Fic: Delicate Cruelty (4/?)

[Erin <erin@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

TITLE: Delicate Cruelty
AUTHOR: Erin (erin@xxxxxxxxxxx)
SPOILERS: Through Season 4 BtVS and Angel
RATING: R, because of some language, violence and adult situations.
It is a Buffy/Faith fic, so if that bothers you, or it's illegal to
even think of two Slayers getting it on, then just don't read it. Or
move.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters (except mine)
belong to Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. I'm just borrowing them
for a bit. I'll put them back when I'm done, no worse for wear (but
maybe a little happier).
ARCHIVE: Anyone who wants to archive my stories is welcome to, just
let me know so I can add you to my website links. Thanks.
FEEDBACK: Constructive comments are encouraged.
WARNING: Contains some character death, character undeath, and
torture. Reader discretion is advised.
SUMMARY: (Buffy/Faith) A sadistic vampire's plan for domination
forces Buffy and Faith to join forces.

Chapter 4

Willow placed the phone receiver back on the hook and chewed her
bottom lip thoughtfully. It wasn't like Giles to be so urgent, she
thought, not when there was no great evil out there for them to be
wary of. Since Adam had been taken care of, they were definitely in
between great evils at the moment. Maybe Giles was getting lonely
again?

She was forced to admit that although the Scooby gang was together
again, the core problems that had led to the big split a couple of
weeks ago had not been dealt with. Xander was still holed up in his
basement, Giles was still lonely and unemployed, Buffy was still
spending every waking -- and non-waking -- moment with Riley, and
Willow...

The hacker felt a small tug at the sleeve of her robe, and she looked
down toward the source. Tara was giving her a sweet smile from where
she lay, covers pulled up to the blonde girl's shoulders, her fingers
abandoning the terrycloth to gently brush the exposed skin of Willow's
arm.

"I don't know why you jumped up to put on that robe when you found out
it was Giles on the phone," Tara said quietly, her eyes shining as she
teased her girlfriend.

Willow captured Tara's hand in her own and gave the knuckles a brief
kiss. "That's just it, it was _Giles_. He's like a father, o-or one
of those strict, disapproving British uncles that you see on PBS
shows. I can't talk to him naked. Not when I'm naked, I mean,
although I really wouldn't want to talk to him when he was naked
either, geez, you don't think he was naked, do you?" The image was
strangely attractive and disturbing at the same time.

Tara giggled at Willow's discomfiture. "Probably not." Her
expression turned serious. "Is everything ok?"

The hacker nodded. "I think so. I think Giles might be feeling a
little out of place again, though. Think we could go over there
tomorrow morning and talk to him for awhile?" Maybe I could pry Buffy
away long enough to go with us, Willow thought to herself.

"Of course," Tara agreed immediately. "First thing tomorrow morning."
The blonde reached out and grasped the front of Willow's robe, pulling
the hacker down towards her with a smile.

"Tomorrow morning is soon enough," Willow concurred, meeting Tara's
lips with her own in a gentle kiss.

* * *

Trinity watched the Englishman closely, careful to keep her hopeful,
vulnerable expression in place. Jesu, but she hated acting this way!
Since her childhood she had despised weakness; it had been obvious
even then that the strong were the ones who drove this world, and
those who lacked strength were little better than slaves, however much
they might pretend otherwise. Regardless of her personal feelings,
however, she had to admit that playing the part of the weak, helpless
female often enabled her to easily manipulate otherwise cautious men.

She also knew that this Englishman -- a Mr. Rupert Giles, if the
information the Father had was correct -- would probably prove more
cautious than most.

Sure enough, his survival instincts seemed to be well-honed. "I have
a cordless telephone," he replied in his smooth accent, "I'll let you
borrow that." He gave her a perfunctory smile, undoubtedly meant to
reassure, and turned to fetch the phone.

Fine, she thought with a glare at his retreating back, we do this the
hard way. And by that, I mean hard on you.

Digging the fingernails of her left hand into her palm, she felt the
skin break and red blood welled up between her fingers. She squeezed
her hand shut, and felt a few drops fall to the ground. With her
right hand, she signaled to the vampire that she knew was hiding in
the bushes, several feet away.

The Englishman returned with the telephone. "Here you go, Miss...?"
He held out the phone to her, and she watched as his eyes followed her
injured hand. "Oh! Ah, you've hurt yourself," he said, his calm
British exterior slightly ruffled now.

She pushed him even farther. "Oh yes, I was trying to change the tire
by myself, and my hand slipped. I cut myself on the tire iron.
That'll teach me." She chuckled weakly, all the while allowing her
eyes to dart around the small courtyard nervously. "Um, that's really
why I'm here right now, you see, I think someone's following me," she
finished, her voice dropping to a stage whisper.

The vampire took that as his cue, and began rustling the bushes and
emitting low growls. It was all Trinity could do not to roll her eyes
in exasperation.

