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Fic: Intervention Ch V



 
   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 webiste, just ask first.

Buffy the Vampire Slayer ? Intervention
FanFiction by Phoen Dusk

Chapter V: Facets

   ?Riley!  C?mon, man, you were supposed to be helping with the refreshments.?
   ?One of the many privileges of rank, Forrest: delegating.?
   Riley barely caught a response muttered by his second-in-command under his breath, though a few choice words were easily understood.
   ?What was that??
   Turning to face his superior, Forrest caught a glance from Graham out of the corner of his eye.  The contact was brief, but the message was clear: Don?t.  Forrest found himself ignoring it.  ?I said, sir, that you weren?t like this before that blonde girl came along.?
   ?That blonde ?girl? is a woman and her name is Buffy.  Correct me if I?m wrong, but did you or did you not encourage pursuit of the aforementioned woman??
   ?Understood, sir.  Yes I did, sir.?  Forrest stood at attention, raising his right hand in salute.  ?Am I dismissed, sir??
   Riley noted the disrespectful tone in his friend?s voice, but knew it would be pointless to argue it further.  ?Dismissed.?  He watched as Forrest pivoted on his heels and proceeded into the kitchen, his mind obviously in full military mode.  Riley inwardly sighed, wondering why a relationship once encouraged was now the source of so much tension.  He walked into the main hall, hoping to distract himself with either the final party preparations or the prospect of seeing Buffy later.
   He found the latter to be much more effective.

   <*> Angel?s Mansion <*>

   ?So, Giles, what was it you had to tell Buffy??
   ?What??  Clearing his head of the tangle of thoughts brought about by Tara and Uriel?s departure, he was summoned back to the group by the question poised by Willow.  ?Ah, yes, of course.?  Turning to face his former charge, he caught sight of both Slayers? hands linked together in a gesture of support and chose to ignore it.  The issue might need to be addressed later, but for now Faith?s help would more than likely be necessary.  ?Last night I was listening to the Initiative operate in the field in case they stumbled across Adam.?
   ?Did they??
   ?No, Buffy, though one of their teams was accosted by a trio of vampires.?
   ?So B missed a few vamps on patrol.  No big deal, Giles.  We?ll get ?em tonight.?
   ?The vampires were assisted by a pair of large, horned demons.?
   ?I thought demons hated vampires.?
   ?That is what we?ve come to understand, Willow.  It seems as though something, or rather someone, is now bringing them together.?
   ?Adam.?
   ?Precisely, Buffy.  I located an entry in one of the Watcher Journals from five centuries ago that seems comparable to our situation.  At that time, a powerful vampire and his Childe were accomplishing the same task.  I must say though, they were not nearly as successful as Adam appears to be.?
   ?So, who exactly is this ?Adam? guy??
   ?Faith, imagine every really nasty demon you?ve ever run up against dissected, harvested, then stitched together into a walking, seven-foot death-machine that doesn?t even budge when you hit him and has plans to? do we know what he?s planning yet, Giles??
   ?I?m afraid not, Buffy, though I doubt anything pleasant for us.?
   ?So, standard game plan??
   ?Seeing as we have yet to discern any substantial information about Adam thusfar, I would agree.?
   ?So, Buffy?s gonna do more extensive patrols, while you?re in your apartment checking through your books. Maybe you can get Xander and Anya to help.  I?ll check the Internet and look for any helpful spells with Tara.  My guess is Faith?ll kill somebody before working for Adam.?

   <*> Adam?s Cavern <*>

   ?It would seem as though my plans in dealing with the Slayer will need to be altered.?  The hybrid construct consulted several screens amid the workstation in his lair, while mentally replaying an oral report given by a vampire who had happened by Sunnydale?s former high school last night.  He said the Slayer and an unknown man accompanying her carried a dark-haired female out of the building.  From her description and records from the former Mayor?s office, he was easily able to determine her identity.  Faith.  The Rogue Slayer.
   ?Bring me the vampire known as Spike.  Tell him I wish to make him an offer.?  Four vampires made their way towards a sewer access shaft in one of the cave branches, when they heard the voice of their current master echo after them.  ?Wait.  He will not consider you worth listening to, and will destroy you should you attack.  I shall make the offer in person.?

   <*> 115 Degrees 30 Minutes W Longitude <*> 35 Degrees N Latitude <*>

   ?Um, I thought we were going back to the others??  Uriel gazed about at unfamiliar desert terrain, having expected to return to the abandoned manor house after leaving Mt. Ziria.  He sniffed the air from the arid plateau he currently found himself upon, catching a cool, fresh scent carried along on the wind.
   ?There?s something else I want to discuss with you first.?
   ?What??
   ?It has to do with Willow.?
   ?Something else??
   ?Um, kinda.  I get nervous when I?m with her.?
   ?Any idea as to why??
   ?Well, she did manage to join me in a dreamwalk a few hours ago.  I was out here venting some of my frustrations about not being able to be with her and somehow? she found me.?
   ?Venting??
   ?I called a thunderstorm.?
   Uriel shook his head, remembering an incident years ago involving a very young Thyra being thrown from the back of a pony.  She began to cry, her tears soon joined by a torrential downpour that seemed to purify the area, washing away the dust from the roads and the sweat from every form of man and beast in sight.  ?Well, that explains the odor.?
   ?Huh??
   ?Nothing.?  He allowed a smile to greet her slightly confused features, then watched as she blinked twice and resumed a rather serious _expression_.  He also noticed a slight bit of color rising in her face, as he wondered what else there might be to this story.  ?Now, what was this about a dreamwalk??
   ?She joined me.?
   ?Meaning??  He grinned as her blush deepened, then continued spreading outward.
   ?It? it isn?t important.?
   ?Uh-huh.  Is that why your cheeks are trying to match her hair color??
   ?I?m not getting out of this, am I??
   ?No, and not just because I think this is going to get? interesting.?  Uriel watched as Tara attempted to direct a stern glare his way, then broadened his smile when he saw she was incapable of maintaining it.  ?Do you have any idea indication to her potential yet??
   ?No, though I can sense she?s barely halfway there.?
   ?Talesin.?
   ?Um? wow.  Really??
   ?Yeah.?  Reaching inside his duster, he pulled out a pack of clove cigarettes and a black Zippo.  Placing one to his lips and lighting it, he enjoyed a short drag before returning to the conversation.  ?Still not sure how I got stuck with this case.  Things of this magnitude should be handled by true Angels, not wingless Fallen.?
   The blonde witch reflected thoughtfully for a moment, recollecting a tale from her youth.  ?Didn?t you once tell me that Angels can only act indirectly with humanity?  Things like influencing others to do what needs to be done??
   ?You actually remember that story??
   ?Sure.?  Her face lit up slightly before continuing, realization dawning in regards to his doubts.  ?Maybe that?s why you have to do this? because you can take an active roll in her life.?
   ?If it were just Willow, I might have an easier time with that notion.  The problem is, I am supposed to help her, Faith, Elizabeth? even Rupert and some guy named Alexander.?
   ?Alex? you mean Xander??
   ?Possibly.  Do you know him??
   ?No, not really.  I mean, Willow talks about him, but I haven?t met him yet.  He sounds like a pretty nice guy though, once you get past the quirky exterior.?
   ?Okay, so neither of us has any real idea in that department, then.?  He started to replace the cigarettes, then extended the pack towards his companion.  ?Care for one??
   ?No thanks.  I quit smoking a few decades ago when they started putting in all the additives.?
   Nodding, he returned the supplies to his coat and proceeded to take a healthy drag from the one between his lips.  ?Yeah, nothing quite like the taste of cyanide as it billows into your lungs.  Nice to know these lack that particular problem.?
   ?That was one reason I stopped, but I also wanted to attend school at some point.  Elementary school records aren?t hard to forge, but trying to get into college is almost impossible without a full transcript and a recommendation from a guidance counselor in this Age.  So, I regressed my appearance to adolescence and enrolled in a high school in northern California half a decade ago.?
   ?So, what was it like??
   Tara lowered her head, shaking it from side to side slightly.  ?A miserable experience.  For an enlightened era, people seem to be even more judgmental.?
   ?Welcome to what your mother feared.?
   ?She knew??
   Taking a long drag and exhaling it slowly, the fallen angel answered her inquiry.  ?Yet another of the other reasons she left your family.  Had she maintained the perceptions they held and instilled them in you, we would not be able to have this conversation.?  He regarded her for a moment, giving voice to a thought that had been forming the last few minutes.  ?You are much better at this than I remember.?
   Puzzlement visible, she replied.  ?Better at what??
   ?Changing topics.?
   Casting a look of mock innocence towards him, she countered his accusation.  ?You were the one that brought up Willow?s potential? and Xander.?
   ?True, but you did say the reason we came here was because of the dreamwalk.?
   Tara drew in a deep, relaxing breath, holding it a moment before exhaling and releasing her anxious tension.  She then spoke three words, attempting to convey in them the delight and contentment she felt the past few hours each time she mentally replayed the event they described.
   ?We touched souls.?
   Uriel never felt the cigarette fall from his fingers, nor did the desert seem to respond to its landing.  His voice was faintly louder than a whisper as he voiced his next question.  ?How much did she learn??
   ?The bond was only beginning to move past the emotional level when she was pulled away, but I think she knows it was me.?
   ?I fail to see a problem, then.  It seems like she feels the same way for you that you feel for her, so why??  He stopped his train of thought as a worried frown slipped onto her face, and another memory flashed behind his eyes.  ?Are you afraid she might end up like Allene??
   Tara?s eyes grew wide with shock at the mention of that name, then met his soft, concerned gaze.  ?How? how did you know about Allene??
   ?I met up with one of our mutual friends in Massachusetts shortly after you left.?
   Her head fell back to her chest, as she remembered her previous lover.  ?Oh.  Did he tell you about the trial??
   ?He glossed over most of the details.  He did mention you left before it started.?
   ?I? I couldn?t watch, knowing I was the cause of her suffering.  She was so young? she didn?t deserve that.?
   He saw a tear slide down her left cheek from behind her hair and stepped forward to embrace her.  He stroked her hair gently, attempting to calm her fears.  ?No one deserved to have that happen to them.  You are one of the most caring people I have ever met, Thyra.?  He felt her head tilt up against his chest, as if to protest something he said, and quickly amended his last statement.  ?Sorry.  Tara.  Hey, I have known you a lot longer than they have.?
   ?Thanks for reminding me how old I am.?
   ?Anytime.?  He chuckled at her attitude and briefly reminisced about the days when he compared his age to that of the lovers he shared a bed ? or any other solid, available surface ? with.  ?Sad to think I have to live vicariously through someone as young as you.?
   She smiled at him, responding with a short, gentle laugh.  ?Young??
   ?Your mother is a spring chicken in comparison.  What makes you think I would consider anything else in regards to yourself??
   ?I?m older than this nation.?
   ?Every current nation on the planet put together fails to come close to my age.  Your point would be what, exactly??
   ?I?m trying to earn their trust while continually lying to them.?
   ?Specifically, trying to earn the trust of a certain attractive redhead I might have met??  He saw her smile return, then caught a spark of jealousy behind her eyes.  It was quickly replaced by embarrassment as his smile caused her to resume her blush.
   ?Maybe.?
   ?A certain redhead who is probably wondering where we are at this moment??
   She blinked once, clearing her thoughts of silken red hair and the woman whose head it adorned, and focused on his statement.  ?Oh.  Right.  I guess we should go back??
   ?Sounds like a plan.  We can speak more on this matter later if you wish to.?
   Tara nodded in reply, giving a kind smile in lieu of voicing her thanks for the shoulder offered.  She silently gestured and the two of them were gone in a small flash of light once more.

   <*> Angel?s Mansion <*> Sunnydale, CA <*>

   ?So, Red, ignoring the cheap shot, what exactly is going on between you and that little blonde hottie??
   ?Faith!?
   ?What did I say, B?  She seemed to be thinking something was going on with us when she walked in.?  The dark-haired Slayer shot an incriminating look across the room to the witch reclining on the sofa.  ?Maybe she was wondering if she could join us.?
   ?Hey!?
   ?Faith, enough!?  Buffy took to her feet, pushing the chair back a few inches in the process.  She proceeded to stare down her younger counterpart, who seemed rather content to sit and smirk from the relative comfort of her own seat.
   ?No, Buffy, I want to handle this.?  Willow stood from the couch, taking a few steps towards the Slayers while switching into her ?resolve face? mode.  She jabbed a finger forward, poking the younger Chosen just below her left collarbone.  ?The last time you came into Buffy?s life, you nearly got her arrested, murdered someone, almost killed Xander and tried to kill Angel, so there is nothing short of an intercession from some divine power that will make me even remotely begin to trust you!?
   ?I think I can cover that marker.?
   The quartet directed their attention to the source of the statement, catching sight of the estranged seraph just inside the front doors.  Willow was the first to note that he was alone and redirected her anger, not yet fully vented, to the newest occupant of the room.
   ?I don?t trust you, either? and where is Tara??
   Ignoring the tangible ice in the voice of the redhead, Uriel answered her query.  ?At your dorm room, waiting to finish the conversation the two of you were going to have.?
   ?Oh.  Um, I gotta go.?
   The assemblage watched as she quickly walked to and out the double doors, with the dark-haired Slayer and Fallen both smiling at her back.  The three supernatural people then turned to face an Englishman clearing his throat, now standing in front of the plush chair he had been residing in.
   ?I think I shall take my leave as well.  Buffy, do take care.  Faith.?  He nodded to both Chosen, followed with a warning stare into the face of the self-proclaimed former angel.  Giles proceeded through the wreckage of the shattered patio doors towards the side entryway.  As he stepped into the sunlight, he heard another set of feet cracking the shattered glass behind him.  He slowly wheeled about, finding himself looking into the face of the tall man once more.  ?What is it you want with them??
   ?If I knew, I would gladly share that information.?
   ?And yet you expect them to trust you with their lives??
   ?No, just hoping that I can save them when the time comes.?
   Not expecting that answer, Rupert nodded in mild consent, then turned and continued up the stairs.  His heart wanted to believe the unusual individual, but his mind refused to accept help from any further outside sources.  The Initiative looked helpful on the surface, but their methods and actions were proving more destructive and devious than he would have thought possible.  He reminded himself that it was the United States military he was considering and approached his auto with mixed emotions.
   Uriel watched the surrogate father to the blonde Slayer disappear from view, then returned to find a pair of Chosen impatiently waiting for him.
   ?So, now what, U??
   ?Simple.  We train.?
   ?You and me?  C?mon, we?ve already been down this road, and I keep kickin? your ass.?
   ?The first time, I let you.  The second time, I was not expecting it.  Now, do you really think I would be that easy a target if I decided to not hold back??
   ?Only one way to find out.  Ready, B??
   ?You need the practice more than I do.?  The older Chosen also wanted to assess his fighting abilities, just in case Giles? suspicions held true.
   ?Suit yourself.  Can?t promise I?ll leave you any.?  That said, the raven-tressed Slayer charged forward, using her speed to enhance a right-handed haymaker.  She blinked as she felt her fist become enfolded within the palm of Uriel?s left hand.  She looked up to see the mirth gone from his eyes and a stern look etched upon the rest of his face.
   ?Slow.?
   Tightening his grip on her hand, the Fallen whipped her about, sending her skidding across the stone floor towards the patio.  Her progress caused most of the shards of glass to scatter away from her, though a few found their way through the leather of her pants and into the vulnerable flesh of her legs.
   Buffy watched as the kind, patient man she had come to know over the past few hours suddenly became cold and detached.  She saw Faith rise to her feet and charge forward again, leaving a pair of bloody handprints on the cold, stone floor.  She raised her right arm for another swing, but switched tactics on her last stride, planting her left foot and using her momentum to deliver a solid backhanded strike with her right hand.  She felt the impact, and smiled inwardly at the knowledge of connecting with the blow.  It was short-lived, however, as she felt her entire spinal column explode in pain as Uriel drove his left knee into her unguarded back, just above her waist.
   ?Weak.?
   The former angel continued his assault, the pain causing Faith to unconsciously bend backwards, allowing him to deliver a vicious overhand punch with his right to her left shoulder.  Using the momentum of the blow, the younger Slayer brought her right heel to bear into her opponent?s jaw, resulting in a satisfying crunch.  Gripping his right wrist as she completed her back-roll, the younger Slayer found her footing and yanked him towards her, delivering her right knee into his stomach.  Preparing to drive her elbow into his back, Faith never anticipated the swift, forceful blow to her kidneys.
   ?Obvious.?
   Still bent over, with his right shoulder against the washboard stomach of the young woman, Uriel had used his left arm to deliver the stunning punch.  Repeating the process twice more, he felt the muscles in his opponent begin to waver.  Rotating counter-clockwise, the former angel straightened his back and, using the added force of his momentum, smashed his left elbow into the corresponding temple of the former Bostonian.  He watched as she fell, her head bouncing off the stone floor with a sickening thud.
   ?What the Hell did you do to her??  Buffy had watched the fight with trepidation, comparing it to her encounter against Adam.  When Faith fell, she wasn?t sure if her younger counterpart would ever rise again.  The small pool of blood forming from her mouth did little to change that opinion.
   ?She still lives, Elizabeth.  Just unconscious and much more out of shape than I had thought, as I suspect you are.?  Noticing the blood flow, he walked calmly across the room, past the blonde Slayer, and stopped at his backpack.  Reaching inside, he procured a small vial of purple liquid.  ?Get her upright or she will choke on this.?
   ?Wait a sec, what is it??
   ?Atlantean artifact.  Speeds up the healing process via corporeal restoration through genetic memory.?
   ?Huh??
   ?It restores her to the way she used to be.?
   ?You just beat her into an bloody mess, and now you expect me to believe what?s in that vial is going to save her life??
   ?This from someone who was willing to end the life of the person in question less than twenty-four hours ago.?
   Acknowledging the truth to those words with her silence, Buffy knelt on the floor next to Faith, bringing the young woman to a seated position by grasping her shoulders.  She watched carefully as Uriel gently opened the bleeding mouth of her counterpart, applying three drops of the odorless concoction onto her tongue.
   ?That should have her awake in about an hour.?
   Lowering the younger Slayer back to the floor, Buffy stood and cast a stern gaze at the other conscious occupant of the abandoned manor.
   ?What??
   ?You think I?m out of shape??
   ?Willing to prove me wrong??
   ?Any time you?re ready.?
   With little more than a nod between them, the two combatants charged one another.

   <*> Angel Investigations <*> Los Angeles, CA <*>

   ?So, what exactly will we be facing?  Chaos demons?  A horde of vampires??  The forlorn stare Cordelia directed at him made the Englishman internally cringe in fear of the possibilities.  ?Not more lawyers??
   ?I?m not sure, Wes, though I think even Wolfram and Hart would try to avoid whatever this is.  All I could make out was a brief glimpse of Buffy.  Everything else was too much of a blur.?  Tilting her head upwards, the aspiring actress shouted at the late afternoon sky.  ?Could you be a little more vague next time??
   ?Cordelia, do you really think it wise to question the motives of so powerful a force??  Wesley loaded the last bag of weapons into the trunk of Angel?s car, noting the descent of the sun.  If the almanac was correct, the last rays would slip past the horizon in little more than two hours.
   ?Maybe if they were more forthcoming, I wouldn?t feel like I was being used.?
   Not knowing how to respond, the ex-Watcher simply closed the lid of the trunk and began walking to the entrance of the building.  Turning to face the young woman, he spoke the only words which came to mind.  ?If your judgment is correct, then not a single being exists who is not their pawn.  How sad would life be then, I wonder??
   ?What is it with you British people?  Do you enjoy driving people further into depression??
   With a slight grin on his face, he responded.  ?I think it?s the weather in London.  All that fog and rain.?
   Sighing in frustration, Cordelia Chase stormed past him, heading inside to make last minute preparations for their pending departure.  Seeking out her employer, she found him in his office staring at a photograph.  Though she was unable to see it from her angle, the dark-haired woman knew exactly who it was.  ?Feels like you can never get away from her, doesn?t it??
   ?No, more like chasing a rainbow.  You think you?re getting closer, that you can almost touch it.?  Placing the picture into a drawer in his desk, Angel turned to face his receptionist.  ?Were you able to reach Giles??
   ?Had to leave a message on his machine.  I told him we?d be there around 9 o?clock.?
   ?Wes finish packing the car??
   ?I think so.  I didn?t see any more bags in the other room.?
   ?Then we just have to wait for sunset.?

   <*> Willow and Buffy?s Dorm Room <*> Sunnydale, CA <*>

   Willow was greeted by the familiar form of Tara, standing anxiously outside her room.  She reached into her pocket for her keys while continuing forward, attempting to break the pseudo-hypnotic trance the waiting woman seemed to have on her.  By the time she had them in hand, the redhead discovered she had already reached the portal, once again meeting awaiting eyes.
   ?Hi.?
   ?H-hi.?
   She glanced down to slide the key into the lock, noticing the dull yellow sand that had gathered, almost reverently, onto the delicate feet of the blonde witch.  Returning her gaze to meet the one before her, she found herself with more questions looking into those blue-green orbs than she currently knew the answers to.  She opened the door and stepped into the room, beckoning Tara to enter.  The open entrance was forgotten as curiosity and concern overtook her.
   ?Are you okay??
   ?Y-yeah.?
   ?What did you need to talk to him about??
   ?U-Uriel?  S-something he said re-reminded me of a dr-dream I had.?
   ?How did you know who he was??
   ?He kn-knew my m-mother.  I k-kind of r-remembered him from w-when I was y-younger.?
   ?Oh.?  Willow took a step closer, catching a whiff of saffron drift off the blonde witch.  ?Can we trust him??
   ?Do y-you tr-trust me??
   The redheaded hacker again gazed into eyes mere inches from her own, though the trepidation she now found there needed to be dispelled.  ?Of course I trust you, Tara.?  With those words, she watched a tear begin its slow traverse down the left cheek of the blonde.  On pure reflex, Willow raised her right hand to wipe the saline drop away and felt a small rush of heat greet her palm.  Uncertain of how to respond, she waited as Tara began to close the small distance between them.
   The blonde witch responded by capturing the gentle hand still resting against her cheek beneath her left palm.  Slowly drawing both down, she brought the supportive appendage to rest on her shoulder before starting towards Willow.  Gliding her fingers along the slender arm, Tara was rewarded as the faint touch of the digits sent a tingle along the alabaster skin of the long-time Scooby.
   An electric shudder coursing along her spine, the redhead stood transfixed as the blonde drew a little closer, fingers trailing along her upper arm, then shoulder, and finally coming to rest at the base of her thoracolumbar fascia.  Willow felt her own arms wrap around Tara as the right hand of the curvaceous blonde entangled itself in her crimson locks.
   ?Thank you.?
   The two words were an ethereal whisper as Tara gazed into forest green eyes and brought her mouth to Willow?s.  The peck was feather-light, barely grazing her lips, but the emotion conveyed in that brief contact removed any doubts the redhead still held as to the direction their relationship had taken.  Cupping the left cheek with her right hand, Willow drew their faces together again.
   The kiss was subtly longer than their first, followed a moment later by another.  The redhead brought her tongue forward, gingerly caressing the lower lip of the scarcely open mouth.  Caressing the small of her back, Willow felt the warm breath of her fellow witch mingle with her own.  Delicate tongues lovingly massaged one another, enrapturing the hacker in incomparable bliss.  The sensation was short-lived though, as she felt the blonde pulling away.
   ?Tara??  Seeing tears again threaten to issue forth, Willow reached forward to lend a reassuring hand, only to have the person in question back out of the room completely.
   ?I-I?m s-s-sorry, W-Willow.?  Turning, the woman once known as Thyra broke into a run, suppressing the desire to stay.
   Stunned, the redhead watched for a few moments as Tara began her flight before being able to incite movement from her legs.  She watched as blonde tresses disappeared around a corner towards an exit from the building.  As she turned to face where the owner of that hair should be, Willow found only a set of closed doors, though they were less than twenty feet away.  Confused as to what had transpired in the last few seconds, the redhead discovered herself unable to answer the new questions that had arisen in her mind and heart.  Focusing for a moment, she thought of someone who might possess the ability to enlighten her and marched forward.

   <*> Angel?s Mansion <*>

   The sound of wood striking wood, coupled with someone breathing heavily and leather scraping against stone was the first thing Faith heard.  Opening her eyes slowly, she found herself staring up at the ceiling through a faint red haze.  Ignoring her skewed vision for a moment, she focused on the noises she heard.  The weary breaths belonged to B? of that there was no doubt.  The younger Chosen attempted to sit up and was answered by sore muscles unable to perform that normally mundane task.  Releasing a small groan of disappointment and pain, she discovered her movement had not gone unnoticed.
   ?Stay down.?  Uriel turned his head to face his newest charge while still anticipating the attack from Elizabeth.  ?You.  Still.  Need.  To.  Rest.?  Each word was punctuated with a clash of weapons, with Buffy losing ground as the Fallen pressed his attack.
   Taking his words under advisement, the younger Chosen complied with the request, though she rolled onto her side to observe the battle.
   ?Do you intentionally drop your guard on your right side, or is that merely utter lack of skill??  Uriel slammed the lower end of his stave into the exposed ribs of the Slayer to illustrate his point.  Bringing the high end down, he inflicted an equal amount of pain to her left forearm which had reflexively risen in response to the previous impact.
   Buffy thought her muscles were on fire.  In all her battles, no one had caused her to hurt in so many places simultaneously.  It had been her idea to switch to armed combat after taking three shots for each one she landed on the fallen angel in hand-to-hand for half an hour.  She allowed him to choose, asking which are he thought she needed the most work in.  When he tossed a six foot shaft of wood to her, she thought it would put them on more equal footing.  She quickly began to see his point about her lack of experience with the weapon, as he was brutally punishing her with it.
   In the fifteen minutes they had been dueling, she had not connected with a single offensive attack.  For some reason unknown to her, the blonde Slayer could almost swear he was becoming angrier with each swing since Faith had regained consciousness.  That gave her a plan.
   Pushing past the pain in her arms, she brought the left end of her staff down hard, positioning his weapon perpendicularly to the floor.  Drawing on her reserves, the veteran Chosen viciously swung the other side of her staff up, catching Uriel squarely in the chin and snapping his head back.  It was a blow that would have shattered the jaw of a lesser being, possibly even remove their skull from their shoulders.  Her victory was short-lived as an extremely sharp pain struck the right side of her head, causing everything to go dark.

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

   Xander was used to disappointing relationships.  First, there was the human-looking insect teacher.  Then the life-sucking mummy.  Then Cordelia and Willow.  The last name that was currently causing his temples to throb more than usual was Anya.  Following the conversation in his ice cream truck, it had been decided that he was going to the party to see his friends while she avoided the residence of the demon-hunting soldiers.
   Part of him felt very much like a loser.  Here he was, working a dead-end job, living in the basement of the house he grew up in, with no visible means of escape.  His friends were in college, working towards degrees that would enhance and broaden their scope of the world, while all he could see were the four walls surrounding him.  What kind of life was that to offer to any woman, let alone one who knew what North America looked like when the Vikings first landed there?
   Determined not to let the others be aware of his problems later, he reached for his CD player and the most listened to disc in his meager collection.  Pressing play, Xander skipped over the first few tracks until he reached the only piece of music he had ever memorized.  Setting the player to continually repeat the song, the young man collapsed into his bed and allowed Ronnie Van Zant to once again ask the question Xander pondered every day.

