Part 1
Bane
Chapter I
As a city went Cleveland was okay, for the most part. That is if you did not take into account that it was situated on top of a hellmouth, a place where the layers between dimensions was extremely thin. The two dimensions were Earth and hell. Thus the name "hellmouth." It was a mystical convergence that drew all kinds of demons and hell-spawn to it. Other than that, it was nice as a city.
That is what Buffy Summers was thinking. She was wearing a white sweater with a black leather bomber jacket. Her hair was pulled into a ponytail.
Buffy was the Vampire Slayer. Well, not THE Vampire Slayer, any more. Not since Willow had super-activated the Slayer Legacy and turned all Potentials into actual Slayers. So, while the fate of the world no longer rested solely on her shoulders, she still felt it her duty to patrol nightly to stake vampires and kill demons. Which is why she was out here in the cold November night air of Cleveland instead of in bed at home, nice and warm.
The move to Cleveland was unavoidable. After spending seven long years on top of the Hellmouth that was Sunnydale, Buffy Summers did not know what else to do with her life. So she moved to the next hellmouth, although Giles did comfort her by informing her that it was not THE Hellmouth. Moving was her choice, one she regretted weekly.
As Buffy was her legal guardian, Dawn – her little sister – went where Buffy went. According to Buffy's memories, Dawn was a teenage girl. She had been with Buffy for years, growing up with her. Buffy had memories of babysitting Dawn, of chasing Dawn around the yard, and of Dawn reading Buffy's diary. There were many more memories. But all the memories before Dawn was fourteen were all fake ones.
Dawn was the Key, a mystical ball of energy that could open up portals between dimensions of reality. A hell god named Glory tried to use the Key, so a group of monks made it into Dawn and sent her to Buffy to keep the Key safe. That was when Buffy died to save the world, to stop Glory from killing Dawn and ending the world. She was revived after a few months. It was quite the experience.
Upon moving to Cleveland Buffy found a nice safe school for Dawn to attend; one that was not positioned right above the actual hellmouth. Catherine's Academy was a private school, but Dawn liked it. Dawn was now a junior, and Buffy wanted her last years of high school to be good ones.
Giles came along to Cleveland as well, for the summer anyway. He was one of the only remaining members of the Watcher's Council. As part of its gambit to destroy the Slayer line, the First Evil destroyed the Council's headquarters while a massive meeting was underway. Giles was assigned with helping track down and bring in all girls who had been affected by activating the Slayer Legacy. The Council had approached him one night in July.
"You want me back?" Giles asked the two men who were standing in the door to his apartment.
"We need you," one of them, the blonde, said.
"Your experience in invaluable," said the other, black haired.
"And I suppose the fact that there are only a handful of Watchers left is of no consequence?"
"It is a factor."
"What would be the conditions of my return?"
"Full re-instatement. Promotion to the Echelon. Salary commensurate with a senior Watcher on the Echelon. Full benefits," said the blonde.
"Dental?" Giles asked.
"Of course," black hair said.
"Anything else?" Giles wondered.
"We would need you to come back to England for a period of time. We need all the help we can get in putting the Council back together."
"Of course," Giles agreed.
"So you'll be taking our offer?"
"I have to think about it," Giles replied. "There are factors to consider. Options to weigh."
"Quite right," black hair said.
"Here's our number. Ring us when you've reached your decision."
"Please don't take too long."
"I shan't," Giles said.
Indeed, he only took two days to give the Council his answer. He invited Blonde and Black hair back to his apartment for tea.
"I want you to know I'm only coming back on my terms. The Council has been very…well, let us say the Watcher's Council and I have had our fair share of disagreements in the past."
"Quite true," the blonde, Heathcliffe Meyjer, said. "We've found this to be all too true with all Watchers in the field. Mr. Zambuto said essentially the same thing when we approached him."
"Really?"
"Absolutely," the black haired chap, Tyler Gerard, affirmed. "We realize the Council's methods were archaic at best, which is why we want every retired field Watcher to have a hand in rebuilding it. We feel their input would be of monumental importance."
"Too little, too late, don't you think?" Giles asked.
"Perhaps," Meyjer admitted. "But there is still evil to fight. Vampires still walk the night. Slayers still need training."
"Many Slayers need training," Gerard added.
"Quite," Meyer agreed. "We need as many Watchers as possible."
"Now, you mentioned something earlier about terms?" Gerard asked.
"Ah, yes," Giles said. He put down his cup of tea and fixed the two men with a steady gaze. "My terms are simple and straight forward. First, I want every Slayer who is active and fighting nightly to receive a salary from the Council. I've seen the affects of trying to balance a day job with nightly patrols. It does no one any good. A tired Slayer is a careless Slayer. And with so many, their chances of survival will be greater. They will live longer in this world, and I say they should be able to afford to do so." When neither man made a move to argue Giles continued. "Second, I want a house here in Cleveland. In my name, not the Council's. I will give you the appropriate information and you shall purchase it."
