A/N: Thank you very much for reading my story. I hope you enjoy it. It follows on from Season 5 and will comprise of three parts. Please review. Regards CC.
This story has been brought to you with the following soundtrack in mind:
Bullet with Butterfly Wings (Smashing Pumpkins)
Silence (Delerium featuring Sarah McLachlan)
One (U2 - Johnny Cash version)
I've Loved These Days (Billy Joel)
Teardrop (Massive Attack featuring Laura Fraser)
Preview of part one 'Betrayed Desires'
Buffy fought against the combined grip of Giles and Xander; thrashing like a wild animal. They flung her against the other wall. "Buffy!" Giles shouted, whilst he and the younger man pinned her arms. "What are you doing?" She continued to thrash, exerting her strength to try and push herself away from the wall. Giles released his grip, but used his free hand to slap her across the face. "Stop it!" He commanded.
The response was immediate; Buffy stopped struggling and tried to flatten herself even more against the wall. Her eyes were wide open, the mix of fear and shock almost palpable. "But….but he killed me," she whispered cryptically, a plea for understanding in her voice.
Preview of part two 'Rage'
"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Spike said quietly. "But, why do you have to be someone else? Why can't you be Buffy?"
"What, Little Miss Futile Gesture? She's dead. You buried that little girl. I didn't claw my way out of the ground to resume where she left off." She looked around at her silent friends. "Don't look at me like that," she pleaded. "I won't be judged!" She backed away as though she were trying to make space for a battle.
Preview of part three 'Silence'
"Shut up, both of you!" Willow admonished as she tried to keep her concentration on her task. "Faith, no!" She shouted suddenly as the brunette stepped forward, her feet making contact with the black.
Faith screamed in terror, her hands to her ears. Spike dragged her back behind Willow. She collapsed to the ground and curled herself into a ball. Willow finally turned round, satisfied that her spell was complete. She knelt down to Faith's level. The slayer had recovered enough to sit up, but was obviously still stunned.
"What was the spell?" She asked the Wicca.
"Fear."
"Fear of what?"
"I don't know; I can't read minds…yet," Willow smiled. "You tell me."
Faith stood up. "I'd rather not say, but right now I suddenly have pity for the people who ran from the building and….a strong resolve never to upset you again."
Resurrected
Part one
Betrayed Desires
The world is a vampire
sent to drain secret destroyers.
Hold you up to the flames,
and what do I get for my pain?
Betrayed desires
And a piece of the game.
(Smashing Pumpkins)
Prologue
Mud clung to her. It melded to her clothes. It clung to her exposed skin, like a baby newly emerged from her mother's womb. Her long blonde hair was caked with it, giving her a tribal appearance - a ritual savage. Blood dripped from her fingertips where nails once were. Her eyes blinked, dislodging drying mud to prevent it from taking hold. As she made slow progress through the streets of Sunnydale, her feet barely raised off the ground at each step.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Xander pulled the car to a halt outside Dawn's house; it was his and Anya's turn to baby sit. Since Buffy's death everyone had taken it upon themselves to look after her sister, adopting her as their own. Dawn's father had not been reached since her mother had died.
"You shouldn't expect immediate results," Xander advised, referring to the resurrection spell they had all taken part in, although it had been Willow who had provided the power behind the incantation. The others had been required to focus their joint memories of Buffy, to give substance to whatever the spell brought forward. This latter part, with its vagueness, disturbed Xander no end.
"I know," Dawn replied. "Some part of me still expected…...or hoped, at any rate that she would burst into the Magic Shop shouting I'm back."
"That would be more scary, if you asked me," Anya added.
They started to make their way up the path when Dawn noticed the front door was open. She looked at Xander; hope daring to show itself in her eyes. She then ran for the entrance.
"Dawn, wait," Xander shouted after her, but to no avail. He found the young girl, however, standing at the bottom of the stairs situated opposite the opened door. Dawn was looking down. "What's up, dear?"
"Mud," she replied simply. Xander followed Dawn's line of sight as she looked from the floor to the top of the stairs. Dried mud footprints traced each step. "The shower is on," she added after several seconds and she raced up the stairs with Xander and Anya close behind.
