Chapter 6: That Hellmouthy Effect -

Monday August 3, 1998; Sunnydale, afternoon.

While the discussion with Giles had been interesting - and unexpected to her - not finding Cordelia and the others at the library had left Faith at loose ends for the immediate afternoon. Hitting the street near the high school, she looked around, considering what to do to kill some time. It wouldn't have bothered her to hang out at the library until someone showed up, possibly grabbing a book to kill time with, but the sudden connection she'd started making with the Watcher had honestly kind of freaked her out a bit.

His unexpectedly frank statements, both on looking forward to working with her and on his views on the Watcher, Slayer, and Scooby (Faith hated that name) dynamic had hit her on levels she wasn't really aware of. All she knew was that something had grabbed her deep where she lived with an almost physical clench. She had to get clear for awhile, try to clear the roil of uncomfortable emotions and thoughts out of her head and stomach.

Unfortunately, that left her with, time, nothing to do, and no clear plans.

One thing she was certain of: Rupert Giles and Buffy's little gang of 'Scoobies' couldn't possibly be for real. Cordelia maybe - when she let down her guard, the cheerleader was almost too real to be comfortable with - but the rest? No way.

Nothing in Faith's life had prepared her for the possibility that they might be exactly what they seemed, and she couldn't accept it without looking for the hidden catch.

Wandering aimlessly for a bit, she snagged a couple of 0.99 cheeseburgers from Burger-Mart and a drink from a convenience store, and wandered along munching on them. After awhile, she found herself headed down a street that she recognized as leading to the warehouse district and to Willy's. As good a direction as any and it gave her an idea for a decent way to kill some time.

Willy's was not exactly crowded on a Monday afternoon when she pushed through the door, she noticed. The handful of various demon types nursing beverages at the bar or at tables looked to be more scared to death of her than potential threats.

Willy looked up from rearranging his bottles with a mixed expression of mild panic and resignation. He sighed heavily, threw a bar towel over his shoulder, and came to the bar as she came up.

"Hey Slayer," he said. "What can I do you for?"

"Wanted to see if you've come up with anything since the other night, Willy," Faith leaned against the bar.

He shook his head, "Heard there was another killing. But, naw. Nothing yet." His eyes widened, "Honest - you don't have to break the bar up. Or me."

"Relax, weasel," Faith grinned. "I'm peaceable. For now. Got a description that I thought might help your memory problems."

Willy threw a nervous look around the bar, and motioned her forward. "Fine. Let's head to the back and talk." He pointed to the door behind the bar and headed that way.

A bit wary, Faith came around the bar and followed him back. "What, don't want the regulars to know you're snitching?"

"They already know," Willy made a dismissive gesture. "No need to rub their noses in it though, right?" He leaned against some shelves with his arms crossed, "Ok, Slayer, whatcha got?"

Faith described the demon, ending with, "And whatever this is, it's strong. Can soak up axe blows and toss a slayer around."

"Huh." Willy shook his head, "Still nothing. Been keeping my ears open, but... " When Faith's eyes narrowed, he held his palms up nervously. "Honest. Nothing, zip, nadda. Doesn't even sound like anything I've heard of going through this town."

"Huh." Faith studied him carefully, "But you'll tell me if it does?"

"Sure, kid." Willy's imitated a bobblehead for a moment. "No probs." He decided she probably wasn't going to thrash him around, and relaxed slightly. "So, you're the new slayer, huh?"

"What of it?"

"Nothing!" Willy did his best to look harmless, "You know, you're a lot prettier than the previous one. I mean, she had this exotic thing going, don't get me wrong - way hot. But... "

"This going somewhere?" Faith asked him in a bored tone.

"Umm, no so as you could see it," he admitted.

"Kinda surprised Buffy let this kinda place operate in her town," Faith said, studying Willy idly. "Demon hangout and all."

"Hey, it's not like that, Slayer." Willy said. "Ok, so it is like that, but hey. I kinda serve a useful function, when you think about it."

"Do tell," Faith said.

"Well, yeah," Willy straightened, a bit indignant. "Most of my customers here are either demons that can pass, Brachen, Ano-movics, whatever, who come in to relax with other demons, or they're harmless types who want to hang out. Drink their yak bile, go work, watch sports, whatever. We get some rough types, because hey - dive, y'know? But if they get too out of hand outside here, I try to nudge the Slayer towards them and everyone's happy."