"Anything else?" Gerard asked conversationally.
"I want to be one of the Watchers bringing in Slayers. It has to be done with finesse and subtlety. I have seen a serious lack of those two traits within the Watcher's Council." Giles replied. "Those are my terms. Without them, I cannot in good conscience return to the Council. Even the Echelon."
Meyjer and Gerard sat back and exchanged a look. Meyjer turned to Giles and leaned forward.
"We cannot guarantee a salary for every Slayer." He held up his hand to forestall any arguments from Giles. "Mr. Zambuto made a similar request. As did many of the field Watchers. It is being seen to. Among those who survived the attack by the First Evil, we feel that if a Slayer abides by certain guidelines, she should be compensated for the risk involved with her particular duties."
"Guidelines?" Giles asked. "You mean controls."
"Nothing stringent," Meyjer said. "Periodic mental evaluation. Regular training. That sort of thing."
"After all, we Watchers have guidelines and get paid, why not see to it the Slayers do, too?" Gerard added.
"Where were these sentiments years ago?" Giles asked wryly.
"Sadly, they were very unpopular until only several months ago."
"And my other terms?"
"They are acceptable," Meyjer said.
"Good," Giles replied. "Then I have one more to add, now that I shall be joining the Council once more."
"And that would be?" Gerard asked.
"That as a newly re-instated Watcher, for the second time I might add, I serve as Buffy Summer's Watcher. Along with any other Slayer that may be in Cleveland."
"You want to be a member of the Echelon – which will have ten times the workload as before with rebuilding the Council – as well as an active field Watcher and bring in Potentials turned Slayers?" Gerard asked. Incredulity dripped off his tone.
"Yes," Giles replied. "I've been quite bored this summer. Cleveland may be a hellmouth, but it isn't THE Hellmouth, and isn't as active."
"May we ask why you want to remain a field Watcher when you could be on the Echelon?" Meyjer asked.
"You already asked," Giles pointed out. "But I shall tell you. Buffy Summers is an unusual Slayer. She needs an unusual Watcher. Wait, that didn't come out right." Giles stopped and took a breath before continuing. "Buffy needs a Watcher she can trust. And as with a lot of the Council's pawns, she finds that characteristic very lacking where the Council is concerned. With the amount of sympathy I was receiving earlier in our discussion, I thought you'd understand."
"We do," Gerard said. "And we accept your last term."
They shook hands on it.
Giles was gone by the beginning of August. Which was a lot warmer than tonight. Buffy wished for the heat of summer. That would make patrolling easier. But what really grated on Buffy's nerves was not the fact she was out here in the cold. No, it was the fact that no vampires seemed to be out tonight. She had traversed a goodly portion of the cemeteries, nightclubs and other vampire hot spots. All to no avail.
Since she was so extremely bored, Buffy contemplated how she got here. All the twists and turns. It was really amazing, when she stopped to think about it. She was called to be the Vampire Slayer at an early age. When she moved to Sunnydale, Buffy thought her life as the world's lone mystical female warrior was over. It just began.
She met Giles her first day at Sunnydale High. He was her Watcher, the man who trained and prepared her for the fight against evil. He doubled as the school librarian, and was a whiz at researching threats to the common and personal welfare of Sunnydale citizens. By the time Buffy was eighteen, Giles was a surrogate father to her. When Buffy's mother died, Giles was the one man who held her world together. He was the person Buffy always turned to for help.
Giles was committed to the fight against evil, but more committed to Buffy. When Giles was fired from being a Watcher due to his attachment to Buffy, he kept helping her, despite the burden it placed on him. When re-hired, there was no difference in their interaction; Giles was merely paid for his work.
Then Buffy died. She sacrificed herself to save the world. In his grief, Giles went home to England and quit the Watcher's Council once more. Buffy was resurrected by her friends and Giles was there as her rock. When she leaned too much on him, Giles backed off and left to England again. He said that if he stayed, Buffy would never grow up and he would not handicap her like that.
When the First Evil had its minions kill off Potential Slayers – girls who had the potential to become Slayers once the present Slayer died – Giles came back to Sunnydale. His presence grounded Buffy and gave her the focus she needed to come up with a plan to beat the First Evil. Giles was the closest thing Buffy had to a parent.
Buffy also met Willow on her first day at Sunnydale High. The mousy redhead became Buffy's best friend. Willow was a computer-geek with amazing hacker skills and a thirst for knowledge. Willow began studying magic during high school, getting serious about it during college. It was during this time that Willow met Tara and the two became a couple. From their relationship, both women came out of their shells, blossomed, and became two very powerful witches.
