The flux of light from both the moon and the street lights illuminated the
figures below. Darkness engulfed the buildings and all except the pitiful
remnant that was not illuminated. Two figures made love under the feeble
glow. Faith embraced La Morte and her lips connected with his. His strong
grip loosened, and she felt his now gentle fingers loosen the buttons on
her shirt. She felt lower down his torso while her passionate brown eyes
met his cold blue ones. He raised his other hand and sifted it through her
cascading raven hair. He detached his lips from hers and they both stared
at each other for only a few seconds that seemed like an eternity.
She spoke up, "why?"
La Morte smiled and didn't answer. He whirled around and ran off into the night. Faith didn't follow him and slid down the wall, exhausted from her long, tedious day culminating in the little incidents with La Morte. She had been going at it with Robin Wood, and had screwed dozens of other guys but this man seemed different. He was shadowy, mysterious, a tenacious fighter, passionate and handsome. A smirk crossed her face as she recalled Caleb's comment to her that she was a Cain to Buffy's Abel. Well, if that was true then La Morte definitely was her version of Angel and Spike. In fact, he seemed to combine the best of both worlds. He had the mysterious, shadowy, brooding sense of Angel and the British spunk, humor and savage passion of Spike. True, he had just tried to kill her, but that never mattered to Faith, she always loved dangerous men but this dangerous man was surely different from the others.
"Faith."
Her thoughts were interrupted by a purple-haired figure.
"What do you want?" she snarled until she recognized the short man in front of her. He was dressed in a black leather biker's jacket, a sweat-stained t-shirt and jeans, an ensemble different from the Sunnydale High School student she knew years before.
"Oz."
Oz grinned, "That's me."
He reached out a hand to help her up. She accepted his palm and slowly rose to her feet. Oz chuckled suddenly.
"So who's the new boyfriend or should I say nemesis? I can't really tell the difference with you Faith."
Faith restrained herself from strangling Oz right there and returned the smile.
"I guess he's just a friend."
"Okay, well, I heard all about what happened since I left. Just seemed bizarre, you reforming, Willow turning into a big bad, Buffy and Spike, Dawn, Glory, the First Evil. I wished I could've come back but I had a few pressing commitments in Australia."
"Australia?"
"Don't ask, it's a long story."
"Guess I got all the time in the world, O."
Oz flinched at the little nickname. Faith always had a habit of calling people by the first letter of their first name, it seemed like some people just never change. He thought for a minute and then answered Faith.
"Faith, this is kind of important. I need to see the others right away, something really bad is brewing in this town and I suggest you take me to the hotel right away," Oz's tone changed from jesting to grave and his smile transformed into a frown.
"Alright," Faith nodded, her dark makeup highlighting her astonished features. "I'll take you over there." She motioned for him to follow her and they vanished off into the night.
Meanwhile, in a rundown section of LA, a desolate cathedral welcomed the shadowy figure entering it. He was dressed in the black armor and cloak of Robert La Morte. Robert collapsed once he entered the building and reflected on why he had spared the life of the slayer he was supposed to kill and then he proceeded to make love to the whore.
He tried to force out the sensations of lust and desire for the raven- haired slayer but he couldn't. She was just so.beautiful, so powerful and athletic. How he lusted to have her. He remembered his last love; he never loved anyone for over 500 years. Her name was Bianca Laszlo, she was a Hungarian princess who fell in love with him. She was literate, smart and rich, possessing an exotic beauty while he was a rugged, dirty vagabond born of peasants who had become a knight through his own devotion and skill. He recalled how Bianca's suitor, a jealous supercilious lord arranged for her murder and blamed it on him. He was left a fugitive throughout Europe and was hunted like a dog through the forests of the Balkans until the lord found him. The haughty villain then turned La Morte over to a satanic cult and supervised them in a ritual that planned to turn La Morte into a powerful warrior of darkness a creature part human and part demon. Luckily, a group of Jesuits intervened and they were able to alter the ritual so that he, now possessed the blood of an angel to counteract the vile demon blood within him. Nevertheless, he could command both the light and dark magicks with ease, he possessed superhuman agility and strengthen unknown to any vampire or slayer and he could even kill a hellgod with his sword.
He encountered Bianca years later, now a ruthless vampire terrorizing the lands where her dying father ruled. It was a swift fight and he never felt any qualms about staking his former lover. He never even felt emotion, passion or love until now. Perhaps those feeling had been concealed within him for some time and now he had met a human capable of receiving those feelings. He seized his head as his mind battled for control of its thoughts, both his angelic and demon sides combating in a frenzy. He writhed on the ground hoping the pain in his head would stop until the tall figure of Micah Luke stood over him.
