The vampire stared down at the bound man. The moonlight shone through the broken window of the abandoned factory storehouse reflecting off of the demon's bleach blonde hair and made his pale skin look even more marble-esque than usual.
The gagged man looked up at the undead creature, his eyes bulging in fear. The ancient demon slowly paced in a circle around his potential prey, his lips twisting into a slight leer. He stalked carefully, fluidly, like a jungle predator.
"Don't know what you did to piss her off, son," he chuckled to the captive. "But I'm not complaining."
The man watched in fear as the vampire's face morphed from human to monster in seconds. The helpless victim could only squirm in his chair and sob around the hunk of soiled cloth shoved into his mouth. The metallic chains around his wrists bit into the tender flesh as he struggled uselessly.
The vampire stopped in his pacing and cocked his head to the side. He smiled cruelly at the seated man, drinking in the fear that radiated off his human form. The scent was still intoxicating to the demon even after all his years of creating destruction and mayhem. The undead creature ran the tip of his tongue along his elongated canines and looked up suddenly towards a darkened corner of the room.
"So how do we do this, pet?" he asked into the darkness.
The dark girl stepped out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight. The limited lighting reflected off of her skin giving the mysterious woman an ethereal appearance. She slowly crossed the room and folded her toned arms across her ample chest. "You can have his blood," she rasped thickly, her eyes never leaving the prisoner's face as his eyes flashed from confusion to realization.
He knew this woman. And he knew he would never leave the dilapidated building alive.
Her emotionless face broke into an eerie grin across her pale face. "I want his soul."
24 Hours Earlier
The Boston girl inhaled deeply, taking a long pull from the cigarette dangling between her two lips. Patrolling had been a bust – not even a newbie vampire to play with the entire evening. Her body itched with need and unexpended energies. Dancing so close to the blonde slayer had rekindled the fire deep in her belly that had remained dormant for too long, and the unexpected embrace at the top of the staircase had continued to stoke the inferno. The old Faith would have gotten drunk and found someone to fuck in an attempt to smother the internal blaze, but she doubted the Summers women would tolerate the darker slayer's lascivious adventures on their living room couch.
Taking one final drag, Faith flicked her cigarette butt onto the slightly wet concrete and crushed the dying embers with the heavy toe of her chunky boot. She looked up suddenly when the sound of glass shattering in the distance alerted the young slayer to someone's presence nearby. She rolled her shoulders under her leather jacket and smiled to herself as she touched her hand to the wooden stake tucked into the lining of her new coat. Maybe the night wasn't wasted after all.
The Boston slayer felt that familiar tingle down her spine, alerting her to the presence of vampyric or demonic activity. But as the four dark figures lumbered down the abandoned alleyway and closer toward the young slayer, something felt off. As they stumbled closer, clear signs of their intoxication, the brunette woman realized with a shudder that the four figures were not the undead. They were instead the most dangerous animal of all – human.
"Hey there, girlie," one of the large men drunkenly slurred. "Kinda late for you to be out all by yourself, ain't it?"
Faith stood still and remained silent as if afraid that any sudden movement or noise would put her further in harms way.
"Whatsa matter, cutie?" another man leered, stepping closer to the Boston girl. "You too good to talk to us? You stuck up or somethin'?"
The four men stood together, their bodies a formidable brick wall, making the dark slayer's retreat seemingly impossible. The Boston-born slayer began walking backwards, stepping away from the four menacing figures.
A third man flashed the anxious girl a sly grin and continued to close the short distance between himself and the frightened slayer. Faith could smell the alcohol radiating from his noxious body. "Someone oughta teach her some manners, I think."
Faith's dark eyes nervously darted around the dark corners of the alley, looking for something – anything. With nowhere else to turn, with no way to escape, and the ability to fight back destroyed, the Boston girl did the one thing she had sworn she would never do in her lifetime.
She screamed for help.
The Boston girl's cries for assistance were cut short when she felt the strong hand clench tightly around her throat, choking off her air. She clawed uselessly at the man's rough skin, her panicked desperation impeding her ability to effectively wrench the hands from her throat.
One of the men chuckled darkly. "We better show this bitch a better way to use that pretty little mouth of hers."