Then Tara died and Willow was consumed with grief and rage at her lover's killer. Willow went to a very dark place and nearly destroyed the world using her magical powers. She was brought back from the brink, but never really recovered from the loss of Tara, and the resulting homicidal tendencies. When Buffy found the Slayer's Scythe – a mystical weapon forged to help Slayers and a focal point of the Slayer Legacy – Willow reluctantly used magic to grant every Potential Slayer the power of being a true Slayer. The lure of the power of the magic was too much and Willow shied away from magic after that.
She still had the occasional magic "glitch." The lights in the house would flicker for no reason. Or the entire block would have a power surge. Things like that. Giles said it was because Willow had so much magical power that it was impossible not to have these little outbursts. But Willow refused to consciously use magic.
That first day at Sunnydale High was eventful. Buffy also met Xander. He was an affable young man who was head-over-heels for Buffy and best friend to Willow. That was why he started to fight the evil monsters of the night with Buffy. After a few years, Xander's crush on Buffy cooled down. Having his own girlfriend, Cordelia, helped. But then Xander and Willow kissed each other in front of their better halves. That ended Xander's romance.
Soon afterwards he began a relationship with Anya, a former vengeance demon turned seventeen year-old. That lasted until Xander left her at the altar. Anya stayed around Sunnydale and ended up reuniting with him just before the final fight with the First Evil. She died in that fight. Xander crawled into a bottle for a few months, but snapped out of his depression just as autumn settled in. And in a confrontation with an emissary of the First Evil, Xander lost his left eye. This did not help with his depression, but he dealt with it fairly well.
Which brought Buffy's thoughts to Faith. A couple months after coming to Sunnydale, Buffy died at the hands of a vampire named the Master. Xander came along quickly enough that he could revive her with some mouth-to-mouth. But in the few moments that Buffy was gone another Slayer was called. Her name was Kendra and she ended up dying less than a year later. Faith was her replacement.
Faith was a wild-child. She fought almost like she did not care if she survived or not. And during one of her fights, she accidentally staked a man. The killing sent her spiraling into badness. She began to work for the mayor of Sunnydale, a man who wanted to become a demon. Faith did some despicable things in his employ and wound up in a coma, compliments of Buffy. Once getting out of her catatonia, she tried unsuccessfully to take over Buffy's life. When that failed, Faith turned herself in and went to prison.
To save a friend – something she was seriously lacking – Faith busted out of prison. Once done with that, she joined Buffy in Sunnydale to fight the First Evil. When the town collapsed Faith took off with Robin Wood, the High School principal and son of a Slayer. He helped fight the First Evil and volunteered to be Faith's Watcher. They headed to Boston.
Thoughts of Faith led to Kennedy. She was one of the Potentials Giles brought with him to Sunnydale. She was now a Slayer. And Willow's girlfriend. Kennedy was a headstrong woman and did not get along with Faith. Buffy figured it was because Kennedy was a spoiled brat, used to getting her own way all the time. That did not go over with Faith, who would oppose Kennedy just on principle. It led to many a headache in Buffy's life.
A life that had been very interesting. From Los Angeles to Sunnydale, and from Sunnydale to Cleveland. Dying twice, coming back to keep fighting. Gathering a group of friends around her that made her nightly battles easier to handle. But she could not handle this cold without some action.
"Come on," she suddenly blurted. "I've hit every cemetery, I've crisscrossed this town – where are they?"
As her question left her lips, a noise down an alley caught her attention. It sounded like a trashcan being over-turned. A vampire on the hunt making that noise, maybe? Only one way to find out.
She sprinted across the street and into the alley mouth. She did not see anything right away, but then another trashcan crashed to the ground. She followed the sound, pulling a wooden stake out to be ready for anything. What she found disappointed her.
There, scavenging through the garbage was the rattiest man Buffy had ever seen. From the stench he emanated, this was not the first garbage he had been through. At her approach, he stood and turned to see what had caused the noise behind him. Seeing her with a weapon in her hand, he backed up.
"I didn't know this was your trash," he slurred. "I'll be going now."
He tripped over himself as he turned away from her. He fell sprawling, but got up quickly and ran down the alley in the opposite direction Buffy entered.
Buffy brought her hand down and looked around in disappointment. As she returned the stake to its place in the back of her waistband, she let out an exasperated sigh.
"I just don't get it. Two weeks with no vampire activity. It's like they all went AWOL or something."
She headed back the way she entered the alley. As she did she shook her head ruefully. "But that's impossible, what with the hellmouth being here and all. So what's up?"
On the docks seems like such a cliché, but that was where all the vampires were. Situated on a pier was a very old and large warehouse. It had no windows, bare florescent lights, and the floor sank into the pier ten feet, making for a large valley effect inside the warehouse.