"Vamps aren't harmless."

"Yeah, but," Willy shrugged. "Look, kid. I buy blood from hospitals and blood banks at just above cost - past it's sell by date and they're going to dispose of it anyway. And beef, pig, and horse blood from the slaughterhouse at wholesale for the vamps that like variety or are off humans. If they're eating in here, they're not out there drinking humans, right?"

"Guess so," Faith finished her study of him, and straightened, causing Willy to cringe slightly. "Ok, so here's the deal. I'm not going to shut you down just yet. You hear anything I think might be interesting or useful, you let me know, and if I got it, I'll slide you what I think its worth or what I can afford. I'll rough you up on occasion for show so your customers don't get the wrong idea."

Willy sighed, "Ok. Sounds good. How big a cut here we talking you wanting?"

Faith's fist slammed into the wall next to his head and he cringed away, "What, you think I'm running a protection racket here?"

"Uh, no?" Willy ventured.

"Good answer," Faith smirked at him. "Don't know much about this Slayer gig, but I'm thinking taking payoffs from demons ain't in the manual. We do it like I said. Info pans out, I'll slide you what I can. Hold out on me or screw me over, and I'll fuck you up. Not gonna shake you down, though."

"Ok, ok. Geeze," Willy shrugged. "Sorry, all right? But you gotta see how it looked like from my end."

"Right. Keep an ear open for that demon, and anyone that might have summoned him," Faith said. "And, if you hear of any vamp nests and where they're located, I'll want that, too. That'll be worth a cut for you if they have anything worthwhile." She spun on her heel and stalked out.

"Ok, so she's a lot different from the other slayers," Willy muttered.

...

From the personal Journals of Rupert Giles, Watcher:

There is still as of yet no word on the possible whereabouts of my slayer, Buffy Summers. While not ostensibly a searching mission for her, I did manage to meet with an old contact of mine whilst I was in San Diego who was able to perform a mystical location ritual for me, and who promised to check among her contacts in the United States mystical community.

While the ritual did pinpoint a faint trace of Slayer energies in Sunnydale, not unexpectedly, as well as that of a couple of possible potential slayers in the greater California area - something that was unexpected - it revealed no traces of a second active slayer within the reach of the spell.

I fear that assuming that Buffy Summers remains alive, an assumption I must maintain, if only for my own sanity and that of Mrs. Summers, she can only be somehow mystically warded against scrying and location. Else, she is out of the range of the ritual utilized. It is possible, albeit unlikely in my opinion, that Buffy took steps to ward herself against location by myself and/or the Council. If that is the case, I can only hope that once she has had time to work through the traumas and issues involved with the Angelus affair, she will return on her own.

It is impossible for me to refrain from recriminations against myself in this matter. Shortly after it became apparent that Angelus not only had become divested of his soul, but that my Slayer was unable to bring herself to dealing with the matter, I should well have taken matters into my own hands. What changes might have taken place in the ensuing months had I requested a Council Hunter Team to deal with Angelus rather than leaving it upon the already overburdened shoulders of an emotionally stricken teen aged girl? Or if I had requested of Samuel Zabuto that he join me here, bringing Kendra with him for an earlier and more permanent stay? How many of those murdered during Angelus' twisted campaign might yet survive if I had?

I can only find in my defense my trepidation over what other steps a Council Hunter Team might have taken, and the possibility of their posing a perhaps greater threat to my Slayer and her cohorts as they might to Angelus. It is a thin comfort when the wolves of 'if only' gnaw at me in the wee hours of the morning.

I know in my saner moments that these recriminations are entirely the product of hindsight, which is said to be twenty-twenty for good reason, and yet I am unable to put them aside and accept that the bulk of the culpability for the deaths of Jenny Calendar, Kendra, and many others rest more upon my soul than upon the shoulders of Buffy Summers.

Enough of that. It is ground that I have covered before, here, and that I shall no doubt cover again. It shall no doubt prove as useless a mental endeavor in the future as it has in the past: what is done, is done and cannot be recalled.

Moving on to present matters, as I sit at my desk here, I can look through my office doorway and view the children as they do their very best to assume the burdens of research into the newest menace that the Hellmouth has thrown at them.

