Challenge: Cave Slayers
Title: Welcome To The Jungle (1/5)
Author: Shamrock
Rating: A healthy European 15 for now
5 Thing Minimum: Ask me at part 5
Disclaimer: Joss owns all (and some studios, but mostly Joss)
Thanks: Everyone at Oralfxatns for the support/intimidation. Special thanks to Eden for the super-speedy and infinitely helpful betaing.
--
CHAPTER ONE:
"Buffy," Satsu kept her arms spread wide at waist height, speaking slowly and calmly and trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, "just wait a minute, okay?"
Buffy cocked her head, regarding the other Slayer silently. She paused briefly, balancing on the balls of her feet, and everyone in the hall knew she was ready to bolt. Xander shifted the gun to shoulder height, trying to line up a straight shot, while Kennedy attempted to circle around and block the door. Catching sight of this movement, Buffy growled and launched herself forward. Satsu sprang to meet her, but found her outstretched arm yanked painfully backwards as the Slayer lunged past her and out the door. A tranquiliser dart thudded harmlessly into the thousand year old oak, Xander's shot missing its mark.
Satsu hissed a muffled "shit" as she cradled her arm to her chest, a sentiment Xander readily agreed with. From the other side of the room, Kennedy regarded him wearily. "What now, boss?".
He sighed and lowered the gun. "Assemble search teams. We need to get out there before she has a chance to put some distance between us. Divide the girls into teams of four and spread out over the grounds. Here's hoping she won't want to stray too far from familiar territory. Cover the gardens and the forest around the castle first - report back to me as soon as you spot anything."
Kennedy nodded and headed to the command centre, leaving Xander to tend to Satsu.
"How bad is it?"
"My arm or the fact that Buffy's lost it?"
"Buffy's lost what?" a puzzled Willow asked from the doorway of the castle. "Is it important? Cause she went running past me like her pants were on fire. She didn't even say hi, and I know I've only been gone a couple of days but that's still time enough to miss me, right? It's not like I... hey, what happened to your arm?"
"Hey Will," Xander mustered a small smile for his friend. "Of course, we have totally missed you and your unique rambling style, but we've got a problem."
"So nothing new there." Willow steeled herself and walked over to the other two. "Okay, what've I missed?"
--
Faith dumped her jacket in the hall and headed for the fridge. It had been a fruitless evening of slaying - not a damn vampire in sight - so she'd called it a night, and now all she wanted now was to crack open a cold one and kick back infront of whatever crap she could find on tv. Except the fridge was devoid of foamy beer goodness, and she was sure there'd been at least a couple of cans there before she left this evening.
"Yo G!" she called as she made her way into the living room. "You got any of that JD lying around? Seems I'm all outta-"
She stopped when she saw Giles sitting on the couch, draining the last of a can of Budweiser. "Giles? You're drinking beer? American beer?" She frowned. "You hit your head or somethin?"
"Ah, Faith. You're home earlier than I expected." He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, stifling a belch in the most British way possible.
"Patrol was a no-go. Place is completely dead, and not in a 'fun for Slayers undead' kinda way." She threw herself down in the chair across from him and gestured to the empty cans. "So what's with the guzzling my stash?"
"My apologies, but I found myself rather in need of a drink." He raised his eyes to meet hers. "I received a phonecall from Willow not long after you left."
Faith froze. Sure a call from HQ could mean any number of things, but very few of them were good. Fewer still could drive Giles into the arms of the 'King of Beers'. She hated herself for having to clear her throat before she could speak.
"Buffy?"
He nodded before catching the look on her face and hastening to correct himself. "She's perfectly fine, in a manner of speaking. She hasn't been harmed - at least not physically."
Faith relaxed only slightly, "Any time you wanna cut to the chase here is fine with me, G. What's going on?"
Despite the incredibly sour taste in his mouth, Giles found himself wishing there was more beer. "It would seem that Buffy has become somewhat... devolved, and-"
Faith cut him off with a raised hand. "In American, man."
"She has reverted to an almost primitive state."
Faith still looked blank. "In dumb American?"
"She's acting like a cavewoman."
"Like, 'Me Tarzan, You Jane' kinda cavewoman?"
"Precisely."
"That's..." Faith's brow furrowed for a moment, then a grin crept across her face. "That's freaking hilarious!" The grin became an outright smirk, with a chuckle to follow. "Please tell me Golden Girl's swinging from trees and shit?"
"She may be doing any number of things. She escaped from the castle twenty-four hours ago and no-one has been able to find her since."