Inside were gathered all the vampires of the greater Cleveland area. For a town the size it was, Cleveland did not have that many vampires. Perhaps it was because there were three Slayers living there. In any case, there were around two hundred vampires present, all standing in tense anticipation.
There were several gangs grouped with their leaders. And there were many lone-wolf vampires. All looked around at the others with suspicion. One and all they were nervous. Their facial ridges were exposed, fangs bared, eyes darting wildly. Whatever was coming was big, it was important, and it heralded the past.
Orick, the vampire who called them all here, came strutting in followed by four other vampires carrying a large box. It was made entirely out of silver and by the strain each vampire showed, weighed quite a lot. Orick walked to the front of the cement valley and motioned for the four vampires to put the box down next to him. He looked at the assembled crowd with smug satisfaction.
"As the last herald of the Master, and his only remaining faithful servant, I have brought to us a gift of unsurpassed value. Before his demise seven years ago, he sent a delegation of us to find and bring this package back to the Hellmouth. Sunnydale may be gone, but his intention was clear. He wanted to destroy the Slayer. And where better to bring such a boon than to where three Slayers live? When better to bring it out than when there are countless Slayers around the world? The Master may be gone, but his vision remains. We shall use the contents of this coffin to fulfill his dream of a world without the Slayer!"
He motioned to the four with the box and they opened it. Inside, lying asleep was the largest vampire anyone had ever seen. His feet were placed flat on the bottom edge of the box and his head jammed against the top of it, seven feet away. His shoulders filled the three and a half foot frame from side to side and his muscled bulk seemed ready to burst out of the box at any time. He was clothed in a gray, old-fashioned robe, complete with a cowl for his head and a rope around his waist.
Orick motioned again and the four lifted the huge creature up and out of the box. They laid him down on the cold floor. Once done, they closed the box again and carried it out of the warehouse, murmuring amongst themselves how it was much lighter, now.
The huge vampire's eyes fluttered open and he sat straight. He looked around, taking in all of his surroundings with a sweeping glance. His gaze brushed over the group of vampires, and as it did each of the assembled undead felt a chill settle into the base of their spine. Several vampires noted he looked odd. His facial ridges were more pronounced than other vampires'. The bumps protruded out from his face quite a ways while the indentations were deep fissures in his cranium. His eyes were a pale blue, yet pierced with a cold knowledge, as they swept over the room of undead. He opened his mouth and all his teeth were pointed and sharp; his fangs long and dangerous, even by vampire standards.
"Ou suis je?"
None assembled knew what the words meant. After waiting for a reply that was not forthcoming, the behemoth stood. He looked around once again, gauging his query.
"Wo bin ich?"
Orick, a bit nervous now, stepped forward. A lot of good this guy would be if he did not speak English. How was he supposed to use the big bastard if he could not follow instructions? And he had spent all that time perfecting that stupid speech.
"We are here to greet you," Orick said slowly and loudly. "You are Bane, right?"
"Ah, English," the big vampire said as he looked down at Orick's face. "A tongue I have spoken naught in many years. A vile language. Yes, I am Bane. Where am I?"
"A hellmouth," Orick replied with a nervous laugh. "Not THE Hellmouth. It's called Cleveland."
"Cleveland," Bane tried the name out in his mouth. "Who sent for me?"
"The Master did."
Bane took a long sniff of the air. His face wrinkled in puzzlement.
"Where is he? I smell him not. Only the putrid aroma of lesser vampires."
Everyone who heard this felt insulted. Their backs stiffened and they looked at Bane with hate. Most of them even growled. He ignored them, keeping his attention on Orick.
"He's dead."
"Dead? How long?"
"Seven years," Orick answered. "He was killed by a Slayer."
"Of course he was. Who else but a Slayer could perform such a feat?" He gave Orick a sharp look. "Who reigns supreme in this region?"
"What?" The question completely caught Orick off guard.
Before anyone knew he was moving, Bane was holding Orick off the ground by the throat. His right arm held the smaller vampire under the jaw, Orick's feet suspended a full foot off the cement floor. Bane's left arm remained at his side. He brought Orick's face close to his own.
"Which. Vampire. Lord. Rules. This. Region?" Bane emphasized each word by shaking Orick back and forth.
"No one," Orick managed to get out.
"The Lords are dead now," one of the more adventurous gang leaders, a tall skinny vampire named Dale said. "I think the Master was the last one."
"No, there is one more," Bane said. He eased off the pressure on Orick's throat but kept him in his hand, off the ground, "She, the Slayer cannot kill."
"But there's more than one Slayer now," Dale pointed out.
"More than one? How?"
"We don't know. All we do know is there's a lot of them. Three in Cleveland, alone."
"No matter," Bane said dismissively. "Even an army of Slayers cannot kill Her."
