Chapter 1
"I didn't... I didn't know. I didn't know," she whispers, her throat dry as Buffy tries to stem the flow.
Faith stares in shock at the scene that she had unwittingly caused. She can vaguely hear the blonde saying something to her but it's like her entire body is frozen. She just stands there, shocked and disbelieving until she hears something, startling her out of her stupor.
"Come on, we gotta go!" she hisses, grabbing Buffy and not so gently yanking her up onto her feet. She pulls her out of the alley and into another one, running from the scene and reminder of her mistake.
From the opposite side of the narrow passageway, from the civilian street, a tall figure steps into the dirty alley. Casually walking up to the dumpster and kneeling down to study the cooling body. "Well… the bosses ain't gonna be happy about this," a husky Boston voice mutters, a hand reaching out to flick the blazer open to find some folded papers.
"What's this?" The figure takes the papers and with a hand moves the blazer back into place. The figure unfolds the papers - straightening up - and looks over the meticulously typed up report. "Well… this puts things into perspective," this person mutters before hearing the wailing sirens of a police car as well as the soft steps underneath it.
As quiet as a mouse the person slips into the shadows just before Faith rounds the corner, her eyes dark and intent on the ground. They dart up - just for a moment - to land on the cold body and she kneels next to him. "What did I do," she whispers, unaware that there is a guest nearby, "I… I didn't…know." She reaches out to the wound, the grievous injury she had inflicted upon him and just as her fingertips brushes against the cold coppery blood she yanks away her hand. Guilt and horror flashes across her face before she wrestles them into submission, her hands shaking slightly as she thinks about the seconds leading up to this. She curls her hands into a fist as she gnaws on her lower lip - suppressing the want to cry out against the world. She hadn't meant to kill someone.
Her hands flexes several times before she nods curtly to herself and she moves to pick up the body. "I'm so sorry," she mutters softly before shutting down every emotion possible as she walks into another alley.
Once her footsteps fade away from the alley the figure steps out of the shadows, dark eyes peering into the direction where Faith had disappeared into. "What a cruel world, neh?" the person mutters before turning upon sensing someone else. A tall blonde man steps into the alley, his nose crinkling at the dirty scene, and walks up to the shadowed figure. "Michael, what are you doing here?" the person greets the blonde.
"The boss wanted you to know that you're to fix this mess," the man states coldly, removing what seems to be a pocket watch from his rather fancy vest, glancing at the face.
"There wouldn't be a mess if you freakin' igits had let me go to her the second-!" the person growls before being punched in the face. The person stumble back, a hand reaching up to rub at the offended jaw.
"Speak like a proper woman!" Michael snaps angrily, eyes glowing red briefly. The person growls angrily at the man, straightening up.
"Grow up, Michael!" the woman snarls, "I don't need you or anyone else telling me what to do!" The man grabs her by the neck and slams her into the building, holding her tightly.
"You will recall that your behavior is the reason why our bosses wouldn't allow you to return to your duties!" He squeezes, feeling the growl in her throat, for a second before releasing her. "You best learn to watch your steps or else you will be stripped of everything and retired."
In the dim light from the streets Michael can see that her entire body is tense and her face is especially stony before he gets a curt nod from her. Once that has been established he hands her a folder and straightens his blazer. "This is your last chance, one wrong move and there's a good chance they'll yank you," he tells her, his voice softer. She looks up from where she had been staring and nods in acknowledgement of his words. "Good luck." With that he walks away, disappearing in a flash of light.
She straightens her clothes and brushes her hair back into place before walking out of the alley. "May as well start now," she mutters as she checks the folder.
Buffy paces back and forth, unsure of what to do, how to deal with the events of the last twenty-four hours. Things had seemed so normal when she woke up that morning. How could it deteriorate so much? She sighs and tangles her hands into her hair, desperately trying to sort her thoughts.
