Los Angeles, California
Four people sat at a table, in an office located in central Los Angeles. The office was small, consisting of a desk, two file cabinets, a coffee machine and a potted plant. There was also a circular table, where the four people currently sat, playing poker. On the door was mounted a small bronze plaque with the words ' Doyle Investigations' embossed on it.
" Oh, c'mon! You've gotta be cheating!" one man said. He looked older than the rest, early thirties to their early twenties. He had short black hair, and spoke in an Irish accent. He had a small frame, though unnaturally strong muscles lay hidden beneath his long sleeved shirt.
" Doyle's right. No one can win like that without cheating," a second man said. He had large brown eyes and longish black hair. He grinned at his friend, a lopsided smile that women found so endearing.
" You questioning my integrity, Harris?" his friend retorted, eyes blazing with an inner fire. She was a busty, dark-haired girl, with seemingly frail limbs and features. Her general attitude spoke of a confidence that came of rough living, however, and also of an ability that seemed to be hidden.
" I think he's questioning your playing skills, girl. He don't believe that you can legitimately win that much money," the last member of the group added. He was a young bald-headed African-American, and to the outsider, he looked out of place at the table. But he fitted right in, without any hint of discomfort whatsoever. This was attributed to his long time association to the other three, and the fact that they lived in the same building for nearly three years.
" Oh yeah?" the girl readily accepted the challenge and threw her cards on the table. She rolled up the short sleeves of her T-shirt and glared defiantly at the three men. " Name your stakes, Xander. I can still wipe you clean even if I don't cheat,"
" So you were cheating before, is that what you're saying, Faith?" Xander replied glibly. Faith smirked and raised one eyebrow mockingly.
" Yeah, that's exactly what I'm sayin'. You gonna make something of it?"
Staring straight into Faith's eyes, Xander grinned maliciously. " Gunn, Doyle, why don't we show her exactly what we're gonna do?"
Suddenly, Faith lost her cockiness and looked nervously at the three men sitting before her. " Guys, what are you doing?" she asked, shrinking into her seat when she didn't get an answer.
She didn't have time to repeat herself, as the three men launched themselves simultaneously at the girl, fingers flexed, arms outstretched towards her unprotected belly. They fell to the floor in an ungraceful heap, knocking over the table and spraying cards, chips and beer into the air. Faith was pinned under the three men, all bigger than her. They poked at her sides, tickling her belly and caused even more of a mess by their wild thrashing. Faith was laughing uproariously, trying to wrestle the men off and cover her sides at the same time. Although Faith was smaller than them, it didn't mean that she was weaker. Quite the contrary, in fact.
She flung out her arm and flung Xander, who had been clinging on to the limb desperately, in the process. He flew into the wall with a resounding crash. With one arm now free, Faith used it to club Doyle on the head, and was thrown to the side. Gunn, realizing that he was fighting a losing battle, tried to scramble off her, but in one fluid motion, he found himself on his back, pinned by a grinning Faith, her faced flushed in exertion.
Doyle cried out, clutching his head in agony. " Jeez, Doyle, I didn't hit you that hard," Faith protested, affecting a tone of mild annoyance. Her face however, showed an uncharacteristic concern and fear, for she was always afraid of injuring one of her friends. The damage she was capable of dealing might be irreversible, as she had bore witness to, several years ago.
Xander was already at the man's side, but jerked his hands away when sharp blue spikes erupted from his face and hands, testament to Doyle's demon side. " Gunn, painkiller, Faith, pillow," he barked out, sending the two mentioned scurrying for the said items. Gunn ran to the fridge and took out a bottle of malt whiskey and three aspirin. Faith went to the desk and retrieved the small white pillow that lay in the drawer.
They were back in two seconds, just as Doyle recovered from the throes of his vision. " Oh, God, that was bloody awful," he muttered, his Irish brogue coming out in full. The spikes on his head, retracted and disappeared without a trace. Gunn handed him the prepared medication, while Faith laid the pillow on the floor. Doyle accepted the glass of whiskey with a grunt of gratitude and gulped it all down in one swallow. Immediately after, he fell back, his head landing right on the pillow.