Dawn stopped at the doorway to the bathroom. She looked distressed so Xander held her shoulders and gently moved her aside to enable him to enter. Buffy sat huddled in the corner of the shower cubicle, fully clothed, with water flowing over her from above. Her eyes were open but no other sign of life registered from her.
Xander, with Anya close behind, approached his friend. Dawn held back. "Buffy?" Xander ventured. "Buffy, are you OK?" There was no reply so he tried a different approach. "You look as though you dug yourself out of….." he stopped suddenly in horror when he realised his attempt at humour was all too accurate.
He turned off the water and knelt down to Buffy's eye level. She finally showed some sign of consciousness; a brief flicker of her eyes confirmed that she registered Xander's presence. He reached out his hand and rested it gently on her shoulder. Buffy flinched as if stung and screamed. The sudden movement jolted Xander and he had to take hold of the sides of the cubicle to prevent falling backwards. He reached forward again, but was met by Buffy's feet kicking out frantically as she tried to squeeze herself ever more tightly into the corner of the shower, all the time screaming.
"Buffy!" Dawn finally echoed from the doorway.
Buffy stopped thrashing and went silent. Her eyes showed she was focusing on her sister. "Why am I here?" She whispered and went silent again.
Anya placed her hand on Xander's shoulder. "Why don't you go downstairs, Xander," she suggested. "Dawn and me will clean up here and join you later."
Relieved at being given a reason to leave the scene, Xander gratefully stood up and edged past Dawn.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-
She finally eluded her captors. Whilst relieved to be out of prison, she was not going to allow herself to be used in someone else's plans for domination; there was more than one type of imprisonment and she was not going to be anyone's pawn or weapon. Been there, done that. So, Faith decided to lie low until she saw an opportunity to leave town. She knew where she had to go but was in no rush to get there, knowing as she did that it was the last place she would be welcome.
Chapter One
Two days later everyone gathered at Giles' apartment. Everyone except Buffy and Dawn. Eventually, however, the front door clicked open to reveal them standing. For the first time, Giles noticed that Buffy was slightly shorter than her younger sister. The difference was emphasized by her appearance. Standing in the doorway, she looked like a frightened schoolgirl.
Dawn led Buffy by the arm a few feet into living room. The Slayer had a wide-eyed fearful look as though being confronted by a host of enemies rather than her friends. She saw Giles, and then registered the presence of Xander and Anya, Willow and Tara. She then looked to her sister, who placed a hand on her back and gently edged Buffy forward. She made slow, hesitant progress to the nearest sofa. Feeling her way round to the front of it, she finally sat down. She sat up straight and again scanned the room's occupants.
Giles handed her a glass. She took it with both hands, which shook with the effort, and raised it to her lips. She stopped short, however, when she caught the aroma of alcohol. Buffy looked up at him curiously. "It's brandy," he smiled encouragingly. "I thought you could probably do with it and….and you are nearly twenty one after all."
Buffy looked away and raised it to her lips again and drank the contents in two gulps. She held up the glass gesturing for more, her eyes almost boring into Giles. He refilled her glass. It was then he noticed the tips of Buffy's fingers; the ruin of what had been fingernails. He flinched only slightly at the sight, but Buffy noticed and lowered her arm as though ashamed. She looked down at the contents of the glass.
"If I'd known, Buffy that you would have to…." Willow started to say but cut off when Buffy looked at her. "I'm sorry," she tailed off.
"Why…why am I here?" Buffy asked, her voice barely audible.
Giles attempted to explain, "Willow found a spell that…."
"No…" Buffy interrupted in a whisper. Her grip on the glass caused it to break. She ignored the spilt liquid and the new cuts to her hand. "Not how….why?"
"We had to," Giles replied. "Angel…" Buffy flinched at the name. "Angel contacted us; he had heard rumours that Wolfram and Hart were going to attempt to raise you…..like they did with Darla….."
Giles was stopped short again; this time by the door being flung open. Spike entered. He had a look of hope not seen for a long time. "Is she here?" He pleaded.
