are ya, buddy? And here I was thinkin’ we’d be all with the serious discussion about where we’re headed with this relationship. Maybe I’d be reading poetry, or some cheesy shit like that?”

“Hey, you wanna read poetry, feel free. I’ve always admired multi-tasking in women.” Toby leered at her suggestively. Faith licked her lips.

“Baby, trust me, I’ll be multitasking. But there is no way in hell I’m reading poetry like some stoned hippy chic. That just ain’t me. We’ll just have to think of somethin’ else to fill the gap.”

Toby grinned at the unintentional crudity. “Good thing, too. That shit turns my stomach.” He lowered his lips to hers again. Faith’s hands found his shoulders, and she leaned into the kiss, sighing when his hands caressed the bare skin of her back underneath the faded Black Sabbath shirt she wore. Toby’s hands ascended, his fingernails scratching the tender skin lightly. Faith grinned and bit at his lower lip, letting him know that gentleness wasn’t something she was particularly obsessed with. His nails bit down and her back arched. “See, that’s what I’m talking about, Cowboy.” She breathed, moving her hands to his chest, where they tested the musculature and were pleased with what they found. Toby moved her backwards, his mouth finding the silky skin under her ear and pausing there to appreciate the scent of amber and the lavender shampoo she used that reached his nose enticingly. Faith’s back hit a large tombstone and she scooted on top of it, bringing Toby in close and wrapping her legs around his black, canvas clad hips. Her head fell back as Toby’s mouth moved on her neck, sliding up and down before descending to her shoulder, where he bit down with something less than gentleness. Faith gasped and tightened her legs. Toby took this as an invitation to bring his hands to her chest, where he weighed a breast in each hand, squeezing slightly when she made a sound that spoke of pleasure. His thumb drifted over one of her nipples as he turned his attention back to her mouth. Faith breathed an unintelligible word into his mouth as his tongue staked claim, licking her teeth with increasing hunger. Faith wiggled into him and looked at him at the same time, noting with appreciation how his eyes darkened to a deeper green as she did so.

“You keep that up, we’re not gonna have time for that mausoleum.” He grunted hoarsely, pressing back into her. She was pleased to find that she wasn’t the only one getting crazy turned on, if she could judge by the hardening object that made itself known between her legs. She laughed huskily. “And that’s a problem for you?” She asked teasingly.

“It’s definitely becoming less and less of one.”

She hopped down from the tombstone. “Too bad I’m not willing to share you with pryin’ eyes, babe, otherwise here would be just fine.”

She headed to the nearest mausoleum in some haste. Toby was all too happy to follow.

The First looked into the cage before it, and laughed delightedly. The figure inside writhed in pained desperation, as it strained against its mystical bonds. A small black-clawed hand moved between the bars and rested against the furry hide that flinched away, as pure, unadulterated evil moved from the sharp edged fingers and into the body of the prisoner. A howl, half pain, half pleasure, echoed through the night.

Angel looked on with a scowl, hating the sight, even while some buried part of him rejoiced in it. The First turned towards him, and the scowl quickly became a smirk.

“We’re done here.” The First told him, its little girl voice clashing badly with the torturous act it had just committed. It rested dripping fingers against the bars. “The Weapon is fully prepared.”

A.N 2- Two things: Sorry it took me so damn long to post this. The Veronica Mars fic I’m writing is filling my brain almost to capacity. Also, sorry this update is short as shit, but I figure, you want the goods, you’ll settle for me not writing crap just to take up space. And for all you Willow/Oz fans out there, don’t worry, you’ll get yer fill next chapter. And Fre..llyria, we’ll get back to her, too. Her character deserves some serious quality time between me and the keyboard. Argh. So much to write, so little brain space to get it all done….