"That's good, right?" Dale asked. "I mean, one of us a Slayer can't kill? That's a bonus, huh?"
A thin smile cracked Bane's features. It was humorless and cold. His eyes sparkled and his teeth shone in the artificial light.
"It is excellent," he admitted. "At long last I shall finally be free of this servitude."
Dale smiled and nodded uncertainly. Soon the rest of the vampires joined him and they all smiled along with Bane, not really knowing why but smiling nonetheless. Ignoring the assembly, Bane regarded Orick, still hanging from Bane's grasp.
"But to do so I must regain my strength. I must feed."
Orick was able to give him a quizzical look. That was the last thing he ever did. Bane let out a growl so savage that to compare it to the growl of another vampire would be the difference between a mouse's squeak and a lion's roar. After this bellow from the depths of hell itself left his throat, Bane brought his teeth to bear on Orick's neck. Burying his fangs, Bane drank deeply of the vampire's blood. Orick never even let out a gasp of surprise before he was completely drained and turned to dust.
As Orick's body crumbled into ash, Bane looked up at the other vampires, who stood with shocked stillness. He let out another savage growl and jumped into their midst. He picked up one and sucked them dry. They too, turned to dust as he finished his rapid feeding. As one, the throng snapped out of their collective stupor to rush at Bane and overwhelm him.
Within seconds the giant vampire pushed them all back, then holding one in his grasp, he fed. When the unfortunate vampire in Bane's clutches turned to dust, those remaining fled.
With startling suddenness Willow bolted upright in bed, completely awake. She opened her mouth to scream at the fading memory of a horrible nightmare, but was unable to produce a sound. Swallowing hard, she got out of bed, turned on a light, and made her way to the bathroom. She splashed water on her face and looked into the mirror.
Water coalesced on her cheeks and dripped off her reflection's chin. She wiped her face with a towel and leaned closer to stare into her eyes. Red veins surrounded her dark green pupils. She sighed.
"Need more sleep."
As she uttered the words, her reflection's eyes changed from dark green into a pale blue. Her light complexion became even paler. She pulled back from the mirror and found her reflection replaced by that of a male vampire that had the palest blue eyes Willow had ever seen. His facial ridges were extremely pronounced and his teeth the most wicked looking she had ever laid eyes on. As Willow looked at the image that super-imposed her reflection, she thought not of danger or death but evil. Pure evil ready to be released.
The face disappeared from her sight, but not her memory. The nightmare her mind forgot upon waking suddenly crashed into her like a physical blow. She staggered and began to breathe shallow and fast, hyperventilating. That face, it was in her dream. It belonged to something terrible, something beyond magic, beyond vampire, beyond Slayer. There was something or someone else, too, shrouded in mist.
Willow screamed before her knees gave out. She lay clutching her legs to her chest, trembling. Slowly the fear retreated and she could think clearly. She didn't know how, she didn't know why, but she knew this was a warning. Something was coming.
A key was heard in the apartment door's lock. The door opened to reveal Kennedy coming home from her nightly patrol. She looked bored.
"No vampires again tonight," she muttered, expecting Willow to be sleeping.
She noticed the empty bed and with a quick scan of the tiny apartment, found Willow sitting huddled with her knees to her chest in the bathroom doorway. Kennedy jumped to her lover. She knelt down and put a hand on Willow's shoulder.
"Willow, what's wrong?"
"Evil … evil coming … evil."
"Evil? You mean the First? But we beat it, we won."
"Different evil."
"Willow, talk to me!" Kennedy exclaimed.
"Buffy," she said looking up. "I have to warn Buffy."
"Warn Buffy? Why don't you just tell me?"
Willow shook off Kennedy and crawled on unsteady arms and legs to the telephone. She picked up the receiver and dialed.
"Be home," She chanted. "Be home. Be home. Be home."
"Willow, talk to me!" Kennedy was running out of patience and getting very upset.
After what seemed an eternity, the phone was answered.
"Hello?" a sleep-befuddled voice mumbled.
"Dawn? Is Buffy there?"
"Willow?" Dawn asked. "No, she's not here. She's patrolling."
"When she gets in have her call me, okay?"
"Okay."
"The second she gets in," Willow insisted. "Promise me, it's important."
"I promise," Dawn replied. "Willow is everything okay?"
"I don't think so. That's why I need to talk to Buffy. Just stay inside and have her call me."
Willow put down the phone, stood up, and looked at Kennedy. The younger woman raised her eyebrows and let out a sigh.
"You want to tell me what's going on?" Kennedy demanded. "Buffy may be your best friend, but I'm your girlfriend and I'm a Slayer, too."
"I don't know what's going on," Willow admitted. "I think … no, I know … evil's coming. Old and powerful evil."
