Justice League Xander:

Choices We Make

By Paradox761


Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters, nor do I claim to. No copyright infringement is intended so please don't sue, I don't have any money anyway.

Spoilers: "Double Date" (JLU)

Summary: "When your world view changes and you start questioning everything, how long before you start questioning yourself as well?" Xander finds himself pondering this, with some old friends and some new enemies along for the ride.

Author's note: This story is part of the Justice League Xander series, and a direct sequel to "No Answers, Just Questions" so that story should be read before you read this one. The rest of the series, along with all my other stories, can be found at my website (link above). Enjoy :)


The drive to the marina was short and mostly quiet. Short, because Huntress had her foot to the floor the entire time. And quiet, because there really wasn't anything left for either of them to say. The Question had made his case, and Huntress had made her choice. And as he stared out the car window, he found himself once again questioning the choices that he had made that had led them to this point. He had never felt so helpless in his life. But then, that wasn't true, he realized. Another moment from his past came to mind. That day on Kingman's Bluff, kneeling on the ground holding his best friend as she cried. Willow was in so much pain, and there wasn't anything that he could do to take it away. He saw first hand what taking a human life had done to her, and now he feared he was about to go through it all again with another person that he cared about. Something Willow had once said to him suddenly came to mind.

"Revenge doesn't make the pain go away."

"And what Hallmark card did you get that little nugget of wisdom from?" Huntress asked, not taking her eyes from the road.

Her voice shook him out of his daze. He hadn't even realized that he had said it out loud. "Something Willow said to me once, actually. You heard about what happened to her girlfriend Tara, right?"

"I know she killed the son of a bitch that did it," Huntress answered. "Good for her."

"And when his death didn't quell the fire that burned in her soul, she tried to end the world."

This time Huntress did take her eyes of the road for a second, glancing over at him. "But you stopped her," she said.

Question shook his head. "I told her that I loved her. She made the choice to stop. The anger and hatred that she was going to unleash on the world turned inward, and it almost consumed her. There are days when that thought alone makes me wish that I hadn't interfered. She spent months with the coven in Devon, learning how to control her magic, and how to live with what she had done. From what she told me, it was the latter of the two that was the most difficult. The hardest thing, she said, was learning to accept that what she had done did not define who she was. Once she had done that, she knew that she was ready to come home. If you let your sins define you, you'll never escape from them."

The rest of the ride passed in silence until they reached the marina. Huntress maneuvered the muscle car through the parking area, bringing it to a screeching halt in front of a chain link fence and a small sign that read 'Slip 17'. She had one hand on the door handle already as she shut the engine off and held the keys out for Question to take. He put his hand over hers, causing her to turn and look at him. "The road to being a better person starts with a single choice," he said. Then he took the keys and got out of the car without waiting for a response.

He had done all he could, he thought. The rest was up to her.


Mandragora's distinctive silhouette was easy to pick out standing at the end of the dock, flanked by eight of his men. They were all looking up at the ship that was just starting to dock, so none of them saw Question and Huntress approach.

"Mandragora!" Huntress shouted, drawing her crossbow from the holster on her thigh.

Question rolled his eye under his mask as the group of men all turned. "So much for the element of surprise," he mumbled.

Contrary to Mandragora's playful demeanor outside of the safe house, his face betrayed his obvious irritation. "We don't have time for this!" he growled to his men. "Take care of them!" The man standing closest to the albino mobster reached into his jacket. "No, no guns," Mandragora said. "We can't afford to draw any unwanted attention."

The thug just smiled and cracked his knuckles. "No problem," he said.

Question rolled his eye again as the group of henchmen started toward the two vigilantes. "You're just going to make her madder," Question warned. Mandragora didn't respond, he just turned back to face the ship. Huntress actually smiled as she slipped her crossbow back into its holster.

The first goon to reach Huntress threw a haymaker, which she easily dodged. She swung and caught him just under the chin with a punch that lifted him off the ground, sending him sprawled out onto the dock. The crack of his jaw breaking seemed to echo through the night. There was a brief moment of stunned silence, followed by complete chaos.

