The first thing Xander had done after opening the door and finding the four survivors of the L.A. apocalypse on his doorstep was take a swing at Spike. The punch had connected, knocking him back against the pile of baggage and sending him, arms pinwheeling, to the ground. Willow's shocked protest and Angel's protective growl had been cut off by Xander's immediate extension of a hand up. The disgruntled vampire had accepted the offer of assistance, smiling ruefully.

"Nope. Not the First."

"Good to know. Come in, then, Spike." And that was all he said as he turned his back on the four surprised guests on his porch and made his way back into the darkened house. They had looked at one another, questions on their lips and in their eyes, but Spike had simply shrugged and followed.

"Hate to say it, but it's good to see you again, Harris." He followed Xander through a narrow entry way, catching a glimpse of a shadowed parlor with a low, worn sofa-bed with rumpled sheets, and into a small kitchen. He blinked when Xander flipped the light switch, the lamp over the table humming and spitting for a long moment before settling down to a dull glow. The man moved quickly to the sink, turning on the water and flicking up his eyepatch to splash his face. After resettling the scrap of cloth, he lowered his hands to grip the sink's edge, his entire body tense.

"We thought you were dead." His voice was a raspy murmur, and Spike was surprised by the level of relief in his tone.

"Actually," Willow, who had followed the two men into the room, interrupted, "Andrew told Giles about him ages ago. He got some of us - the researchers - onto it, but we really haven't been able to figure out what happened. Andrew said that Spike didn't want us to know, though, so we've had to keep mum."

"And of course his Royal Stuff-Shirtedness was only following my wishes; nothin' to do with keeping me away from a certain Slayer?" Spike's voice was heavy with irony, and no little pain.

"Actually, we thought it was what you wanted. A chance to move on, maybe to prove that you could still be a good man without Buffy looking over your shoulder. For all we knew, you didn't love her anymore."

"Fat chance of that," Xander muttered.

"Well, he was sleeping with Illyria." Willow meeped when Spike shot her a glare.

"With who?" Xander spun around, pressing his back to the counter behind him and fixing his full attention on Spike for the first time.

"Blue chick, so high?" Spike gestured accordingly. "Hell, whelp, you had the right of it. Still love the Slayer, always gonna love the Slayer. But she and I've been over for a long time, and it's no use pretending otherwise."

"So you jump into bed with the next supergirl you meet?" Xander's appraising look was unexpectedly accusing, and Spike felt warmed at the thought that the boy might've come around to the thought of him and Buffy together. That was the only thing that kept him from snapping back.

"Not as such, no." Willow turned a surprised glance his direction at his calm tone, but he just nodded in her direction. She blinked, and looked away. "Look, Harris. Things have been rough, and Blue and I went in for some mutual comfort. Have you heard what happened a few weeks ago?"

Xander was surprised at the change in topic. "Just that something big went down, and Willow popped out of Council offices with no warning. Giles called to give me a heads-up, and the girls had some funky dreams, but that was all."

Spike nodded. "I suppose you'd heard about Angel goin' bad?"

"Andrew referring to him as 'Sith Angelus' in his reports kinda clued me in, yeah." That earned him a chuckle.

"He had us fooled, too. Look. Angel did some pretty foul things, yeah, but his final intent was noble enough. Three weeks ago, or thereabouts, we took out the Circle of the Black Thorn - the Senior Partners' Earthly associates."

"Senior Partners?"

Spike shook his head in disbelief. "They didn't tell you anything?"

"Kinda out of the loop. Africa's not exactly known for its reliable phone service, and Angel's doings didn't exactly make the memo circuit."

"That's not... entirely true." Willow blushed. "I'm pretty sure Giles knew. He wouldn't help Fred - wouldn't let me help Fred - because he knew that, if Angel decided to infiltrate the organization, he needed to have sacrificed one of his people. Since there was no guarantee we could do anything for her, he decided to let her go."

"That rat bastard!" Angel, who had been lurking in the entry way with Illyria, broke into the room. "He chose who would die? We lost Wes because of him!"

"What? No!" Willow paled. "I kept working on the problem, even after he told me not to. The only thing I could have done was make sure that Illyria couldn't rise. Nothing would have saved Fred."

"And Wes would've done his thing either way; mighta gone sooner, if he hadn't had Blue to watch out for." Spike extended a hand to Illyria, who entered the kitchen and leaned against him. Willow reached out to grip her hand.