Giles's raised his eyebrows in alarm. "Yes, there are very dangerous
things out here at night," he said, grabbing ahold of a crucifix and
crossbow that were conveniently placed next to the door. Stepping
outside, he held the crucifix up in front of Trinity's face.

The vampire swallowed hard and crossed herself, trying to maintain the
illusion of casualness. Crosses, though they made her uncomfortable,
did not incapacitate her as they did other vampires; one of the
advantages of having a priest as a sire and mentor, she assumed.
Father Sedona enjoyed collecting ornate crosses and crucifixes, and he
was never without his Rosary.

It appeared to work; the Englishman nodded to himself, and turned
toward the bushes. Behind him, Trinity gestured at the hiding
vampire.

The fiend jumped out of the bushes, hands held before him as if they
were claws. He was a minor lackey, very young and inexperienced, but
competent enough to follow the simple instructions that Trinity had
given him. "Ha!" he exclaimed, very melodramatically. "I have you
now!"

Trinity rolled her eyes for real this time, but collected herself
quickly. Giving a small shriek, she grabbed on to Giles's right arm,
holding on for dear life. "Oh no! What is that thing? It's going to
kill me!"

The mortal tried his best to shrug her off, while still holding the
vampire at bay with his crucifix. "Please, miss! I need you to stay
calm!"

The lesser vampire laughed cruelly, causing Trinity to shriek even
louder and grab on even tighter. Finally, the Englishman pushed her
behind him, saying, "Get in the house! I'll take care of this!"

Gladly, Trinity thought with a small smile, and turned and entered the
mortal's home. A moment later she heard the thrumming of a crossbow
string, and she looked to see her lackey turning to dust, a wooden
bolt sticking out of his chest.

Pity. Well, plenty more where that came from, she thought with a
mental shrug.

Giles came back into the house, and Trinity beamed at him, playing the
part of the rescued princess. "Oh, thank you sir! I don't know how I
can repay you!" She mentally chastised herself for such stilted
speech, undoubtedly due to the Father's great love of old Errol Flynn
movies.

"I don't think that will be necessary, miss," the man said to her, in
all likelihood made uncomfortable by her display. He set down his
crossbow and crucifix. "Now, let's see to your injured hand, shall
we?"

Trinity clenched her hand, feeling that the shallow cut she made
earlier had already healed. "Yes, thank you sir, and something for
the pain if you have it?" she lied smoothly.

He nodded and jogged upstairs, probably searching for a first aid kit.

As soon as he was out of sight, Trinity looked quickly around the
living room, spotting the large bookshelves against the far wall. She
rushed over and started scanning the titles, looking for one book in
particular.

"_A Devil's Bestiary_; _Demons, Demons, Demons_; _Blood Rituals of
Pazuzu_; and, oh, a first edition copy of _Sense and Sensibility_,"
Trinity muttered to herself softly, shaking her head. "The Father was
right, these mortals are hardly deserving of the gift of life."

Giles's voice floated down from the loft. "Will aspirin be sufficient
for the pain, or do you need something stronger?"

"Aspirin will be fine, thank you, Mr. Giles," Trinity replied
distractedly. She continued scanning the spines of the books, until
she came across one that matched the title that Father Sedona had
given her. Reaching out, the vampire was about to pick up the book
when she heard a small 'click' behind her, in the direction of the
front door.

She immediately identified it as the sound of a crossbow being loaded.

Straightening slowly, Trinity carefully turned to face the Englishman,
whose crossbow was held in a steady hand, pointed straight at her
heart.

She gave him a wry smile. "Is there something wrong?"

Giles's eyes narrowed as he regarded her closely. "Who are you, and
how did you know my name?"

"Oh, you are quite well-known from whence I come," Trinity replied
smoothly. She smiled sweetly, just the picture of beatific innocence
-- until her canine teeth began to sharpen, her features shifting into
those of her true nature.

The crossbow string thrummed as Giles shot a bolt straight for her
heart; a missile which she easily snatched from the air, mere inches
from her chest. Holding it up, she examined the bolt thoughtfully.
"We could have done this the easy way, but no. Now we do things the
hard way. My way."

* * *

As soon as that fiend in girl's clothing grabbed the crossbow bolt out
of mid-air, Giles knew he was in trouble. "Why are you here?" he
asked warily, edging closer to the door. "Let me guess, you're a
vampire with an interest in rare and unusual books, a-and all the used
bookstores were closed?"

The vampire laughed easily. "Do you think me some villain in a penny
dreadful that I would so easily reveal our plans?" Her voice was low,
smooth, and terribly hypnotic. "No, you will discover them soon
enough...but not until it's too late."

"At least tell me your name before you kill me," Giles said, with the
barest of glances toward the door. Almost there...

"I'm not going to kill you," the girl responded. "But..." Faster
than Giles could react, the vampire placed a solid foot on his coffee
table and launched herself over the couch, right for him. She shoved
him against the door with bone-jarring force, capturing his wrists in
one strong hand. Leaning forward, she whispered into his ear,
"Neither can I allow you to leave."

