Hell, I'm a writer, not a psychic. If I knew how the story was actually going to end, why would I bother? Good fics take on a life of their own... which can be a problem if the characters start telling you what THEY think they should be doing... worse if you respond and argue with them about it.
Anyway, Ch III, followed by Chs IV an V. Enjoy.
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 III: Questions
Inside a locked and warded room on the campus of UC Sunnydale,
Tara was lying face down on her bed, sheets akimbo. Rolling over, she exposed
her face to the world, though it was still partially concealed behind a
tangle of blonde hair. Lost in a state of unconsciousness, one indistinguishable
feature was prominent to any who might be watching over her. Tearstains
were clearly visible down both cheeks, proof that she had cried herself
to sleep.
As she dreamed, she continued to cry, both internally
and externally. She pictured herself drifting away from Sunnydale,
out to a place where no one could see her in her misery. Tara found
herself in a barren wasteland and allowed her tears to fall more freely,
descending to the dusty soil now beneath her feet. Falling to her
hands and knees, she began beating the ground where the moisture from her
eyes fell, pondering why she had to fall in love with someone who would
never return the emotion she most longed to feel. Each strike was
accentuated by her anguish, draining her until she could no longer summon
the strength to raise her arms. Sitting back on her heels, the blonde
witch turned her head skyward, unleashing a scream of pure, unrestrained
agony. Her body racked by tremulous sobs, she fell to the ground
in a heap, never noticing the sky darkening above.
Let it never be said that those who dwell amidst the heavens do not share in the cries of those on the ground below.
<*> Willow and Buffy?s Dorm Room <*>
Willow Rosenberg often dreamt of being wind, often picturing
herself as a classic representation of an elemental when she did so.
Her form was vaguely human: all the normal limbs and digits were present,
but she had learned not to limit herself to corporeally conceptualized
stimuli, reaching out with her entire being to touch; to see; to listen.
While dreaming, she wafted through trees or soared high above the ground
below. It was an event that had started early in her childhood as
a way to escape some of the teasing and snide comments directed at her
by the other kids. Over the past two years, it had changed into a
vision of power, granting her a glimpse of her potential as a witch.
This particular time, she decided to climb. The
earlier incident with Tara had left her questioning which emotions comprised
her dynamic with the blonde witch, leaving her with a need for a different
perspective of reality. Attaining an altitude where she felt comfortable,
the redhead gazed downward, watching commercial airlines fly along their
routes, ferrying people from one place to another as they went about their
lives. Extending herself to gain greater awareness of her surroundings,
she located a squall line of black, pendulous clouds off in the distance.
She began racing towards it, as rain was normally a rare occurrence in
southern California, and Willow took every opportunity she could to experience
it.
After half an hour, she arrived at the western edge of
the storm. While weaving through cumulonimbus clouds, water droplets
lovingly teased and danced along her form, glistening like cascades of
diamonds. An occasional updraft guided her through hidden canyons
of white illuminated by shafts of refracted sunlight, offering a stark
contrast to the ominous darkness of the clouds? outer shells. Lightning,
seemingly driven by a guiding hand, leapt from cloud to cloud, building
with each jump, until finally hurling itself into the ground with an almost
audible scream. The storm felt wonderful and alive. It was
only slightly surprising when she noticed a presence ingrained within the
system, which further piqued her curiosity. She had observed several
electrical displays of prowess when the storm seemed to perceive her, as
though judging her worthiness, or lack thereof, to be in place only Gods
and Goddesses once dared tread.
Tuning her senses to keep a closer eye on the arcing electricity,
she was caught off guard as a bolt of lightning streaked towards her from
behind, apparently having passed judgement on her intrusion. At the
last possible moment, it bent itself, gently encircling her waist and washing
over and through her with adoration. She stared transfixed as the
electricity coalesced into a humanoid shape in front of her, much like
the one Willow wore as she danced in a playground only birds seemed to
have the privilege of using. The lightning elemental?s right arm
stayed behind her at the small of her back, pulling her in tight, and Willow
?sighed? as their bodies started to come together.
The left hand tentatively trailed up her right arm, eventually
reaching and caressing her neck, sending small shivers down her spine.