Everyone was then thrown back in shock by Buffy jumping out of the chair. She swung herself round and leapt at the vampire before her, using the sofa as a springboard to reach him and screaming at the same time. Spike was too stunned to defend himself and floundered backwards to the wall with Buffy's hands at his throat.
She proceeded to land several punches to his face and stomach in a fit of berserker rage.
Everyone shouted out for the Slayer to stop her assault, and Xander and Giles finally extricated the young woman from Spike. The vampire had not put up any defence and was visibly shaken, more by the attack itself than the effects of it.
Buffy fought against the combined grip of Giles and Xander; thrashing like a wild animal. They flung her against the other wall. "Buffy!" Giles shouted, whilst he and the younger man pinned her arms. "What are you doing?" She continued to thrash, exerting her strength to try and push herself away from the wall. Giles released his grip, but used his free hand to slap her across the face. "Stop it!" He commanded.
The response was immediate; Buffy stopped struggling and tried to flatten herself even more against the wall. Her eyes were wide open, the mix of fear and shock almost palpable. "But….but he killed me," she whispered cryptically, a plea for understanding in her voice.
Buffy then looked over at the victim of her rage. She put a hand to her mouth and seemed to finally realise what she had done. "I'm sorry…..I thought…" she attempted to explain, but noticed that the room was silent and all eyes on her. "I've got to go." She edged her way along the wall to the door.
"Buffy….." Giles attempted to speak.
"No…..please, I must …..Spike, I'm so sorry." She made a hurried exit.
"Xander, follow her," Giles instructed the young man. "Make sure she is OK."
Chapter two
Buffy found herself outside The Bronze. The door was open slightly; the nondescript entrance let out a shaft of light and a gentle hum of music and revelry. She let Giles' brandy persuade her to enter. It was a normal night for the club; a band played enthusiastically to its demographic audience whilst the latter mostly ignored the stage.
Buffy approached the bar; her face matched the shuffle of her feet in its lack of purpose and emotion. She sat on a free barstool and ordered bourbon. The surprise at being served the alcohol, despite being under-age, was soon replaced by the feeling of helplessness. She was powerless to prevent things happening in her life. Despite being able to fight demons, she had been unable prevent her mother dying from natural causes. Despite loving two men in her life, both had decided she was too high maintenance to spend their time on and, despite dying, she was dragged back as though she had not yet finished suffering.
Her attention wandered and memory images played themselves in no particular order across her mind. She remembered Angel giving her a silver cross then the glint of a sword. She recalled Xander and Willow's awkward introductions back when her life had seemed simpler. She remembered the blissful leap into the vortex; so high was the platform that the fall had allowed her precious seconds to relish the release it was bringing. A vicious fight in a New York Subway train and a beautiful, yet doomed, martial art battle in China flickered with other images. Buffy rubbed her eyes with her free hand; the other held firmly her glass. Some of the memories did not seem right; she had died only twice yet she was recalling past battles. She put down the glass, catching sight of her hands. Mud and earth and soil and seeping water enveloped her.
"Can I buy you a drink?" A voice asked from the next stool.
Buffy jolted and almost glared at the man sitting next to her. She had not seen him sit down and almost accused him of creeping up on her. At the same time, however, she felt like hugging him as if he had pulled her from the ground himself. She nodded her head slightly and offered him a silent smile.
The stranger ordered a repeat order for Buffy and guided the glass to her hand, only briefly registering her scars. "I'm Thomas, by the way," he introduced himself.
"You're English," was all she replied, noticing his accent.
"Yes."
"Do you know, Giles?" She asked.
"Giles! Wow is he here?….no I don't actually."
"OK, I admit that was a silly question when there are a good few million of you."
"Several in fact."
"Are you making fun of me?" Buffy asked dangerously, although she found her mood was lifting slightly.
"Only a little bit."
"So, what're you doing here…I'm sorry," she rubbed her eyes then refocused them on Thomas. "That wasn't supposed to sound like an accusation."
"No worries. A hard day?" Buffy nodded. "I'm on holiday; travelling up the West Coast to Vancouver, eventually," he explained good-humouredly.
"And you stopped at Sunnydale. That's…actually that's kind of odd."