The hoodlums rushed the pair, no doubt thinking that even if the two vigilantes were better fighters, they could overwhelm them. Of course, not knowing anything about slayers, they had no idea what they were really up against. Huntress started tossing them around like rag dolls. One of the men took a swing at Question. He caught his arm and spun around, throwing him into another thug and sending them both to the ground. Question was worried. Not about fighting, but he knew that pretty soon the henchmen would realize the mistake they had made and one of them would pull their gun, regardless of what their boss had said. He tried to keep his eye out for any sudden movements toward a possible concealed weapon, but that was rather difficult to do while he was under attack. He dodged another punch and returned with one of his own, splitting his would-be assailant's lip in the process. He cast a glance toward Huntress. Most of the men surrounding her were now cradling broken limbs and wearing pained expressions on their faces.

That's when Question saw the gun. The creep was behind Huntress, picking himself up off the ground and pulling a small pistol out of a holster strapped to his ankle. Unfortunately what Question didn't see was the fist coming straight at his head. He was just about to shout a warning to Huntress when his head suddenly felt like it was trying to escape from his body. He staggered, but he stayed on his feet. His ears were still ringing when he looked up and saw the thug that had delivered the blow making a lunge at him. He managed to get out of the way and grab the man's shirt as he passed, throwing him head first into a nearby cargo crate. The hood slumped to the ground, unconscious. When Question looked back up the henchman behind Huntress was standing now and starting to raise his gun. His head was still swimming, but there wasn't enough time to shout a warning even if his brain could form one. The gun cocked, and Huntress's ears perked up when she heard the sound. She started to turn, but it was too late. The thug's finger squeezed the trigger just as a foot intersected with his hand, sending it flying up into the air. The gun went off and the bullet flew upward, tearing through a rope that was holding a nearby cargo crate suspended from a crane before shattering a window in the wheelhouse of the ship. Mandragora turned back toward the melee with a frown. For a moment, everything stopped again. The sound of the gunshot had drawn everyone's attention to the newcomer in the fray. It was a young African-American woman, wearing cargo pants and a hooded sweatshirt.

"Sorry I'm late," she quipped when she realized that everyone was staring at her. Under his mask, Question smiled and silently thanked every god that he had ever heard of that Tamika had answered her phone earlier that night.

Huntress instantly knew that whoever this was, she was a slayer. "I'd say you were right on time," she responded with a grin of her own.

And just like that, the fight was on again. The thugs concentrated mainly on the slayers this time, recognizing them as the primary threat. This gave Question a chance to look around for Mandragora. He spotted the rotund mobster still standing near the ship, watching as the gangplank was slowly lowered into place. Question may not have wanted Huntress to kill him, but that didn't mean that he wanted to see the son of a bitch get away either. He quickly made his way down the dock toward the ship where Mandragora stood with his back turned. Question jumped onto his back and wrapped his arms around Mandragora's neck, yanking hard to try and bring the mob boss to the ground. He may as well have been trying to down a hippo with his bare hands, Mandragora didn't budge. At first, Question wasn't even sure if the albino had even noticed him there. Then he felt a pair of hands latch onto his arms, and he silently wondered what the hell he had been thinking when he jumped onto the mobster's back. Mandragora yelled as he ran backwards and slammed Question between himself and a nearby stack of cargo crates. All of the air that he thought he owned was expelled from his body, and when he tried to inhale again he found that he couldn't. Mandragora let go and Question slumped to the ground. His vision started to close in and he knew that he was going to pass out if he didn't start breathing again soon. After what seemed like an eternity he inhaled sharply and winced at the pain that he was sure was from one or two cracked ribs.

Mandragora turned around and found himself staring down the business end of a crossbow. The fight was over. Mandragora's men were all either unconscious or wishing that they were. Question picked himself up off the ground as his head started to clear and took a few steps away. Behind Huntress he could see Tamika standing silently with a stunned look on her face.

"End of the line," Huntress said softly. "No more tricks, no more lies, no one left to stand between you and what you've got coming to you." Mandragora looked nervous, but he didn't say anything. "What's the matter? First time in your life you don't have anything to say?"

The silence stretched for a moment before it was broken by the sound of footsteps running down the metal gangplank of the ship. Question turned to see a chubby little boy with white hair and pink eyes running off of the ship. "Papa!" he shouted. Mandragora turned and lowered himself to one knee, catching the boy in a hug.

"Edgar," Mandragora said with a smile as he hugged the child. It wasn't the cunning grin of a snake oil salesman that Question had come to expect from the mobster, which unnerved him all the more. It was a smile of real affection and relief. Question swallowed hard. Things had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.