" What did you see?" Xander asked. Doyle grimaced, and began rubbing his temple. Faith slapped his hand away and gently massaged his aching head, showing a tender affection for the man. It was a side of her that rarely showed, but was significant when it did.
" You' re not gonna like this, mate," Doyle said. The fact that he was somewhat relaxed told them that the vision wasn't too urgent. The tension in the air was still palpable, though.
" When have we ever liked anything you had to say?" Gunn retorted, saying the words that were on everyone's lips. He just managed to say it faster.
Doyle flipped him a casual middle finger, but paid him little attention. " We' re gonna have to go to Sunnydale,"
++++++
Sunnydale, California. The Magic Box
" Okay, here goes nothing," said Willow Rosenberg. Tara and Buffy nodded, backing away slightly. Willow stood in front of a small pot that lay on a table, sprinkling a small amount of silvery powder into it. Almost instantaneously, smoke began to curl upwards from the pot, making its way slowly to the ceiling. Willow began to chant in Latin, slowly and powerfully, eyes closed in concentration.
She ended with a three syllable word, said in a sharp voice and leaned back, obviously expecting something to happen. Nothing did. " You're right, that was nothing," Buffy noted. She leaned forward precariously, peeking into the pot. The ingredients lay still and unchanged.
Willow pouted and frowned at the same time, picking up a thick, leather-bound book and began flipping through it. " That can't be. I did everything right. Didn't I?"
She looked up plaintively at Tara, who could only offer her a sympathetic look. " Well, you can always try again,"
" Try what again?" a British accented voice interrupted them. Willow slammed the book shut and cast an innocent look at Buffy's Watcher. Tara whirled around and tried her best to block Giles' view of the items on the table.
" Oh, nothing. Just playing around,"
Giles was unconvinced, but he gave them nothing more than a reprimanding look. " If you're thinking of casting that light spell again, don't. We had enough trouble with that troll you set free,"
" But Giles, that was an accident!" Willow protested. " I had no idea that the troll was in that crystal!"
" Well we don't want anymore accidents either, do we? And you should have asked me before you used that crystal," Giles replied, taking the book from Willow's hands and returning it to its proper place on the shelf. Willow grimaced but tactfully kept silent. Tara gave her another sympathetic look.
" Buffy, how went patrol last night?"
Her Watcher's voice snapped her out of her reverie and Buffy hastily replaced the bag of silvery powder on the table. " Well, same old, same old. Nothing new really, though I think the vamps last night were a little more organized,"
" How so?"
" Well, they had tactics for one, and one group even tried to flank us. I'd better go ask Spike about it, he might have heard something," Buffy replied offhandedly. Giles cast her a concerned look, but noticed that she wasn't even looking in his direction.
" Please be careful around him. Chip or no chip, I still don't trust him very much,"
" Giles, you watch Passions with him everyday," Buffy said, with an impish little grin. Her Watcher looked absolutely mortified.
" Only when I have nothing to do. And I have plenty of activities to take up my spare time without having to resort to that," he replied indignantly. " Besides, why don't you ask Riley? Hasn't he heard anything? Better yet, why don't you let him talk to Spike?"
Buffy sighed exasperatedly. " Giles, I can handle myself, thank you very much. Anyway, Spike won't tell Riley anything. He's still sore about the Initiative and the chip,"
" Yes, I know, he told-" Giles cut off as he realized his slip. Graciously, no one took advantage of it.
" I don't understand why you're so adamant about Buffy not seeing Spike when you see him everyday," Willow mused. Giles gave her a long, steady look, but she only looked away innocently.
" He's a bad influence on her,"
" Spike? He can't be anymore of a bad influence on Buffy than Riley is," Willow pointed out. She then ignored the twin glares Buffy and Giles shot her.
" Willow, be quiet," Buffy commanded. " Anyway, I should go see Spike now, before Passions starts and he stops paying attention to anything else,"
" Be careful," Giles called out, and got an incredulous snort as a reply.
