Fic: Intervention Ch II (Final Edit)

[Phoen Dusk <Dusk@xxxxxxxxx>]

Okay, I noticed the typos in Ch I and the corrections have already been made for
the archiving process. Here comes the new take on Ch II. Not a lot of changes,
just some verb tense issues I wanted to address... give an overall better
continuity to the writing.


Disclaimer: Buffy the Vampire Slayer is owned and copyrighted by Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Warner Bros., and 20th Century Fox Television. I do not
claim ownership; I just want to rent the characters and their lives for a few
hundred paragraphs. There is an original character, but someone else thought up
the basis for this guy a few thousand years ago.
Summary: Relationships involving Buffy, Faith, Willow, and Tara? but who
ends up with whom? Oh, and a prophecy involving a Slayer going to Hell.
Spoilage: Events prior to and including ?Who Are You?, though ?Superstar?
does not occur afterward. Deviation from Joss' continuity goes from there.
Warning/Rating: This fic series is rated NC-17 for descriptions of violence,
explicit language, sexual situations between consenting adults of the same
gender, and the most dangerous and explosive thing humanity has to deal with
(not telling; figure it out). If you do not care for this type of writing, go
read something a little more vanilla.
Distribution: RTF version available. Considering I don't have time to do a
website, just ask.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer - Intervention
FanFiction by Phoen Dusk