If Tamika looked scared before, now she looked terrified. Huntress kept readjusting her grip on her crossbow and nervously licking her lips. Now, she was the one who was at a loss for words. Mandragora stood up and pushed the boy behind his legs. "During my last trip to the old country, an old rival of mine had my son kidnapped," he said. "It took me this long to arrange for his release."

Huntress's eyes locked onto the little boy peeking out from behind his father's legs. And all she could think about was that little girl that she had once been, hiding in the closet while her parents were being murdered. How terrified she had been, and the path that that one defining moment had set her life on. And now here she was, repeating the cycle. Is that really what she wanted? Her whole life after that point, no one expected anything from her other than trouble, and she more than delivered. She told herself that that was just who she was, a bad seed, and there wasn't anything that she could do about it. But that was a cop out. She made the choices that kept her on that road, and no matter what had happened to her in the past she had to take responsibility for that if she wanted to change. That was the real question. Not what kind of person was she, but what kind of person did she want to be. The choice was hers. It always had been.

On the outside, Huntress's expression remained unreadable. Mandragora motioned for his son to get out of harm's way, pushing him toward the same stack of cargo crates that he had slammed Question against moments before. Edgar obeyed his father with a sad look on his face and ran behind the crates. For a moment, no one moved and time seemed to stand still.

Huntress took a step back, raised her arm higher into the air and pulled the trigger. The crossbow bolt flew through the air, sailing over Mandragora's head and slicing through the same frayed rope that the bullet that had been meant for Huntress had struck earlier. This time, the rope snapped. Mandragora looked up just in time to see the large crate the rope had been holding coming down straight toward him. The crate crashed into him and broke open on the dock. When the dust cleared, Mandragora was half buried in bricks and broken wood. He was dazed and bleeding from the head, but he was still alive.

Question made his way over to Huntress as she slipped her crossbow back into the holster on her leg. She stared at the mob boss a moment longer before she seemed satisfied that he wasn't going anywhere. "Give me your phone," she said when she finally turned to Question. He pulled his phone out of his coat pocket and handed it to her. She flipped it open, found the name she was looking for in the directory and hit send. "Agent Faraday, this is the Huntress. You might want to come down to the marina, slip 17. I've got a present for you. I even gift wrapped it." She clicked the phone shut before the FBI agent had a chance to respond and handed it back to Question.

"Unless you want to answer a lot of awkward questions from the Feds, I suggest we make our exit," Question said, slipping the phone back into his pocket.

Huntress looked at Mandragora again, almost wistfully. Nothing she did to him would ever make her feel better about what he had done to her, she realized that now. "Yeah," she said softly. "Okay."

"We can regroup on the roof of that building," Question said, pointing to a nearby warehouse. "Plan our next move from there." He reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of flex cuffs. "Mika, if you wouldn't mind, cuff the rest of these guys up and meet us up there."

"You got it, Boss," Tamika said with a smile.


Question stood at the edge of a warehouse rooftop overlooking the marina. He watched as a group of paramedics tried to extricate Mandragora from under the pieces of the broken cargo crate that had crashed down on him. A couple of FBI agents stood back and watched as they checked the corpulent mobster for injuries. The marina was crawling with cops, rounding up stragglers and trying to figure out what had happened. He heard the squeak of the metal security door behind him and turned to see Tamika crossing the roof.

"I finished gift wrapping the rest of Mandragora's goons for the HCPD," she said. "I made it to the building before any of the cops saw me." She joined Question at the edge of the roof, looking down on the organized chaos. "This vigilante thing is pretty fun, I can see why you like it so much. Sure beats the hell out of fighting demons. If you ever need back-up again, just let me know."

"I may have to take you up on that, you did a great job down there," Question said, turning to face his senior slayer.

"Can you take that mask off now, it's starting to creep me out."

Question reached into his pocket and fished out the aerosol of de-bonding solution. "It's funny," he said. "When I first put this mask on, it scared me. I was afraid that I was going to lose myself behind it." Question sprayed the aerosol on his face, releasing the Pseudoderm mask from his skin. The chemical reaction spread to his clothes, turning them back to their original colors. He reached up and peeled the mask off. "Now I forget I'm even wearing it half the time," Xander said. "I think that scares me even more."

Tamika put her arm around her watcher and friend. "You won't get lost," she said. "Not as long as you have me around. I'll come find you if you do, that's a promise."

Xander put his arm around her and squeezed. "Thanks Mika," he said, giving her a smile. "That means a lot coming from you."