"I honestly think that things turned out for the best. Not that Giles could know that, but his guilt is something to be dealt with another time. We still have Illyria, and Fred, and we did win in L.A..." Illyria squeezed her hand back.

"Hold up! Not that I have a clue in hell what's going on here, but I gotta know. Who are you?" He pointed at Illyria. "How is Fred still around, if she was supposed to be killed? And finally, how the fuck did Angel get into my house!?"

"Um," stammered Angel. "Surprise?"

Explanations took a while, but they finally got back around to the question of Angel.

"You aren't human." Xander inhaled sharply; his glance darted between the four bodies crowded into his tiny kitchen. "Are any of you human?"

"Human is a noun of arbitrarily assigned meaning; we each have a soul and are thus imbued with what is, perhaps, the essence of humanity, but none but the witch is human."

Spike and Angel both nodded as Illyria spoke, but Willow simply scowled at Xander.

"Don't look at me like that, Wils! You show up with color-change barbie and the undead twins and expect me to not ask? Wouldn't matter if something had happened - unless you went all veiny again, I guess, but I've got a box of yellow crayons in the back for emergencies." Xander attempted a smile that barely curled his lips, let alone reached his eye.

"Not funny, Xander." Willow crossed her arms and deepened her glare. "Very not funny."

Xander winced. "I know." He sighed and some of the tension went out of him; he leaned back against the doorframe and again looked his guests over. "Surprised, aren't I? Haven't talked to anyone in a few weeks, and suddenly I've got Deadboy - who's breathing - and Spike - who's not nearly as immolated as I thought he was - being escorted into my kitchen by my long-time-no-see best friend and some blue chick. The jokes may be coming, but they're still in transit." He huffed. "What the hell are you doing here, anyway?"

Willow spread her hands in questioning supplication. "Where else were we supposed to go?"

There was a long beat. "So. Who wants to tell me just how Angel got into my house without an invite?"

"He may not be human, but he's not a vampire, either." Willow shrugged. "We're not really sure what he is."

"And this happened how?"

Angel spoke. "There was a prophecy. It said that the vampire with a soul will play a major role in the apocalypse and become mortal. So the apocalypse came, I fought, and here I am."

"Great. So now you're gonna be running around squealing your superiority?" He turned pleading eyes on Willow. "Why couldn't Spike have gotten it?"

Spike jolted. "What, you think I wouldn't act all superior if it was me?"

Xander snickered. "You already do. And at least you've earned it." At the incredulous gazes that were sent his way, he rushed to defend himself. "Look, guys, I may be judgmental-boy, but I'm not blind." He stopped, shook his head, and laughed. "Much. Think about it. Angel gets cursed with a soul, spends a century slogging around in the gutter, gets shown a pretty girl as a prize - speaking of which, pedophilia much? She was fifteen! - and suddenly he's a Champion of the Powers that Be. Except that, until he runs off to L.A., he really doesn't do much Champion-ing. More swanning in with the cryptic and seducing the underage girl before going all evil, getting sent to hell, then breaking said girl's heart and running away. Of course, he's not so much for staying away. Instead, he shows up and plays the stalker just often enough to keep the girl from ever really moving on. Show me the good in that. And then we've got Spike. Godawful hair, but not quite so heavy on the mousse, so that's one point in his favor. Unsouled evil guy shows up, finds out his grandad's all gung-ho about the world-endage, and joins forces with his mortal enemy to save it. I'm glossing over the evil-doing; just take it as read. Then he leaves town, his girl dumps him, he comes back and scares the pants off me and causes serious relationship turmoil amongst the Scooby set, but the only serious injury isn't actually his fault. Leaves again, comes back, bad things happen, and then he's got a chip in his brain that keeps him from harming humans. Now, this is a guy with a serious reputation amongst the local baddies, but instead of stealing cash and buying blood or getting some minions to bring him dead bodies to suck on, he comes to his aforementioned mortal enemies and starts helping out in exchange for protection. They treat him like shit, which I really can't argue with, but he never burns the house down around them. Later still, he starts helping out of his own accord, falls in love with the same girl, looks out for her sister even after the girl dies, continues to get treated like shit - especially by the girl in question - and makes a major mistake, after which he runs away to get his soul. Comes back, sacrifices himself for the good of humanity, and saves the world. Again. Apparently wakes up a few weeks later in L.A., and rather than ditch the guys in need for the woman he loves, he sticks around and, you guessed it, saves the world." Xander mimed balancing his palms. "Tough choice."

"You just ignored everything he did wrong!" Angel protested.

"C'mon, Peaches, tell me how you really feel." Spike was shell-shocked, but that didn't stop him from jabbing at his Grandsire.

"Everything he did wrong when he was supposed to be incapable of caring what was wrong or right? When he was inherently evil? What can I say? I'm biased." Xander snickered, then sobered. "I've never liked you, Angel, and if you didn't show up with two of my best friends, you would never have been allowed in this house. But you did, and I'm going to assume that there's more to you than the self-centered, brooding child you were when I met you and let you stay. If, however, any harm comes to my friends or to the Slayers under my care - emotional or physical - then I will personally see to it that you fully understand the meaning of your newfound mortality."

"Bloody hell." Spike's whisper was the only sound in the silent room, the burble of the refrigerator's coolant system loud in the stillness.

Angel drew himself up from his slumped-shouldered posture and extended a hand. "Deal."

Xander looked at the hand, looked at Angel, at Willow, and finally at Spike. Then he shrugged and shook it. "Don't fuck up."

Spike looked back and forth between them. "Two best friends?"

Xander shrugged again. "I was in the moment. We'll work up to it." He ducked his head, suddenly shy. "If you're sticking around, I mean."

Spike gaped again, but quickly recovered. "Well, I don't particularly like the thought of spending the rest of my unlife in Africa, but Red here plans to drag me kicking and screaming to the Council steps, so I'll be around in the more general sense."

They exchanged wry smirks, covering up their nerves, before Xander addressed himself to Illyria. "So. What about you, then? Are you evil?" There was no malice in Xander's question, merely wary curiosity.

"Amoral," Willow interjected.

"Pre-moral." Illyria nodded sharply.

Xander took a moment to process, then nodded in return. "Yeah. I dated a girl like that. Well, not so much with the pre- as the a-, but still. Not big with the guiding compass, but even when she got her powers back she could understand human morality. Wasn't much for accommodation or acceptance of it, but she understood it. Spike, too. Turned into helpful," and here Spike exclaimed in offense, causing Xander to emphasize his next words, "*evil* vampire long before he got the soul. Way I see it, that just makes the decisions easier to make, because the wrong ones bite you in the ass. Although to hear Angel-cakes over there talk about it, soul's just a personality transplant. Somethin' there doesn't sit right, but I can't figure what it might be..." He mused mockingly, sneering at the flinching ex-vampire.

He spent a long moment staring at each of his guests in turn. "The only one here who hasn't been a villain at one point or another is me!" Xander whined.

"I never acted out of villainous intent. My internship as the resident 'Big Bad' was merely due to the lack of an appropriate acclimatization period." Only Illyria could enmesh condescension and ass-covering so thoroughly.

"Still. We've got what? Super-vamp," he nodded at Spike, who nodded back. "Super-witch," and Willow bobbed in a tiny curtsy. "Super-God-thing," to which Illyria only favored him with her non-communicative gaze. "And super-something-man." Xander turned to look at Angel, truly taking him in for the first time since his arrival. "What are you, anyway?"

Angel shrugged. "This Shanshu thing doesn't come with an instruction manual. Though I'm hoping there's some kind of warranty."

Xander goggled, then giggled. He cut off the undignified noise as soon as it began, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. They all had, of course, and the twist of Willow's lips had him choking and spiralling off into laughter.

After a few long minutes the laughter subsided, and Xander moved towards the 'fridge. "Have you guys been up all night? I've got to wake the girls up soon, and you can crash in their beds, if you want. Or I've got milk, juice, coffee and espresso, if you're still good to go."

"I'm still jazzed from the fight, actually. I'd just about kill for a coffee, though." Willow pulled out one of the three chairs around the tiny table and collapsed into it, Spike and Angel following suit and leaving Illyria to stand, alert, in the doorway.

"Fight?" Xander hummed his question as he pulled a yellow-glazed coffee-making monstrosity out of a cupboard, followed by two large tins.

"Whoa, boy. You're decked out!" Willow craned her neck to see the appliance around Xander's bulk.

Xander flushed. "There's good coffee around here, and since I'm now research-king, I demand my caffeination. You three want?" He gestured with the coffee scoop at the others, nodding when Angel and Spike accepted his offer of espresso. Illyria requested juice, which Willow moved to fetch for her.

"So. What's this about a fight?"