"Come my son, it's time." The hand of Micah beseeched him to follow and La Morte obeyed overriding his desire for Faith and he rose up and followed the tall man.
Micah let out a piercing laugh, "it seems the bitch has afflicted you with her whorish charms. Nevermind, you shall deal with her later."
She spoke up, "why?"
La Morte smiled and didn't answer. He whirled around and ran off into the night. Faith didn't follow him and slid down the wall, exhausted from her long, tedious day culminating in the little incidents with La Morte. She had been going at it with Robin Wood, and had screwed dozens of other guys but this man seemed different. He was shadowy, mysterious, a tenacious fighter, passionate and handsome. A smirk crossed her face as she recalled Caleb's comment to her that she was a Cain to Buffy's Abel. Well, if that was true then La Morte definitely was her version of Angel and Spike. In fact, he seemed to combine the best of both worlds. He had the mysterious, shadowy, brooding sense of Angel and the British spunk, humor and savage passion of Spike. True, he had just tried to kill her, but that never mattered to Faith, she always loved dangerous men but this dangerous man was surely different from the others.
"Faith."
Her thoughts were interrupted by a purple-haired figure.
"What do you want?" she snarled until she recognized the short man in front of her. He was dressed in a black leather biker's jacket, a sweat-stained t-shirt and jeans, an ensemble different from the Sunnydale High School student she knew years before.
"Oz."
Oz grinned, "That's me."
He reached out a hand to help her up. She accepted his palm and slowly rose to her feet. Oz chuckled suddenly.
"So who's the new boyfriend or should I say nemesis? I can't really tell the difference with you Faith."
Faith restrained herself from strangling Oz right there and returned the smile.
"I guess he's just a friend."
"Okay, well, I heard all about what happened since I left. Just seemed bizarre, you reforming, Willow turning into a big bad, Buffy and Spike, Dawn, Glory, the First Evil. I wished I could've come back but I had a few pressing commitments in Australia."
"Australia?"
"Don't ask, it's a long story."
"Guess I got all the time in the world, O."
Oz flinched at the little nickname. Faith always had a habit of calling people by the first letter of their first name, it seemed like some people just never change. He thought for a minute and then answered Faith.
"Faith, this is kind of important. I need to see the others right away, something really bad is brewing in this town and I suggest you take me to the hotel right away," Oz's tone changed from jesting to grave and his smile transformed into a frown.
"Alright," Faith nodded, her dark makeup highlighting her astonished features. "I'll take you over there." She motioned for him to follow her and they vanished off into the night.
Meanwhile, in a rundown section of LA, a desolate cathedral welcomed the shadowy figure entering it. He was dressed in the black armor and cloak of Robert La Morte. Robert collapsed once he entered the building and reflected on why he had spared the life of the slayer he was supposed to kill and then he proceeded to make love to the whore.
He tried to force out the sensations of lust and desire for the raven- haired slayer but he couldn't. She was just so.beautiful, so powerful and athletic. How he lusted to have her. He remembered his last love; he never loved anyone for over 500 years. Her name was Bianca Laszlo, she was a Hungarian princess who fell in love with him. She was literate, smart and rich, possessing an exotic beauty while he was a rugged, dirty vagabond born of peasants who had become a knight through his own devotion and skill. He recalled how Bianca's suitor, a jealous supercilious lord arranged for her murder and blamed it on him. He was left a fugitive throughout Europe and was hunted like a dog through the forests of the Balkans until the lord found him. The haughty villain then turned La Morte over to a satanic cult and supervised them in a ritual that planned to turn La Morte into a powerful warrior of darkness a creature part human and part demon. Luckily, a group of Jesuits intervened and they were able to alter the ritual so that he, now possessed the blood of an angel to counteract the vile demon blood within him. Nevertheless, he could command both the light and dark magicks with ease, he possessed superhuman agility and strengthen unknown to any vampire or slayer and he could even kill a hellgod with his sword.
He encountered Bianca years later, now a ruthless vampire terrorizing the lands where her dying father ruled. It was a swift fight and he never felt any qualms about staking his former lover. He never even felt emotion, passion or love until now. Perhaps those feeling had been concealed within him for some time and now he had met a human capable of receiving those feelings. He seized his head as his mind battled for control of its thoughts, both his angelic and demon sides combating in a frenzy. He writhed on the ground hoping the pain in his head would stop until the tall figure of Micah Luke stood over him.
"Come my son, it's time." The hand of Micah beseeched him to follow and La Morte obeyed overriding his desire for Faith and he rose up and followed the tall man.
Micah let out a piercing laugh, "it seems the bitch has afflicted you with her whorish charms. Nevermind, you shall deal with her later."