"So, where's Faith?" Tamika asked after a moment.

"Oh, she found a private spot to get changed. She keeps a spare change of clothes in a secret pocket in her cape. I figured we'd be less conspicuous if we made our exit sans costumes."

"What about me, I wasn't wearing a costume? Somebody might spot me," Tamika pointed out.

Xander thought about that for a second, then he took his fedora off dropped it onto the slayer's head. "Here you go," he said with a grin.

Tamika chuckled. "Thanks Xander, you're all heart."

"It looks good on you," he said. He looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. "Maybe some day I'll give it to you for real."

Tamika looked surprised as the implications of what Xander said sank in. Then she smiled. "Maybe someday I'll accept it," she said. Xander just smiled back.

"It does look good on you," another voice said. Xander and Tamika both turned to see Faith walking across the roof. She was wearing a simple black tee-shirt and stretch pants. "You were pretty good down there," she said to Tamika.

"You two haven't been formally introduced yet, have you?" Xander asked. "Tamika, this is Faith Lehane, slayer extraordinaire. Faith, this is Tamika Watson, she's the senior slayer here in Hub City, and a very good friend."

"I knew there had to be somebody in this city keeping you in line, Xander," Faith said, holding her hand out. Tamika laughed. "It's good to meet you."

"You too," she said, shaking the elder slayer's hand. "You were…amazing tonight. I mean, Xander has told us stories about you, but they just don't do you justice. You more than live up to your reputation."

Faith looked at Xander and smiled. "I do all right," she said. "When the right watcher is watching my back."

"I'm glad Xander was right about you," Tamika said. "You don't know how glad. I was not looking forward to having to break in a new watcher, I'll tell you that much."

Faith's brow furrowed. "What are you talking about?"

Tamika looked back and forth between Faith and Xander. "You didn't tell her?"

Xander shrugged. "I didn't think she needed to know. She had to make her decision for the right reason."

"Know what?" Faith demanded. Xander didn't answer, so she looked to Tamika who was now nervously chewing on her bottom lip.

"He told me that he was so sure that you would do the right thing, that if he was wrong he was going to quit. Being a watcher, the Question, everything. He was that sure that he was right about you."

Faith looked at Xander and just stared at him for what seemed like an eternity. A myriad of emotions crossed her face. Shock, anger, confusion, amazement. "How?" she finally said. "How could you be that sure? Why would you risk so much, for me of all people?!" she half yelled and half cried.

"I told you that you had people who believed in you, Faith. People who care about you." Xander paused and glanced over at Tamika. "Sometimes that's all you need to keep you on the right path."

Faith calmly closed the distance between her and Xander, wrapped her arms around him and pulled him into a kiss. Xander was surprised at first, but after a moment he began returning the kiss in earnest.

Tamika smiled at first, but as the kiss continued longer and longer she cleared her throat. "Okay, this is passing cute and starting to venture into awkward." She pulled down the brim of Xander's fedora until it covered her eyes. "I'm going home, you two crazy kids have fun. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She paused. "Seriously. Don't." If Xander and Faith heard her they gave no indication. She sighed, pushed the brim of the hat back up and made her way to the door.

A moment later, Faith broke the kiss. She grabbed Xander's tie and started pulling him toward the door. "Where are we going?" he asked.

"Don't ask so many questions."


The next morning, Xander and Tamika were sitting in the library at the slayer dorm, a stack of books between them as they did research on a demon that one of the other slayers had spotted on patrol the night before. "I think this is it," Tamika said as she pushed an open book across the table to Xander. "Trish said the horns were swept back and the legs looked dog-like. And she said it smelled like…"

"Rotting meat, right. This looks like our guy," Xander said, skimming over the description in the book. "We better make sure we have plenty of blessed silver in the weapons cabinet. And while we're at it, somebody should make a holy water run to St. Anthony's."

"I'll add it to the chore wheel on the fridge. Why don't we send Beth and Kirsten on that patrol route tonight, they should be able to handle it."

Xander nodded. "Sounds good."

"Look at you two," a voice said coming from the library door. Xander and Tamika looked up to see Dr. Rodor entering the library, a newspaper under his arm. "Last night you took down the biggest mobster in the city, both figuratively and literally, and today it's business as usual."

"When business as usual is demons and vampires, beating up a bunch of thugs hardly seems like front page news," Xander said, motioning for Rodor to take a seat.