As her companion drew their faces together, mortal words and thoughts paled
to describe the sensation as the two forces of nature ?kissed.? As
the osculation became more Epicurean, Willow felt the storm around them
strengthen, pooling its power and culminating into a supercell. Lightning
and wind began to flow into one another, creating a mesocyclone within
the clouds, and the redhead?s essence sensed a tornado form from their
union. The winds intensified around the pair, forming a protective
sphere of power with enough velocity to shred a 747 into confetti in less
than ten seconds.
As their souls intertwined, hers trembled in pleasure
as the passion felt for her by the other person permeated her identity.
It reminded her of a passage from a Clive Barker novel, of being ?both
entered and enterer,? and the redhead embraced the knowledge of whom she
was sharing these echoed sensations with. No longer able to deny
her true emotions within the joining, Willow chastised herself for waiting
so long. The thought was quickly swept away amidst empathic caresses.
The hacker promised to condemn any and all that came between them.
As the reciprocated sentiments of love and longing grew, the tornado built
further, with ground winds now exceeding 200 miles per hour. Though
the tower of raw force violently whipped left and right, the base never
strayed from its position directly below them. Willow began experiencing
the tentative stages of a spiritual orgasm, when a cacophonous noise intruded
her reverie, violently propelling her back to her corporeal body and ripping
her into semi-consciousness.
The sound reverberated through her ears once more, and
green eyes opened in narrow slits, glaring at the phone. Vowing to
inflict serious bodily harm to whoever was on the other end of the line,
Willow picked up the handset.
?Hello?? Her voice came out raw and guttural, as
though she had just finished a powerful, sustained scream.
?Willow??
?Hi, Giles.?
?You sound terrible. Is anything the matter??
?No, just dealing with sleep-dep.?
?Ah. Is Buffy around??
?Nope. Spotted her coming back from patrol, but
I got in early this morning and it looked like she had grabbed her equipment
bag and went back out.?
?How very odd.?
?So, why are you calling me at?? Willow scanned
around the room, locating the clock and groaning at the time displayed
there. ??ten in the morning??
?Riley had been kind enough to obtain an Initiative scanner
for me after Professor Walsh tried to have Buffy killed and I heard something
rather disturbing over it last night.?
?Giles, I?ve had four hours of sleep and you interrupted
a very?? She stopped herself from continuing. Things like that
tended to fall into the ?too much information? category. ?I was having
an enlightening dream.?
?Sorry. When you hear from Buffy, please ask her
to call me. Something rather unusual seems to be occurring with the
local vampire and demon populations.?
?Gotcha. Bye.? She ended the call, then mentally
conjured a few colorful expletives, both for Giles interrupting her dream
and for forgetting to tell him the information Spike had relayed to her
earlier.
She examined her current state and noticed that her nightshirt
was clinging to her small frame, drenched with sweat in several places.
Resigning herself to the condition of being awake, Willow discarded the
damp garment, wrapped herself in her robe and gathered the necessary toiletries
for a shower. Grabbing her keys, the redhead made her way out the
door, closed it behind her and walked towards the communal bathroom.
Calling Giles back could wait until after she was clean.
<*> Angel?s Mansion <*>
For better than four hours, Uriel had related various points
of his life: his arrival during the beginning of Atlantis? Golden Age;
the exceedingly long period of global strife experienced after its destruction;
the rise and fall of numerous pre-Egyptian societies. He spoke of
both the wonders and horrors of Egypt, Summeria, Greece and Rome, and of
the rediscovery of knowledge from the days of the most celebrated and mythical
culture to ever exist. He talked of his travels through war-torn
Europe and dynasty-ruled Asia; of the seemingly endless battles over territorial
boundaries; of the magnificent languages, poetry, paintings, sculpture
and architecture; and of the people.
In the days following the demise of the Roman Empire,
Uriel had finally understood what The Lady had wished to show him: the
indomitable human spirit. Cities and empires could be utterly destroyed,
but there were always people gathering others to themselves to rebuild
or relocate. Humans could be vicious, heartless monsters bent on
mindless destruction, but they could be tender, emotional, loving creatures
that wished for nothing more than to experience all that they could within
the short span of their temporal existences.
When he had finished, he looked to the Chosen on the couch,
noting that their earlier positions had changed during the course of his
tale. Faith was still on the end closest to him, though Elizabeth
was resting on her back, her head in the lap of the taller young woman.
He noted that the older girl had drifted off into contented sleep, while
the dark-haired Slayer fondly caressed the silken blonde locks dangling
over her leg. Her eyes traveled along the rising and falling lines
and soft curves from the slow, rhythmic breathing of the sleeping woman,
secretly wishing that nothing would break the sanctity of the moment.
It reminded him of a ceremony he had been privileged to
observe on a Greek isle twenty-six centuries past. That night, he
had been witness to multi-faceted aspects of passion comparable to those
in Heaven, leaving the festival with a longing for that very place he hadn?t
felt since the day he Fell. Watching the two young women before him,
Uriel suddenly wondered if he would even feel comfortable returning home
after having lived among humanity for so long.
Faith heard him stop speaking, though she hadn?t been
paying much attention for the last hour, focusing on Buffy after she slipped
into quiet slumber. She looked to his shaded eyes, pleading for the
same few moments alone that B had asked for in the ruined school.
The former Bostonian watched as he rose silently from his chair, picking
up the backpack that he seemingly kept with him at all times and walked
into the late morning sun streaming onto the patio, closing the glass doors
on hinges kind enough not to squeak. With only the two Chosen now
in the room, she began to unburden herself, whispering thoughts that had
been plaguing her the past few days.
?You know, B, I often had dreams about things like this.
You and me sharing a comfortable piece of furniture, with no one else around.
Some of it was kinda kinky, but most of it was just like this: quiet, peaceful,
uncomplicated? ya know? I kept thinking about it, even after I went
to work for the Mayor. I know you don?t understand why I did that,
B. Hell, to be honest, I?m not even sure why I did it. Part
of me wanted to get the inside scoop, but another part felt like I needed
to fill in for Allen. He treated me like his daughter, and in his
own, twisted way, I think he even loved me like one. When he asked
me to kill someone, I figured it was just some demon that had double-crossed
him. The first time it was a demon, so it wasn?t that different from
standard Slayer business. That?s what I told myself, anyway.
When I killed that professor though, without even asking for a reason,
I knew I couldn?t go back. That?s why I was smiling when you stabbed
me. I thought it was over.
?Imagine my surprise waking up in the hospital all those
months later. I wanted to run, but that little present the Mayor
left me made me change my mind. Some perverse part of me had always
wanted to be you, and that device gave me the chance. I figured I?d
waltz in, fuck up your perfect little life, then get as far away from the
Hellmouth as possible. You know, maybe give Xander one last ride,
try to make your mom and Giles hate you, seduce Willow? I would have actually
tried that. I figured she would either freak out or be a hot little
piece for the road, but I never would?ve guessed she was already batting
for the home team. Might have been interesting to make have a sex
sandwich with her girlfriend. Two blondes pressed up against a tasty
little thing like Red? could?ve made nights in the dorm a lot more enjoyable
for ya, B. Really was a shame they left so early. Then there
was Spike. Damn, B, I don?t know why you never threw him on a hard
surface and rode him until one of you couldn?t walk straight.? She
looked down at the elder Slayer?s face and reconsidered her last statement.
?I take that back, B. I think I do know why.
You?re all about love and tenderness and passion? shit, even Beefstick
understands that much. After the crap I put up with growing up in
Boston, it all became about detachment. Between my real dad disappearing
early on, mom marrying some junkie asshole who managed to kill her by turning
her into one, too, and my step-brother, who?? Faith paused for a
moment, looking back on memories she had tried to block out since being
Called. Shuddering from the horrors beginning to replay in her mind,
she decided to derail that particular train of thought.
?I can?t remember the last time I thought someone honestly
cared about me before today. The Mayor did, yeah, but he still wanted
something from me, even if he didn?t come right out and say it. Funny
thing is, I used to compare how much I thought people cared about you with
how much they hated me. Being you blew away what I imagined, B, on
both accounts. Red was practically willing to strap me in the electric
chair and throw the switch herself. I was pretty sure Xander wanted
to fuckin? kill me, but whether it was ?ing? or ?and? I wasn?t sure.
It was weird with your mom, though. She hadn?t completely given up
on me, and I used her as bait in her own home. I think she could
sense what I had gone through, but she couldn?t relate to it. She
didn?t pity me, just seemed sad? I can respect that, at least. After
we switched back, I wanted to run again, but I ended up here instead.
Then I saw the light at the school, and the rest you know.?
Faith leaned against the back of the couch, casting her
eyes to the patio where Uriel was sitting, reading something. She
rested her left hand on Buffy?s stomach, while the right caressed the blonde?s
left cheek with feather-light touches. ?Actually, you don?t know.