Chapter II: Admissions

Willow Rosenberg quietly slipped her key into the lock of her dorm room.
Buffy normally slept straight through her entrance, but she didn?t want to risk
disturbing the Slayer at 5:30 in the morning. Buffy had been through a good
deal of suffering in the last few weeks, with the Initiative trying to kill her,
Adam, and that creepy thing with her and Faith switching bodies. Thankfully,
Tara had been able to sense something wrong with ?Buffy,? and together they were
able to return the souls to their proper forms.
Tara. The thought of the blonde witch brought a jumble of thoughts to
Willow?s mind. They were friends, and they cast spells together, but was there
more than that? She wasn?t certain, and she also wasn?t sure if she did want
something to be there. While the whole ?kinda gay? thing had bothered her at
first after encountering her vampiric alternate, the redhead had come to realize
she cared more about who a person was than what society accepted as a norm. Oz
had been a werewolf, which was a far cry from any sort of conventional
relationship. After he left, Willow had actively avoided pursuing any intimate
venues. She had encouraged Riley and Buffy to get together, though to some
extent she regretted that. The Slayer wasn?t as available to talk or offer a
shoulder to cry on recently.
Then Willow had met Tara, and she had found a different kind of comfort in
her fellow witch. There was a new type of familiarity there and the hacker
often found herself examining the undertones of her conversations with the other
blonde woman in her life. Two days ago, before they had gone to the Bronze, the
redhead said she liked having something that was just hers, and Tara had
responded by saying she was hers. She could see, and quite often feel, the
looks directed at her by Tara. After her last relationship, Willow was more
than a little hesitant to enter into another one.
Deciding to internally shelve the discussion until after sleep had been
achieved, Willow turned the doorknob, opening the door and peeking over at
Buffy?s bed to see if she was currently residing in Morpheus? domain. The lack
of a body there assured her she wasn?t; the unmade bed and lack of an equipment
bag next to it made her wonder if something had happened in the middle of the
night. Knowing Buffy, though, Willow was certain she would be fine. ?Probably
just working off some frustration using the local vamp population.?
?Gee, no wonder I get such a warm and fuzzy feeling every time I walk in
here.?
Willow emitted a small, startled shriek as she turned to face the blonde
vampire emerging from the shadows in her corner of the room. As her heart
settled back to a normal rhythm, she glared at him icily. Spike?s eyes went a
little wide as a stake floated up from the other side of Buffy?s bed, aimed
towards his heart. ?Get. Out.?
?What the Hell is this? First the Slayer comes on to me like a bitch in
heat, now you?re getting all witchy and hostile! Can?t a guy just sneak around
without running into you people??
?Without? um, Spike, you?re in my room, which, I might add, I don?t like you
being in, considering that the last time you were here, you tried to use me for
a late supper.?
?Well, yeah.? He reached into a pocket, pulling out a cigarette. ?Mind if I
smoke?? He noted her non-verbal response, as the unlit cigarette found itself
removed from his hand and propelled into the trash can. ?I?ll take that as a
?yes.? ?
?Spike, up until a minute ago, when I opened the door expecting to see Buffy
sleeping in her bed and instead found you lurking in a corner for some unknown
reason, I was feeling rather good about a very trying day. Which brings me to
my next ?point,? which you will feel rather soon unless you either tell me what
you want or get out.?
?Right. You know, you really do tend to ramble on a bit.? Seeing her green
eyes narrow, the vampire decided not to push his luck any further. ?All right,
all right. Just thought you might like to know your other Slayer is up and
about.?
?Old news. Get out.?
?Hold on, I know where she is.?
?Where??
?What?s in it for me??
?I don?t end up with a need to explain to my roommate why I had to borrow her
dustbuster.?
Spike thought it over quickly, remembering why, in general, it was a very bad
idea to piss off a redhead, and decided he wanted to enjoy his unlife for at
least a few more moments. ?Good enough. She?s staying in Angel?s old digs.
Saw her sneaking out of there earlier.?
?Okay. Now, please, just? leave.?
?You know, you really would make a rather fetching vampire. Might even be