++++++
The door to the crypt flew open and collided with the wall with a loud bang. " Oh, bloody hell, Slayer, haven't you ever heard of knocking?"
Spike would recognize that form of entry anytime. It simply reeked of the Slayer's bitchiness and queen of the universe syndrome. He had no time to continue his protests as she suddenly slammed him into a pillar, hand gripping his throat painfully.
" No time for pleasantries, Spike," she said, rather imperiously. " Have you heard anything of a new master or something along those lines?"
Spike tried his best to snort light-heartedly, impeded by her hand wrapped around his neck. " Please, Slayer. No one wants to talk to a chipped, fangless, useless vampire these days. It's considered embarrassing, y'know?"
" Please, Spike, spare me," Buffy let him go and he fell to the floor in a heap. " You haven't heard anything?"
" Only some stuff about a new master vamp. That's about all, I guess. Even the bartenders don't want to talk to me anymore,"
" Poor Spike," Buffy said, without any hint of sympathy whatsoever. Then, she turned on her heel and walked out.
" Bitch,"
++++++
" I can't believe we're actually doing this," Xander muttered.
" How do you think I feel?" Faith shot back, as irritated as he was. Currently, the four of them were in Doyle's car, driving for Sunnydale. As neither of them had ever done so before, and Doyle was hopelessly inept at pathfinding, they were lost.
" Hey, maybe we should buy a roadmap or somethin'," Gunn suggested. " Anything would be better than this," he glanced at a road sign as they sped past, craning his neck out the window in an attempt to make out the words. " Doyle, I think you just missed the exit,"
The Irish half-demon muttered something under his breath, possibly having to do with certain parts of Gunn's anatomy. Meanwhile, Faith and Xander sat sullenly in the back, wondering about the sick and twisted humor of the Powers That Be.
An hour later, Gunn slid into his seat, a crisp, brand new map in his hands. " Lets get rollin'," he exclaimed excitedly, unfolding the map and spreading it out on the dashboard.
" What's he so happy about?" Faith asked rhetorically, in an obviously bad mood.
" Man, the vibes back there are so bad, we might hit an earthquake," Gunn whispered to Doyle.
" I heard that,"
" Aren't you gonna do something to prove me wrong, like you always do with everything else?" Gunn glanced in the mirror and saw Faith sticking her tongue out at him. Xander straightened suddenly and spoke.
" You're right. We're not gonna do our job properly if we don't lighten up. The best we can do is treat it as a job and try to do as little socializing as possible,"
" That's probably the best thing to come out of your mouth today, Harris. Glad to see you're not so Mr. Doomsday anymore," Gunn replied.
" So it's get some and get gone, huh?" Doyle put in, making a hard right and making the passengers jerk to the right. Xander, who was sitting by the window, had his face crushed onto the Plexiglas surface.
" If we ever get there," Faith muttered. Then Doyle turned left sharply, causing them to fly to their left.
++++++
Detroit, Michigan
In a cheap motel room, two figures lie in a bed, wrapped in rumpled white sheets. The sweat that coats their bodies and the telling stains on the bedspread is evidence enough of their earlier activities. The man lies on his side, arm flung over the sleeping woman's body. The woman was hardly more than a teenage girl, but the man wasn't about to argue that fact.
The tranquil setting of the room was burst when the man's eyes flew open and he bolted into a sitting position, abruptly and completely awake. Barely a second later, the phone rang. A second after, the shrill ringing of the phone was cut off as the man picked it up.
" Tristan Cole,"
The man sat up, fully awake at the mere whisper of the voice that was so familiar to him. He glanced at the girl, and saw her still in a deep sleep. Just to be on the safe side, he went to the bathroom, closing the door before answering.
" You. What do you want?" his voice, as always, was low and quiet, though there was a note of tension in it now.
" Tristan, Tristan. Is that how you treat old friends? I thought you were brought up better," the amusement in the caller's voice was sardonic.
" Hello, Faustus," he said, as dryly as possible. " To what do I owe this pleasure?"
Faustus chuckled at the sarcasm. He so loved Tristan's feistiness, in fact, it was one of the things that Faustus truly admired about him. Besides the fact that he was a cold-blooded killer who killed without mercy or compunction.
" I would like you to recall a time, Tristan, a time when a promise was made, from one friend to another. Do you remember that promise, Tristan?"
" Yeah. What about it?" The nonchalance in his voice was forced.
" Do you remember who made it?"
"… I did,"
Faustus paused to let that sink in. He had such a flair for the dramatics. " Well, Tristan, I would like you to honor that promise. I need you in Sunnydale, California. You do know where that is, don't you?"
" The Hellmouth," Tristan replied, in a voice that was hardly a whisper.
" You know what I will do there, don't you?"
Tristan could see Faustus smiling at the other end of the line. He nodded, absently noting that the man wouldn't be able to see him. " Yes,"
" Good. I expect you here by tomorrow night,"
There was a click and the blaring of the dial tone filled his ears. Tristan, moving somewhat woodenly, replaced the phone in its cradle and made his way to the bed. He pulled on his clothes slowly, his gaze very far away. He packs his few belongings into a large black carryall, which held more than clothes. With barely a glance at the girl sleeping on the bed, he slipped out the door and disappeared into the night.
++++++
San Francisco
Dannielle Hayle walked as briskly as she could to the bus station, making a beeline for the ticket counter. She definitely didn't like the stares the men in the corner were giving her, and she didn't want to add assault and battery to her already long list of petty felonies.
The bus station was pretty dark and empty, being near midnight. Dannielle wrapped her blue denim jacket tighter around herself, trying to keep out the sudden chill that permeated her bones. She knew there were men after her, one of the reasons why she was here and heading for New Orleans. They had already tried to get her twice and she could only tell two things for certain.
One, they had vampires, and possibly demons, among their ranks.
Two, they wanted her alive, which was as comforting as it was scary.
She passed between two buses, the quickest path she could find. It wouldn't be the safest as the shadows gave vampires plenty of hiding space. The buses were excellent perches for an aerial ambush and she was out of sight from both the ticket counter, and the men at the corner.
Why was she walking here again?
She had no time to finish that thought, or even curse herself as a heavy object landed on her back, forcing her to the ground. It had arms and legs and was unnaturally cold, and currently, those cold arms and legs were pinning her to the floor. She bucked wildly, like an untamed horse and the vampire was suddenly thrown off her. In a flash, Dannielle was on her feet and face to face with two vampires. She also knew that there were two more behind her, she could feel it with certainty.
The space they were in was wide enough for two vamps to stand side by side, but not that wide for fancy maneuvers. A sword would be handy right now, she thought ruefully. Two even better.
The vamps rushed her as one. Dannielle moved on instinct, leaping upwards as high as she could, which was pretty high, and tucking her legs up to her chest. The vamps stopped just in time to prevent from clashing into each other, but by the time they recovered, Dannielle was already behind them. She launched a snap kick to the nearest vampire head and got a satisfying crunch as her heavy skate shoes connected with thick skull. She dropped her bag to the floor and readied herself with a stake in each hand.
The vamps hesitated, which was all the opening Dannielle needed. She launched herself forward, sharp end of the stakes first. One vamp was unfortunate enough to get dusted, the other was merely bowled over into its companions. Dannielle rolled to her feet and barely got her arms up in time to block a kick. She let one of the stakes go, grabbed the foot that was hanging in the air enticingly in front of her face and threw it to the right as hard as she could.
It was pretty hard, as the vampire actually spun in one complete circle before falling onto her stake. Two down, two to go.
She leaped forward again, giving the vampires no respite or chance to press their advantage of numbers. She slashed one vamp in the face, then kicked the other in the gut. The vampire that got kicked doubled over and an axe kick to the back of its head soon followed. She pivoted on her feet and backhanded the other vamp in the face again, smashing its nose with her knuckles. The other vamp was getting to its feet, so she kicked it in the face. She lunged forward and impaled the standing vampire in the heart, turning it into so much dust. The last one got another mouthful of shoe before being put out of its misery.
Dannielle brushed the dust off her jacket and pants and picked up her bag. Maybe she should go to Sunnydale, like Patty told her to. It was nearer than New Orleans at any rate. If the Cashier behind the ticket counter was wondering about her flushed face and slightly hard breathing, she smartly kept it to herself.
" One-way to Sunnydale, please,"
++++++
In a small clearing, in another dimension altogether, a young man moved. He was dressed strangely- tight, black jumpsuit that hugged each taut muscle in his whipcord lean frame. He wore heavy black boots and an old grey sweatshirt that had the sleeves and the hem torn off. His arms were left bare but he sported fingerless leather gloves on his hands. A white headband encircled his head, and his brown hair was drawn up into a messy array of spikes. His eyes were closed, his right hand gripping onto the hilt of a heavy longsword.
It had a straight, narrow blade, three feet long. Its hilt was wrapped in black wire and the crosspiece was crafted into a shape of a teardrop, made from some black metal. At the very center of the tear, on both sides, lay a small faceted gem- lapis lazuli. It caught light as the sword moved, reflecting it onto the man's face. And the sword moved, carving intricate, invisible patterns in the air, like an extension of his arm. He moved fluidly, smoothly, each muscle relaxing and tensing in perfect harmony. He held the sword in one hand, then two, then switched hands. His grace, to the onlooker, would be unnatural, like flowing liquid.
/Kaine/
The man's eyes snapped open, revealing steel grey orbs that gleamed with an inner fire.
/Soveliss?/
/You are needed/
The man stopped as his sword spoke into his mind. He stood still to regain his breath and nodded, to no one in particular.
/Where to?/
As if in reply, the blade of Kaine's sword and the gems began to glow a bright blue. The light grew until Kaine was enveloped in it. He didn't flinch, or close his eyes, despite the fact that the glow was bright enough to blind anyone. Then, in front of him, a small circle of blue appeared, growing ever larger. It emitted a blue light of its own, and the light simply got brighter as the circle grew. When it had reached a height of eight feet, it stopped, pulsing brightly.
Kaine's lean, handsome features were set in grim determination. This was his job, it was what he lived for. Taking a single deep breath, he plunged into the pool of light.
++++++
Buffy whistled a tune as she walked through the cemetery, using it as a shortcut as much as she was patrolling. She was heading over to the Bronze to meet Riley before they went on patrol together, and it didn't hurt to warm up a bit first.
She hadn't thought that Spike would be able to give her any 411 on the vampires, so she wasn't all that disappointed. She'd find out more sooner or later. Maybe facing apocalypse after apocalypse for six years running had made her a little blasé. But maybe she was just being optimistic. No point in being all gloomy every time an apocalypse came about. It would only impair her abilities.
An overwhelming presence assaulted her senses and she came to a halt in the middle of the cemetery. She hadn't felt anything like this before, it filled up all her senses so completely, with power and domineering will, that she felt like she was in a vacuum. A flick of her wrist and a dagger slipped from her jacket sleeve into her hand. Stakes would do no good against something this big. She took a careful step forward, wondering if the thing had already noticed her. If not, she didn't want it to. If it had, she didn't want to walk blindly into an ambush.
She had no more time to contemplate strategies as a huge, hulking figure came out from the dark sky. It momentarily blocked the moon and Buffy found herself unable to see anything but blackness. She leapt back on instinct, to get some space between her and her opponent and to get a better view of what it was.
She regretted taking a look as soon as she did. It was vaguely humanoid, with brown leathery skin. The hide glistened wetly, as if it was secreting a slime or mucus from its pores. It was hunched and it had long, apelike arms. Its backbone jutted out from its back, and she saw a huge brain underneath the dense bone. Its maw was full of gnashing teeth and its eyes were remarkably strange.
It was big and oval-shaped, white irises and blue-green pupils, set at the sides of the elongated head. It was the pupils that caught her attention. Each looked as if it had been split into two, and taken up residence at opposing ends of the eye. It stared at her, unblinking, the eye darting back and forth as if unable to focus on her. Then it attacked.
Taken up by the amazing sight of the beast, Buffy was caught completely off-guard. She only managed to get up one arm in time to block its long arm, though she was still knocked off her feet and sent flying. It was strong, stronger than the troll she fought last week. She rolled to her feet, dagger positioned cross-body to slash unexpectedly or block another blow.
Again, it was the latter. The beast moved faster than she thought anything could move. One instant it was ten feet away, the next it was on her and slapping the dagger out of her hand. Buffy felt her wrist being wrenched painfully and then her hand went numb. Risking a glance at it, she saw that her palm had three gaping wounds in it, bleeding copiously. She clenched the injured fist and took a short hop back.
No sooner had she righted herself did she have to duck frantically to avoid from getting her head torn off her shoulders. She backflipped at its other arm swung low for her legs, looking to trip her. The thing was smart, not just a drooling monster with no tactical knowledge. The existence of the partially exposed brain was proof of that, and the intelligent glimmer in its eye as it looked at her. There was a brief respite, taking the briefest of moments, as both combatants studied each other and found the other worthy opponents. Buffy wondered if this was to be her last fight, then shoved the thought out of her head. No time for negativity now, B, concentrate.
She knew that she was close to the cemetery exit. If she could survive that far, she could get to the buildings across the road and to safety. Ducking and dodging, backpedaling all the way, Buffy could already here the sounds of the street behind her. She gave ground freely, retreating but never taking her eyes off her opponent. Then, of all the things that could have happened, Buffy's heel caught on an exposed tree root and she was stumbling back, having lost her balance completely. The beast was on her in an instant, slashing its claws at her unprotected belly and drawing four ragged lines on her shirt and flesh.
Buffy was on her back, looking up at the beast as it stood over her. She was getting weak, the wounds it gave her were shallow but she was bleeding hard. To her astonishment, the thing actually spoke.
" You have been a worthy opponent, Slayer. You shall receive a special place amongst my trophies,"
She felt her mind being pulled away, her thought patterns began to spin out of her control. It was stealing her mind! The very essence of a human, what made them better that the animals in the wild, their intelligence and independence of thought, was being taken from her. Buffy fought as hard as she could and her resolve was bolstered when she felt a measure of control returning to her. Strengthening her mental barriers, she forced the beast out of her head.
It yelled a guttural yell of anger and dove into her brain again with renewed vengeance. Then a voice came out of nowhere and took its attention from Buffy for a precious few seconds. It was voice that Buffy had never expected to hear again, much less the voice that accompanied the first.
" Get away from the girl, you freak,"
" 'Cause you got worse things to deal with,"
++++++
Faith looked in awe at the blackened building in the middle of the city. What had been a bustling building, full off energy and people, was now no more than a burnt husk.
" What the hell happened to the high school?" she exclaimed. Gunn looked out the window and started. Xander scrambled over to her side of the car and peeked over her shoulder.
" That was a high school?" Gunn asked. " Keep your eyes on the road, Doyley!" he reprimanded the half-demon, who was trying to get a good look as well.
" There's no one on the road but us! We'll be fine!" he shot back irritably. He was getting tired of driving all day while the others lazed about. Anyway, it was better to drive than to let one of the others do it. That was calling for disaster.
" Yup, that my friends is all that remains of Sunnydale High. The place of memories, good and bad," Xander said in response to Gunn's query.
" Mostly bad," Xander and Faith chorused, as they always did when talking about the past.
" Well. Since the school ain't nothin' but that," Gunn gestured at the view before them, " where do we go now?"
" Giles' place?" Faith suggested.
" Nah, if he had a paying job by now, he'd still be working," Xander rejected. " Maybe Buffy's house?"
" She'll be patrolling," Faith replied.
" Well, what do we do? Does she have any hangouts or something?" Doyle put in.
" The Bronze, I guess," Xander said. " But she won't be there yet,"
" Still patrolling, yeah I know,"
" So what now? We're gonna drive around to each and everyone of Sunnydale's cemeteries and look for her?"
" That sounds like a good idea," Gunn agreed.
" For you maybe. You haven't been driving for twelve hours straight,"
" Why don't you let me drive then?"
" Then again, great idea Faith!" Doyle quickly said.
++++++
" Right, are you sure we ain't going around in circles. I swear I've seen that cemetery four times already," Gunn said.
" Shut up you idiot, or you'll be seeing the same star flying over your head ten times a second," Doyle growled. " Any sign of her?"
Faith shook her head, eyes glued to the window. Suddenly she perked up and sat straighter. She seemed to be listening intently for something, though none of the others could hear anything.
" Wait, stop the car. Stop the car!"
Doyle slammed the brakes on, throwing everyone forward. Faith popped open the door, grabbing a shortsword from out of the weapons bag at her feet. The guys stared at her for a split second before reacting, scrambling out of their respective doors. Xander grabbed a longsword from the bag and was close on Faith's heels. Gunn ran around to the trunk and took out a huge, wicked looking, double headed axe. Doyle was already in the cemetery by then, forcing Gunn to hustle to catch up.
Faith's senses were so acute that she felt like she could hear the blades of grass crackling under her feet. She paid close attention to those senses, going where they told her to. Her aim was unerring and she didn't hesitate a single step.
She skidded to a halt and her heart almost stopped breathing at what she saw. Buffy, lying on the grass, and towering over her, some huge monster looking like it was designed by H.R. Giger. It hadn't noticed them yet, so intently it was concentrating on the blonde Slayer. Faith shook herself out of her stupor and said in the bravest voice she could muster.
" Get away from her, you freak,"
" 'Cause you got worse things to deal with,"
Faith hadn't realized the guys had come up to her, and that Xander had spoken until she saw the shocked look Buffy was directing beside her. She shared a look with the guys, nodding imperceptibly. Doyle spiked out, the sharp blue needles erupting from his face and fists. Wordlessly, the four rushed the beast as one, running in perfect unison, moving so fluently it was as if they weren't real.
They attacked as one, Faith and Xander plunging their blades into the beast's side, Doyle aiming for the eyes and Gunn cleaving a downward swing for the head. The demon proved tougher than they realized. Their weapons bounced off harmlessly on its leathery skin. It laughed, in a guttural, choking voice no human throat could produce. It swung one arm out at Faith and Xander almost contemptuously and at the same time, lunged forward at Gunn.
It had severely underestimated its opponents. It had become overconfident over defeating the Slayer and had thought four mere mortals to be mere child's play. It hadn't known that Faith herself was a Slayer and that Xander had years of Marine combat training. It had misjudged Gunn, who had grown lightning-quick reflexes in over twenty years of rough living, and had completely forgotten Doyle, the half-demon.
Gunn leapt back, swinging his axe vertically. The demon got nothing more than a mouthful of sharp steel, which cut if tongue and unprotected jaw badly. Doyle swung again and managed to rake a few lines across its left eye. Faith and Xander ducked under the arm with a contemptuous ease and Xander stabbed upwards at its soft belly, while Faith pierced the gaps in its backbone and skewered its brain.
It convulsed and fell to the ground, twitching still. Then, its ragged breathing stopped and the four managed to get their weapons free. Gunn swung downwards once more, severing the demon's head from its neck. Faith turned to Buffy, and saw the other Slayer still on the ground, wheezing for breath.
" Fuck! Buffy, hold on girl, we'll get you some help," she said, picking the girl up effortlessly. Without another word or moment's delay, they ran back to their car.
" We gotta get to Giles' place," Xander said needlessly, getting into the drivers' seat. Doyle gave no argument, sliding into the back with Faith and Buffy. Xander drove like a madman, ignoring traffic lights completely and taking corners so sharply they almost had to balance on two wheels.
" He might not be home!" Faith reminded her friend.
" So we'll break in!"
In minutes, they were at the doorstep to Rupert Giles' apartment.
++++++
Rupert Giles was mildly curious to hear the frantic pounding on his door, but his curiosity turned to shock when the door burst open, falling off its hinges. In came four people, two of whom he recognized, yet never expected to see again. His shock turned to horrified concern when he saw his Slayer, lying limp in Faith's arms.
