[FIGHT SCENE HERE]

With a swollen jaw, already turning purple from Giles' cold-cocked punch, Xander moved through a wooded area. He winced every so often from the pain but seemed otherwise none the worse for wear and it certainly wasn't slowing him down. He stopped periodically, tilting his head for any telltale sounds and peering into the dense undergrowth obviously in search of something. That something materialized in the form of a sudden outburst that pierced the tranquility. The cry reaching his ears was that of pain and anger, accompanied by the noise of pounding – a repeated pounding, harsh and almost bone-shattering. With a determined expression, the carpenter tracked the dissonance to a small clearing. He paused at the outer boundary for a moment and took time to absorb the scene before him. His face grimaced in sympathy.

Standing before a tall tree, Faith pummeled the thick trunk. If she intended to fell the sturdy object, she was probably destined to fail, but such was not her intention. Indeed, she seemed to have no particular intention other than to vent her fury. Although the bark was beginning to flatten under the force of her fists, wood splintering at the impact, the tree was virtually immovable. Lost as she was in rage, however, the dark-haired Slayer could not have cared less. Again and again, she hammered the stout trunk, her knuckles raw and bloody.

"Those dryads ever come back and find out you were beatin' on one of their 'sisters', they're gonna open a huge can of Mother Nature on your ass," Xander told her gently, moving forward.

Faith's response was to continue her violent assault upon the tree, landing blow upon vicious blow. Xander took a step closer. "Faith," he urged, but received no answer. "I know you're hurting," he added softly.

"You don't know crap," spat the dark-haired Slayer. Her pounding increased with renewed vigor.

"I know more than you think," came the reply.

"Go to hell, Harris," snarled Faith.

"You think you're the only person who's ever lost something?" challenged the carpenter.

Faith drove the toe of her boot into one of the gnarled roots, but her only reward was a puff of dry earth. "Leave me alone."

"Why," queried Xander, keeping a tight grip on his composure. "So you can keep chopping down wood the hard way?"

He took an involuntary step backward as Faith suddenly whirled to face him. Blood oozed from her knuckles, staining the dirt by her feet, but she didn't seem to notice. She drew back her arm and, for a moment, stood poised to strike. Xander's eye widened a little and he tensed his body in readiness for the expected strike, but held his ground and made no defensive move. Unflinching, he regarded her with understanding. Slowly, the Slayer's arm dropped to her side, but the fist remained tightly clenched and although Xander might have been out of immediate danger, she obviously felt the desire to be hammering on something.

"I said, leave me alone!" she snapped.

Xander shrugged as he acknowledged the order. "Yeah, I heard you the first time."

Gritting her teeth, Faith struggled with the overwhelming inclination to silence him with one swift punch. Her eyes narrowed dangerously.

"She's dead!" Her fingernails dug with brute force into the palms of her hands. "She died saving—!"

She shook her head and dismissed completion of the thought. Her face contorted into an ugly snarl and she fought against the ever-increasing urge to beat Xander into pulp. "Don't pretend this goodie-goodie reaching out, soul searching crap is worth a damned thing, cuz you – don't – know."

She turned back to the tree and resumed her onslaught with even more energy than before.

"Don't know ... what?" accused the carpenter. "About that hollow feeling in your chest? The ice in your veins? How you wanna scream at the world, make everything and everyone hurt as much as you do? Yeah, I think I might know a little something about that." He stared at her hunched shoulders, watched her flying fists, and waited for a response. None was forthcoming.

He sighed and stepped closer once more. "Fine, let's try it this way: You gonna stand out here playing Paul Bunyan, or do you want some revenge?"

The Slayer's incessant pummeling slowed and then finally came to a halt, although she maintained an offensive stance. Keeping her back to Xander, she tilted her head to one side a little, as though prepared to listen to what he had to say. The carpenter took that a sign of encouragement and hurriedly pressed his slim advantage, apparently afraid it might slip away at any moment.

"We got us our very own Super Slayer," he told her. "Giles and Buffy and the others are trying to get information out of her now. Soon as we've got the info we need and Will and Tara can get us there, we're going. They brought the fight to us, it's only fair we return the favor." He paused meaningfully. "So. You in?"

Dropping her arms, Faith turned to face Xander, blowing savagely upon her bloodied knuckles.

[INTERROGATION, ROUND 1]

Appearing weary, Xander nodded in confirmation. "I found her. I thought maybe she'd be at the Memorial, but I guess she isn't feeling too ... memorialous right now. Can I just say right now that if I can make it out of today without almost getting hit again, it'll be looking up?"

"How is she?" asked a concerned Buffy.

The carpenter shrugged. "About how you'd expect. But I told her the plan. She's in." As Buffy nodded, Xander jerked his chin toward the chair in the middle of the room and its restrained occupant. "Getting anywhere?"