Willow strode purposefully into the rec room of Slayer Central, her eyes searching. She soon realized that her target was nowhere to be seen and her face fell, but just for a moment before she determinedly set her jaw and entered the room, moving towards the occupants inside.

Looking up from his place on the couch, Andrew paused the game he was playing and smiled. "Hey Willow, what brings you to this neck of the..." He took note of the controller in his hand, the television, and all the electronic entertainment equipment in the room. "...woods?" he finished weakly.

The witch nodded curtly, not in a particularly chatty mood at the moment. "Andrew, hi, I was looking for Kennedy. Have you seen her?"

"Yes, actually," the blond answered, happy to be helpful. "She was just here a little while ago, but she went out with some of the other girls for training or something."

"Oh," breathed Willow, her disappointment clearly evident. "Did- Did she mention where she was goin'? I-I was kinda thinkin' we could, you know, pick up where we left off." She grinned hopefully, but it did little to eliminate the kicked puppy look.

Andrew shook his head. "No, sorry, she didn't say where. She left pretty quick. I think she was fearing my mad dance skillz," he added proudly. Rising to his feet, he quickly executed a series of maneuvers to demonstrate said skillz.

"You look like a wounded chicken," Willow commented off-handedly, her mind focused on more important matters.

He wasn't offended, choosing instead to simply smile knowingly. "You call it a wounded chicken, I call it... Victory."

Several of the Slayers nearby had been unabashedly eavesdropping on the conversation, and one of them stepped forward to address the redhead. She seemed tentative, as though afraid of speaking to Willow directly, but her curiosity overrode any niggling fear.

"If you're looking for Kennedy," the girl said, nearly taking a step backward when Willow's attention fell on her, "couldn't you just...call out with your mind or teleport to her or something?" When Willow didn't answer immediately, looking rather pained instead, the Slayer gained a smidgen of confidence. "I mean, I heard you were like this bad-ass witch," she pressed.

"Emphasis on the bad," muttered Willow under her breath. To the girl, she stated firmly, "Because that's not what magick is for."

The Slayer raised her eyebrows as though surprised, at both the words and the force behind them. "Well what good is it then?" she asked honestly, crossing her arms.

"At the moment, I'm wonderin' that myself," the witch replied, turning back to Andrew with considerably less steam than earlier. "I-I'm gonna keep lookin'. Thanks anyway."

As Willow left of the room, Andrew called, "If I see her, you want me to tell her you're looking for her?"

Willow didn't look behind, she simply sighed heavily and shook her head.

The office door opening only barely registered with Giles, he was completely absorbed in the books and papers strewn on the desk in front of him. The room was a mess, part of it being taken up by a partially finished bookcase and pile of carpentry tools, the rest appearing as though a hurricane hit it. Open books were stacked on every surface in a haphazard manner. The overall air of chaos did little to inspire confidence that Giles was making much progress in his research. The Watcher's demeanor betrayed nothing but intense concentration as he glanced from the book next to him to his notes, scribbling madly.

Willow took all this in as she entered. It seemed for a moment that she was going to quietly make her exit, but instead, then changed her mind and stepped forward, softly pushing the door closed behind her.

"Hey Giles," she greeted with a cheeriness she obviously didn't feel.

He grunted noncommittally and continued writing, then the words sunk in and he jerked his head up to stare at the woman. "Willow!" he exclaimed as though he hadn't just seen her earlier that day. "Excellent! Marvelous timing!" Giles stood up and moved to Willow, placing a hand behind her shoulder and escorted her further into the room toward the chairs in front of his desk.

"Yeah, that's great, I'm glad to see you too, but I'm really just here for—"

Giles continued as though Willow hadn't spoken, returning to his seat and focusing on the pages. "Now I've been cross-checking the information we gathered for the main Slayer list with the one of missing girls. I've yet to determine a specific pattern, but I suspect there is one. Also," he stood again, quickly making his way across the room and grabbing one of the many books lying there, seemingly at random. He was so focused that he missed Willow opening her mouth to speak and carried on without pause, "I've been thinking about what you said during the spell. About there being 'something' but 'nothing'."