You couldn?t possibly know, even after your little road trip from sending
Angel to Hell. I think this guy does, though, if he is what he says
he is. We?re a lot alike in some respects. Both fallen away
from our callings in life, trying to get it back together. He?s doing
his job to get home; I?m doing mine to find one. You know, we forgot
to let him tell us why he?s here. No prob, we?ll just wait until
you open your eyes, and then??
She looked back to the peaceful _expression_ clearly visible
on the face of the elder Slayer and began to wonder, not for the first
time, if she would ever reach a day where the nightmares from both her
recent and distant pasts wouldn?t haunt her sleep. Amid all the chaos
this town could throw at you, Buffy had apparently managed to keep it out
of her dreams. Faith watched in curious fascination as the other
woman, her eyes moving beneath closed lids, seemed to experience an infinitesimal
moment of that peace.
<*> Giles? Apartment <*>
Rupert Giles was seated at his desk, pouring through several
volumes of Watcher Chronicles, searching for any prior instances where
demons and vampires had banded together. So far, he had recounted
nearly five centuries of text, with only a single occurrence during fifteenth
century France remotely related. The Anglican Church had sent a small
group of enslaved minions after a Slayer of that era, trying to stop her
for some unspecified reason. The girl?s Watcher did not understand
the reasoning, but had been proud of the way his charge had handled herself,
surviving the situation and even managing to dispose of a rather powerful
vampire named Gornokmet, a known killer of Slayers.
He was currently reading journals from the fourteenth
century, beginning to understand why Willow kept insisting they should
update to an electronic database, when the phone began to ring. Removing
his glasses for a moment to relieve the stress on his eyes, the Englishman
retrieved the handset from its cradle. ?Hello??
?Giles, have you heard from Buffy yet??
?No, Willow, I haven?t. I take it she hasn?t returned
to your room in the last hour, either??
?Not as far as I know. I stepped out for a shower,
but her bag is still missing. Giles, I?m starting to get a little
worried.?
?You think something might have happened to her??
?Well, not just that, but Spike was waiting for in our
room last night. He said? well, he said some really weird stuff,
but that can wait. He said he had seen Faith at the mansion late
last night.?
?Good Lord. If the Council finds her??
?Giles! Forget about the Watcher?s Council for a
minute! What about Buffy? Faith might have attacked her.
Remember? Evil Slayer? Doesn?t go poof when the sun comes up??
?We should investigate.?
?That?s why you?re the plan guy.?
?Willow, please. One Xander is more than enough.?
He heard her give a light chuckle through the phone line before responding.
?Okay, but I?m going to call the one we have before I
leave.?
?Right. I?ll get some things together and meet you
at the outer courtyard in one hour.?
?Got it. Bye.?
Giles released a heavy sigh as he hung up the phone, moving
to retrieve his glasses. Glancing at the array of tomes on his desk,
he caught another reference to Gornokmet, dating back to late thirteenth
century Italy. A Childe of his, an attractive young woman with a
powerful presence, had begun uniting different factions of demons with
her incredible charisma, beguiling them with ease. She was rumored
to be possessed of a talented tongue, in both debate and other, less proper
arenas. Giles snapped the volume shut suddenly, as a mild epiphany
struck him.
?Of course, how blind could?? He cut himself short,
flashing back to when that phrase had taken on a much more profound meaning.
Mentally logging the insight, he began gathering supplies from around his
home: a tranquilizer gun, a handful of pre-treated darts, a set of wrist
and ankle shackles, a first aid kit, a crossbow, and several wooden and
metal capped bolts. Placing the smaller items into a bag and the
rifle over his shoulder, he stepped out the door, locking it behind him.
Turning about, he practically ran over the small boy standing near his
door.
?I?m terribly sorry about this.? He felt a hand
tugging at the bottom of his jacket, and looked down to see that the skin
was tinged powder-blue? and covered only three digits. He looked
down to see a young face, vaguely human, staring up at him with amethyst
eyes.
?It?s okay, mister. We?re one of the nice people.
Like you.?
?That?s all well and good, but I am in quite a hurry,
so if we could continue this later?? He felt the pull a little firmer,
and saw the eyes begin to fill with a bit of impatience, accompanied by
fear.