"Penny for yer thoughts?" she hears a husky voice ask and she turns to find someone standing by the bench she just passed. She squint her eyes at the person and finds that it's a woman - a dark chestnut haired woman, her hair cropped into short layers that easily gives her a butch appearance. A pair of dark leather pants and a tight maroon red wife beater shirt tucked into the pants - both of which reminds her greatly of Faith, a thought she is surprised by.
"Who are you?"
The brunette shrugs, "A friend if you want one." The brunette moves to sit on the bench, relaxed in the dead of night. Buffy - suspicious of the fact that this person seems to be uncaring of the fact - moves closer and the woman looks at her. "I'm sure that you'd already know if I'm a vampire or not," the woman says to her, startling the blonde Slayer.
"How did you -," Buffy starts.
"I know a lot of things, Buffy Anne Summers," the brunette answers, producing a rather thick folder and opening it. "Born in 1981, you lived a rather normal life until your eighth year where you witnessed your cousin's death at the hands of a demon portraying himself as a doctor - leaving you with a phobia against hospitals. At the age of fifteen you received the Calling and were found by a Watcher named Merrick Jamison-Smythe. Who later commits suicide to prevent a vampire, Lothos, from turning and using him against you - loyal guy you got there. After defeating Lothos you were committed to an insane asylum by your parents when you told them about what happened at Hemery High and about being a Slayer - released several weeks later under the belief that you regained your sanity." The woman looks up and finds Buffy staring at her in shock. "Shall I go on?" Buffy shakes her head and sits down heavily next to the brunette.
"How did you…"
"I'm not yer average person, Buffy," the brunette answers, flipping a few pages. "Great job facing yer fears with the Master," the woman comments as she pauses briefly on a page, "I'm only sorry that ya died, as temporary as that was."
"Who gave you this?" Buffy asks, snatching the file away only to discover that the papers are blank. "What in the-," she starts.
"It's unreadable to anyone who isn't like me," the woman explains, touching a page. Before Buffy's very eyes words appear in a flowing style that almost reminds her of the fictional language by Elves. Now that she could see the words she could understand what the woman means - to her it's pure gibberish. Laughing softly the brunette takes the file back and closes it.
"Now, I believe that's enough from memory lane," the brunette says. Buffy turns so that she's facing the woman and notices that she is contemplating something. "Just a few hours ago you and Faith were…" she pauses as she considers the right word for this. But it wasn't necessary for Buffy knew exactly what she's talking about.
"It was an accident, I swear!" she cries, jumping away from the bench and renewing her pacing.
"Buffy, I'm not blamin' ya for somethin' ya had no control over. It was in the heat of the moment," the brunette smooth the blonde, remaining seated and watching the Slayer absorb her words. "Slayers with more trainin' than ya have made the same mistake as ya," she continues before sighing. "My main concern is for Faith," she confesses.
"Why, I mean she has proven that she can handle anything," Buffy immediately regrets her words when the brunette glares at her sharply.
"Buffy, you both killed a man," the brunette snaps at her. "No matter what anyone says no one is ever okay with it." The brunette sighs and rubs her neck. "Look, can you just watch after her for now? She has suffered so much lately that it wouldn't take much for her to crack wide open." The woman stands up and starts to leave, only to stop by a quite belated question.
"What's your name?" The brunette turns around and in the soft glow of the street light behind her she seemed a bit otherworldly to Buffy.
"My name is too dangerous to tell you right now, Buffy Anne Summers. But should you ever need me go to the highest point in this town and I'll be there," the woman tells her, turning partly at this point.
"No matter the time of day?" she asks the woman.
"No matter the second, minute, hour, or day," she confirms before disappearing into the shadows.
Faith sits in the corner of her motel room, fingering the bloody white shirt as she contemplates the last twenty-four hours. Where did it all go wrong? How? Why? Questions she didn't have answers to. Answers she desperately wishes she has. She balls up the shirt and enters the bathroom, turning the water on and grabbing the detergent to start cleaning off the blood. She scrubs as hard as she can before screaming in frustration and almost throwing her fist at the drywall, just barely stopping herself.