"Petrol….Gas?…was cheap and it was getting dark. Some moron tried to grab me when I stopped at a red light. It shook me up so I decided to rest up until morning. That was last Thursday." He looked around. "I took a shine to the place and decided to spend some time here; one beach is much the same as another. Did I say my name is Thomas?" He asked holding out his hand.
Buffy shook his hand. "My name's Buffy," she announced.
Thomas looked puzzled. "Buffy? That's….very American."
"Damn right and proud of it," she said with a wide smile, warming to his company.
"Wow."
"What." Buffy looked concerned.
"That's a beautiful smile."
Buffy felt herself blush. She looked away awkwardly as if she felt unworthy of the compliment. Her attention was then drawn to a couple leaving the club. "Could you excuse me, please?" She addressed Thomas as she dismounted the stool at the same time. "Just for a while. I have something I need to do." She backed away from him awkwardly and then turned to follow the others.
Buffy walked into the alley that ran alongside the Bronze. Her eyes adjusted to the drop in light and she saw a man about to give his partner a kiss she would never forget for the rest of her short life.
"Excuse me!" Buffy shouted.
"Hey!" The girl returned. "Get your own man. I found this one first," she said, her arms wrapped around the vampire's torso.
"I'm saving your life, you stupid bitch."
The man morphed into his natural form and started to walk towards Buffy, his intended victim forgotten.
"Hey!" The girl shouted. She screamed in terror, however, when he turned his head and growled at her. She made a hasty exit, her screams echoing into the blackness as she got beyond the range of the weak lighting.
Buffy closed the gap between her and the vampire. She leapt and kicked him in the chest with one fluid motion. He fell back severely winded; his pride dented and a few ribs broken. Never the less, he resumed his approach with relentlessness only a demon could muster. Buffy picked up a brick she saw lying on the ground. With the skill of pitcher, she tossed it at his head. It made a sickening crunch as it hit nose cartilage. The demon crumpled to its knees, dazed and in agony.
Buffy strode up to him. She gripped his hair and tilted his head back viciously. "You still alive?" She took a stake from the inside pocket of her jacket, momentarily surprised to find she was carrying it, and drove it into his back and through his heart. She stood up straight as dust erupted from where substance had been, and she stared at her feet, lost in the moment. The brief adrenaline rush of the attack had disappeared and only a sense of inevitability remained; this was what she was destined to do, and not even death could release her from the monotony of bringing death to others.
"Nice move with the brick," a voice announced from behind and, for the second time that night, Buffy flinched at the unexpectedness of it. "And you called me vicious."
"Faith. You surprised me; I thought you were still in jail."
"I got out. I thought you were dead."
"I got out."
They stood staring at each other for several seconds. "I need to speak to Giles…" Faith said eventually. "Do you think I should phone ahead…..not being the most wanted person…well actually I probably am most wanted, but you get what I mean." Buffy did not respond. "I guess I could just turn up at his door." Faith looked to the entrance to the club. "Are you going back in? We could chat up some guys and end the night on a high..…in several ways."
Buffy turned her attention to the entrance. She still looked haunted by something and even Faith felt awkward at her silence, and strangely lonely standing in the alley with her enemy.
"Anyway," Faith continued, "I'm going in."
"OK," Buffy said eventually. "I'll probably see you later…." She turned and started to walk away.
"Buffy?" Faith called after her. The blonde slayer turned round. "Welcome back…for what it's worth."
"Thank you."
-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Buffy headed in the direction of the beach. The Moon was full again and hung heavy in the night sky, a silver hole on a black background. It made her think of Oz. She crossed a road, out of the glare of a nearby street light and on to the beach. She watched the waves advance. The water soaked the sand a darker colour then drained away again as it returned to the sea. The memory of her leap into freedom from the wooden tower played again. Buffy shut her eyes and relished in slow motion her descent, floating down. Rather than hit the ground, however, she flew up, arms out stretched and glided through a mosaic of colours; a psychedelic vision, until her mind transported her to the outskirts of a small town. By its appearance, and the surrounding scenery, it had to be from the American North West.
"Hello," said a young boy, who appeared at her side. "Come with me."
"I know you," Buffy hesitated. "You're the Anointed One. The last time I followed you I died."
