THE EMERALD CITY
By: Lisette (lisette@chaletian.co.uk)
Rating: PG-13
Summary: Sequel to "Yellow Brick Road". Faith continues on her path to redemption with a little help from the AI crew, but it looks like Wolfram & Hart have still got plans for her.
Distribution: Go ahead, take it, just let me know.
Feedback: Go on, make me a happy person.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Go figure.
Author's Notes: Okay, so yay sequel. It would probably be a good idea to read "Yellow Brick Road" before reading this, but it's not necessary. Basically, after assorted trials and tribulations, Faith is back in the fold. Also, I'm English, so please excuse any suspect spellings, bizarre phrases, and make allowances for the fact that the only season 3 ep I've seen is "Fredless".
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Chapter One - One of Those Days
It was June in Los Angeles and the sun shone down, warming everything in its path. The muted roar of traffic mixed with children's voices and cicadas chirruping away like demented… well, insects. In the courtyard at the Hyperion Hotel, the staff of Angel Investigations were sprawled about, in a more or less somnolent state. Angel sat in the shaded portico, reading Dr Seuss to Connor. Out in the sun, Cordelia was sunbathing, Gunn was propped up against an artistically positioned sun dial, with Fred aimlessly pulling up grass next to him. Wesley was leaning against one of the portico pillars, reading, and Faith was lying on her stomach, feet kicking in the air, also reading.
"He is so jonesing on the miller's wife," she announced suddenly. Cordelia raised her almost designer shades and peered at her.
"Who?"
"Brother Anselm," replied Wesley absently, flicking over a page in his book. "I once tried to find out who she was, but there aren't many existing records from that period." As Cordelia's interest in the peccadilloes of a ninth century monk was limited, conversation languished, interrupted only by a squeal from Connor following Angel's recitation of "The Cat in the Hat". The afternoon flowed on, until a cautious, "Um, hello?" prompted action. Well, action in the sense that Angel looked up, Faith rolled over, and Wesley closed his book.
"Is anyone there?"
"We'll be right with you," called Wesley, then turned to the others expectantly. He was rewarded with a selection of blank expressions. He rolled his eyes in exasperation, then stood, stretched, and sauntered into the hotel foyer. Ten minutes he was back, crossbow in hand.
"What's up?" demanded Angel, standing hurriedly.
"Her son was taken. Vampire - their leader was sporting green hair and a facial tattoo."
"The nest down on Armiford Boulevard." Gunn stated grimly, also standing.
"Sounds like it. They seem to have developed a taste for kidnap and torture before they feed. I say we deal with them now."
"Let's go." Angel stalked forward, ready to don the (almost literal) cape of the avenger. Unfortunately he didn't get three steps before his foot started to sizzle, and he backed up quickly, a look of intense frustration crossing his face. Wesley grinned sympathetically.
"You'd, er, better stay here. Faith?"
"I'm on it."
"Gunn and I'll come with you. Word is there's about a dozen of them, so we'll have to be careful. The main thing is to get the boy out. Fred, the mother's in the foyer. Can you look after her?" As the girl nodded, he gestured to others. "Okay. Let's go then."
Half an hour later they were outside a rather run down town house. From the cellar, the faint sound of voices could be heard. A plan was swiftly formulated and executed, and before long all three of them were fighting the group of vampires holed away in the cellar. It wasn't really destined to take long. The sight of the little boy, who couldn't have been more than four or five, was more than enough incentive to get the job done, and in the small space the AI team had the advantage. Faith was slaying left and right; Gunn almost as effective. Wesley held his own until, grappling with the green-haired vampire (more courtesy of Clairol than anything mystical), he ended up facing the front wall. A wall that a window, currently covered up with a strangely cosy flowered sheet. A savage blow sent the vamp reeling, and a second later he was dust, as a crossbow bolt caught him dead centre in the chest. Wesley ran for the window, and pulled down the sheet with one sharp tug. The late afternoon sun streamed into the room, and the remaining four vampires screamed in agony as they burst into dancing flames, until they too turned to dust.
"Ashes to ashes, dust to dust," quoted Gunn with a grin as he exchanged a high five with Wesley. "Nice one, bro."
"All in a day's work," replied Wesley, trying, and failing, to repress his smug smile. He turned towards the boy, but Faith was already kneeling before him.
"Hey." The child stood there, unmoving, tear tracks on his cheeks showing where he had cried. Faith reached out, and he stepped back, avoiding her touch.
"Hello, Tommy." Wesley joined her, crouching down to the boy's level. "We're here to take you to your mummy." Still he said nothing, but his chin wobbled, and tears seemed imminent. Wesley was about to try again, when Tommy stepped forward and, with a careful look at both Faith and Wesley, opened his mouth.
"I wanna go home."
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The journey back to the Hyperion did much to make Tommy feel better, and after a rousing game of I Spy with Gunn in the back seat of the truck, he had stopped crying altogether. He ran up the steps to the hotel's main doors, where his mother stood, anxiously checking up and down the street. He clung to her and she hugged back, profuse in her thanks to all three of them. She produced a cheque book, and continued to thank them as she wrote out a cheque, before scooping Tommy into her arms, and heading for her car, leaving Wes, Gunn and Faith standing on the top step. As she drove away, they headed inside, enthusiastically reliving the details of the battle, until they came upon the foyer and their chatter faded away.
On one of the circular seats sat Cordelia, hand pressed to her forehead, a look of pain on her face. Angel stood over her, a glass of water and a bottle of aspirin clutched in his hands. In the background, Fred hovered anxiously. As they came in, Angel looked up, and Faith was surprised at the level of concern he was showing.
"Vision," he stated briefly, and turned his attention back to Cordelia. Wesley approached her softly.
"What did you see, Cordelia?" Cordy looked up, her eyes shadowed with all she had felt.
"I don't know - it was different. There was a girl, I didn't really see her. Blonde hair, in a shop, or something. She was attacked - vampires, I think. But they took something…jewellery, a ring, something, I don't know."
"I thought you were supposed to get visions before things happened, Cordy." At the fresh voice, they all turned. And froze. Then Wesley stepped forwards.
"Hello, Buffy."