The new Slayer, Faith, is currently seated with her head bent over a demon compendium and occasionally exchanging what I can only assume are witticisms with Cordelia Chase and young Master Harris. Faith is quite astonishing to me, in many ways.

Not having volunteered her age to me, and with my not having access to her records, I can only assume that she is young, as are most Slayers. Possibly somewhere between her fifteenth and eighteenth year - most slayers are called at sixteen, however that is hardly without exception. I do know from her mannerisms that she is younger than the hardness in her eyes and adulthood in her carriage would often suggest.

Faith is a curious, to me, mixture of bravado and surprising vulnerability, coupled with what I sense to be an innate toughness that is fascinating to me.

Of course, from the few glimpses that she has given to me of her past, that toughness would have to be there, else she would not have survived to be here. Her Watcher apparently slain before her eyes, herself captured by a dangerous vampire, and then her escape followed by her no doubt epic - and successful - trek across a continent to this place. All of those speak of a truly formidable and resourceful young woman. Her mannerisms, and the glimpses of deeply hidden self-doubt and fear in her eyes speak to me of a young woman who has no idea just how remarkable that resourcefulness and evident toughness and strength of will truly is.

On short observation, Faith is wary, often prickly, occasionally hostile, and I believe that she hides a great deal of herself behind masks of sarcastic and/or rough humour to shield herself. Watching her in moments when she believes herself unobserved, she is constantly watchful and weighing of everything and everyone about her. There seems to be a part of her that longs for connections with the world about her, but she appears to shield herself from those very connections assiduously with mannerisms I fear she may not even be aware of.

I can only speculate upon the things that might have ingrained that caution, and those defenses, in one so young. I do know that no one arrives at that place without having been wounded deeply from early on, until wariness and distancing become second nature.

I maintain, and do believe, that Buffy Summers is a remarkable slayer. It is my belief, one that unfortunately isn't completely shared by my colleagues, that Buffy has the potential to be a truly great slayer: one that is only rarely seen in a century or more.

Having spoken with and observed Faith, and having been appraised of some of the circumstances surrounding her flight from Boston, it is my view that she also may prove to be one of the true greats of her century. Possibly another of the greatest slayers, the type who's name becomes legend in the annals of the Watchers. I really am quite looking forward to attempting to train and work with her.

I find myself humbled at the thought that I may have been blessed to know not one, but two of the most remarkable creatures it has ever been my pleasure to encounter.

And, I fear greatly that I may prove to not be up to this challenge, and this precious gift. I have not, after all, done such an excellent job at supporting and guiding Buffy Summers that I can feel sanguine about my ability to teach and help yet another challenging, difficult, and remarkable young woman.

Or, indeed, any of these children. I am not a paternal man, I know this. I have little experience with children, and often small liking for them. The small group that have attached themselves to first Buffy, and now Faith, are among the very worst of the breed: not children, but teenagers of all things - young men and women on the cusp of growing into adulthood.

Quite frankly, they terrify me. I find both their enthusiasm and their shining bravery to be intimidating. More intimidating is the knowledge that I am quite not up to the task of acting as any kind of mentor, or father figure, as so many of them seem to require: I was trained as a Watcher, not as a paternal substitute. I have never wished to have children nor to be a parent.

This is not the first time that I have observed that the training of Watchers is sadly out of step with the realities of the battlefield into which we are thrust to flounder about.

I watch them interacting with Faith, and listen in on snatches of their conversation over their encounter with that demon last night, and find myself continually forced to re-evaluate the dynamics of this little group. Faith's tentative and yet obviously (to me) growing friendship with Cordelia Chase astonishes me. I couldn't possibly imagine two more dissimilar young women. I can see that I must yet again readjust my thinking to the reality that there may well be more to Miss Chase than I had believed from her apparently shallow and self-centered surface demeanors. I am already aware that there are depths to Faith that I cannot imagine.

I often wonder if I truly know who any of these children really are.

On the morrow, I must make contact with the Watcher's Council and that utter prat Quentin Travers to discuss Faith's arrival and her circumstances. I am very much not looking forward to it. That pillock, Travers, embodies all that to me is the worst of what parts of the Council has grown into over the late nineteenth and twentieth century. He sees the Slayer as a weapon, rather than as the remarkable young woman within the weapon.