able to take on old Angel-boy.? Spike heard the stake fall to the floor as
Willow collapsed on her bed, ignoring his presence as he approached the door.
Figuring she was no longer paying him any heed, he crossed the threshold, and
was surprised by her response.
?Been there, seen that, didn?t care for the leather.?
William the Bloody began to turn around to comment when a blonde woman
crashed into him, sending him sprawling onto the dorm hallway floor. Cursing
the Initiative for the things he had to endure because of the chip, he regained
his feet, looking down at the girl still on the floor. ?Mind where you?re going
next time.?
?S-s-sorry.?
Hearing a voice she actually didn?t mind, Willow sat up on her bed, hanging
her feet over the side. ?Tara??
Working herself back to her feet, the blonde witch stepped into the doorway,
though not into the room. Her attention was focused solely on the redhead,
utterly forgetting about the man she had just run into. ?A-are you o-okay??
?Yeah, I?m fine. What?s wrong??
?N-nothing. I j-just had this feeling y-you were in tr-trouble.?
Willow looked at the concern on Tara?s face and could see other emotions
battling just beneath the surface. It made her feel? guilty. ?No, I?m okay.
Really.? The hacker watched as a small smile spread across the face of the
other girl, and she wondered what she had done to warrant such? She recognized
the look, but was too scared of the implications to admit it to herself.
?Oh, sure, just ignore me. No one?s afraid of?? Spike found himself cut
short, as a single word, edged with malice and conviction, drifted on a current
of arctic air from the room.
?Dustbuster.?
?Yeah, yeah. Times like these makes me wish Dru were here.? With that
sentiment, the ?neutered? vampire sulked out of the building.
Tara looked at Willow, still seated on the bed, wondering how she had been so
fortunate to find someone so concerned for her. She knew her own feelings for
the redhead, though they were much more than platonic, but she wasn?t sure if
they were reciprocated.
Willow, her ire diminishing, took stock of the fact that she had just
defended Tara without hesitation. True, Spike was no longer a physical threat,
but he could still be a verbal menace, and friends defended one another. She
and Tara were friends. Still?
?So, you?re sure y-you?re okay??
Lost in mid-thought, Willow returned her gaze to meet that of the blonde
witch, and found herself unable to deny the emotion in those eyes. Affection.
A deep, profound affection. Maybe even?
?Willow?? Tara had been unable to tear her eyes away, even as the green ones
she focused on seemed to drift to another place.
?Oh, um, yeah, Tara, I?m fine. Everything is okay. Yup, no problems. Life
is good, only, not, but not in a negative way, and I?m babbling, aren?t I??
Tara couldn?t help but smile and softly laugh at Willow?s speech. In a way,
they balanced each other in that area. When flustered or nervous, she
stuttered, while Willow seemed to have difficulty in ending her speeches.
?Yeah, but it?s okay. It?s one of the things I l-l?? The word she wanted to
say was locked in her throat, as though allowing it to pass her lips would cause
reality to be revealed as a mere illusion. ?L-like about you.?
Each woman examined the other at that moment, searching for something,
terrified and anxious of the possibilities. Willow was about to break the
tangible tension, when Tara disengaged their locked stares and turned her back
to the redhead.
?I-I sh-should g-go. I?ll t-t-talk to y-you l-later.? With the moment
shattered, Tara ran swiftly down the hall towards the dorm exit, while tears
began to well up in the corners of her eyes. She could have told her how she
felt and nearly blurted it out, but fear of rejection ? magnified by years of
taunting and ridicule at her previous school ? kept her from risking her heart
or losing the one friend she had made. Stepping outside into the first rays of
dawn, she looked ahead to watch where her feet led her, though the world had
suddenly gone blurry for a reason she refused to admit to herself.
Willow watched as the other girl left, never moving from her spot on her
bed. She had seen it, emanating truly and purely from within the blonde?s eyes
and now had to decide if it was worth the possible pain and heartache that might
accompany this development in her life. With her mind churning more intensely
than it had before she had entered the room, Willow walked to the door and shut
out the rest of the world from her private dilemma.

<*> Ruins of Sunnydale High School <*>

?Excuse me?!?
Uriel looked at Faith, her face a contorted mix of shock, anger, and
disbelief. He found it rather amusing, given her documented ability to mask her
true feelings about a given situation. Humor gave way to apprehension as he saw
Faith focus on the anger and charge him.
?Oh shit.?
Faith automatically launched into one of her favorite combinations. Leading
off with a right hand to the breadbasket, Uriel watched the punch come forward
with no intention of blocking it. Being resilient to most types of blunt-force
trauma, he chose to allow her to work out her frustrations on him. As she
connected, he found himself understanding what a baseball hit by Mark McGuire
felt like as it sailed over the outfield wall 415 feet from home plate. Wincing
from the pain, he decided to silently bear it as the younger Slayer continued.
She followed by rotating her body counter-clockwise, delivering a southpaw
backhand into the kidneys. Grasping his elbow, she brought her right hand
around to his back for a series of quick jabs to the wounded area. As she made
contact, Faith noticed that her opponent was making no move to defend himself.
His indifference simply added fuel to the fire of her rage, prompting her to
change from jabs to full-force corkscrew punches. Glancing at his face, the
dark-haired Slayer saw his impassive countenance falter with each hit,
registering the pain but refusing to acknowledge or yield to it.
?C?mon, fight back!?
Frustrated, she swept her right foot into his left knee. It reacted to the
impact, but did not buckle. Abandoning her punches, she delivered two more
kicks, increasing her ferocity each time, with his knee still refusing to give
way.
?You want me to die, do it yourself!?
Buffy began to stir, her head still somewhat cloudy from landing on an
exposed water pipe. She could hear the familiar sound of flesh impacting on
flesh and turned to see Faith hammering on the guy she spoken with earlier,
seemingly relentless in her assault.
Faith changed tactics, viciously punching him in the back of the head. He
staggered from the force of the blow, but still refused to submit or go down.
Buffy?s eyes caught his gaze as he reeled from the impact. She could clearly
understand his non-verbal request for her to stay out of it, though she failed
to comprehend any possible reason why.
?What?s wrong with you? Why won?t you fight back??
Hearing something begin to change in the attitude of his opponent, Uriel
released his left arm, pivoting to face the dark-haired girl. Taking both of
her wrists in his hands, he noticed Elizabeth pull herself into a seated
position out of the corner of his eye as he addressed Faith.
?Because you are not evil.? Uriel looked into the face of the girl before
him, and saw all the bitterness overtake the rage. She ripped free of his hold,
and began an alternating series of kicks and punches, which he began blocking
and deflecting.
?You don?t know what evil is!? Faith swung clumsily, her diminishing rage no
longer allowing her to focus her attacks. She feigned a blow to his stomach,
ducking into a leg sweep at the last moment, knocking her opponent onto his
back. She stood, bringing her right foot down in an overhead arc, attempting to
crush his lungs. He rolled out of the way, narrowly missing the kick as she
followed with a punt into his ribs. ?C?mon, kill me!?
Moving with the momentum of the kick, Uriel regained his feet as Faith came
at him again, swinging wildly, losing her convictions with each movement of her
body. ?It is not that simple, Faith.?
?Yes it is!? She connected into his jaw with her right fist, but her arms
were becoming more like gelatin with each throw. ?I?m evil!? She attempted
another roundhouse kick, though this one was batted away like a child?s
wandering hands. ?Just kill me!?
Buffy found herself unable to move from her spot. Standing was likely not a
problem, but the scene playing out before her was like an operatic tragedy. She
watched in horrified fascination as Faith?s psychological walls came crumbling
down, exposing the fragile girl beneath the hard, detached façade of the Slayer
she wore. She heard the voice of the taller Chosen falter and crack as she
screamed the last sentence, seemingly imploring anyone to end it for her.
?No.?
Uriel looked behind him to the source of the single, profound word, noticing
that Elizabeth was on her feet. He watched her take a cautious step, checking
her balance in the process, slowly making her way to where the two fighters
were. Faith had crumbled to her knees, her chin hanging in repose above her
chest, mostly unaware of the approaching blonde.
?Faith.? Buffy placed her right hand beneath the chin of her counterpart,
feeling a dampness she hadn?t expected. She slowly tilted the girl?s head up,
bringing brown eyes to meet blue, and lost herself in the depths of despair she
found there.
?B??
?Shhh. We can talk later.? Buffy traced the path of tears that had fallen
down Faith?s left cheek, stroking away the evidence of their existence with her
thumb. She looked to the tall man in the room with them, exchanging a silent
communication with their gazes. He nodded to her, and stepped out of the room
with no more than a faint whisper of sound from his footsteps. After he had
departed, she returned her view to the young woman still kneeling on the dirty,
tiled floor of the former shower room. ?We should go.?
Faith simply nodded in response, picking herself up from the floor, stepping
into the open arms of the person she had caused so much pain. She fell into the
embrace, burying her head in the right crook of the blonde?s neck. Shaking from
several sobs she was unable to restrain, she felt a hand slide up to the back of
her head, full of more tenderness and concern than she could ever remember
receiving from anyone before. The dark-haired girl felt her tension drain away
and, exhaling a heavy breath, slipped into quiet, oblivious slumber.

<*> Basement of the Harris? House <*>

When Alexander Harris dreamt, it was often about things he either had not, or
wished he hadn?t, done in his life. For three weeks after the Valentine?s Day
mess he had brought about by blackmailing Amy, he had been plagued by dreams of
what might have happened in the library and in his old room upstairs with Buffy
and Willow, respectively. Needless to say, he had made certain to do his own
laundry during that period. In the long run, he was glad he had managed to
control himself that day, but there was always this impish little voice, nagging
away in the back of his mind, mocking him for the numerous sexual conquests he
had passed up.
Recently, his dreams had been about Anya. After the last few months, he
wasn?t sure whether to be elated or depressed that she had decided to stay with
him. True, the sex had been incredible for the most part, but, then again, his
only comparison were his two sessions with Faith, and the second time she had
almost suffocated him. His feelings for the ex-demon were confusing, since they
weren?t in what you could honestly call a relationship. They were, as she had
phrased it, ?orgasm buddies.? He wanted to get to know her better, but other
than the vengeance factor, there didn?t seem to be much else there she was
willing to share.
Currently, though, he was dreaming of an enjoyable Scooby Gang vacation on a
remote, tropical island. He was lying on the beach in a pair of OD green
knee-length shorts, soaking up the hot, sweat-inducing rays of the sun. Willow,
Buffy, and Anya were in the water, splashing and diving off a low cliff further
up the beach, cooling themselves in the brisk waters surrounding their getaway.
It suddenly occurred to him that he was perspiring rather profusely and stood to
take a dip in the crystal blue, unspoiled ocean before him. Breaking into a
full-sprint, he leapt off the sand, diving for the refreshing expanse before
him. He made contact, and felt everything around him shift.
He landed with a dull thud and found himself facedown in a shallow pool of
water. Gone was the warm sunlight, replaced by a dark, heavy dampness that
seemed to press him down further into the puddle. Struggling to his feet, he
took in his surroundings, and began to immediately wish he hadn?t. He was in
the lair of the Master, standing next to the pool he had pulled Buffy out of
nearly three years ago. It was a memory of a day he both cherished and dreaded,
knowing that he had been the one to bring her back, but also that he nearly lost
a good friend. He started walking towards the exit he remembered when a woman
stepped into his path.
?By my will, the Chosen was to die, and the world was to experience a period
of darkness at the hands of the aged vampire known as the Master.? The woman
was perhaps six feet in height, dressed in an emerald green shift, with delicate
features masking the power that seemed to radiate from her. Straw-blonde hair
seemed to flow from her head, falling like rain in a smooth curtain to gently
brush the ground with its tips. Her face reminded him of chiseled marble busts
from the ancient Greek city-states, and her eyes seemed to literally sparkle
with the same intensity of a clear night sky. Her voice was silken and
seductive, reaching his ears as barely more than a whisper, seeming to slowly
eke away his will to resist it. ?Yet, my Sister and I did not account for your
intervention, and so we had to set other events in motion in order for the
Darkness to be allowed its allotted time in this place.?
Xander found himself listening, but not hearing her words, until the last
phrase, which shook him from his reverie. ?Whoa, wait, ?allotted time?? You
act like the Hellmouth has a right to spit forth a bunch of nasties to run
around and wreak havoc just because they obtained a permit or two.? He wheeled
about, suddenly hearing the same voice speak to him from behind.
?We do not create the Way of Things; we are simply here to set events in
motion so that they pass.? The woman, now dressed in a crimson shift, began
walking towards him, passing him by as she went to stand by her twin. Xander
studied both women, noting the only difference he could perceive was in the
color of their clothing. ?The Chosen?s destiny was to combat the forces of the
Darkness, while unleashing a greater one upon humanity. After the Master was
slain, another had to take his place, and so Angelus was re-awoken.?
?You?re telling me that you were the ones that made Deadboy lose his soul and
go out on a killing spree??
?The Slayer had a need to understand Destiny more clearly, even if she
refused to accept Fate. The suffering was a necessity to allow her greater
clarity.?
?People died and were turned into vampires left and right, and this was a
positive thing??
?Has all of this not given you a greater understanding of your role??
?I drive an ice cream truck. I?m co-habitating with an ex-demon. I get shut
out because out of all of us, I have the least to offer.? Xander hated saying
the last line, but felt it was true. Buffy was the physically powerful one and
was able to think on her feet. Giles was the knowledgeable one, with his
history as ?Ripper? coming into play when all else failed. Willow was not only
the smart one, but also had a wicked aptitude for spellcasting. What did he
have to offer a group like that?
?All of you have a destiny to fulfill and a fate you cannot yourselves
avoid. Are you finally ready to accept yours??
?What, as demon fodder??
?Destiny calls for you to be the guardian and protector of the Chosen, but
never receive what you truly long for from her.?
?Fate calls for you to be all you ever wished to her and more, but fail the
Slayer in her greatest hour of need.?
?We will allow you to embrace one and avoid the other should you choose, but
the decision must be made now.?
Xander thought it over very carefully, weighing his emotions on each issue.
After a very short pause, he knew which course he would take. If the cost was
that high, so be it ? he would learn to accept it in time.
?Have you made your choice??
?Yes.? Stepping forward, Alexander Harris spread his arms wide and embraced?
sunlight streaming into his eyes from the window. Grumbling with having to
suffer the indignities of yet another bright, sunny morning on the Hellmouth,
Xander looked over at the woman still snuggled against his chest. His mood
brightened slightly as he considered the irony of things. Here he was, lying in
bed with a ex-vengeance demon whose job it had been to fulfill the requests of
spurned women, often resulting in disfigurement, dismemberment or death for the
man previously involved. And she was a snuggler.
As much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn?t admit things weren?t likely to
get any weirder.

<*> Angel?s Mansion <*>

When Faith opened her eyes again, she found herself in the bed she had
started the night in. Looking out into the parlor, she saw a few errant fingers
of sunlight playing along the stone floor. She shook her head as she rolled off
the bed, wondering if everything had been a dream. Stepping out of the bedroom,
she looked around and noticed two people seated on the patio, apparently talking
about something. Though she was uncertain of who was in one of the chairs, the
one facing her direction clearly held a very familiar blonde, who was now
standing up and walking towards her.
?Sleep well??
?Um, I think so.? She scratched her head, nervous as to where things were
progressing towards, given recent events. ?All that stuff happened last night,
huh??
?Yep, right down to you passing out, though it was a lot more like really
early this morning. Uriel was the one who carried you back here.?
?Who??
?Uriel. The tall guy you were trying to beat the crap out of.?
Faith paled a little at that, wondering what kind of damage she had inflicted
this time. ?Oh, shit, is he okay??
?A little sore, but nothing to be concerned with.? Uriel walked in, standing
a few feet behind the blonde, a backpack clearly visible over his right
shoulder. Even though these two were part of his assignment, he knew they had
enough issues to work out on their own. He had spent the last four hours
conversing with Elizabeth about the trials and tribulations of Slaying, though
he avoided answering who he was and why he was there. He told her it was better
to wait for her counterpart to awaken and explain it to them at the same time.
?How are you feeling, Faith??
?Fucking miserable for the most part.?
?Believe it or not, that is a good sign.? He took a step forward, resting a
comforting hand upon a shoulder burdened by more than anyone should have to
bear, especially alone.
?What, it?s good that I regret all the stupid shit I?ve done?? Faith moved
to swat the hand away, but found her own hands suddenly encased by warm, tender
ones. Knowing the source, she kept her gaze away from the face of the blonde
owner of those hands. ?B, I can?t? this is??
?It?s okay. We?ll get through this. The Chosen Two, remember??
?Elizabeth, if you and Faith are ready, I think I should explained why I am
here.?
Faith looked at the blonde with a quizzical expression plainly visible.
?Elizabeth??
?As long as I have been around, I refuse to call anyone one of those
pretentiously ?cute? names, especially those that end in ?-fy.? ?
?And how long has that been, exactly?? Buffy took a closer look, attempting
to gauge his years. ?You don?t look much past thirty.?
?Thanks for the compliment. I might answer that question, if time permits.?
Uriel adjusted his sunglasses, settling them slightly higher on the bridge of
his nose.
Faith looked him the eyes? well, she tried to, anyway. ?Do you ever take
those shades off??
?Not since I got them.? He started to walk towards a crushed red velvet
chair and sofa ensemble, arranged in an ?L? pattern, in another corner of the
parlor. He set himself in the chair, depositing the pack beside him, leaving
the comfortable couch for the two ladies. Buffy leaned against the far arm of
the sofa, resting her legs along the rear cushions, while Faith had plopped down
at the other end of the piece of furniture, effectively trapping Buffy?s feet
with her lower back.
?Why not??
Uriel silently wondered if the sign of a successful Slayer was the ability to
continuously antagonize someone. Reflecting a moment, he realized it probably
was and decided to answer the query of the younger woman. ?Well, it beats
wearing a blindfold. You have no idea how irritating those things are after
prolonged wear.?
Buffy was becoming more curious and added to the line of questioning.
?You?re blind??
?No.?
?Then why??
Sighing, Uriel lowered his eyelids, then slowly removed the sunglasses. He
felt the light level vastly increase, and braced himself as he opened his eyes
to the stares of the two Slayers before him.
?Um?? Faith could understand why now, but the ?whathefuck? caught in her
throat couldn?t quite make it out. She began to slide down the couch towards
the other end, wigging slightly at the possible reasons. Thankfully, Buffy was
able to voice her own version of the sentiment they were currently sharing.
?Where are your pupils??
Returning his shades to their proper place, Uriel addressed the most recent
question posed to him. ?I never had any. That is another matter for
explanation later. Please, allow me to begin.? The two Slayers re-settled into
their places on the sofa, which he took to be as a sign to relate his tale.
?I work as a type of ?Intervention Specialist? for a very special person, and
yesterday I was handed my latest assignment, which involved the two of you and a
small group of others.?
?Um, who do you work for, exactly? The government??
Uriel figured it was a valid question, but answered Buffy as indirectly as
possible anyway. ?No. I work for someone a little better connected.?
?Who??
?Elizabeth, is this really important??
Faith gave a short chuckle, which Buffy felt along her quadriceps as her body
shook ever so slightly. ?That?s just too funny, B.?
Wondering how she and Faith had gone full-circle so quickly, from friends to
enemies and back again, the blonde decided to respond to the question addressed
to her rather than the comment. ?Look, I?ve recently had a federally-sanctioned
military operation try to take me out, so you might understand my concern here.
I?d like to know who is supposedly helping me and what their angle is for doing
so.?
Sighing in growing frustration, Uriel offered another cloaked reply. ?The
individual I work for wishes to remain anonymous. As for the ?angle,? they just
wish to help both of you and a few others stay safe.?
Faith was just as worried as Buffy, simultaneously remembering and attempting
to block the way Mayor Wilkins had treated her so well and used her at the same
time. ?Whaddya say, B? A name or we walk??
?Sounds like a plan to me.?
Uriel reached down into his backpack, rummaging for a few moments while the
ladies looked on with some interest. He found what he was looking for and
pulled out a bottle filled with a clear liquid. Checking the label, he removed
the stopper, taking a long pull from the bottle and lowering it after four large
swallows.
?Is that what I think it is?? It had been a while since Faith had a drink,
not counting the last eight months in a coma. The Mayor had been somewhat
strict about her staying clean and sober, though she had wished she had gotten
plastered the night B had?
?Unless you knew this was vodka bottled during the reign of Peter the Great,
then, no, it is not.? Downing another two swallows, he replaced the cap and
returned the bottle to its place within the pack. ?Okay, now I can tell you.?
?Was that necessary??
?Yes, Elizabeth, it was. If anyone asks why I told you what I am about to, I
can say that I was drinking and unable to think clearly.? Uriel felt no effects
from the alcohol, though he could taste that the vodka had fermented even
further than the last time he had sampled that particular bottle. He judged to
approximately 170 proof now, which would easily dull the pain he was still
feeling from the beating he had endured a few hours prior. ?Now, to answer your
question, I work for The Lady.?
?Um? who??
?The Lady.?
?Still confused here.?
?You and me both, B. Care to be a little more vague??
Extending the index finger on his right hand, he pointed in a direction they
would have little difficulty understanding. ?Her.?
?Huh?? Faith was still confused, as evidenced by the look on her face. She
looked to Buffy for some assistance, saw her own confusion reflected, then
watched as a growing comprehension took its place.
?Oh. Oh! Wow, talk about friends in high places.?
?Screaming that from any hillside might not be a good idea, though.?
?So, She?s really a? Her, not a Him?? The Slayer with the raven tresses had
finally grasped the notion and started to slowly fall backwards, attempting to
lie down as she absorbed the information. She sighed contentedly as she found
her head resting in the lap of someone else, but tried to return to a seated
position when it dawned on her exactly whose lap she was in. She paused as a
calming right hand placed itself on her shoulder from behind, guiding her back
down into a delicious comfort she had forgotten could exist.
?To be perfectly honest, The Lady is neither, but a number of us were more
comfortable with the feminine notion when gender started to come into play.?
?When was that?? Buffy was absent-mindedly stroking the hair of the younger
woman currently resting on her. Realizing what she was doing, the veteran Slayer
knew she should be furious at Faith for the physical and emotional pain she had
inflicted. After what she had witnessed last night though, she couldn?t find it
in her heart to stay angry. For some reason, Uriel seemed to have a calming,
soothing effect on both of them, for which some portion of her was grateful.
?Not sure. That began before I was a thought.? Uriel felt a chill slide
across his shoulders, and instinctively knew that the ?hidden evil? mentioned in
his directives was making its way towards Sunnydale. ?Listen, we can discuss
this all later. Right now, I have to explain why I am here.?
?If you work for Her, exactly what does that make you?? At one time, Faith
had dreams about things like this. Just her and Buffy, relaxing somewhere;
feeling close, feeling intimate. All her normal anxiety was temporarily
forgotten, and she gingerly moved her right hand to the knee of the shorter
Chosen. Encountering neither resistance nor rejection, she rested her arm
there, continuing to enjoy the ministrations to her hair as she awaited Uriel?s
answer.
?Stubbornness? was apparently a trait more Slayers should have had in the
past; it might have helped them live longer. Uriel accepted the fact that until
their questions had been answered, there was little to no chance of them
listening to his warning. ?I? could we not discuss me right now??
Buffy shook her head slightly from side to side, sending a very clear
signal. ?Sorry. Not about to trust someone without knowing who they are, even
if they do say they have excellent references.? She felt Faith tense beneath
her, observing a great deal of apprehension in the dark eyes she met with her
blue ones. She caressed the taller woman?s right cheek, gazing at her with a
sincere trust she wouldn?t have believed she held in Faith.
?I am a Fallen.?
Faith watched as the moment shattered, with both of them voicing the same
question. ?You?re a what??
?A Fallen. A Fallen angel. I was cast out of Heaven and sent to Earth.?
?You mean when I saw you falling out of the sky??
?No, that was Malaika pulling a practical joke, reminding me of the first
time it happened.?
?Who?s Malaika?? Faith decided to join in the conversation again, knowing
that the mood that had been building between her and Buffy was now ruined.
?She is the current Angel of Death.?
?I thought that was Zophiel.? Faith had read several of her Watcher?s
journals on angels when she had been called, never thinking that it might one
day be useful.
?He was the Angel of Death, until Michael Fell and The Lady needed someone
else to take command of the War Host.?
?The Archangel Fell? What did he do??
Buffy listened to the conversation between the other two with mild interest.
Though she had never really given the notion of Heaven much thought, she
wondered if there was a special section reserved for Slayers there.
?He fell in love with a woman and gave up his angelic status to be with her.?