"That was then," he responded cryptically and took her hand. He led her into the main street.
Buffy stood in the centre of the wide road. The boy had disappeared and she felt isolated but, strangely enough, not lonely. Seeing a slit of light escaping from a nearby door and hearing sounds, she walked over to what appeared to be a bar. Tentatively, Buffy opened the door and entered. The scene inside immediately gave off an aura of warm-hearted humour and friendship; the type of atmosphere a community elicits amongst its members. Buffy felt a sense of euphoria come over her; it seeped into her being from her feet to her face as though she were slowly being immersed into warm water.
"Hi! You're new aren't you?" Came a shout from the bar several feet from her. Buffy looked in the direction the voice had come. "The first drink is always on the house. What'll it be?"
Buffy hesitated briefly before ordering a coke.
"Are you alone?" Came another voice. It was an elderly man who sat opposite a woman, who Buffy assumed, was his wife. "If so, come and sit down with Laura and me. Hey, Jack! Bring the girl's drink
over here." He gestured to the landlord.
Buffy sat down hesitantly. The old woman smiled and she immediately felt at ease. "Thank you," Buffy said to the couple and again to the barman as he placed her drink and a napkin on the table.
"Can I get you anything to eat?"
"I…I don't have any money on me," she responded realising she was dressed in the clothes she had worn when she leapt from the tower.
"Don't worry, dear," the old man across from her added. "Jack, get her a burger and fries and put it on my tab."
"No…please, you don't have to…."
"Nonsense, I can well remember when I first arrived up north, with barely enough to live on, and I had a dog as well to feed. Besides, you look familiar somehow, as though I've seen you before."
"Yes," said his wife. "I was thinking the same. But not recent, I think. Rather, you remind me of someone I used to know years ago."
"That's right," the husband agreed. "A striking resemblance, actually. So, dear…what's your name, by the way?"
"B….Anne," she corrected herself in time.
"Well, Anne, I'm guessing you could do with a job. How about some shop work, huh? Laura and me run the local grocery store and we're getting a bit old for the hours it needs."
The vision changed; her sight momentarily misted over and she found herself standing on the veranda of a cabin, nestled in a small grove of conifers. She looked at her hand and found she was holding a key. She turned round and saw that she was still in the same town, but off to one side of it. A small lake lay several feet from the cabin with a small row-boat tied to a wooden jetty. It felt so familiar, yet not. She turned back to the door and inserted the key. It turned as it should and she entered.
"Surprise!" Shouted several voices at the same time as the light came on.
Buffy stood with her back to the door and was confronted by a host of people looking at her.
"Happy 21st, Anne," the old man welcomed her and led her into the main room which was laid out with food and drink.
"Happy Birthday, Anne," said Jack from behind the kitchen counter, serving drinks to the other guests.
The vision then changed several times. Buffy experienced flashes of laughter, parties, dancing and a whirl of joyous occasions until, finally she found herself walking towards the main street and knew she was heading for work at the local store. She was nearly there when she caught sight of a woman off to one side. A faint sense that she should know her played across Buffy's consciousness. It plagued her so she approached the figure. The lady was old and had long grey hair, but it still had vestiges of the blonde it used to be.
"Hello….I'm sorry to bother you, but do I know you?" Buffy asked. The woman smiled back; it was a friendly yet sad expression and Buffy felt a dreadful sense of foreboding. "Is there anything wrong?"
"No dear, but it's too soon," she responded mysteriously. "You have to go."
"Go…no, I don't have to go anywhere. I…" Buffy felt panic well up inside her.
"You are here too soon. You have to go; your friends are calling you. "
Everything started to fade around Buffy. "No!" She screamed.
"Don't worry," came a faint whisper before everything disappeared.
Buffy found herself back on the beach, the moon shining above her and the waves lapping the shore. Tears welled up and she cried silently into the night.
"Hello again."
Buffy swung round. "Why is everyone creeping up on me!….oh, sorry it's you. I'm sorry," Buffy stopped short when she saw it was Thomas standing before her.