I have come to see that it is the young woman who makes the Slayer what she is, rather than a... component of a potentially discardable and easily replaceable device. She for whom the Council exists, rather than the converse. It is a possibly irreconcilable difference in our perspectives.

However, I cannot lapse too long in this duty. My charge requires the support of the Council for support and sustenance, and in resources to help her fight - and those can only be gained as of this time via Travers and his ilk. I cannot, indeed will not, fail yet another charge.

May the Gods help us all and deliver us from pillocks.

- Rupert Giles, Watcher; In this Year of Our Lord 1998, August the 3rd.

...

Sunnydale High School library, early evening.

"Hey Giles, what's up?" Faith looked up from the tome she was thumbing through in a rather desultory fashion, glad for the distraction. In her opinion, once you get past the racy illustrations of naked demons, there wasn't much more boring than page after page of monster descriptions. Especially not when they all seemed to be written in life sucking British academese.

"I believe I may have located something similar to what you and the others described," Giles responded. He smiled as heads came up all over the library from their various locations, research dulled eyes sparkling with interest - and probably relief.

"Well, finally," Cordelia said, closing her book with a slight shudder. "I was going to undergo brain melt if I had to look at yet another grainy drawing of the Crawling Drooler."

"I am relieved that I may be able to spare you from that misfortune, Cordelia," Giles said. He opened the demonary at the place his finger was marking and set it down on the table.

"You should be," Cordelia favored him with one of those brilliant smiles she seemed to have an endless supply of, but dole out sparingly at best - at least the sincere ones. "ow!"

Judging from Faith's movement and smirk, that must have resulted from an under table kick at the cheerleader. "Be grateful, Cordy. Man's just trying to save you from manicure damage."

"Bitch," Cordelia said, winking to take at least some of the sting out. Faith smirked again as she leaned forward, along with Xander, to look at the illustration.

"Hrrm. Close, but no cigar maybe?" Faith frowned. "Whatta you think, Xan?"

Xander and Cordelia scrutinized the page, Xander nodding finally. "Real close. But not quite."

"Hrrm?" Giles lowered his glasses slightly to peer at them over the tops. "Drat. I had been so sure. Are you certain?"

Willow came over from her terminal to pull the book over so she and Oz could examine it while Xander, Faith, and Cordelia thought about it for a moment.

"Yeah, but real close," Cordelia nodded. "The one we fought had, like, flat teeth, not pointed fangs. And it had like, wild tufts of long orange hair on its head - this one's bald."

"Other than that, real close." Faith stated.

"Hmm." Giles straightened as Willow and Oz nodded, confirming Cordelia's corrections. "Xander? Could you please go to the stack of new books in my office, and retrieve for me the copy of Barlow's Guide to the Extraplanar, Volume Two?"

"Sure thing," Xander left the table and went around the counter to disappear into Giles office. he came back out several minutes later with a thick volume in one hand.

"Excellent, yes. Thank you," Giles smiled at the boy and opened the book, quickly turning pages until he found the section he wanted. "Perhaps more like this?"

"Whoa - color illustrations, yet. Wicked," Faith glanced at the page, and nodded. "Yeah. 'Xactly like." Willow and Oz leaned over and confirmed her identification.

"Fascinating," Giles removed his glasses and began rubbing the lenses.

"What?!" Cordelia looked at him impatiently. "Share with the rest of the class?" She huffed, "We were the ones only almost killed by it, you know. No hurry." Faith grinned at her and shook her head.

"Quite. I was merely pausing to marshal my thoughts, Miss Chase," Giles shot her a reproving look that slid off immediately. "It would appear to be a Durslar Beast - an extra-planar demonic entity that is possessed of great physical power and ferocity."

"Well, duh!" Cordelia rubbed her rear, wincing slightly, "We knew that. Except for the Drowsular part."

"Durslar," Giles corrected absently. "Fascinating because the Durslar are predominately brute killers - they're not known for performing blood rituals such as the Blood Eagle, nor really for tormenting their kills."

"More: 'Beat, rend, tear, kill, eat'?" Faith said.

"Quite," Giles nodded.

"So, someone summoned it and is sending it out and making it do the Blood Eagle thing?" Willow said. "Eeew."

"Yes, it would seem so," