A.N: Cheers to those who reviewed, glad my approach to Buffy went down well. This chapter is mostly Faith oriented so I hope you enjoy my 'Dark' version of her too. Sorry this took a while.
The Lucky Few
One Week Later.
Location: Utah, Salt Lake City.
Faith took a long, slow drag from her cigarette as she leaned on the railing beside her. She held the smoke in her mouth for a moment then let it flow out between her lips in a sigh.
Surrounding Faith was the City of Salt Lake; at least what was left of it. The demonic hordes weren't too particular on how they destroyed the homes of humans, but they sure as hell had an extensive range of methods. Faith's lip curled into a ghost of a smile as the reality of her situation sunk in. It was hard not to notice how screwed they were.
Plumes of black smoke billowed from enormous fires that hollowed out skyscrapers and street-level stores alike. The smoke rose to join the dark, stormy clouds above as meagre rays of sunlight bled through the murky heavens. And since the horizon was spreading a thick, red mist towards her location, the light literally did bleed through; everything below a violent hue of crimson. A loud cracking sound followed by thunderous rumbling alerted Faith to a large portion of an office block crumbling away into the street below. Faith watched on unperturbed. It wasn't an uncommon sight. Place was a ghost town.
Everyone had been evacuated as soon as they heard word that the tide of evil was rolling their way. To Faith it had seemed kind of retarded to delay the inevitable. But whatever, she wasn't the boss girl. It was the general's decision what happened on the frontline, Faith and the others were just convenient assets.
As she brought the tip of the cigarette back to her lips the soldier beside her gave her a look.
"Problem?"
"No ma'am." His eyes shot back to the perimeter. Then added abashed, "I'm trying to quit ma'am."
Faith snorted. "I'll let you bum one." She offered the pack to him, "Won't tell. Honest."
Her cheeky grin at least earned her a smile.
"What's ya name?" she queried after another puff.
"Private Charlie Samson."
"That's tough."
"Ma'am?"
"Having your parents name you Private."
The soldier couldn't tell if she was joking or just stupid. He decided to just smile and nod.
"It's Giles." Faith hadn't even heard her step out onto the roof but as she turned in mild surprise there stood Willow with a satellite phone pointing towards her face. The witch wasn't smiling. But she rarely did since ground zero.
"Thanks Red." She muttered awkwardly with the cigarette still pressed between her lips as she put the pack away.
"Faith. How are you?"
"Five by five. Still alive. So must be doin' somethin' right." She joked humourlessly. "How's tricks in jolly old?"
"Fine, fine.
"How privileged you are." Her bitterness was barely concealed and she heard Giles tut under his breath.
"I can assure you I've made every effort to keep check on the events unfolding in America, Faith."
"Reassuring." She breathed with frustration. It wasn't aimed at him, just at the situation. "How's the kid?"
"Dawn's doing well...missing you all understandably, but enjoying university nonetheless. She's perfectly safe here." Giles sounded impatient.
"What can I do you for, G-man?" Faith decided to not waste time on pleasantries. There was a war in progress. No one called for an idle chat. She heard him sigh quietly and Faith imagined he was cleaning his glasses in the pause that followed.
"I need to ask...has..." He was hesitant. She knew immediately what Giles was going to ask.
"No." Her tone was suddenly icy.
"You're sure? " He was on the precipice of pleading and it did nothing to gain him sympathy. "No sign at all? She-"
"I said no, Rupert." Faith snapped, causing Willow to glance at her briefly with bemused interest. The use of his first name was enough to silence the watcher.
"Fine. I apologise. Just thought I'd ask." He sounded so defeated that Faith felt herself crack under a sense of newfound guilt. Just as she was about to say sorry for snapping, the loud and sudden sound of a whining siren cut through the city-wide silence.
"We have company." Willow declared in a deathly quiet voice.
"What is it? Is there an attack? Faith? Can you-"
"Sorry, Giles. Gotta work."
Faith hung up. She had pressing matters at hand; such as the viciously sharp disc that had stopped an inch from her nose. She gulped as the weapon's teeth flashed menacingly in front of her. "Thanks." she said hoarsely as Willow moved the disc away from Faith's head with some unseen spell and dropped it harmlessly over the edge. The slayer watched it clatter to the cracked sidewalk below then refocused on the maze of broken buildings further out. "How many?" she asked bluntly, removing the remains of her cigarette and flicking it over the side.