"That's OK. I didn't mean to startle you…you're crying, what's wrong?" He held her shoulders and looked down at her. She broke down and he held her close. "Come on, I'll take you back to my chalet, and no objections," he added.
Whilst at Sunnydale Thomas was staying in a small single storey holiday chalet, one of a few self-contained dwellings comprising a local motel overlooking the beach. It was bordered by a knee-high picket fence with a small gate. Buffy allowed him to lead her into the hallway.
Thomas closed the door. He turned to see Buffy standing still against the wall. Her expression was lost and remote. He faced her again and gently wiped her eyes. She looked up at him, sorrow emanating from her, and he brushed a wayward lock of hair from her face. He risked a kiss and Buffy willingly accepted it and returned the gesture passionately, failing to hide her desperate need for closeness.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-
The Moon shone brighter in the desert; no lights competed with its brilliance. It cast shadows of rocks and the occasional tree that eked out a precarious existence in the searing heat of day and the shivering cold of night. Buffy was kept warm by a large bush that burned biblically before her. She observed her own form lying asleep next to Thomas in its flickering flames. Like the previous vision, Buffy realised she was reliving memories again.
"Hello, Buffy."
She would recognise the voice anywhere. She hadn't heard that accent for a long time. She turned round to face her companion in the night. "It's good to see you again, Kendra."
"I wish I could say the same. I thought you would last longer."
"I saw an opening to get out of the business and jumped at it." Buffy smiled but stopped when her attempt at humour elicited no response. "If you'd been there, you would think that funny."
"You never had the time to teach me a sense of humour."
"If I'd known Drusilla…" Buffy stated, guilt at Kendra's death still present.
"No worries," Kendra smiled this time.
"It is good to see you."
"And you," Kendra reciprocated.
"Now, tell me what I'm doing here. I was enjoying myself in my remote wood cabin."
"To fight for your freedom."
"I'm dead, Kendra. I'm done with the fighting. Just show me the Pearly Gates or whatever, or do I stay here?" She had stretched out her arm to show she meant their present surroundings. "I must say; if I have to stay here it's a shitty reward for dieing to save the world."
"That's the problem. You didn't die, you killed yourself."
"What! I closed the portal and saved the World!"
"The Key was there for that."
"She was my sister!"
"She was a ball of light in the form of non-existent girl."
Buffy thought back to the night on the platform. She remembered seeing her sister, blood pouring through her fingers.
"What do I have to fight for?" She asked, deciding not to argue the point. "Freedom from what?"
"Freedom to choose. Life and the continuance of your duty or death."
"What or who do I have to fight?"
"Your predecessors. You will have to fight the other slayers to earn the right to choose."
The vision fast-forwarded and Buffy now stood on a rocky outcrop overlooking the desert below. Her anger was on the verge of transforming into despair when Kendra approached her again. The cool evening's breeze slightly lifted her hair. She wore it long and without the band holding it in place as she had when she was alive.
"You are still angry," she stated rather than asked.
"Yes, damn it! And I'll stay angry. I've cried rivers in the last five years, enough for two lifetimes, so this desert will have to remain dry on my anger instead."
"Tears and anger, but no laughter?"
"I deserve my death, Kendra," she added, allowing a note of despair to sound. "I've earned it. I can't kill past slayers. I can't kill you."
"You won't kill them and they won't feel any pain. They're already dead. You, however, will feel every blow they inflict on you," she added.
"Suppose I just choose life and resume my duties?"
"You will still have to fight for that choice."
"And, if I let myself be beaten?" She asked, thinking back to a remote North Western town.
"That would be suicide again. Buffy you have to fight. Fight to win, to earn the right to choose your fate. There is no easy way out of being a slayer"
-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Buffy lay awake for several minutes before she lifted her feet over the edge of the bed and got dressed. Thomas stirred but did not wake up. Buffy left him and the chalet without looking back and made her way to the Magic Shop, where she knew the others would be gathering, discussing her behaviour of the night before.
Chapter Three
It was late morning when Buffy arrived at the Magic Shop. The closed sign was displayed, but she walked in anyway.
"You know, Giles you're never going to turn a profit if you keep shutting shop," she uttered as she entered.
"Buffy!" Willow welcomed, relief clearly evident. "We were worried about you."