She took a step toward Kennedy and stumbled. The other woman caught her in her arms and brought her to the bed.
"Can you tell me what you know?" Kennedy asked gently.
In response, Willow only nodded.
Buffy's house was an old brownstone in a quiet neighborhood. In reality it belonged to Giles and he had a basement apartment here, for when he was in town. He was constantly on the go; though, finding all the Slayers and alerting them to their new station in life. Aside from him, only she and Dawn lived here. The Scoobies – the term the group used to describe themselves to each other – used this house as their meeting place when it came time to strategize.
On the other side of town lived Kennedy and Willow. Some could say that Willow followed Buffy to Cleveland. But "followed" was not quite the right word. Willow felt that if she did not help Buffy in her fight against evil, she would be abandoning her. What with the badness that was the First Evil, Willow did not finish her college education. So she transferred her UC, Sunnydale credits to John Carroll University. Now she was a full-time student and part-time sidekick.
Kennedy followed Willow. And "followed" was the appropriate word for Kennedy, who was so in love with Willow it was nearly painful. Since Kennedy was younger than Willow, she still needed to finish her senior year of high school. She enrolled at Catherine's Academy with Dawn. Kennedy was over eighteen; though, and she moved in with Willow. The two lovers were nearly inseparable, except when they went to class.
Xander moved to Cleveland, but had his own place a few blocks away. Due to the loss of his left eye, he got a job in construction management. It was basically the same thing as being a foreman, except he did not have to be outside in horrible conditions. He was in a funk most of the summer, because of Anya's death. A few one-night stands only made it worse. Then Faith showed up and everything changed.
Buffy, Willow, Kennedy, Xander, and Dawn were sitting around Buffy's living room discussing a vampire nest in a crypt Kennedy found during last night's patrol. It was too big for one Slayer, so they were devising a plan of action.
"According to this blueprint, there's only one exit," Willow was saying. "And of course, there's probably a sewer entrance not on the schematics."
"So what say we come up from the sewer like bats out of hell? Wait until it's light, and they won't have anywhere to go," came a voice from the living room doorway.
Everyone looked to see who the new arrival was. Faith stood with a duffel bag in one hand. She was clad in leather pants, a tank top, and a jean jacket with army boots completing the look. She smiled.
"Miss me?" she asked.
"Faith," Buffy murmured. "I thought you were–"
"Going to Boston?" Faith shrugged. "Been there. Not much to see. Thought I'd give another hellmouth a try."
"We could always use another hand," Willow said.
"Or two. If you still have them," Dawn added.
Faith raised her arms and showed both her hands were still attached to her body. She joined the group. With three Slayers, the vampire nest was a cakewalk to eradicate.
Faith stayed at Buffy's house in Giles' basement apartment – the one he never slept in since he was gone all the time – for a week. Then, to everyone's shock, she moved in with Xander. No one saw it coming, least of all Xander. One day he came home from work to see Faith standing at his door.
"Faith, what are you doing here?"
"Came by to check on a friend. Can I come in?"
"Sure. Just let me unlock my door." He did. "There we go. Welcome to Casa de Xander," he said with a sweep of his arm.
Faith walked in, followed by Xander. She looked around, it was a fairly good-sized apartment. To the right was a fairly large closet. It created the illusion of an entranceway upon coming in. Beyond this was the kitchen, with an open archway to the living room on the right of the back wall. On the front wall of the living room was the door to the large bedroom. The bathroom was in there, along the front corner of the bedroom. It was neat and clean, not what she was expecting. She told him so.
"I know. But I hate living in filth. I grew up with the two worst parents on Earth. They never cleaned up, never washed dishes. It was a mess. I vowed I'd never be like them."
"Wise choice. I know what it's like to have horrible parents. Sometimes it's hard, really hard, to get out from under their…"
"Shadow?" Xander offered.
"I was going for curse, but shadow sounds good, too."
An awkward silence fell between them. Faith stood leaning against the kitchen arch. Xander stood cupping his hands together, thinking of what to say next. He knew, or at least had a pretty good idea, why Faith was here. Broaching the subject would not be pleasant.
"Want something to drink?" he asked, moving into the kitchen.
"A beer would be great."
"Ah, Cleveland Xander is alcohol free." He turned to gauge her reaction. Faith raised her eyebrows. Xander merely shrugged. "Part of getting out from under our parents' curse. A big step for me was getting rid of alcohol."
"Soda?" she asked.
"Soda it is. Soda is good."
Xander brought Faith a can of Coke. Sitting down he motioned her to follow suit. He opened his own can of sugary goodness and gulped down half. He looked at his guest.
"You want to talk about it?" he asked.
"About what?"
"Don't get all defensive and push-away-girl. I may only have one eye, but I can see just fine out of it." He paused. "Giles told us. Called us on the phone."