"You know me, why say something with three simple words when three ... really cryptic ones work just as well?" She frowned at her own strange logic and soldiered on. "B-But I'm not here about that, do you know where—"

"I believe this is vital," Giles persisted as though Willow hadn't spoken. "I'm far from convinced that the appearance of this 'nothing' is coincidental. I-I've been researching, trying to pinpoint ways to-to ... 'break through' whatever is blocking you and—"

"Giles!" the redhead yelled, her tone finally succeeding in bringing the Watcher to a halt.

He blinked at her, as if truly noticing her for the first time. "Yes?" he questioned innocently, the book dangling open in his hands.

"Do you know where Kennedy took a group of Slayers for training?"

"What?" he queried at first, expression blank as his brain caught up with the abrupt topic change. "Oh, no. No, idea, sorry. There's nothing scheduled for this afternoon, so if it's impromptu, they could be anywhere."

Willow nodded grimly to herself. "Of course. It's just been that kind of 'could be anywhere' day."

Turning back to the book, Giles returned to the previous conversation. "Now I was thinking, if we added powdered tacrillum root for focus and clarity..."

Willow brought a hand to her forehead, rubbing gently. "Sure Giles, whatever you want. But can we talk about this tomorrow? I've... I gotta go find Kennedy."

"Tomorrow? But—"

"And besides," she interjected, "I'm kinda mojo'd out. You know, big world-seeing 'find my sisters' thing earlier, an-and I have to try and reach Buffy tonight ..."

Giles expression softened and he closed the book, placing it on the nearest pile. "Yes, of course, you're right." He rested a hand on Willow's upper arm, giving it a small squeeze and she smiled gratefully. Reaching for the papers on his desk, he shuffled through them and began to twist so he and Willow could review them together. "Instead, we can go over these disappearances. As I said earlier, I'm fairly sure there's some sort of pattern, or at least a logic we can determine. Can you put this information into that damnable contraption of yours and—"

"Giles!" Willow repeated in the same tone as earlier and with much the same effect. "Tomorrow?" she reminded.

"For the spell, of course," the Watcher agreed, and then gestured with the pages in his hand. "But this shouldn't be a problem. We just need your brain and that computer, both of which I believe you're rather fond of taxing, yes?" he grinned.

The redhead narrowed her gaze and Giles regarded her with confusion, clearly not understanding. "Normally, yeah, fun pastimes. But not today. Remember? Day off?"

His confusion lingered for another moment, then the memory returned, waving a big red flag. "Oh! Uh, yes, day off. Right." Giles frowned. "Well then why are you here?"

"Startin' to ask myself the same question," Willow muttered, walking out.

"So I been askin' myself, why am I here?" Faith eyed Wood coolly across the restaurant table. They were seated in a booth against the wall of a casual, Texas-themed steak house. The intensity of her gaze, just a few degrees shy of being hostile, would have caused most men to cower and quickly run the other way. Wood, however, sipped his beer straight from the bottle and showed not the slightest indication of discomfort.

"And what did yourself reply?" he asked nonchalantly.

The Slayer smirked and jabbed her finger at the menu in front of her. "At the moment I'm thinkin 'steak' is a pretty good answer." The amusement vanished as quickly as it appeared. "But mostly? I think you tricked me."

Wood raised an eyebrow at Faith. "I tricked you," he repeated, not making it a question.

"That's what I'm thinkin', yeah. You used that...reverse psychology crap on me."

"Oh, that." Wood took another sip of beer, mulling over the accusation. Finally, he shrugged. "Yeah, okay, that's fair."

"Damn straight it's fair," she spat, tossing the menu to the table and glaring at Wood, who continued to show no outward signs of agitation. "An' that means this don't count."

This statement managed to make an impact and he frowned at Faith, carefully putting the bottle down. "What do you mean, 'doesn't count'?" he queried, starting to sound just the slightest bit irritated.

Faith's gestured around her, encompassing everything. "This. None'a this counts. You think you won, gettin' me out here like this...but you tricked me, so it don't count."

Wood soaked this in, then allowed himself a chuckle. "Faith, this isn't a competition."

"You're trippin', course it is," she retorted.

"No," Wood replied, shaking his head slowly, "it really, really isn't."

The Slayer smirked again, a knowing and almost cruel expression darkening her features. "Look, I played this game before, Sparky, I know the rules."

Wood sat back, crossing his arms as he did so. "Then please, by all means, let's hear 'em. I'm obviously at a disadvantage here."

"Okay, it's like this." Faith settled into her side of the booth, turning sideways with her back against the wall and propping one leg up. "Guy – let's say you," she motioned at Wood who nodded, arms still crossed, "wants to 'get to know' a girl – let's say me."

"With you so far."

"Yeah, well, that's the easy part. Cuz see, the girl ain't much in the mood to be gotten to know." Faith paused, frowning at her word choice. "Knowed? Gettin' to be knowed?" She shook her head, dismissing the tangent. "Whatever, she ain't interested. An' all that does is wave a big ol' challenge to the guy. He thinks, 'Hey, I got me somethin' new I gotta conquer. I talk pretty, spend a little money, show her a good time, she'll roll right over.'" The Slayer poked her finger fiercely at Wood, leaning across the table. "But here's a newsflash for ya, Ace, I'm the freakin' mountain, and don't nobody conquer me."

Faith jabbed her finger in the air again for good measure and sat back, daring Wood to dispute her words. He didn't move for a good minute, simply regarding Faith appraisingly. She never glanced away and hardly blinked. The waiter came by, licking his pencil and ready to take their order, but, sensing the extreme levels of tension, slunk away without a word.

"Well you're certainly challenging, I'll give you that," Wood finally said, raising his beer bottle in a toast before taking a drink. "And I think you have a very interesting world view. But you're so very wrong."

The Slayer laughed, managing to make the gesture sound harsh and angry. "Oh, am I?"

"Absolutely," he confirmed. "Yeah, maybe there are some guys out there who think the same way you do, but there are just as many out there who don't. Including me. So here's how this is gonna work."

Faith quirked her eyebrow but said nothing.

"Option one: You leave right now. I won't make you stay—" he raised his hands, anticipating Faith's outburst, "—not that I could. But I mean, if you really find the idea of spending some time getting to know each other in a date setting to be so terrible, then honestly, I'd rather you go."

Casting a gaze toward the door – so near and so far – Faith seemed to be seriously considering it.

Wood caught the look and quickly continued. "Or, there's option two. You stay. We have a nice meal, some...refreshingly different conversation. No pressures, no conquering – just two people, a new understanding, and a few slabs of slightly overpriced meat."

Faith watched Wood out of the corner of her eye. He had turned back to the menu, reading it intently. No pressure whatsoever. She looked toward the door, then again to Wood, and smirked. "Well, far be it from me to pass up some overpriced meat," she shrugged, retrieving her menu from where it had been thrown. Wood hid his smile behind the menu.

Checking the prices, the Slayer widened her eyes. "Daaaamn, you weren't lyin', were you?"

"No," replied Wood, lacing the word with meaning. Faith caught his eye for a moment, then glanced away, back to the menu. "Get whatever you want," he assured her. "I'm buying."

"Oh, well, in that case I'll have the 20-ounce porterhouse," Faith beamed, her first genuine one of the evening.

He couldn't help but mirror it. "You smile like that again, you can have two."

"Now we're into bribery?" questioned Faith, but her tone was less edgy than earlier. Mostly.

"I prefer the term 'bartering'."

"Tell you what, I'll 'barter' you a teeny grin for dessert, how's that?"

Wood chuckled. "I'll take what I can get."

Giles stood in the hallway, talking with one of his Watchers, a young dark haired woman who was clutching a clipboard to her chest and listening. She frowned, and when she spoke it was with a faint and indefinable European accent. "I admit, this does put us in a bit of a bind."

"It's my fault, really," Giles admitted, polishing his glasses with irritation. "I'm terribly sorry, Mina. I should have realized and asked Faith to delay her evening."

Mina shook her head, dismissing Giles' need to apologize as she examined the clipboard closely. "There are a number of Watchers available who could be dispatched."

Neither of them saw Kennedy approaching from the far end of the hall, regarding their conversation with interest.

"I'd rather avoid that if possible," he explained. "Best I think if one of her fellow Slayers were there to greet her. Preferably one with experience, who can answer questions and immediately begin the acclimation process." Giles leaned over and scanned the list Mina was holding, running his finger down it as he searched. "Perhaps Shannon, or—"

"Chao-Ahn?" Mina indicated to the name with a smirk.

That earned her a chuckle. "Let's acclimate Ms. MacFadden to something other than complete confusion, shall we?"

Kennedy stepped toward the two Watchers, leaning over and trying to peer at the list. "Hey," she announced, attracting their attention. "Slayer hearing – makes pretty much every conversation a public one. Did I hear you say you needed an experienced Slayer for something?"

"Kennedy," Giles responded, a note of surprise in his voice. "I believe Willow's been looking for you for some time now. I think she's—"

He started to point in the opposite direction, but Kennedy broke in quickly, and Giles let his arm drop. "Thanks for the info, but I don't think I really feel like dealin' with all that right now." The Slayer took just a second to be introspective, quickly reaching her decision and deftly turning the conversation away from Willow. "So, what'cha got that needs doin'?"

For a moment it appeared as though Giles was reluctant to let the matter drop, but he instead sighed and, replacing his glasses, shifted into business mode. "We have a new Slayer arriving this evening. Her bus will be here in... Half an hour?" he queried, glancing to his assistant for confirmation.

"Half an hour," Mina nodded assuredly.

"I was planning on sending Faith, as she was the one who first spoke to the girl—"

Kennedy chuckled. "Faith got her and she's coming anyway? Brave girl."

"Indeed," agreed Giles, though more at the words and less at their implicated insult. "However Faith is currently unavailable, and we're looking for a replacement to go in her stead."

The Slayer clapped her hands together. "Hey, that's me right there."

Considering the woman, Giles tilted his head to one side. "Are you sure? I mean, something as mundane as—"

"I'm all over it, trust me," confirmed Kennedy, stepping forward.

With only another moment's hesitation, Giles nodded. "All right. And thank you, this is most helpful."

Kennedy's smirk held just a twinge of self-depreciation. "That's me – mostly helpful. But anyway. Who's the new blood?"

Giles grimaced at the expression, but said nothing as he motioned Kennedy towards Mina for the necessary information.

Greyhound #1866 pulled into the terminal with a squealing of brakes and the harsh spit of hydraulics. The door cracked open and passengers began to file out, loaded with bags and stretching, stiff from hours spent in cramped seats. Kennedy stood nearby, unobtrusive but eyeing each carefully.

Hazel was one of the last to emerge, clutching the strap of her backpack tightly and holding a large duffel bag. Nervous, the girl looked around, not at all comfortable with these strange surroundings and very uncertain of what do now that she'd finally arrived.

Kennedy strode forward confidently, an easy smile on her lips. "Hazel?" she queried, causing the young girl to jump and whip around.

"Yeah. Hi. That's me," Hazel stammered in reply, releasing the backpack strap just long enough to give a brief wave before gripping it tightly once more.

"Kennedy," the other Slayer introduced. "I'll be your escort for tonight. No peanuts or in-flight movie, though, sorry."

"You're not Faith," stated Hazel obviously.

Grinning, Kennedy shook her head. "That's definitely one interpretation of 'I'm Kennedy'."

The girl blushed, suddenly painfully aware of how that must have sounded. "Okay, yeah, stupid statement of the year award. I just meant, I thought Faith would be here."