"I take it you haven't seen this morning's edition," Rodor said, taking the paper from under his arm and dropping it on the table. The picture on the front page was of six paramedics attempting to drag a dazed looking Steven Mandragora onto a gurney.

"Now there's a picture that's worth a thousand words," Tamika said. "And possibly several thousand dollars."

Xander chuckled. "The photographer better use the money to hire someone to start his car for him for a while."

"The article says that Mandragora suffered a concussion and a broken collar bone," Rodor said. "It also says that the Feds are so embarrassed by the whole situation that their deal with Mandragora is off, and they're starting to build a case against him. Apparently a few of the men the police picked up last night have started questioning their career choice in organized crime."

"Yeah, tangling with two slayers will make you question all kinds of things," Xander said.

"Not to mention a certain faceless vigilante," Tamika added with a smile. Xander smiled back.

"So what brings you here this morning, Tot? You get a new job as a paperboy?"

"Very funny, but no. I just happened to be in the neighborhood so I thought I'd drop by and bring my favorite heroes coffee and donuts."

"So where are the coffee and donuts?" Tamika asked.

"Six of my favorite heroes confiscated them from me downstairs," Rodor said. Xander laughed again. "Speaking of, are they doing what I think they're doing down there?"

"If you think they're watching Saturday morning cartoons, then yes," Xander answered.

"It's a little tradition that Xander started," Tamika said.

"It's a few hours every week when nothing is asked of them, where they can just relax and have fun and forget that the fate of the world rests on their collective shoulders. It's the least they deserve."

"I still find it remarkable how matter-of-fact you all are about all of this. I'm only peripherally involved and still there are days when I wake up that I can scarcely believe that it's all real. Don't you ever just stop and stand back in awe of it all?"

"It's been my experience that if you stop, you'll never get started again," Xander said. "I leave the big picture to people who are better suited for it. I'm just a soldier." Xander paused. "I guess, in a way, we all are. Whether we know it or not."

"What do you mean?" Rodor asked.

"There's no such thing as peripherally involved, Tot. Not with this war. You're either involved, or you're not involved, and you are involved. And we're damn lucky to have you, I might add."

"That's very kind of you to say Xander, thank you."

"Which brings me to a question that I've been meaning to ask you," Xander continued. "Did you honestly think with the Watchers running Twain Labs now that I wasn't going to get you your job back?"

"I hadn't really considered…well, I suppose it crossed my mind, but I couldn't…you got me my job back?!" Rodor babbled, finishing with a wide smile.

"No," Xander answered. Rodor's smile fell. "I got you a better job," Xander said after a dramatic pause. "How does head of research and development sound? With a seat on the board of directors, a hefty stock package, and the funds to greenlight any research project you want."

Rodor's jaw practically hit the floor. "That sounds…nice," he said, clearly stunned. "Are you serious? Head of R&D?!"

"With a corner office and a state of the art lab, the works," Xander added.

"Xander, I…I don't know what to say? How can I ever thank you?"

"There's no need Tot, you more than deserve it. You risked everything to blow the whistle on Twain and come to us, and you saved the lives of who knows how many slayers. It's the least we can do."

"Damn straight," Tamika added. She held her hand out to Dr. Rodor. "Congratulations, Doctor."

Rodor shook it. "Thank you, Ms. Watson. I will find a way to thank you for this Xander, I promise you that."

"You just make sure that Twain Labs keeps working on things to keep slayers alive, that'll be more than thanks enough."

Rodor smiled so wide Xander thought his face was going to crack in half. He reached over the table to shake Xander's hand. "You've got a deal. In fact, I have some ideas. I'll need to go over my notes…Oh, and I'll need to get my suit pressed, want to make sure I make a good impression. There's so much I have to do to prepare…" Rodor trailed off and he wandered out of the room, barely looking where he was going as he continued to mumble to himself about everything he had to do.

"That was fun," Xander said to Tamika with a smile. Tamika laughed.

They both turned back to their books and a few minutes later there was a soft knocking on the doorway of the library. Xander looked up to see sheepish looking Faith standing there. "Hey, Faith," he said with a smile.

"Xander, Tamika," she said in greeting. "A short blonde haired girl in Scooby Doo pajamas let me in, and then I just passed an old guy in the hall who was mumbling to himself. What kind of place are you running here, X?" she asked playfully.