She opens her fist and presses her palm against the wall, closing her eyes as she lets her memories come to her.
Flashback
"FAITH, RUN!" a frantic husky voice shouts at her, a heavy hand pushing at her back - encouraging her to move. Twice she stumbles and twice her best friend grabs her arm and pulls her back onto her feet.
Behind them a car backfires and next to her the fitting form of her best friend jerks forward, almost sending her crashing down. "Keep running!" the brunette urges her, pushing her towards the well-lit street, turning slightly and revealing a black wetness clinging to the teenager's back.
"Al!"
"Keep running Faith!" the brunette snaps before lunging for the gruff looking man that had been chasing them with a small gun and an ancient knife. She runs to the exit and turns back when she hears another backfire and sees her best friend falling with the man on top, the dull knife flashing dimly in the light before it is buried in her friend's chest.
"ALEX!"
End Flashback
She jerks out of her memory at a sound, her entire body tense as she turns towards the motel door. Panic chills her bones until she hears a familiar voice on the other side saying, "Faith, it's me." Leaving the shirt in the sink she goes to the door, opening it to reveal the blonde Slayer. She glances briefly into Buffy's eyes before turning away. "Hey," the blonde greets.
"Hey." She walks back to the bathroom, listening to Buffy close the door behind her and follows along, and returned to cleaning the shirt.
"So, I, uh…" Faith glances at Buffy to find her wringing her hands as she tries to think. "How are you doing?" the blonde Slayer finally asks.
"Five by five," Faith mutters, still scrubbing, "You know me."
"Yeah. I know you think you can handle this. And you're used to being on your own. You got your tough loner act down pretty well." Buffy watches Faith as she roughly handles the shirt she's trying to clean. "And maybe it's not an act, but right now, we need each other. We need to talk about what we're going to do."
The dark Slayer balls the shirt up in her fist before exhaling harshly through her nose. "There's nothing to talk about. I was doing my job."
"Being a Slayer is not the same as being a killer." Faith spreads the shirt out to finish scrubbing the material. "Faith, please don't shut me out here. Look, sooner or later, we're both going to have to deal." The dark Slayer yanks the sink plug and turns the faucets on full, allowing the water to run over the shirt before wringing it out.
"Wrong, B, you and I don't have to deal with nuthin'."
"I can help you."
Faith turns to her, the shirt in her fist, "I don't need it." She brushes past Buffy and yanks open a drawer to hang the shirt from.
"Yeah, well you're wrong, Faith. You can shut off all the emotions you want, but there's still the fact that sooner or later they will find a body," Buffy points out and this catches the brunette's attention.
"Okay, this is the last time we're havin' this conversation, and we're not even havin' it now, ya understand me?" Faith points a finger in Buffy's face. "There is no body. I took it, weighted it, and dumped it in a river. The body does not exist."
Buffy is flabbergasted by what Faith just said. "Getting rid of the evidence doesn't make the problem go away!"
"It does for me." The brunette turns away as a memory pops up unbidden by the whole thing and her hand wraps around the edge of the dresser.
"It does for me."
Buffy covers her mouth with a hand, her eyes extremely worried. "Faith… you don't get it… We killed a man."
Faith turns to her, catching that. "No, Buffy, you did nothing. You had no part in this!" Her face becomes stony for a moment. "You didn't plunge that stake into his heart…" She shakes her head. "As far as I'm concern, this problem is gone. The fact that I killed a man, well I don't care!"
Buffy's mouth open and shut several times before she shakes her head, leaving the motel room.
Buffy dusts off her hands, glad to have scaled the side of the building without any mishaps, and find a pretty sight waiting for her. "How is it I never thought to do this before?" she asks out loud in awe, staring at the darkness that has fallen over Sunnydale. The lights within the houses are causing the black landscape to twinkle - almost as if the earth doesn't exist and the sky just keeps going and going.
"Not many people take the time to enjoy the little things," she hears a husky voice comment and she turns to find the brunette from the previous night perched high on the billboard of the mayor. "Hello Buffy," the woman greets her.
"Hey," she returns. She looks for an easy way to reach the brunette and finds nothing that suggests a way. "How did you get up there?"
The brunette chuckles darkly for a moment. "That's another thing I can't tell ya."
"Too dangerous…?"
"Something of the like," the brunette answers before jumping down to face Buffy. "So, what happened this mornin'?"
"You already know about that?" The woman sighs and crosses her arms, waiting for Buffy to answer her question. Upon seeing the expression on the brunette's face Buffy clears her throat. "Well, I went to the motel where Faith's been staying since she came into town," she notes the dark expression on the woman's face and moves away slightly, "I wanted to talk about what happened last night. She really didn't let me say much and well…"
"She pushed you away," the brunette concludes for the Slayer.
"Yes…"
The woman leans against the railing that keeps the workers from plunging to their deaths as they put up the next image for the billboards. "Faith has never been one for trustin' people. I'm afraid it got worse after her tenth birthday." The brunette looks over the town, her dark eyes seemingly looking for something. "She developed a habit of pushin' people away, especially those who are tryin' to reach out to her," she looks at Buffy, "She never learned how to distinguish a person from others."
"… She trusted that woman, the-," Buffy starts to say.
"The fired Watcher, rather infamous for her abuse of the Dark Arts," the woman interrupts with a dark expression on her face, "Yes, she took advantage of Faith's want to be accepted by someone. Somethin' that could have been avoided had a certain Slayer made an effort." Buffy winces as she caught the point that the older woman was making.
"I failed… big time."
"Indeed ya did," the woman mutters softly before removing an ancient ceremonial knife, the lights behind them glinting off the dull blade. Buffy notices the blade but after eyeing the woman for a moment, makes no move to comment or take it. "Listen to me now, Buffy. The watcher sent by the Council, I don't trust him. Not one little bit. He's too new to the scene; he will go by the textbook." She turns to face Buffy. "The second he finds out about the accident and the fact that she covered it up he will call for backup from the Council."
Buffy frowns and starts to say something but is stopped by a raised hand. "Buffy, ya don't see the things I do. Tell me, what do ya think Faith will do when ya try to convince her to tell Giles what happened." Buffy struggles to find an answer but knows that Faith will refuse to tell the watcher. "Tell me, what do ya think she will do when she thinks that she's in danger? What do ya think she's gonna to do when that idiot watcher from the Council do somethin' and try to get her sent to England?" A subtle growl has begun to escalate and Buffy is stunned to realize that it's coming from the woman before her.
It takes a minute to shake off that strange feeling. "Okay, so…" Buffy rubs her face as she tries to think. "Wesley can't find out about what happen or else everything is going to go to hell," she mutters. "At the same time I need to get her to talk to Giles."
"Ya can't tell him by yerself. Or else she will think yer betrayin' her." Buffy looks up, dismayed that she can't do that. "Ya understand why?" the brunette asks the blonde and it takes her a minute to calm herself and nod her head.
"It all boils down to trust…" she mutters softly.
"That it does… I'd help, Buffy, but… it's not time yet." Buffy looks puzzled at the older woman and she notes it. "I'm bound by certain rules, Buffy. I'm responsible for her," Buffy is still puzzled by what the woman is saying, "But the rules surroundin' me is… well, it's pretty much impossible for me to try and help her."
"You really care for her?"
A soft huff of laughter leaves the mysterious older woman. "I died for her," the woman confesses before turning to leave. "Ya best get home, Buffy. Yer ma may be aware of the fact that yer a Slayer now but that doesn't mean ya should keep her up at all hours." Buffy nods her head and starts to leave only to stop when she hears a soft whisper. "Best enjoy yer days with yer ma. Nevah know when she's gonna be taken by Death." A chill goes through her when she hears that and she scrambles down the building, anxious to get away and go find her mother.
The woman remains on the roof of the building, overlooking the town. "Faith… I'm sorry," the brunette mutters before disappearing into the shadows.