"God, can't keep anything secret for long!"
"Faith it's not exactly a bad thing to tell us. We are your friends. At least I thought we were."
"You are."
"So why not tell us Wood died?"
Faith's shoulders seemed to writhe as she struggled to find the right words. "I don't … It happened right in front of me. It's not something you just…"
"I understand, completely." Xander reached out and took one of her hands in his. "I mean, Anya didn't die right in front of me, but she's gone. And there's nothing I could've done differently."
"Yeah. Nothing."
"Anya and I were working our way through some serious shit. And then…"
"She was good people," Faith stated.
"So was Wood."
"Yeah, he was good people." She wiped tears from her eyes. "The best man I ever knew."
She set down her soda and grabbed Xander on either side of his face. She pulled him into a deep kiss. Her hands moved to hold his head from behind. His went to her shoulders and held her. Their jaws worked feverishly while their tongues snaked in and out, over and under all around in their mouths. It was a hungry kiss, full of need and sorrow and pain. It was the least romantic kiss either ever experienced, and that was saying a lot.
When they finally broke for air, Xander pulled back. He looked at Faith, panting for air, just as he was. She was so beautiful: dark brown hair, full red lips, a figure to melt a man from any distance. He knew this was not right. He was not sure if he cared, but he had to say it.
"I'm not Wood."
"And I'm not Anya."
"Is this what we want? What we need?"
"I don't know. I'm tired of hurting. I'm so tired of being empty."
"Will this help?"
Faith shrugged. "Can't hurt."
They kissed again. This kiss was a little less needy and a little more passionate. It still lacked any positive emotion, but it was better than before. Things steadily heated up from there.
Later, they lay on the carpet of Xander's living room. Faith was cradled in Xander's arms. He kept running his hand through her long dark hair. They both wore satisfied smiles. The mood was near perfect.
"So, is this when you toss me out?" Xander asked. His smile remained on his face as the tone he used remained light. They had had sex before, while Xander was in high school. When they were done, Faith pushed him out of her motel room.
Faith's smile was instantly gone.
"What am I doing?" She stood up and began to dress hurriedly.
Xander knew he blew it. He sat up and looked at her hard.
"Faith, I was just kidding. I–"
"You know, let's not!" She made her way to the door.
Xander got up and grabbed her by the arm. He spun her around. "What's wrong?"
"God, Xander! Don't you get it? I used you!" She tore herself out of his grasp and pulled her shirt over her head with extra force. "I used to like that feeling. Get some, get gone. But not anymore. Not after…"
"Wood?" Faith nodded and Xander continued. "Hey, if I remember correctly, we were both using each other, there. And let me tell you, I've tried to use other women, and it made me feel like shit, too."
"But not today?"
"What? No! Today was something special. I don't know, maybe it's 'cause I know you. Or maybe it's 'cause this is what we both need."
"I don't need your pity!"
Faith turned to leave. Xander grabbed her arm to stop her. She spun around and belted him. He stumbled back and tripped over his own clothes. He fell on his butt.
Xander looked at her, stunned. The force of a good right hook from a Slayer was enough to knock anyone senseless. It was more than that, it was the fact she hit him. He did not think they were at the violent phase of this discussion.
Faith looked at him, horrified. Then she did something Xander never expected. Her bottom lip began to tremble and her eyes began to tear up. He fought the wave of dizziness that nearly overpowered him and he stood to take Faith in his arms. She broke down and began to weep.
Xander was so shocked by this turn of events he did not know what to do. So he simply held her. After five minutes, her racking sobs quieted down until they were merely hiccups. Another two minutes and she could talk.
"God, I'm such a wimp."
"No, I think that's been waiting a long time to come out."
"It's just… Wood was right. He said there were guys out there who were good and decent. He was one of them. And you're another. And here I was, trying to use you."
"Hey, we went over this already. If this is using, I'll take it any day of the week. Maybe we were using each other. But I know I need what you have. Maybe you need me. I felt something there."
"It's called an orgasm."
"No. I mean, yeah, I felt that. But I mean I felt a connection with you. I felt it back when I was a senior. And I felt it today. I don't know if you did, but…"
"I did," Faith whispered.
"Then why the tears?"
"Because that's not who I want to be anymore."
"Huh?"
"The user. I don't want to be her anymore."
"So don't," Xander replied. "Stay. Be a different Faith. It's okay if you change, especially for the better." He hugged her tight. "I wouldn't mind a lot more days like this. Minus the jaw-breaking right hook."
"Ohmigod, I'm sorry about that. Are you okay?"
"Nothing a good round of Slayer lovin' won't fix."
Faith smacked him playfully on the arm. Then she smiled up at him. "I see you're still dressed for the occasion."
"As long as the occasion calls for nudity, I'm always ready for that costume."
Faith smiled again.
Buffy walked up to her porch steps, still bored. Her arms swung listlessly and her head lolled from side to side. Another cold night without any vampires to kill.
Down the street there was a loud clang. Buffy's head whipped around to look. She did not see what caused the noise, but she did catch a commotion.
On the corner nearest her house was a manhole. The cover began to move, then was thrown off the asphalt to land several yards away with a twin clang to the one a moment before. A dozen or so vampires poured out and sprinted in opposite directions. Following them was the largest vampire Buffy ever saw. He caught one of his fellows and lifted him off the ground. The smaller vampire screamed as the bigger one bit into his neck.
After several moments, the bigger vampire was finished feeding and he let the smaller one go. The little vampire fell to the ground, turning to dust before hitting the pavement. The big vampire began to head in the direction the other vampires fled, but stopped. He turned in a slow circle and then made a beeline for Buffy.
To say the bigger vampire surprised Buffy by feeding off the smaller one was an understatement. She was shocked. So shocked that before she knew it, the big vampire was standing on her porch, towering over her. Shaking her head to clear it, Buffy forced her eyes to focus. All she saw was the vampire's stomach. She craned her neck to look him in the eye.
"Are you she who slays?" he asked in a voice from the grave.
Fear gripped Buffy's throat and turned her legs wooden. Even if she wanted to move, she could not. Concentrating on a meditation technique she learned from Giles, she forced the fear down. Swallowing she answered.
"I guess," her voice cracked. She took another steadying breath and tried again. "I guess. And you would be?"
"Bane. Bane of Slayers."
"Wow," Buffy said with sincerity. "I've never heard that one before."
Her look of sincerity was replaced with intensity as she let fly an uppercut to Bane's chin. Her fully extended arm just reached his face. The hit did connect and his head snapped back. Buffy followed that move up with a jumping front kick to his chest. Bane was driven back in surprise.
He regained his composure fast and when Buffy tried a jumping roundhouse kick, Bane was ready. Wrapping her leg with one arm and grabbing her waist with the other hand, he stopped her attack from landing. He lifted her to his shoulder level, only to be met with several fast and hard punches in the face from the diminutive blonde. Ignoring her offensive, Bane threw her into her porch floor.
Buffy landed hard, the breath knocked out of her. She lay paralyzed more with the fear that refused to stay down than by physical stress. This guy was serious. Well she could be too. Now all she had to do was get that pesky fear tamped down. And of course, he needed to give her a minute or so to do that.
Bane seemed to unwittingly go along with her plan. Instead of attacking her, as she lay nearly helpless, he stood above her. A puzzled look crossed his face and he cocked his head to one side.
"You are an enigma," he said.
For an answer Buffy brought both feet up into Bane's face. He staggered back from the force of the blow, allowing Buffy the chance to regain her feet. She put her hands by her head, bent her legs and rolled a little bit up with her torso, pushed off with her arms, arched her back and just like that was on her feet.
"Impressive."
"Yeah, I know," Buffy responded. "You should see me at parties."
Confusion darted across Bane's face at the remark. Buffy used his temporary lapse to pull out her stake. Jumping forward, she rammed it with all her might into his chest where his heart would be. She stepped back pulling the stake out with a judiciously satisfied nod.
Bane looked down at the wound, which was bleeding white blood. He wiped his chest and the puncture closed before his hand passed over the wound.
Buffy was horrified. Shock, panic and fear waged war in her mind. She tried to calm the bubbling agitation that was her psyche, but the shock numbed her. The panic and fear overwhelmed her and she was unable to move. She could not form any coherent thought other than that she was going to die and Bane would be the one to kill her.
Bane reached out and grabbed Buffy under the jaw one-handed. He lifted her straight into the air until their faces were level. He pulled her close.
"You are indeed the Slayer," he said evenly. "Not only do you have exceptional strength, but you also know where it is you must strike. Unfortunately for you, I am not a true vampire. Thus your attack did not succeed."
Bane stopped talking to sniff the air around Buffy's head. He moved his nose around from one side to the other. Letting out the air he had inhaled to smell her, Bane continued.
"I knew you were the Slayer upon sight. And your blood and your scent indeed have the marks of the Slayer. Although, there is something different about you – thus your mystery." His words began to part the fog of numbing fear that shrouded Buffy's mind and she looked at him with clear eyes. "Nonetheless, I could find you anywhere on the planet. Fear not, I am withheld from tasting of your blood, for it sings to me not. When it does, we shall meet again."
He extended his arm and dropped Buffy. She fell in a wheezing heap. As the moments passed, her fear retreated until it was gone. When she caught her breath she looked up. Confusion crossed her features and she looked around. Bane was nowhere to be seen.
"Who was that?"