" Move it, Giles! We don't have time to waste!" Xander snarled, and the Watcher was surprised to hear the authority and urgency in the young man's voice. He moved quickly, brushing past Giles before he even completed his sentence. Yet Giles saw that neither of the four panicked, or seemed overly frantic. Just efficient and fast.
" First Aid kit, Giles. Where'd you put it?"
Xander's voice stung Giles into action and he automatically moved for the cupboard in his kitchen, where he kept most of his medical supplies. Being a Watcher meant that you needed a large supply of bandages and the like ready. Meanwhile, Faith had maneuvered Buffy onto Giles' bed and was in the process of tearing Buffy's shirt off. A flurry of activity ensued in the normally quiet apartment, but Giles barely noticed.
Giles knelt down next to Faith, First Aid kit in hand. A young black man pressed a towel into Faith's hand. The conscious Slayer studied the extent of Buffy's injuries with a critical eye. " The bra's gotta come off," she said, with a note of finality. The men took it as a cue to leave the room, albeit reluctantly. Giles stood, but Faith waved at him to stay. " I need someone to help me,"
" C'mon, guys. Let's go put the door back together," the other stranger said, Irish by the sound of his accent. They left, closing the door behind them. Faith barely acknowledged them, rummaging through the supplies.
" Clean the wound, G," she said, drawing out some cotton wool and a bottle of disinfectant.
" You've done this before?" he asked, trying his best not to look at Buffy's exposed chest as he wiped the blood away. Faith nodded, then brushed his hands away. She was businesslike and serious, unlike the young girl he'd known three years before. While she daubed disinfectant onto the four ragged lines on the blonde's belly, Giles tried his best to stop the blood flow. Luckily, Slayer healing had dealt with the worst of it, although the injuries still needed to be stitched up.
When Faith drew out the needle and thread, Giles wanted to intervene and do it himself, but she silenced him with a look. It wasn't angry, or commanding, but reassuring instead. A look that spoke of confidence and certainty, and Giles found himself believing the girl. Then he wondered what had happened to her, to make her change so much in such a short span.
++++++
Gunn and Doyle hoisted the door back into its frame, while Xander hunted around for a toolbox. Doyle had kicked the door open, at Faith's urging, and his demon strength had leant to some of the damage. The wood around the lock had splintered and the lock itself had slightly bent. The hinges had come off with the door, but it wouldn't take long to screw them back into place.
Xander threw himself into the work, not participating in his friends' banter. Much as he loathed to admit it, he was afraid for Buffy, and concerned. He tried to foist it off as a sense of duty and responsibility he'd picked up over the years, but he knew better. He tried not to think, but just go on auto pilot, closing his mind down instead. Thinking would only bring complications and questions with no definite answers, and that led to a sleepless night.
All too soon, the door was fixed, although the knob had to be replaced. Xander slowly packed the tools and returned them to the shelf he'd found them on, then looked around, desperate for something to occupy his mind. Somewhere in the background, Gunn and Doyle were still arguing amiably, mudslinging good-naturedly. Any other day Xander would have joined them, but not tonight. He wasn't in the mood tonight. He suddenly wished that he didn't know Buffy, hadn't known her at all, so he could remain as emotionally detached as the other two.
Then the door opened, and Faith walked out, wiping her hands on a bloody white towel. Giles came out after her, looking slightly pale and worried. " She'll be fine, though a little weak and tired. Lost a lot of blood," Faith said, in answer to Xander's questioning look. " She's a Slayer, she's tough,"
Giles wandered aimlessly into the kitchen, then came back out, looking at the four people as if he'd noticed them for the first time and realized their importance.
" What are you doing here?"
He must have realized that the query came out harsher than he expected, because he immediately looked apologetic and embarrassed. None of the others were about to make it an issue.
" Giles, meet Doyle and Gunn," Xander introduced. " We have a little story for you, so I think you should get a cup of tea and sit down,"
His tone was gentle and assertive; Giles found himself moving for the armchair automatically. Before he realized what he'd done, Xander had already started talking.
