Chapter Three

A Decision Made

From the cellar, where she and Spike spent their nights, and most of their daylight hours, Buffy heard Faith come in through the kitchen door. She started to go upstairs to find out if she had made a decision, but Spike prevented her.

"Give her some time, Pet. If you rush her, you might just rush her into the wrong decision."

Reluctantly, Buffy agreed, and settled into Spike's arms, hoping sleep would come soon. But the longer she lay there, the more awake she was, straining to hear what was going on upstairs. She knew Faith hadn't gone up to bed because she could hear her in the kitchen - first opening the refrigerator, and then the microwave oven being turned on as something was heated up.

But mainly, Buffy kept hoping she would hear Faith calling Giles. It was after two a.m. in Sunnydale, which meant it was after 10 a.m. in England, and Giles would have been up at least four or five hours. But as far as she could tell, Faith never made the call before Buffy heard her climb the stairs to go to bed.

"But that doesn't mean she won't call him once she gets up to my bedroom, my old bedroom," Buffy thought to herself. Eventually, she fell into a restless, unrestful, sleep.

Several hours later Buffy woke up, and knowing she'd never get back to sleep, got up and went upstairs to the kitchen. It was only six a.m. so she knew everyone was still asleep She went into the refrigerator and out of a brown paper bag she got a pint of pig's blood, poured it into a large mug, and warmed it up to 98° in the microwave oven. She still felt uneasy, and somewhat embarrassed, to drink blood in front of anyone.

After downing the still disgusting-tasting liquid in one gulp, she washed out the mug then picked up her cell phone; the disposable one she used whenever she called Giles. It was two in the afternoon, and he answered almost immediately.

"Buffy, is everything all right?"

"Good morning to you, too. And yes, so far - so far as I know."

"I presume that means Faith hasn't decided what to do."

"Not yet. I tried to get her to call you to see if you could convince her not to tell the Council about me, but she acts like she wants to be the one to make the decision one way or the other."

"She hasn't hinted about her decision?"

"Not even the tiniest. But I know what she's doing. She's trying to balance being the Good Slayer and doing the right thing, with her guilt about the things she's done to me and my friends and family when she was the Bad Slayer."

"You're probably right. I know she must be overwhelmed, struggling with what must be one of the most difficult decisions of her life."

"And mine."

"Yes, of course."

"Giles, what can I do? I'd hate to to do something drastic if she decides to call the Council on me."

"By 'drastic,' I presume you mean 'fatal' ."

"That's exactly what I mean."

"Well, I do have one suggestion."

"What is it? I'm open to any and all ideas."

"Well, you could leave Sunnydale for a while. Maybe if Faith feels like she's really needed, and you're not there constantly reminding her that, despite your affliction, you're stronger, faster and the more effective Slayer, she might do what she can to kill as many vampires and demons as possible until she feels like Sunnydale can do without her. And then perhaps she might return to Cleveland without letting the Council know about you."

"That sounds well and good, but where could I go? I don't know anybody anywhere except here."

"Perhaps you could visit with Angel. I've heard he's got his hands full and I'm sure he could use a Slayer's help."

"Yeah, I guess I could call him and explain the sitch here."

"And I am confident he would tell you the same thing."

"Okay. I'll do it. I'll call Angel and see what happens. Thanks, Giles. It seems like no matter what, you're still my go-to guy."

"You know I'm always only a phone call away."

Buffy impatiently waited until eight before she called, and with some trepidation, she dialed the number to the Hyperion Hotel.

"Angel Investigations. We help the hopeless," a familiar voice said.

"Cordelia?"

"Yes," she answered hesitantly, almost recognizing the voice. "Who is this?"

"It's me, Buffy."

"Oh. Well, uh, hi. How are you doing?"

"Okay, kind of. Is Angel around? I need to talk to him."

"He's here. But he might be asleep. He was out all night taking care of a nest of Trochahn demon spawn. He looked pretty messed up, and beat up when he came in."

"Could you check? This is really important."

"Okay. Hang on."

Cordelia pushed the "HOLD" button and went upstairs to Angel's room. Gently at first, she tapped on his door; then a bit harder. After a few seconds she started to turn away.

"Come in."

When Cordelia opened the door, Angel was only wearing the pants he had come back to the hotel with, still covered with green, yellow and brown slime and red bits of entrails. Some had soaked through his shirt to his skin, and some were still on his face and in his hair. He was in the doorway to the bathroom.

"You have a phone call, from Sunnydale."

"Buffy?"

"Who else? She says it's important."

"Can you tell her to give me a few minutes to get in and out of the shower. I really need to get this stuff off me."

"Sure."

Cordelia closed the door and went back down to the lobby. "He's just getting into the shower. He needs to wash off all the slimy bits and pieces. Do you want to call back? Or should I have him call you, or . . . ?"

"How about we just wait?"

"Okay."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a few moments.

"So!" Cordelia said with phony brightness. "How's everyone? Everybody good?"

"Yeah. Pretty much."

More silence.

"How are you doing?" Buffy finally asked.

"Good. Not doing much acting, but I stay pretty busy, what with the visions and the helping out with the killing of demons and vampires and such."

"That's good. Not so different from Sunnydale."

"No, not too much. Well, some different."

More silence.

"So how about you and Wesley? Any leftover sparkage?"

"No. No sparks. They all died out before they ever really got started. We're just friends."

More silence.

"So why don't I just go check on Angel and . . . Oh, here he is now."

"Buffy, hey. What's going on? Cordy said it was important."

"Yeah it is. Have you heard anything about Faith - lately?"

"I heard she was out of prison, and she was either on her way, or was already in Cleveland. Why? Is there something I should know about?"

"Well, she's here, in Sunnydale. And it seems that she now is the Good Slayer. Giles convinced the Council to have her come to Sunnydale to protect our citizens from the Hellmouth."

"That sounds like a good thing. Isn't it?"

"You'd think so. Don't get me wrong, she is taking care of business. But there's this little thing about me and my vamp-ism. The Council thinks I'm dead, and now Faith is trying to decide whether to be the really Good Slayer and tell them I'm still here, or just keep quiet and hope they don't find out she knows I'm not - dead."

"You think there's a chance she might tell them?"

"I don't know. I tried to get her to talk to Giles, but I think she just wants to make the decision on her own. I don't want to sound like I don't trust her, but I don't trust her, not completely. And I'm afraid if she does tell them, I might, well, I might do something I shouldn't - to her."

"So, you want me to talk to her?"

"Actually, Giles suggested I should leave Sunnydale, maybe come to L.A. for a while. So, what do you think?"

"Of course. You know you're always welcome here, anytime."

"Good. That's great. Thanks. Just one more thing - any problem if I bring Spike with me?"

"Spike?"

To Be Continued