?She?s coming, mister. She?ll be here soon, and
a lot of people are gonna get hurt.? The little demon boy let go
of his coat, turning and disappearing up the steps before Giles could even
begin to call after him.
?Who is coming? Who is she?? Left alone and
unanswered, the ex-Watcher started moving towards his car with an increased
sense of urgency.
<*> Willow and Buffy?s Dorm Room <*>
?Got it. Bye.? Briefly hanging up the phone,
Willow quickly picked the handset back up, dialing Xander?s number.
She would have preferred a cordless phone, just so she could gather things
while talking. The witch quickly noted that she didn?t actually have
anything to gather and situated herself on her bed while the phone continued
to ring. After eight rings, she decided that he wasn?t home and replaced
the receiver. Grabbing a jacket to walk over to the mansion, she
performed a mental checklist. Finding that everything ? meaning her
? was accounted for, she opened the door, only to find a certain blonde
witch on the other side, preparing to knock.
?W-Willow. Hi.?
?Tara. Hi.?
Both stared at the other, as the most uncomfortable, awkward
silence imaginable hung between them. Tara started to turn, preparing
to leave, when she felt a hand firmly encircle her wrist. She pivoted
to face the owner of that hand and met with green eyes filled with? she
wasn?t exactly sure.
?We need to talk.?
?Okay.?
?But not here and now. Not that I really don?t want
to, you know, ?here and now,? but I have to go meet Giles somewhere, so
that?s why not the ?here,? and I?m not sure if you want to come with, and
that?s the ?now,? and??
?Shhh.? Tara wanted more than anything to still
the redhead?s mouth with her own, but her uncertainty of the other witch?s
reaction to a kiss restricted her to using the index finger of her right
hand. ?I?ll come with.? A piece of her melted as a smile she
loved to see came from the face she often lost herself in. As her
hand was gently pulled away from soft, beautiful lips, she embraced the
sensations the brief contact from the tender touch she longed to feel elsewhere
had elicited throughout her frame.
Willow stepped into the hall, closing the door behind
her, and checked to make sure the lock was engaged. Satisfied that
it was, she turned to face the blonde waiting for her and, taking the hand
that had touched her both physically and emotionally into her left palm,
began walking down the corridor towards the exit.
<*> Angel?s Mansion <*>
When Elizabeth Anne Summers closed her eyes, a nightmare
was often waiting for her. During this particular venture into the
land of Nod, there were no horrifying images, no monsters awaiting her
arrival, and no scenes of her friends dying. She was simply alone,
in a void tinted a soft pink, and she felt? comforted. Buffy could
see no one else, but she still sensed someone close by who cared about
her and, quite possibly, loved her. It might have been Riley, but
she refused to speak to him since he slept with Faith. Well, technically,
he had slept with her, but the other Slayer had always been about getting
her jollies, not sensual lovemaking. Anya would probably use a term
like ?orgasm tools? over ?buddies? to describe the younger Chosen and her
paramours, since she didn?t seem to have any friends.
The coloration of the void changed, darkening to a crimson red,
and the blonde Slayer felt herself becoming flushed. There was definitely
love in the air; it seemed as though she could almost feel it on her face.
She reached out a hand to test how tangible it was, when an incredibly
loud noise, reminiscent of a shotgun blast, tore it all away.
Faith had mixed feelings about the sleeping woman in her
lap, due to recent developments. Buffy had rolled over onto her left
side, leaving her face a scant few inches from the leather-clad crotch
of her human headrest. The dark-haired Slayer hadn?t lied when she
spoke of dreams about this, but the reality was infinitely more frightening
than she would have imagined. Dreams of happiness or love never came
true for Faith, only the nightmares of death and destruction; her stepbrother
had made certain she understood that fact. She didn?t deserve to
be happy, or to find peace ? that was what she had been taught growing
up in Boston.
Sunnydale was different. The entire city was a living
nightmare. Between the hordes of vampires and demons feasting on
and terrorizing a populous that turned a blind eye to what was happening,
not to mention the Hellmouth itself, it made her previous life seem almost
idyllic. Here, she helped keep the nightmares at bay for other people.
The question was, who could keep the personal horrors she saw every time
she closed her eyes in check?
The thought was discarded as she felt Buffy shift again,
nuzzling in another inch towards the younger woman?s torso and bringing
her right hand to rest on the side of Faith?s hip. Warm breath began
to intensify an area already reaching the boiling point as the taller woman
entertained thoughts of how easy it would be to close the gap between the
two sources. She was aware of her left hand moving to the back of
the blonde?s head, though she had made no conscious effort to do so.
It rested there a moment as she weighed what the results of such an action
might be. ?I?d lose any trust you had in me again, B. Do I
do the smart thing and wait until you?re awake, or do I fuck it all up
like I did by helping out the Mayor?? Her voice was low and husky,
laced with her arousal, and scarcely louder than an errant breeze.
Her hand began to resume the actions of much earlier, dotingly running
fingers through tresses that seemed to demand caressing. As she did
so, a mild epiphany revealed itself.
?I belong here with you, B. I know I haven?t earned
the right yet, but I?ll try to make it up to you? somehow.? Her quiet
speech trailed off as Faith lowered her head towards the one resting in
her lap. She began approaching the upturned cheek of the other woman,
close enough now to smell her skin. It reminded the dark-haired girl
of the gardens at South Market during summer breaks from school, when she
could escape the problems awaiting her at home for a time. She moved
closer, her mouth now only half an inch away from its destination when
the front doors burst open, illuminating the room and casting three shadows
across the floor.
The sound startled the two women, catapulting Buffy from
her slumber. She tried to sit up quickly, resulting in a painful
collision as the crown of her head impacted with Faith?s chin. The
people in the doorway could only stare in silent shock, each pondering
exactly what they had just intruded upon. Their collective muteness
was broken as the patio doors were flung open, revealing a large man striding
towards them from the far side of the room, his duster flowing out behind.
He stopped after a few steps, apparently taking stock of them as well.
?What, does every vampire on the planet six feet or taller
own one of those??
?Willow, considering that he just came in from the sun,
I seriously doubt he is a vampire.?
?Oh. Maybe he uses really powerful sunscreen??
?He has a tan.?
?Oh, again. But, he?s got the whole dark, imposing,
menacing thing going, and Faith is here, and this is where Angel used to
live, and Faith had her hands on Buffy who looked like she might have been
unconscious, and? Buffy, what exactly are you doing here? With Faith??
Uriel quickly identified two of the individuals, recalling
the photographs attached to the files Malaika had given him, though the
young blonde woman was unknown to him. The Practitioner and the ex-Watcher
were now making their appearances in the unfolding drama, lending the impression
that the situation could deteriorate rather quickly. He cast a sidelong
glance at the redhead, trying to gauge how strong she currently was.
His mindset changed from inquisitiveness to bewilderment, finding no trace
of Magick present. No protective spells, residual energies from previous
workings, or even a hint of ability was perceptible. The possibility
she was somehow concealing herself made him slightly nervous: only a Practitioner
of Class XX Magick or better could do that, which would mean she had been
working some very powerful rituals recently to jump at least eleven classes.
Giles began to mimic Willow?s question internally, pondering
as to what the two Slayers, one with her head in the lap of the other,
could have possibly? and stopped there. He had witnessed such an
occurrence before in his earlier years, back when ?Rupert? was cast to
the wayside for ?Ripper.? Now, however, the thought disturbed him.
The act itself was not the problem, merely the possible participants.
Releasing a small sigh, he waited to see who would speak next. He
found the pause between thought and action extremely brief.
?Buffy, who is this guy? And what were you doing
with Faith?? Willow was starting to wonder if cosmic forces were
aligning against her to repay the harm she accidentally inflicted during
the ?Invoked Will? spell. First the conversation with Tara last night,
then the interrupted dream, and now? what the Hell was her best friend
thinking? This was Faith, the evil Slayer. The one who had
beaten her up. The one who had tried to kill Angel. The one
who switched bodies with Buffy not two days ago. Why was Buffy?s
head in the lap of their worst enemy?
Tara stood between Giles and Willow and had two thoughts
cross her mind. The first, ?They certainly seem to be able to express
themselves,? was quickly replaced by one she found herself voicing.
?W-w-waitam-minute. Faith? I?m a l-little confused here.?
?Guys, listen, this isn?t what it looks like. Nothing
is going on here.? Buffy Summers was quickly on the defensive, gingerly
rubbing the already fading bruise on her head as she swung her legs out
to stand. In the span of a heartbeat, she discovered it was the wrong
position to take.