Kennedy turned and motioned for Hazel to follow. After only a moment's hesitation, the girl did so. They made their way through the terminal and onto the street. Night was settling in, and street lamps placed at regular intervals had clicked on, weakly illuminating the approaching darkness.

"She probably would've been, but somethin' came up. But hey, it's your lucky day – I'm much better company." Kennedy smirked, glancing at the other girl. "At least in my mind. Though more rude, maybe," she amended, taking in Hazel's bags for the first time. "You want any help with those?"

Hazel looked down at the duffel, also seeming to have just noticed it. "Nah, I'm fine. It's amazing, actually," she said with wonder, scrutinizing her hand, "I hardly even notice them."

"The buffness takes some getting used to," admitted Kennedy, letting her fingers slip across a light pole as they passed. "Have you had a chip explosion yet?"

"A... chip explosion?"

"Yeah," the Slayer nodded enthusiastically, a grin taking shape. "You go to open a bag of chips, right?" Kennedy raised her hands to pantomime the action and Hazel nodded. "Only the bag won't open. So you tug on it just that liiiittle bit harder, thinkin' it's just enough, and instead you start channeling Superwoman and rip the whole damn thing in half and BAM!" She threw her hands in the air for emphasis. "Chips ahoy."

The younger girl shook her head, smiling now and visibly relaxing. "I haven't had that one. Though I did have the toothpaste version."

"My sympathies," winced Kennedy. "Haven't been there personally, but I've seen the aftermath. Mes-sy."

Hazel nodded vigorously, whole-heartedly agreeing with that assessment. "I think our bathroom still smells minty fresh."

"But at least you can rest easy knowing it's protected against plaque."

"So, you've learned to control it?" Hazel asked, unable to keep from sounding hopeful.

Considering the question, Kennedy regarded Hazel with an honest, open expression. "Kinda," she began finally. "It's always there, just waiting to come out. You lose your cool or get carried away and there it is."

"What, are we a group of female Bruce Banners?" asked Hazel incredulously.

"Only without the purple pants. Actually, strike that, some of the girls do have purple pants. But yeah, that's a decent analogy," Kennedy conceded. Completely serious, she stared intently at the younger girl, commanding her attention. "You gotta be careful. It's hard, but you learn." She grinned again, breaking the mood. "And believe me, when you find a bad guy to unleash against, it's all worth it."

Suddenly, Kennedy's feet were riveted to the pavement. She stood stock still. Without warning, her arm shot out and Hazel slammed directly into it, bouncing back.

"Ow," the girl complained, rubbing her stomach, then falling into a fearful silence at Kennedy's sharp "Shh!"

The two Slayers became like statues, intent on scanning the darkness for signs of danger. The streetlights only served to hinder the search, not providing enough light to see everything and not allowing their eyes to adjust fully to the shadows. Kennedy looked at the nearest lamp and seemed for a moment to consider breaking it, when a rustling, nearby and to the left, demanded her full attention.

Hazel held her breath and took an involuntary step backward just as Kennedy took one forward. The Senior Slayer's muscles tensed as she balled her hands into fists.

Neither moved for several seconds, then Kennedy spied a flash in the bushes. "Look out!" she cried, barreling into Hazel and sending both of them crashing to the ground just as something flew over their heads. Instantly, Kennedy was on her feet again, whirling to face whatever had attacked them.

The snarling hound-like visage of the Mogari demon was also quickly recovering, snapping its head around toward the two women as a low, menacing growl reached their ears.

Still on the ground, Hazel began to scuttle away, crab-like. "W-W-What is that thing?!" she exclaimed, her voice teetering on the verge of panic.

"I dunno," Kennedy replied calmly, not taking her eyes off the creature for even a fraction of a second. "But it's about to be a dead 'I dunno'." She flexed her fingers and hunkered down, ready for anything as an assured grin spread across her face. "The night's definitely lookin' up."