"Six...no, seven. Assassins; Scattered from West to East." Willow stated in an indecipherable monotone. "I think their leader is amongst them."
"Oh, goody." Faith's lips curled into a voracious grin as she lowered to one knee and picked up the rifle that had been resting against the railing. "I still owe him a lil' somethin' somethin' for the doozey he left me with yesterday." She referred to the deep scar running down the left side of her face. It stung like a mother and she'd been itching for payback since.
"Well lucky for you he just tried to make it two – zero. Have fun evening the score."
"Will do." But Willow had already vanished. No doubt off to check the magical defences. Or maybe sit in a dark room and cry. Most people liked that option lately.
It didn't take long for the first S.O.B to raise its ugly head. Grateful for her slayer vision and the scope on her rifle, Faith smirked, "Adios." She squeezed the trigger and the demon's head exploded like a watermelon. It wasn't the same thrill from the hunt she'd get in close combat with only her instincts and a hefty weapon in hand...but it was satisfying nevertheless.
By this time a squad had reached the roof and were taking positions along the edge with the slayer, taking aim and firing down at the Assassins without hesitation. Nobody wanted them any closer than the 30 storeys down they already were. Someone fired an RPG and there were woops and cheers as the rocket tenderised another demon. A lull grew, as gradually, each assassin was taken out.
Then she spotted him. He'd been watching her the whole time, crouched behind the ventilation system of an apartment block directly in front of her. She could hear his unmistakeable hiss of a laugh on the stiff breeze blowing her way. Faith's jaw clenched as anger boiled inside her. Grudges were kind of her thing. His impossibly wide smile displayed no fear. No need to hide from her crosshairs. It served only to enrage her further and she'd fired without even meaning to.
Too quick; he'd dodged the bullet effortlessly and his laugh seemed to echo louder across the empty city. The reason for his apparent confidence was soon revealed.
First there were two. Then five. Ten. Twenty. She lost count. A collaborative horde of nasties were amassing in the streets and on the roof tops below as Faith saw the troops exchange anxious looks. Slowly, the roar of battle cries and inhuman screams grew until it was deafening. Faith swallowed hard, her resolve unwavering, as she reloaded her rifle and heard the same sound repeated along the frontline. "Get ready Jarheads. Whoever hits the highest body count gets me for the night."
A ripple of laughter. Who said she couldn't keep up morale?
As Faith got ready to take her next shot her attention was drawn to sudden movement in enemy lines. From behind this living wall of horrors appeared several small, yet unnervingly cruel-looking siege weapons. Faith leaned back from her sight and cocked her head, taking in the scene below with curious puzzlement. "The hell?" Faith voiced out loud, furrowing her brow as an uneasy feeling spread through her. This was new.
"Ballista and catapults at twelve o'clock!" yelled a troop nearby, "Duck and cover!"
Looking through her scope again Faith watched in horror as ropes were pulled taut by demonic fingers, waiting to release projectiles designed for a world of hurt.
"Oh, you have *got* to be shittin' me..."
She rolled back from the railing, dropping her rifle, as the first bolt blew a sizeable chunk out of the building; leaving a gaping hole. Faith lost her footing, falling into the remains of what was once a luxury corner office. Burnt paper and dry wall swirled and collapsed around her. She coughed as smoke and dust billowed into her mouth, filling her lungs. The whistling sound of a second bolt caused the slayer to snap her head round just in time to watch it impact with the concrete above.
It was night. But there were no stars.
No wait, there was one.
It moved across Faith's line of vision and around again, gaining friends as she stared harder. A muffled shout thundered form the heavens and the black sky split open, red light bleeding through as Xander's giant head looked down at her.
"She's alive!"
His voice was horrendously loud and her head felt broken as his words vibrated through her.
"Urr?"
"As diverse a vernacular as ever; she's fine." Even through her blurry vision she could tell he was smiling broadly.
"...ffuh ohf...blahk beard..." she grumbled as more light broke through and strong arms pulled her up and out of the rubble. Xander on one side and Private Samson on the other, Faith was hoisted slowly up and supported as she steadied her feet in the destroyed remains of the office.
In the matter of seconds it took for her to clear her head and notice she was being supported, Faith removed both offending arms firmly, "Mm fine."
"You sure? You had half the roof on you." Xander pressed, brushing debris off his uniform.