?Right, B. We weren?t doing the whole Slayer bonding
thing, you didn?t try to make me think you trusted me again, and I didn?t
pour my heart out to you!? The old anger and frustration resumed
its dominance in the taller woman as she rose from her seat on the couch,
hurt by the fact that Buffy could so callously discard the events of the
last few hours. Her refusal to stay on the couch had wounded her
more viciously than even their balcony fight. ?You know what, I should
have just gone with my gut reaction and gotten the fuck away from you people.?
She felt a hand on her wrist, but wrenched free before the other Chosen
could get a firm grip. She continued to speak, though in a much softer
voice. ?Forget it, B. I?d just screw up all over again, and
I don?t think I could deal with disappointing you twice.? Faith quietly
walked towards the patio doors, casting a brief glance at the assemblage
before stepping outside.
Uriel watched as the elder Slayer moved towards the doors,
placing a hand on her shoulder to intercept her approach. ?If you
go out there now, you will only succeed in driving her further away, and
there may be no way to bring her back after that.?
?What am I supposed to do, then? She needs me.
I remember hearing that much, at least.?
?Go answer the questions the others have for you, Elizabeth.
I will speak with Faith.? He gripped both of Buffy?s shoulders firmly,
turning her about with ease. She stood there, unmoving, until he
delivered a firm swat to her bottom. She turned back around, fist
poised to strike. ?I have a few thousand years more experience than
you in dealing with people, and you are not thinking? clearly.? He
had almost said ?straight,? but reconsidered how the rest of the conversation
might go from there. ?It is both a positive sign and a negative one,
but the cons heavily outweigh the pros right now. Talk to the others.
If Faith leaves, I will let you know immediately.?
Reluctantly, she turned around and went back to speak
to the trio assembled at the door. From the looks she was receiving
from Giles and Willow, the next few hours were going to be very trying.
Uriel watched the young blonde go, curious as to how she
would handle them. Of the people he was supposed to help, only one
yet remained unknown. He turned to watch the patio, where he noticed
Faith looking through some of his papers. By the coloration at the
edge of the folder, he could see it had a golden tint. His mind halted
for a second, tabulating what he had seen. Faith. Looking through
a file. Looking through a gold file. Looking through her gold
file. ?Shit!? Dashing out onto the patio, he quickly envied
Buffy her role in explaining who he was to the Practitioner and the ex-Watcher,
compared to the barrage of questions he had no doubt Faith was mentally
preparing to ask him.
All that was missing now was Alexander Harris, whoever
he was.
<*> The Ice Cream Truck <*>
Xander was currently driving down one of the more popular
streets, where he often went to fill his daily quota of frozen treats to
be sold. Anya was seated next to him, quietly not complaining about
the lack of sex. After the incident in front of the small crowd,
she had decided to table the issue. Of course, the prospect of actually
doing it in front of an audience had excited her, but Xander had said something
about trying to keep a job more that a week for a change.
Arriving at the end of the block, he pulled into a parking
space and killed the engine. ?An, listen, I want to go to this party.
I don?t get a chance to hang with Buffy and Will much any more, but I still
want to spend time with you. If you feel that uncomfortable about
going, we should talk about it.?
?Why should we talk? After all, you don?t find me
attractive, you don?t want to have sex with me, but you would rather hang
around with two girls that you?ve lusted after but haven?t been able to
get into bed with you. Well, you did get Willow into bed with you,
but her boyfriend found you before you ripped the clothing off each other.?
Her _expression_ changed, though it was a short traverse from jealousy to
anger. ?Is that it? You?ve had me and now you?re bored, like
you were with Cordelia??
Banging his head against the outer rim of the steering
wheel, Xander wondered why he even brought the topic up. ?No, that
isn?t it at all. Anya, believe me, the sex is good. At times,
it?s mind boggling, but if that?s all there is to us, we don?t have a relationship.
Buffy and Willow are my friends and I need to interact with them once in
awhile. As for the whole ?getting into bed? thing, you weren?t here
yet when I had Amy cast a love spell that went SNAFU in a hurry.
I could have had my way with both of them, but they?re my friends and I
couldn?t take advantage of them.? He watched her _expression_ change
and wondered if he?d said too much.
?A love spell? On who? Did you want Amy, too?
What is it with you and witches? Is that why you?re with me, because
I used to use magic??
He started slamming his head harder and more frequently
against the steering wheel, wondering why someone else couldn?t be here,
enduring what would probably be an excruciating painful question and answer
session.
<*> <*>