   <*> Angel?s Mansion <*>

   Uttering a small groan at the pain still throbbing in her skull, Buffy went to push off of the floor beneath her.  The softness and lack of resiliency on the material beneath her palms caused her to open her eyes.  The most immediate thing she noticed was that the ?ground? under her hands consisted of cushions from the same couch she had shared with Faith earlier in the day.
   ?Enjoy your nap??
   Twisting her head in the direction of the younger Slayer?s voice, Buffy discovered two things.  First, the raven-tressed young woman was seated in the chair Uriel had occupied, eyes gently watching her.  Second, the motion had caused her pain to mercilessly flare up, convincing her to lower herself back onto the couch.
   ?Ow.?
   ?I?ll take that as a ?no?.?  Looking into the room behind her, Faith shouted to an individual out of sight to both women.  ?U, you got anything to deal with a headache??
   The voice was audible, though at a much more comfortable level.  ?Yes, though I doubt your yelling helps it in any way.?
   ?Oops.  Sorry, B.?  Faith could see the confusion behind Buffy?s eyes and adjusted her gaze to Uriel as he stepped into view.  ?I don?t think she knows what happened.?
   ?Someone want to tell me then??
   ?Faith should.  She had the best view of what transpired.?  Uriel rummaged into a side pouch on his backpack and pulled out a white medicine bottle.
   ?Another ancient remedy??
   ?Hardly.  Excedrin Migraine.?
   Extending her right hand, she accepted two of the small pills and popped them into her mouth, swallowing them dry.  Closing her lids, she heard Faith begin to recount the events.
   ?After you caught Uriel in the jaw, he took the end of his staff that was on the floor and slammed you in the side of the head.  He wasn?t even looking, not that you ever saw it coming.  He hit you so hard you did three full twists in mid-air before you landed on the floor.?
   ?When I saw what I had done, I checked your injuries, then brought you over to the couch.  You have a serious concussion and a lot of bruises, but no internal bleeding thankfully.?
   ?How long??
   ?Were you out?  Well, Willow walked in about half an hour after you went down.  She yelled at U for nearly an hour about you and her girlfriend, then she bailed, but not before ripping into me for ten minutes.  That was about half an hour ago, so I?d say a little better than two hours.?
   ?You were watching me the whole time??
   ?Can?t say I didn?t enjoy the view.?
   Though the words were softer, they seemed to be closer than the last time Faith spoke.  Opening her eyes again, she found the younger woman only a few inches away.  Dark brown orbs met blue, searching for some sign of reciprocation.  Buffy was unsure how to react, then mentally recounted what she had been told.
   ?Willow was here??
   ?Yeah, something about that blonde chick ducking out on her.  Couldn?t hear the whole conversation.?
   ?Where did she go??
   ?Don?t know, she just stormed back out the front door.  She didn?t seem to be in much of a sharing mood.?
   ?We have to find them.?  Placing her weight on an elbow, the blonde again tried to stand, only to find her equilibrium still askew.  Guiding hands on both her shoulders led her back down to the couch, where the room?s rotation was significantly lessened.
   ?Slow down, girl.  You?re in no shape to walk, let alone go running after people you have no idea where to start looking for.?  Turning towards the other end of the room, Faith addressed the most recent addition to their strange group.  ?U, don?t you have anything to help her??
   ?Just a moment.?  Uriel walked to where the couch, motioning Faith to move a few paces back.  Closing his eyes and placing his palms together, he began intoning a short chant from long-forgotten memories.  An iridescent blue aura surrounded his hands, which he lowered to the temples of the prone Slayer as he completed a second recital of the ritual.  The glow dissipated almost immediately, as clear, focused eyes opened below him.
   ?Wow.  No pain.?  Buffy propped herself up on her elbows as the former angel stepped away.  Finding no discomfort, she gained her feet, nearly losing them as a brief sensation of vertigo caught her.  ?Wait, could be wrong.?
   ?The effects are only temporary, unfortunately.  You will need a full night to recover completely.  Faith, would you escort her home please??
   ?No prob, U.?  Inserting herself beneath the right arm of the blonde Chosen, Faith started to guide them towards the door.  ?I?ll even make sure to tuck her in.?  She shot a Cheshire grin over her shoulder, noticing the smile attempting to hide behind Uriel?s hand as he shook his head back and forth.
   As the two women exited the building, the Fallen caught part of their conversation through the closed door.
   ?Faith??
   ?Yeah, B??
   ?You probably won?t believe me, but??
   ?What??
   ?I?m glad you?re back.?
   Not hearing their footsteps, Uriel took it to mean they were beyond his range.  As he heard two sets of shoes again touch cement, he heard Faith utter one last thing.
   ?I hope I am, B.  I really hope I am.?