"So," the Slayer chose to ignore the comment, "it was be raised by you or be raised by someone else."
"Yes, and lawyers at that," Xander added.
Buffy then noticed Quentin sitting at one end of the large table at the back of the shop. He sipped tea
from Giles' best china. She levelled her eyes at him.
"Hello, Buffy," the Watcher said smoothly in a clipped accent more English than Giles' warm dialect. "Some of my colleagues and I were dismayed to hear of your sacrifice."
Buffy did not comment. She turned her attention to Giles for an explanation. "Quentin is here on urgent business," he offered.
"I'm sure. Social calls are not Council traits." Buffy looked around at the Elder. "So what is it this time?"
"There has been a coup within the Watchers' Council," he replied calmly.
"You're kidding," Buffy responded, genuinely amused.
Quentin's only gesture was a slow shutting and opening of his eyes and to take another sip of his tea. Buffy walked to the side and poured herself a cup of coffee. She then sat down at the table, facing the Watcher. She raised the cup to her mouth and blew across the surface of the coffee to cool the liquid. Everyone else remained still and silent as though a two headed play was being acted out before them.
"A coup?" Buffy eventually repeated. "Isn't that a bit self-indulgent? I mean, what with all those demons wandering around." Quentin remained silent. "So, what's the coup about? Did someone insist on muffins with tea instead of crumpets?"
Quentin closed and opened his eyes slowly again and allowed the corner of his mouth to reveal he at least acknowledged the satire. "Nothing so Swiftian," he said.
Buffy looked blank and turned to Giles again for assistance. "Jonathan Swift…..Gulliver's Travels," he offered.
Buffy continued to look blank but then smiled widely. "Don't worry, Giles. I get the reference….I saw it on Hallmark." She returned her attention to Quentin. "Why are you here? I mean, you already knew about the coup and I really don't care."
"There are some amongst the Council who would like to take control and use our influence for…shall I say, other purposes. I'm here to reassure you that we are not all your enemies."
Buffy rubbed her eyes wearily and looked at the man through the resulting blur. "I never said I regarded you as my enemy. Up until now I would have said we were allies. Tell me, why should I feel differently now? Why should I regard you as anything more than an annoyance?"
"You are not stupid, young lady," Quentin admonished her. "The Council already regard you as a wayward warrior. If Faith wasn't so amoral you would have found yourself…...replaced by now."
Giles glared at Quentin and everyone else caught the pause before Quentin had carefully chosen his word. Buffy chose to ignore it.
"Now the break has occurred…" Quentin started to add.
"You're hoping that I'll rally to the cause of the old guard. Well think again, buster, I'm going to be too busy destroying Wolfram and Hart to get involved in your petty politics." Giles looked to Buffy in surprise at the announcement. "If you want to kill each other, that's fine by me."
"It would seem we have a common enemy then," Quentin commented cryptically. Buffy was suitably curious. "The…dissatisfied element of the Council have allied themselves with the legal firm you are set upon assaulting. Indeed," he added, "the spell that was going to be used to raise you was donated by my erstwhile colleagues."
Buffy was genuinely rocked by the revelation; her face registered shock and she stood up, scraping the chair back suddenly, causing it to topple over. She walked over to the shop counter and leant forward on it for support.
"Quentin," Giles spoke up. "Are you sure of this?" The elder Watcher nodded gravely. "That's monstrous. Don't they know what powers Wolfram and Heart wield? They must know that they damn themselves by even contemplating allying their knowledge with them."
"The young are always blind to such risks. The short-term rewards are always more attractive. Buffy," Quentin called to the Slayer. "You must appreciate now why I am here. The rebels must be stopped and their leader, Thomas especially."
Buffy turned round. Her expression had the look of barely suppressed rage. "Nothing has changed; Wolfram and Hart remains my target and anyone who gets in my way will be cut down," she declared with a determination that scared her friends.
"Buffy, the Council must be secured, even Mr Giles sees that."
"I will have my revenge!" She cut him off. "I've been dragged back to a life I had escaped from and into a war. I will choose the battlefield and the opponent, not you or anyone else!"
End of part one