?So, Malaika was made the Angel of Death??
?No. She was given the job after I Fell.?
Faith peered at Uriel, realizing what he had implied. She internally
shrugged, unsure, but no longer concerned, as to why she and Buffy were getting
along so well right now.
?So how did you Fall??
Uriel started to blush at the question, rubbing the back of his neck with his
left hand. ?I got into an argument with The Lady.?
?About what??
Faith laid back and watched the show from her vantage point in Buffy?s lap.
She was never very good at the whole interrogation thing, and left the older
Slayer to the task. She gazed up at lips she once dreamed of kissing, but had
never gotten up the courage to follow through. Part of her chalked it up to the
adrenaline rush, the ?hungry and horny? mantra she had adopted, though there was
a voice buried deep that dared her to consider another possible reason.
?I was observing humanity, and told her I thought that the species was not
worth allowing to continue.?
Faith?s eyes went wide, catching the same look of incredulousness as she
adjusted her view to include the other woman in the room. ?Um??
?She laughed at me, wondering how She could have given such a difficult job
to someone with such impatience. So, The Lady said I should learn to understand
people better, and sent me down with half my angelic strength to act as her
?Intervention Specialist.? I ended up having to lend aid to those whom I
thought worthless.?
?How long ago was that??
?Long enough for my opinion to change.?
?Meaning ?how long? in real time??
?By your calendar? About 32,000 years ago.?
Faith found herself rudely removed from the furniture, then struck in the
head and back as Buffy fell off the couch. She looked to the blonde Chosen,
currently lying face-up on the stone flooring next to her, a look of utter shock
plainly visible on her face. ?Damn, B, and you thought Angel was old.?
The statement brought Buffy out of her trance, drawing her to face its
source. Turning to her fellow Slayer, she discovered the grin plastered there a
welcome change to the normal dour expression. It was highly infectious as well,
and the two young women soon found themselves laughing like schoolgirls
discussing boys. Which, technically, they were.
Uriel was still seated in his chair, smiling down at the two children in
front of him. At his age, everyone was a child until they could no longer find
a reason to laugh. ?Shall I continue?? He watched as they composed themselves,
resumed their original positions on the crushed velvet piece of furniture, and
began to relate some of his exploits.

<*> California State Highway 101 <*> Ventura, CA <*>

A demon, looking quite similar in appearance to D?Hoffryn, was driving a
black Cadillac limousine up the coast, cruising up the road at a modest 75 miles
an hour. Those he passed could not clearly see him in the driver?s seat,
leaving them to wonder as to whom was in the back of the stretch job. The
darkened dividing glass was up, obscuring his passenger from the early morning
sun. Pressing the intercom button on the panel next to him, he asked the only
question necessary to confirm his current direction.
?Destination, Mistress??
A soft, female voice whispered from the device, delivering a single,
unmistakable word.
?Home.?

<*> <*>