   <*> Warehouse District <*>

   As the sun was beginning to set over the ocean, the limousine driver pulled into an abandoned factory just as he had been instructed to.  Assembly line equipment could clearly be seen in various areas, while pallets of disregarded freight sat rotting and decaying by the loading docks.  It appeared as though the building had gone mostly unused for a few years, though there were signs of previous habitation.  As the car came to a stop, the demon turned the vehicle off, stepping out to open the door for his passenger.  He held out his hand in courtesy and it was met with a pale feminine one, nails painstakingly painted a delicate shade of eggshell white.
   As the woman he was simply to address as ?Mistress? emerged, he looked inside to check on the manicurist they had picked up near Los Angeles.  She was naked and lying on the floor of the passenger area; all signs of life had fled her small frame.  The young woman, probably around nineteen years, had red hair with sun-bleached highlights enclosing a delicate face.  It was in that countenance where he discovered something odd.  He could tell she had been drained of her blood by the puncture wounds at the carotid artery? that much he had been expecting.  It was the look on her face that caught his attention ? she seemed to have died happy.  If he wasn?t mistaken, the smile on her bloodstained lips indicated she had died very happy.  The voice of the Mistress returned his gaze to her as he wondered why the Council had chosen this? vampire as their newest envoy.  He found himself locked in her eyes, unable to tear away, and suddenly understood their reasons.
   ?I had considered letting her live.  She told me she was a natural redhead.  She lied.?
   The demon, named H?Dolnyr, watched as the Mistress slowly walked across the cement floor, surveying their new base of operations.  He could have sworn she had a wistful look on her face as she gazed a little longer at a certain spot, but any emotion she might have felt was quickly swept away and replaced with a visage of impassiveness.
   ?I remember this place.  It looked somewhat different the last time I was here.  Business first, though.?  She pivoted on a bare left foot, causing the crimson, ankle-length skirt she wore to flare slightly.  ?We need? friends.  Find us some, H?Dolnyr, and bring them here.?  She began to continue her walk through the abandoned building when she stopped and cast a glance at the demon over her shoulder.  ?Try to find pretty ones like our friend in the limo.  You should know I like to play with? pretty things.?
   The Mistress shifted her gaze back into the limousine and seemed to postpone the surveying for the time being.  She turned and virtually glided across the floor to the still open door and stepped inside.  Gently, almost reverently, she arranged the girl?s body flat against the floor, placing the arms in repose across the former manicurist?s chest.  The Mistress stretched languidly along the wide leather seat, parallel to the faux redhead, and began tracing the nail of her right index finger delicately along the smooth curves of her dormant Childe?s stomach.
   ?She?ll be awake soon.  Please hurry.?
   H?Dolnyr nodded curtly, then stepped out into the gathering darkness of the night, allowing the Mistress time to be with her Childe.  Demon or not, there were some things that even he preferred not to know when it came to vampiric family structures.  He sniffed the breeze, sifting through and separating the various scents.  Selecting a distinctly familiar odor from an eastern current, he began to follow it in search of ?friends.?

   <*> Angel?s Mansion <*>

   Uriel dwelled on the notion of the ?Chosen Two? after they left the mansion, shaking his head in amusement.  The nocturnal denizens of Sunnydale would soon be in for a surprise: a cooperative Slayer patrol, unseen in over a year.  He mentally reviewed an ancient kata of his own design, hoping to relax after the workout.  He rediscovered entire groups of muscles he had forgotten existed, his body unaccustomed to performing anywhere near peak levels for several decades.  Though he would never admit it to her, Elizabeth had given him quite a challenge.  Had he not possessed his vast knowledge of combat techniques, she might have defeated him.  As he gave consideration to what injuries might have resulted from the training sessions, a shudder rippled its way down his back.  It was followed by a warm breeze, heavy with a distantly familiar odor, wafting across the nape of his neck.  The voice carried upon it made him recall the scent immediately.
   ?You know, little brother, you always did have absolutely no luck when it came to the endgame.?
   The fallen angel slowly pivoted about, bringing his gaze to bear on a strikingly handsome man.  He stood an even six feet in height, with short, dirty blonde hair and goatee.  His eyes were a blue so pale they were nearly transparent.  His golden skin, reminiscent of Greek gods, seemed to emit a radiance of its own.  His attire consisted of a white linen suit, a button-down shirt the same color as his eyes and huarache sandals, none of which seemed to have been worn more than ten minutes.
   ?Luc.  Long time, no see.?
   ?You know how much I hate that nickname, little brother.  We made a deal, remember??  The well-dressed gentleman removed a cigar from his left breast shirt pocket, lighting it from a small blue flame produced in the palm of his left hand.  He inhaled a modest drag, savoring the flavor before releasing a blue-white cloud of smoke.  ?You don?t call me ?Luc,? and I don?t call you ?Urie.? ?
   The dark-haired man winced at the name for the second time today.  ?Thanks for the reminder.  All right, then? what do you want, Lucifer??

   <*> <*>
 



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