They proceeded to tell him about the demons they had faced that night, and were surprised when he bolted from the room, calling for Angel and Spike to follow him, leaving Willow and Illyria to finish making the drinks.

Several minutes later, the bed in the parlor was folded back into a couch and open books were scattered around a laptop on the coffee table. Xander was grunting questions at the other two, who paused in flipping through their volumes to peer over his shoulder at the Demons, Demons, Demons database.

Willow brought in a tiny yellow cup on a tiny yellow saucer and placed it precisely before Angel on the table. The minute adjustments and the rigorous way she held her hands in check tipped Xander off.

"You had some, didn't you?" He fixed an accusing eye on her, and he saw caffeine-induced giddiness pinwheeling in her eyes before she ducked her head.

"Nope," she assured him.

He brought his full gaze to bear on the top of her head, and apparently losing an eye had only increased its effectiveness, because as soon as she peeked up at him, she gulped and nodded.

"Maybe a little."

"Maybe she had to try out the machine four times before she was convinced that Angel's first espresso as a mortal would be up to par." Illyria's tone was wry, and Xander shot her a smirk. She smiled, slow and lazy, though her body was as erect as it had been before she had gained access to Fred's thought patterns.

"Well, the cups are little!" Willow punctuated her weak argument with a sideways nod that sent Xander into double- and triple-take land. That particular quirk was one he would have sworn was patented by the bleached wonder-vamp who was watching the whole display through lidded, amused eyes.

Angel chuckled, which surprised Xander more than anything else he had witnessed in his admittedly surprising morning. "Guess we won't have to worry about her falling asleep." He picked up the cup she had brought him and took a sip. "All that practice paid off. This is good."

Willow smiled and collapsed into a tailor's seat in front of the coffee table. "What've we got?"

"I'm guessing, based on your descriptions, that the demons you fought had taken over a K'Thgar nest. They're burrowers, built like boulders with tusks, and utterly non-violent. They snack on the bugs that grow in mulch piles; judging from the lack of rotting gunky stuff in the cave, I'm saying that they got cleaned out a while ago. I still haven't found a demon that matches up with the dead body you found, but the three you fought are called Uvumi. They were created as warriors for some immortal's private army, and he sold some of them off as gladiator stock. Since they have to be bred magically, I'm guessing you found some escapees. And since both the army and the games are in another dimension, someone must have helped them get away."

"Whoa. Go, Xander." Willow leaned over the coffee table, twisting her torso to look at the screen. The picture was old, hand-drawn and fuzzy, but definitely the same demon.

"Told you. I am the king of research." He smirked. "You guys need anything? I've gotta go wake the girls up, then there's breakfast to be made. I'm introducing them to a diet of all things grease and starch."

"Feed me!" Willow commanded, and the other three nodded. Xander just smirked and began making his way up the stairs.

"Who're these girls he keeps talking about?" Spike asked, commandeering the computer.

Willow's response was punctuated by Xander pounding on a door and bellowing in some unfamiliar language. She laughed and tried again. "I told you, Xander's job for the Council is rounding up new Slayers. He's been working for almost a year, and he's brought back almost a dozen."

"Even dozen, now, with these two. Giles is trying to get me to go back to England since he's got someone working their way north from South Africa. Apparently my girls are a bit harder to handle than some of the others." Xander started speaking before he even got to the bottom of the stairs, and he turned into the kitchen before he finished. The others got to their feet and followed him in.

"I've heard that, actually. But nobody told me what was wrong." Willow's question was implied, and Xander laughed.

"They're taking to the training fine, but apparently the Council is having trouble fitting them with Watchers. I'm s'posed to go back and set things straight."

"You really are coming back?" Willow squeaked, jumping on him and almost making him drop the carton of eggs he had pulled from the refrigerator.

"Down, girl. Yeah, think so. It's been a year, and there's no law that says I can't come back if I miss it." He started breaking eggs into a bowl, then turned to pick up the cheese he had set on the counter while the pan heated.

"You eat like this every day?" Spike asked. "Not exactly the local cuisine."

"No, it's not, is it?" Xander grinned. "Tonight's a big night, so I went hog-wild and drove into Bengo for some goodies. You guys just got lucky."

"Big night?" Angel asked, helping Xander open the package of bacon.

"If you guys don't crash before then, you're welcome to come along and find out." It was clear that that was all Xander was going to say on the subject, so everyone returned their attention to the tasks of making more coffee, helping with the food, or, in Illyria's case, listening attentively at the door.

"The females upstairs converse in a language other than your own. How do you communicate?" She asked.

"My Portuguese is decent, but my Bantu doesn't bear consideration. Sara does most of the translating, but her Portuguese is pretty rough on its own. Mostly we get by in French."

"Sara?" Willow accepted a whisk with a grin and turned to her task.

"One of my Slayers. She came with me from Zambia. Ducks is from Lunda Sul, to the East."

"Ducks?" Willow felt like she was stuck in repeat mode, but new-and-improved Xander was seriously weird.

"Other Slayer. Don't even ask what her real name is; I could probably get it out, but I'd have to lie down afterwards." Xander grinned, bright and happy.

"You with responsibility and all, Whelp. 'S beyond strange." Spike dodged the rubber-band that came flying his direction with a laugh.

That was, of course, the cue for two lanky teenagers to spill into the room. They pulled up short just inside the doorway and settled quickly into defensive positions, waiting for Xander's command. At his barked comment, however, they relaxed.

"Good morning." The eldest, Sara, spoke in stilted English. She nudged Ducks, who repeated the nicety.

Xander rattled off a long stream of French with interjections in a rougher, local dialect that had both of the girls nodding their heads and looking curiously at the intruders in their home. Finally, he pointed at each in turn and spoke their names, prompting waves, salutes, and nods.

"Would you guys mind eating in the living room? I need to talk to the girls and you're freaking them out." Xander shrugged apologetically, but the others made no protest as they left the room.

After a few minutes he brought in loaded plates, but left again with little more than a smile. Spike and Angel had draped themselves over the couch while Willow thumbed through the books on the table and Illyria bobbed around the room, poking through Xander's heavily laden shelves. They ate without speaking, and were barely finished when Sara ducked through the entryway and out onto the front porch, returning to the kitchen moments later bearing their bags. There was a dull thunking in the other room and some low murmurs punctuated with high-pitched hissing from one of the girls, but soon Xander re-appeared, flanked by his Slayer escort.

"Here ya go," he offered Spike the mug he held. "It's gonna taste kinda funky - I just dunked the bag in boiling water - but Dawn taught me ages ago that heating blood in a pan was a disgusting task. So this is the best you're gonna get until we reach someplace with a microwave."

"Thanks." Spike took the mug and stared at it. He sniffed, then took a drink. "A bit chemical, but not too bad. If it's a trouble, I can drink it cold."

"Can I just veto that on grounds of 'ew'?" Xander laughed. "Anyway. The girls have a run, then school, then they're going down to the clinic for first-aid training before tonight, so they've got to head out." He stood aside and let them come forward.

"Goodbye. It was... a pleasure to meet you." Sara stammered slightly, but got the words out.

Ducks was more curt. "Goodbye." She nodded sharply, then took Sara's elbow, grabbed her trainers from the jumble of shoes by the door, and left.

"Well," Xander spread his hands. "Apparently we've got some work to do on manners. Sorry, but she's not totally comfortable with strangers."

"Is there anything we can do?" Willow was still bouncing slightly where she leaned against the couch, but her movements were less manic than before.

"Unfortunately not. As far as I can tell, Ducks is better able to sense demons in the vicinity than any Slayer I've ever met. Buffy was always terrible at that, and Sara's not much better. Some of the other girls were pretty decent, but... Having you guys around is making her tense. She'll get better - she eventually got used to the Truddik down at the clinic - but it'll take a few days." Xander pushed at Willow's hip with her foot, scooting her along so she was pressed against Spike's legs, and collapsed to the floor against the arm of the couch.

"So, now that we've invaded your life, what're you gonna do with us?" Spike asked, toying with a strand of Willow's hair that was spread over his thigh.

"Unfortunately, you at least are stuck here for the day. I've got some errands to run this morning, and I thought I'd take Willow with me when I head to the clinic this afternoon, but I'd appreciate it if the rest of you could keep a low profile until I get a chance to let people know that you're staying with me." He knocked back his coffee and rose to his feet. "Sorry to bail on you so soon, but duty calls. I should be back with some lunch in a few hours - if you guys could keep looking for more information on any of the demons you found, that'd be great. Or you could crash upstairs, or there're some novels and comic books on that shelf. Just - make yourselves at home." With another hug for Willow and a nod to Spike, he was gone.

"I was only gone for a year; when the hell did he grow up?" Spike complained.