His crimson eyes glowing in a face that was said to be quite handsome (even by the guys who had gotten a chance to see him from either far away or up close), Yami had to admit, being someone who worked at the world's oldest profession was kind of neat. And he didn't even have to get his hands dirty either.

For one thing, he began by charmingly and smoothly convincing all the male prostitutes to stay home while he took over for them. Then there were the workers who were drug addicts, while others were victims of abuse. Yami quickly set up rules for them; the addicts were required to attend rehab, while with the abuse victims, there was therapy.

"It's healthy for you," he replied when asked by the workers why he set those up for them. "You'll thank me for this someday."

And deep down, they knew that to be quite true.

Buffy and the others were enthralled by the tales he told them night after night when she got home from patrol.

Some had objected, of course. Yami had kept a mental count of the number of pimps who'd told him that he worked for them now and that they controlled his life, while simultaneously offering him a potent mixture of narcotics, brutality and passion. He'd turned their offers — and them — down before doing to them exactly what he'd done to the tricks who would deliberately seek out whores who were not of legal age, as well as the tricks who thought it was funny to either rob or beat up the working girls (although sometimes it was a little bit of both). Namely, Yami had lured them to a secluded spot and then worked his charms on them before taking their wallets, pulling out all the cash he could find from said wallets, and then sending their souls to the Shadow Realm.

Finally, he would leave them and their wallets — now empty — behind where they were able to be found later. Yami felt that the best part was hearing the screams from the friends of the tricks while he watched, hidden in the safety of the shadows.

Yami opened his eyes just as he sensed a knife being thrust up against his throat. A slim man, shorter than Yami, was standing there.

"Shut your trap, you male whore!" the man holding the knife said, even though Yami simply looked him in the eye with that confident smirk on his face. "Listen, kid, I've been watching you and your kind for a while now. You're nothing but dirty, and I believe it's my job to rid the world of all males who are evil and impure. I am what they call the reincarnation of Jack the Ripper, and you're the worst of them all. Do you know what a man like me does to young boys such as yourself, kid?"

When his assaulter pulled the knife away, Yami simply shook his head and then said calmly, "I've heard of Jack the Ripper there, kid."

The way he said "kid" there almost made Yami's assaulter take a few steps backwards. Noticing this, Yami went on, "And I myself happen to be the reincarnation of a great Egyptian Pharaoh."

His would-be killer sucked in his breath, half in horror and half in surprise. An Egyptian Pharaoh?

Andrew Wells and Spike situated themselves behind a tree, watching the scene that was playing out in front of them. They were quiet, wondering what Yami would do or say next.

A few seconds later they almost jumped when Yami's would-be killer suddenly snapped, "You male whore! If you wanted to get money, all you had to do was get a decent education first and then get a job — not sell your body for money!"

Spike and Andrew turned and looked at each other, shaking their heads in surprise and bewilderment.

Yami, for his part, locked eyes with the man and calmly replied, "My, my, my young friend. Such language, especially from you, is very unbecoming." His grin then faded. "So shut your mouth!"

Skin met skin; the slap Yami had given his would-be killer was kind of quiet, but to Spike, because of his vampire hearing, it was able to be heard. He felt Andrew flinch a little, and turned to see a shocked expression on the boy's face.

The man then landed on the ground on his back. As for his knife, which he had previously pressed up against Yami's throat, it was now in Yami's free hand. Now it was Yami's would-be attacker who was in shock.

"My knife," he growled all of a sudden. "Give me my knife."

Smirking still, Yami shook his head as though in wonderment before replying with, "I don't think so, my friend. After all, a man such as yourself doesn't deserve to live to see another day — at all."

Before the man could think of a witty reply, or ask Yami what he meant, Yami reached down and picked him up so that he was being held by one shoulder.

Spike could hardly believe what he was seeing. Andrew couldn't believe what his eyes were now showing him either. Only someone who had Shadow Magic and was very strong could handle a guy like the one Yami was currently holding. And at the moment, they both had the same thought: Wow, he's strong, especially for a guy like him...

"Sorry, kid," Yami shrugged, "but it looks like the only place you're going to is a pit of burning fire." He then brought the man close so that his face was inches from Yami's. "And I'll tell you something — you're going to have to get used to being alone sooner or later, because I'm not joining you there."

With that, Yami tossed the serial killer incarnate aside and then held out his palm as the Millennium Symbol appeared on his forehead. "Mind Crush!" he hissed, and the man's screams filled the air before they faded away into the night air. Soon, all that remained was the man's wallet, which was fat to the brim with money — which the man had lost to Yami.
Yami shook his head and then let his hand fall back to his side before putting into his pocket the man's knife – which had, by a turn of fate, become his. Spotting the wallet lying there in the grass, he then walked over and picked it up.

Opening it, Yami blinked at all the fives, tens, twenties and a few fifties that were right there, and then smiled a secret smile to himself. "Perfect," he remarked. "This will definitely come in handy for Buffy, Dawn and the gang."

Still smiling at the mental image of Buffy, Dawn and the others eying the money with a look of shock on their faces, he then turned on his heel and headed for 1630 Rovello Drive, where the Summers residence was located, a spring in his step.

Spike and Andrew simply looked at each other for a few moments before Andrew whispered, "I wonder what that's all about."

"You know something, Andrew? Me, too," Spike remarked while nodding in agreement for a bit.

**************************************************

The next day, Buffy, Dawn, Xander, Anya, Willow and Tara were looking at the pile of money on the table in front of them. With them were Spike, Andrew and Yami.

Finally, Buffy turned her emerald gaze from the money and up to Yami, and then spoke up. "Yami, I don't even know where to begin."

A silence filled the room before anybody spoke. Then Xander remarked, "Uh... wow. Yami, I had no idea that your would-be attacker was carrying around all this cash, or that he would leave it behind."

"He did deserve it, though," Yami replied. His baritone voice took on a tone that made them listen to what he was saying. "And believe me, I don't like it when someone — namely, a person who isn't a part of you guys — insults me and refers to me as a ‛male whore'. It's really rude, not to mention ungentlemanly."

Both Spike and Andrew shot each other a knowing look when the other Scoobies weren't watching. They somehow knew that Yami had a point there. After all, they had seen how Yami reacted to that guy referring to him as such the previous night.

"Uh, Yami," Willow suddenly queried, "weren't you scared when that knife was pressed up against your throat?"

"No, Willow," Yami replied, shaking his head. "Actually, I was quite confident."

When the others took turns plying him with questions, Yami volleyed the answers right back.

In Yami's eyes, taking down pimps, wife beaters and other kinds of criminals who deserved to be in the Shadow Realm, as well as draining them of their hard-earned money, was quite something that even a vampire hero would've taken a liking to.

And he liked it — a lot...