Giles's mind raced with the possibilities that were laden in such a
statement. "What are you going to do?" he asked, calling upon all his
famed British detachment and cool-headedness to keep his voice steady.

A grudging respect shone in the girl's -- the demon's -- eyes when she
regarded him. Tracing his jawline with one delicate finger, 
the vampire forcibly turned his head to the side, baring his neck.

"What comes naturally," she answered.

* * *

Willow knocked on the door a second time, and shot her girlfriend a
concerned look. They were standing outside Giles's home; the day was
bright and sunny, and it appeared that Sunnydale was once more in the
grip of one of its famed heat waves, it being already eighty degrees
at only nine o'clock in the morning.

It was entirely unlike Giles not to be up at this hour, Willow thought
with concern. Even when he was hung-over that one time, he was still
up by eight, latest. She knocked again, hoping to hear a
British-accented reproach from inside.

Nothing.

"M-maybe we should go in," Tara said softly, returning Willow's
worried look. Willow could tell that her girlfriend was bothered by
this as well; she almost never stuttered unless she was embarrassed,
or under stress.

The hacker nodded at Tara, and prepared her mind to cast an unlocking
spell on the door. Thinking the better of it, she reached forward and
tried the knob first, expecting it to be locked. When the knob turned
easily in her hand, she shot another alarmed look at the blonde.

Pushing the door open slowly, Willow peeked inside, her eyes adjusting
to the dimness of the living room. All the curtains were drawn, as if
it were still night out; Willow stepped into the room, her foot
kicking something which clattered across the floor. She jumped,
taking a quick step backward and almost running into Tara in the
process.

"W-what? What is it?" Tara asked, with a timid look over the hacker's
shoulder. "What's that?"

"It's a crossbow," Willow said softly, glancing around the room and
then stooping to pick up the object in question. "This isn't like
Giles at all, to leave weapons lying around like this."

"You mean it doesn't belong to Giles?"

The hacker gave her girlfriend a wry smile. "No, I mean it isn't like
him not to put something away." The worried feeling came back, and
she held the crossbow in front of her, like a talisman. "C'mon, we've
got to find him."

That proved not to be difficult at all, as a second later Tara grabbed
Willow's arm and pointed to the couch. "Willow, look!"

Willow followed the blonde's gaze, and what she saw chilled her.
Giles was laying on the couch, his body perfectly still, his face so
pale that he almost appeared to glow in the dim light. His arms were
arranged so they were crossed over his chest, in a classic death
repose.

"Oh no, Giles," Willow whispered, and rushed to the man's side. She
reached out and touched his neck gingerly, feeling for a pulse. She
felt one, it was faint, but it was there, and she noticed with relief
that his skin was warm to the touch. "He's alive," she breathed,
looking up at her girlfriend, her body awash with relief. "We need
some smelling salts, he's got some in a first aid kit upstairs."

Tara nodded and rushed upstairs, returning a minute later with the
first aid kit. Willow took the smelling salts from her, and waved
them briefly underneath Giles's nose.

The ex-Watcher inhaled sharply and immediately started coughing, tears
springing to his eyes. "What...Willow..." He sat up, or tried to
anyway, before dizziness appeared to overtake him and he laid back
down again.

"Stay down," Willow admonished. She noticed the bite mark on the
right side of his neck, red and ugly. "What the...were you bitten,
Giles?"

The Watcher instinctively reached for his neck, only to have his hand
held back by a disapproving Willow. She immediately began slathering
the wounds in antibacterial ointment; once she was done, she placed a
bandage securely on the side of his neck.

"Well, yes," he said weakly, "it appears I was."

* * *

Father Sedona sat in the darkened hotel room, admiring the book that
Trinity had placed on the table in front of him. He had been sitting
there for hours, running his fingertips over the delicate leatherwork
and thick parchment, losing himself in the musty scent of old
knowledge. And reading. Oh yes, he was reading.

"You are pleased, then?" Trinity asked from her spot on the couch
where she sat, regarding him.

The priest smiled. "I am very pleased." Trinity seemed to swell
under his praise, and he made sure to give it often; she was a
valuable thrall, and in his way he loved her as the pinnacle of his
creations. His Magnum Opus. "Did you run into any resistance?"

"Minor," she waved her hand disdainfully. "A pity, though, that you
did not want our Mr. Giles killed. It would have made the mission
faster and easier."

Father Sedona chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Time enough for that. We
don't want a head-strong Slayer hunting us with vengeance on her mind.
At least, not yet." The priest looked down again at his book. "I
know we've made great strides in gathering followers over the past few
days. Tell me, Trinity, how many have you chosen to be among my
Disciples?"

Trinity paused and thought for a moment. "Eleven," she said slowly.
"Including me. Why?"

The Father leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers.
"Because I think it's about time for us to find our Judas."

END Chapter 4
-- 
"Eliza. Does she not in fact rock the very world? Yes."
-- Joss Whedon, Exec. Producer, BtVS
*email: erin@xxxxxxxxxxx
*web: http://www.heckman.net/erin