"Ya don't say? Beats me cus I feel fffffu...antastic." Faith grimaced as she bit back the pain throbbing through her body like a jackhammer. "What's the sitch?"
"Artillery kicked in." He replied, switching to military mode. He offered to help her up the steel ladder that had been dropped down to them and she accepted begrudgingly, unable to deny how difficult the simple task was. Once they reached the top Xander continued, "They're holding back enemy forces. Our artillery is the rock to their scissors. S'what happens when you bring Roman toys to the table and we're sporting 21st century kickass."
"Not got a standard army quote for that one, huh?" Faith joisted him as she regained some strength in her legs.
"I have a few. But I liked my way better. " Xander quipped, not missing a beat. Faith suddenly noticed that the rooftop was now pot-marked with flaming craters that marines were hurriedly trying to get under control. So much for having a peaceful spot to have a smoke.
"Casualties?" Faith asked, expecting the worst.
"Luckily, only you. And hey!" Xander yelped as she socked him in the arm. He really was too cocky for his own good these days.
"Roger that. Sir, they're reporting a full retreat. We should be clear of present danger for now." Charlie announced as he received the information over his helmet's headset. Faith's sense of relief was short lived as she watched something crawl up and over the railings, digging its claws into the Private's shoulder as it attempted to pull him over. Xander went to play tug-o-war with the demon but didn't reach him quick enough.
Faith was faster.
The dagger that had been unsheathed from her belt was already resting by her side as the demon's head slowly peeled back from its neck, falling to the street below and followed in quick succession by the rest of it.
"Clear?! My firm, Bostonian ass is that clear!" Faith said incredulously.
"I-I guess o-one g-got through." stuttered a wide-eyed Charlie. He muttered thanks, rubbing at his shoulder and made some excuse to return to his post. Poor kid, Faith thought, that's probably the closest he's been to the action.
"They blow you up; knock you down and still you put the Duracell bunny to shame." Xander stated in amazement as Faith cricked her neck, the pain starting to ebb.
"This girl's got stamina what can I say?" bragged the brunette with a cocky grin. "God I love this thing!" Faith exclaimed as she twirled her dagger easily between her fingers, staring at it with quiet reverence. "The unspeakably evil always leave the best prezzies after you off 'em."
"As long as you don't develop a sudden urge to eviscerate me anytime soon, I'm happy you've made friends with the thirteen-inch knife." Xander quipped, genuinely impressed with how easily she'd beheaded the demon, but always there to find the funny. Faith rolled her eyes.
"You're mostly safe, Pugwash." She shot back keeping her trademark grin. Her hands came to rest on the railing that ran around the roof's edge once again and she scanned the mid-apocalyptic city that she'd called home for the last three months. It had definitely seen better days. She on the other hand, could place this day and all those in the months before it high above some of her worst memories.
Faith's expression and body language suddenly changed. Her legs buckle ever so slightly as she let out an odd groan. Xander hastily caught her arm before she could fall and helped her to stay standing.
"Heyyy, still a bit woozy, huh? Maybe you should sit d-"
"You don't feel that?" Faith asked, struggling to breathe normally as she clutched her chest. "You can't tell me you don't feel that, man. Jesus it's so..." Familiar was one word. But also alien. She'd felt this connection before. This intense sixth sense. But not with this baggage. The connection was damaged. Cracked, bleeding, wrong. She felt refreshed and nauseous at the same time.
Closing her eyes she focused, pinpointing the source. It was close. Painfully close. It was-
"Oh god." She finally recognised this feeling. Her eyes shot open and Faith saw what she expected.
"Faith? Hellooo? What's wrong?" When she didn't answer he was forced to follow her unwavering gaze to a lone figure some fifty or so meters away, perched atop a commercial building, legs swinging gaily over the edge. Squinting with his one good eye, he struggled to make a face out; but no one could blame him for his lack of perspective. He took his telescope from out of his breast pocket – yes, Faith teased him mercilessly over it – and aimed it at the stranger.
His jaw nearly dropped to his polished boots. "Oh my god..." He could barely bring himself to believe what he'd seen.
Glazed eyes meet his; Faith's expression a storm of emotions. Each one evidently battling its way past months of repression to reach the surface and Xander Harris suddenly saw how much Faith had sacrificed to keep herself together these past, gruelling weeks.
"It's her, isn't it?" she asks him, her voice barely a husky croak, "Buffy."
To be continued...