Tamika cleared her throat and pushed herself up from the table. "Speaking of which, I better get downstairs before all the donuts are gone. I'll see you later Xander. Faith," she said with a nod before quickly ducking out of the room.

"What's up with her?" Faith asked.

"She thinks we bumped uglies last night and this is the awkward morning after."

"Ah," Faith said in realization. "Did you tell her that we didn't?"

"I did, but I don't think she believed me."

"Did you tell her that I wanted to but you said no because you said it took you eight years to earn my respect again after the first time and you didn't want to jump into anything without thinking and mess all of that up?"

"No, I think I left that part out."

"Ever the gentleman."

Xander just shrugged. "Did you see the paper?" he asked, pushing the newspaper that Rodor left across the table. "And people say there's no good news anymore."

Faith smiled as she looked down at the front page. "Maybe public humiliation and life in prison is a fate worse than death. That is, if the Feds can make a case against him."

"You know, Madragora was never charged for what he did to your parents. You could testify against him. There's no statute of limitation on murder."

"I've thought about it. I don't know if I can live through that again in court. I don't know if I can face him again without…doing something that I'll regret."

"Whatever you decide, I'll support you. I'll be right there with you, if that's what you want."

Faith smiled. "I know you will. Thank you."

"Have you talked to Giles yet?"

"This morning. I called him and told him pretty much everything. He was surprised at first, and I could tell by his voice that he was disappointed in me." Faith paused. Xander could tell that she was fighting back tears. "But then he told me that he was proud of me for making the right decision. He told me to give you his thanks, too. He said that he was glad that you were here for me."

Xander stood and crossed the room, enveloping Faith in a hug. "I'm glad I was here, too," he said softly as the hug broke. "So what's next? Back to Metropolis?"

"No, Giles and I discussed it and we both agreed that I shouldn't be on my own again just yet. Not that he doesn't trust me, he just thinks that I would do better with a tighter support system around me right now."

"So back to London then?"

"Not exactly. Giles suggested, and I agreed, that I should be assigned a watcher. I never really had a relationship with a watcher that didn't end in disaster. Kakistos killed my fist watcher, Gwendolyn Post turned out to be evil, Welsey turned me over to the watchers and then years later I almost tortured him to death. Giles said that if it's the right person, and if I give it a chance, the relationship between a slayer and her watcher can be the most rewarding relationship either will ever have."

Xander smiled as he thought about his slayers. "I'll say," he agreed. "Wait a minute, you actually agreed to take a watcher?"

Faith grinned. "Under one condition, that I get to chose who."

"Ah, well that makes more sense. Do you have someone in mind?"

"Yup," she answered cryptically.

"So? Don't keep me in suspense, where are you headed?"



"Boy, you're thick," Faith giggled. "I chose you, doofus. I want you to be my watcher. That is, if you'll have me."

"Faith, I…I would be honored. Does Giles know about this?"

"He thinks it's a great idea."

"I…I don't know what to say, Faith. You're putting a lot of trust in me, and for you I know that's not a decision you take lightly."

Faith smiled again. "Well, somebody once told me that the road to being a better person starts with a single choice. So I figured I'd better make it a good one."

Free will. They say that it's what makes human beings so special. It's our capacity for anger and hatred that make the ethical choices we make all the more meaningful. Likewise, it's our ability to feel love and compassion that makes our immoral misdeeds all the more wicked. But perhaps even more puzzling is our ability to be both good and evil at the same time. To do the right thing for the wrong reason, or vice versa. I've been so consumed with questioning my deeds and their motives that I never stopped to really examine what was in my heart. To have faith in myself. Faith was so sure of the person she was, that she never stopped to think about the person she could be. The person she wanted to be. It's true, that anyone is capable of making any choice. But maybe it's what happens after the choice that's important. It's the choices that we make consistently that define our character.

As for Faith and I, we've got each other to remind us of who we are, and who we can be. So I think we're going to be okay.

The End

Xander and Faith will return as The Question and Huntress in…

"Q is for Quarry"

Summary: As Xander and Faith spend more time together keeping the streets of Hub City clean from demonic and human evil alike, Faith finds herself falling in love with her new watcher. And Xander finds himself caught between his feelings and his responsibilities.

And then…

"Question Everything"

Summary: When Xander uncovers a conspiracy involving Cadmus and time travel, he gets a look at his own dark future. And the more he unravels this evil plot for world domination, the more the dark path his life has been set on seems inevitable. How much will he sacrifice to save the world?