"Oh man," Faith wiped a tear away and attempted to bring herself under control. "Priceless. But why'd they call you? Don't the Super Friends got all that fancy uber-slayer mystical technology and whatnot?"
"They do, however none of it seems to be able to track her. According to Willow their locator spells can't pick up her trace. It would seem whatever has affected her has altered the very essence of who she is, making it nearly impossible to find her through magical means. They've had no better luck with any of the military technology they've acquired. That's why," Giles shifted his gaze to an innocuous enough stain on the wallpaper, somewhere over Faith's shoulder, "that's why they've asked that you travel to Scotland to assist them."
Faith's laughter immediately died on her lips.
"How many of those have you had, G? Cause you're starting to talk kind of crazy."
"Willow believes she has a way to track Buffy. She was vague on the details but made it clear that your presence would be required to-"
"No way in hell." The Slayer's tone was low and dangerous. She rose from the chair and stalked to the window where she began to pace furiously. Giles kept his gaze averted as she continued to rant. "You expect me to stroll into a castle full of people who hate my guts just so's I can track down a woman who hates my guts and will probably beat me to death soon as I do find her? The fuck?"
There was silence for a moment before Giles tentatively spoke. "I'm fully aware that relations are somewhat... strained, between us all at the moment." He ignored Faith's snort of indignance at the understatement. "That's why I truly believe that Willow would not have come to us for help if she saw any other way of rectifying the situation."
Faith stopped pacing and looked at him almost pleadingly. "Giles..." her voice was small, but she managed to control the shake in it, "I can't."
He finally met her gaze, and the understanding in his eyes was evident. "You can. I don't think it will be easy for you, and I can't guarantee our reception will be friendly, but you've proved time and again that you're capable of great deeds... even in the face of those from whom you'll receive no thanks for what you do. In these last six months you've helped a dozen girls who would have abused the power and the responsibility that comes with being a Slayer. None of those girls asked for your help, and many of them still resent you for it, but that hasn't stopped you - why?"
Faith folded her arms, hating that he was right. There were more than a couple of Slayerettes out there who'd still happily take a swing at her for interfering with their lives, even if it was to try and steer them off the path of self-destruction that Faith herself was all to familiar with. They might hate her for doing it, but she persevered, and would continue to do so, as long as she thought she was doing right by them in the long run. And that was just the point, wasn't it?
"Because it's the right thing to do." She growled out a frustrated sigh, running her hands through her hair. "And now because you're the King of the Watcher guilt trip I guess we're going to Scotland."
"I've booked us two tickets for a flight in the morning. And I most certainly did not 'guilt trip' you, I merely reminded you of your better qualities and noble nature."
"Don't push it, G."
He responded with a wry smile. "Perhaps I'm just coming to know you too well."
"The fuck you are. If you knew me all that well," Giles had to duck as a cushion came at his head, just short of full Slayer force, "you wouldn't have drank my damn beer."
--
In the cemetary of a small Scottish town, the blonde figure crouched on all fours over the freshly turned earth. She could sense... something. She couldn't name it, but then she couldn't name anything now, and names were no longer important. What lay under the ground was familiar to her, and made her blood run hot. She nosed the soil, seeking the source of the scent, growling low in the back of her throat. She could hear movement, taste death on the air. Suddenly the earth shifted as a hand clawed its way out of the grave. The Slayer sprang backwards, taking cover behind a neighbouring headstone.
The vampire emerged in full game face, shaking dirt from his clothes. Newly-turned as he was, he could feel a presence close by, and every new sense he possessed, every ounce of superhuman strength and power told him to run for his life, or what remained of it. He got no further than the next grave before she was on him like an animal - teeth and fists and fury. The two rolled over the damp grass and came to a stop with her on top. He tried to throw a wild punch in the direction of her face, but she clamped down on his arm with her teeth and bit in until she felt bone crunch. The sound satisfied her, urged her on, and she brought two hands to the terrified vampire's head, twisting until a clean snap broke his spine, and a final flick of her wrists took his head off. She roared her triumph, but it was short-lived as her prey crumbled to dust underneath her. Confused, she raked her hands through the grey silt she knelt in. She was the hunter with no prize, and she felt unfulfilled. With a final cry, of victory and of warning, she leapt to her feet and loped off, pure instinct driving her onwards towards her prey.
The Slayer moved through the night unquestioning - no sense of duty or obligation bound her now, she had no desire to fight the forces of darkness for the sake of a safer world. She wished only to hunt that which she knew to be her enemy... and to kill them.