Faith continued to struggle for air. She knew that lashing out at the men would only cause her blinding pain because of the chip in her brain, but she saw no other choice. Mustering all her strength, she cocked her right leg back slightly and swung her knee forward and upward. Her leather-covered kneecap connected solidly with vulnerable flesh, immediately dropping her assailant to the ground. As he fell to his knees, the Boston woman felt the searing pain burn through her brain and she too screamed in pain, grabbing at her head.
"Somebody shut her up," the fallen man gasped as he continued to clutch at his groin.
One of the remaining three clomped forward and cracked his clenched fist against the Boston slayer's beautiful face, silencing her screams of pain. Faith fell forward onto the wet pavement from the impact of the sucker punch. She felt the lose gravel bite into her palms as she stopped her fall with her hands.
The three remaining men crowded around the fallen woman, looking anxiously at each other and then back to staring down at the ground at the young girl. No one made a move. Yet. A low growl from a darkened corner startled the three standing men. They simultaneously looked up sharply in the direction of the unexpected noise.
"What the fuck is th—ahhhh!" A dark figure pounced on one of the men, dragging him into the shadows. The sounds of bones snapping and the gurgled cries of human pain filled the air.
"Shit!" one of the remaining two men squeaked as he and his friend scampered away into the night, leaving the others behind.
The mysterious figure stepped out of the shadows. A brisk breeze caused the leather of his black duster to flutter in the wind around him. The remaining assailant attempted to pull himself to his feet despite the lingering pain between his legs.
"Leaving so soon, nancy?" the blonde creature taunted. He grabbed onto the vulnerable man and tossed him through the air causing the goon to crash hard into the side of a metal garbage dumpster. The man's head slumped forward as he slipped into unconsciousness.
Faith looked up and recognized the undead creature. He didn't know who she was – not in this skin at least – but they had encountered each other months ago when the Boston girl had taken over Buffy's body.
"You-you saved me," she gasped in horror and in awe. Why would a vampire protect her against potential rapists?
Spike was breathing hard from the fight although he didn't need air to survive. It was more the product of his intensity, not his lack of conditioning. "I may be a monster," he explained, shrugging. "But I'm not an animal."
He watched as the seemingly vulnerable woman pulled herself off of the damp concrete and brushed at her torn leathers. The blonde vampire eyeballed the curvaceous woman and his stomach rumbled loudly. "All that fightin's got me a tad peckish though," he grinned as he held his hand over his growling stomach.
"I don't think so, William." The dark slayer spun in the air, launching a steel-toed boot in the direction of the demon's head. Her heavy boot connected with the vampire's chiseled jaw, sending him crashing into a pile of discarded boxes.
"Fucking Slayer!" he growled, wiping at his bloody lip with the back of his hand. "Fuck," he cursed loudly. "I guess that makes you the other one." Spike picked himself up from off of the ground. "I've heard stories about you, little bit," he stated, dusting the gravel from his dark jeans. He looked up at the Boston girl and smiled cruelly. "Thought you were muff divin' in prison though," he mocked, licking the blood from his fingers suggestively.
Faith stared blankly at the British vampire. "I got out," she stated flatly with no other explanation. She absentmindedly fingered the wooden stake inside her jacket.
Spike growled at the dark woman, tensing his shoulders as if preparing for a fight. "What kind of twisted little game are you playing, Slayer? You pretending to be helpless to draw out the real nasties? I heard you were the crazy one…" he noted, "but this is even a little bent for the likes of me."
A low moan alerted the two natural enemies. The final assailant remained on the cold gravel, groaning as he slowly regained consciousness. Spike reached down to pick the man up by his dislocated shoulder. The vampire twisted and turned it lose in the man's socket and the human attacker howled in anguish.
"What should I do with this one, love?" Spike drawled. "I'm still hungry," he reminded the girl, licking his lips hungrily as he stared at the writhing would-be-rapist.
Faith looked up, her dark hair falling over her eyes. "Drain him," she whispered hoarsely.
The man's scream ripped through the night sky.
Faith winced when the front door of the Summers' house creaked loudly as if protesting to be opened at such a late hour. After leaving Spike and his victims in the dark alley, the brunette slayer had rushed back to Revello Drive, anxious that someone might notice her absence but also worried that something else might go horribly wrong that night.
The Boston girl crept silently into the foyer and closed the door behind her with a silent click. Faith hopped quietly from one foot to the next as she pulled her thick boots from her feet and discarded them on the rug in the entranceway. She shrugged out of her leather jacket and sighed quietly, eyeballing the living room couch wistfully. At least it was more comfortable than her prison cell.
A voice startled the girl: "Where have you been?"
The dark brunette's body tensed momentarily when she heard the icy accusation lining the blonde slayer's question. Faith looked towards the sound of the voice to see Buffy sitting in her pajamas on the bottom steps of the second floor staircase.
"Couldn't sleep," the Boston girl shrugged. "I went out for an extra patrol."
Buffy stood up from the carpeted stairs and stepped closer to the taller woman. She stared hard at the other girl's face and cocked her head to the side. "What happened to your face?" she asked. Her eyebrows knit together in confusion as she closely observed the discolored skin around the young slayer's right eye.
"I got attacked," the dark woman stated emotionlessly. The tormented and tortured lines on the Boston girl's face smoothed away and were replaced by a blank canvas of stoicism.
Buffy reached out hesitantly, and she tenderly touched at the brunette's swollen cheekbone. Faith flinched slightly at the unexpected gentle touch. "Well I can see that, Captain Obvious," she mumbled, pressing the back of her fingers lightly against the inflamed and bruised skin. "Vampire or demon?" she asked.
The Boston girl's dark eyes visibly narrowed. "Human."
Buffy dropped her hand to her side. "Human?" she gasped, surprised by the other slayer's answer. "A human did this to you?" She clenched and unclenched her fists, feeling her polished nails bite into the palm of her hands. She had known this might happen, but she didn't realize it would happen so soon. Things like this made the blonde slayer pause in her belief that saving the world for human kind was the right thing to do – her sacred duty. But maybe some humans didn't deserve to be saved.
"Don't worry 'bout me, B," Faith grumbled lowly, noticing anger in the elder slayer's eyes. "It'll be gone in the morning," she insisted. She turned her back on her former nemesis and began to walk towards the couch. "I just wanna sleep it off, okay?"
"Upstairs. Now," the blonde commanded. Faith turned her head to look back at the small slayer. Her face looked set and determined, but her hazel-green eyes belied the sternness of her voice, clearly showing the concern she felt for the other girl's wellbeing.
The darker slayer sighed again, exhausted by the day's events and she slumped her shoulders forward in resignation. Obeying the other girl's unwavering command, she carefully padded up the staircase and towards Buffy's room. There was no use arguing with the blonde girl, plus she didn't want to wake up Joyce and have to face her obsessive worrying as well.
The full moon shone in through the thinly curtained windows of the blonde slayer's bedroom. The eerie light illuminated the space where the Boston girl unabashedly peeled off her leather trousers and tight top and haphazardly discarded them onto the floor. Buffy was secretly thankful for the darkness in her bedroom that hid the unexpected blush that crept onto her face as she stared at the undressing girl.
Faith didn't allow her sister-Slayer the opportunity to play Twenty Questions. Wordlessly, she slipped under the blankets on Buffy's bed and turned on her side toward the window and away from the Californian. "Night," she mumbled into the darkness, closing the door on further conversation.
Buffy bit her bottom lip as she stared through the dim lighting in the room and at the back of the Boston girl. Faith still hadn't revealed to her what exactly had happened to her during her captivity at the Initiative and now tonight, she refused to share how she had gotten a black eye. Frustrated with her inability to communicate her concern for the other slayer, Buffy fumbled with the comforter and lowered herself into bed, careful not to let her body brush against the disciplined form of her sister-Slayer.
Faith remained rigid in bed until she heard the even breathing of the woman lying next to her. Sighing quietly, the Boston girl rolled onto her back, being careful not to disturb Buffy's sleep. She stared at the ceiling, finally allowing herself to reflect on the events of that night. She had permitted Spike to kill that man – so what did that mean for her? Was she an accomplice to an innocent person's death or did some individuals deserve to die?
She closed her dark eyes tightly, willing the vivid mental picture of Spike sinking his teeth into the tender flesh of the goon's throat out of her head. She didn't want to think about what had happened in that dark alley. Not yet at least.
But she knew she couldn't continue to live this way – so vulnerable…so helpless. She didn't feel like a Slayer anymore. She felt…like a girl. And there was no way she was going to allow the Initiative, or anyone else, to turn her body into a weapon to be used against herself.
The dark slayer stared in the bathroom mirror and inspected her facial bruises from the previous night. The dark wound had already begun to fade to a dull yellow – nothing that a little cover-up wouldn't conceal.
"Faith!" she heard Joyce's maternal voice call up the stairs. "I made pancakes!"
Faith stampeded down the stairs and into the kitchen to find Joyce and Buffy busily finishing making breakfast. The Boston girl hesitated in the doorframe. The two Summers women looked so happy, so comfortable around each other. She felt a small river of jealousy flow through her veins. This was the type of scene she had always wished to have with her own mother growing up in Boston.
Joyce turned, spatula in hand, and recognized the uncomfortable look that had fallen across the dark slayer's face. "Faith," she smiled kindly. "Have a seat. I made enough to feed an army."
"Or two slayers!" Buffy chirped happily, sitting down at the kitchen island and diving into the pile of pancakes and bacon.
Faith gave the elder Summers woman a thankful smile and slid into her own seat at the raised countertop. She picked up a fork and started to plow through the food in front of her.
The phone jangled loudly, interrupting the comfortable silence of the early morning. Buffy jumped up from her seat at the kitchen island and rushed to answer the phone before its third ring. "Hello?" she breathed into the receiver.
The blonde's smile faded quickly and her eyes darted toward the Boston girl who had begun to push the final remnants of her breakfast around her plate with the tip of her fork. "Uh huh," Buffy mumbled. "Hold on. She's right here."
Holding her hand over the mouthpiece, Buffy looked expectantly at the younger slayer. "Faith," she started, earning herself the attention of the other girl. "It's for you."
Faith's eyes narrowed and she quickly rifled through the limited list of names of those who knew she was currently staying at Buffy's house. She hopped up from the kitchen stool and casually strolled over to the blonde, taking the phone from her outstretched hand.
"Yeah?" she drawled into the receiver.
"Good to know you're still alive," came the rumbling voice.
Faith paused, attaching the voice to a name. Angel.
"Just calling to see how things are going," the perpetually brooding vampire stated. "We just wrapped up that little business in LA…so…" Angel trailed off. He had wanted to drive up to Sunnydale weeks ago to return the dark slayer to Los Angeles, but he knew Faith had her own reasons for needing to be back in the town where everything had gone so terribly wrong.
"I've still got things to do, Angel," Faith announced vaguely. "I'm not done here yet."
Angel sighed into the receiver. "I thought you might say that," he admitted. "Just be careful," the souled vampire warned. "I know how far you've come, but I also know you've still got a ways to go."
The brunette nodded, knowingly. "Yeah, Angel. No worries about me though. Everything's cool here," she insisted.
"I just don't want Sunnydale to get under your skin again," he pressed. "Don't let that town mess you up like last time."
Faith frowned into the phone and glanced over at the blonde girl who was doing her best to look interested in the tall stack of pancakes in front of her rather than eavesdropping on the content of her former lover and the rogue slayer's phone conversation.
The Boston girl raked her fingers through her sleep-tussled locks. She knew what Angel meant. She had told him everything within just a few months of incarceration. They both knew all too well that the city was only a metaphor for the other slayer. And Buffy was always under her skin.
"I'll be careful," she promised the LA-based vampire. "Be in touch," she mumbled before hanging up the phone.
Faith felt the eyes of both women boring into the back of her neck, but she tried to ignore what she knew to be inquisitive looks. When she turned away from the phone and back to face the kitchen island, the Summers women had quickly averted their eyes and were instead busying themselves with the final bites of the early morning meal.
"So, B…." Faith started, breaking up the silence. She teetered back and forth on the balls of her feet expectantly. "What's the plan for today?"
Buffy looked up from her nearly empty plate, her hazel-green eyes suddenly guilty. "I've gotta go to class today," she complained with a sigh. "Can't skip out on school forever, I guess."
Faith nodded silently.
"Will you be okay on your own?" the blonde asked anxiously. "Do you wanna come to campus with me?"
The Boston girl made a face. "No offense, B, but I don't wanna get back into the habit of hanging out at your schools and waiting for you to finish up your stuff."
Buffy gave the dangerous slayer a small, knowing smile. "Fair enough. I'll catch you later though?"
"Count on it, Blondie," the dark girl stated, flashing her deep dimples. Faith turned to the elder of the Summers women. "Thanks for the breakfast, Mrs. S."
"Anytime, sweetie," Joyce smiled as she began clearing the breakfast dishes.
The Boston girl gave her sister-Slayer a sly grin. "I'm gonna shower," she informed the smaller girl.
Buffy's mouth dropped open. "Nuh-uh!" she protested, hopping from her seat to the ground. "I need the bathroom first!"
"Gotta catch me, B!" the dark brunette laughed. Faith spun on her heels and raced up the stairs, fighting the small blonde for position. The taller girl's long legs carried her up the staircase first, and she slid into the bathroom before the blonde huffed up the final stair. The Boston girl gave the blonde slayer a sly smile and a cheeky wink before closing the bathroom door behind her.
Faith chuckled darkly when she heard the other girl's small fists beating against the wooden door. "Faith!" the elder slayer hollered. "You'd better not take forever! I have school!" she whined.
After cleaning up and saying goodbye to both Buffy and her mother, the dark slayer walked along the sparsely populated Sunnydale streets. She felt as though there was an extra bounce to her step. Faith turned sharply into Restville cemetery and followed her Slayer-senses to the front door of the unassuming mausoleum.
"Spike," she called out loudly as she burst through the front entrance of the ancient vampire's crypt. "Put on some pants. We're going hunting."
The previous night had made the dark slayer realize that even though she might not personally be able to harm another human, there were ways around the limitations of the device inside her brain. She suddenly had found purpose – a new goal and reason for being in this cursed town. Revenge.
"That's him," the dangerous woman rasped to the demon crouched beside her. When she saw the military man walking out of the entrance to the secret military facility, the painful memories flooded back. She closed her eyes momentarily at the intensity of her rage. He was one of the individuals responsible for her captivity. She recognized him as the scientist who had taken vial after vial of her blood.
"I'm not your lap dog, you know that, Slayer?" the ancient vampire growled as his eyes followed the unassuming man.
The Boston girl narrowed her eyes at her undead accomplice. "Behave and I won't kill you, William."
The blonde vampire grimaced, but bit his tongue. He had worked alongside the other slayer years ago to prevent Angelus from destroying the world. This new partnership seemed less noble, but it didn't bother the soulless creature.
The dark slayer knew that she could potentially capture the man to remove the chip in her brain. But she wasn't so much interested in corralling the scientists responsible for her condition to make them reverse the procedure. She was more invested in watching them die a slow and painful death.
Suggested Listening: "Capital G," by Nine Inch NailsWell I used to stand for something
But I forgot what that could be
There's a lot of me inside you
Maybe you're afraid to see
The Boston girl threw her right arm around the cold, marble neck. She tipped her head back and took a long pull from the bottle of beer in her left hand. The music growled around her and she closed her eyes, letting the crunchy industrial chords vibrate off her body as she danced provocatively with the undead man.
Faith felt a strong hand grab onto her elbow and spin her around. She found herself suddenly face-to-face with the blond slayer, her hazel-green eyes flashing in anger.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing, Faith?" she demanded, her hands perched on her hips. "I've been trying to find you all day," she complained.
The brunette girl felt the snarl crawl onto her mouth. It was far too easy for her to fall back into her old destructive behaviors. "What's it look like, Princess?" she spat out bitterly. "I'm finding the fun."
Buffy looked appalled. "With-with him?" she sputtered, pointing at the soulless vampire.
Spike stalked up behind the Boston girl and slipped his arm around the brunette's slender waist. He nuzzled the space where the woman's neck met her shoulder. "What's wrong, Slayer?" he leered, looking up at the shocked blonde woman. "Jealous you might not be the only Chosen One to get pelvic with the undead?"
Buffy's face blanched. "You-you can't be serious," she whispered. She quickly shut her eyes hard, surprised by the well of emotions threatening to spill out of her tear ducts. The blonde turned on her heels and rushed away before the Boston girl could defend herself.
Faith turned and punched the British vampire in the stomach. The blonde vampire doubled over in pain. "Don't fuckin' mess with me like that, Spike," she growled harshly, glaring down at the undead man. "If I want her to think we're fucking," she snarled, "it'll be my idea, not yours."
Spike knew all too well by the brunette's abrupt change in attitude why she didn't want the other slayer thinking they were having sex.
"She'll never love you, Slayer," the vampire gasped, still holding onto his stomach. "That one's broken. She's not capable of loving anyone beside herself – and especially not you. You'll only ever be a killer to her."
Leaving Spike behind, Faith grabbed her leather jacket off of a plush sofa and stormed out of the Bronze. She needed to find something to hit.
TBC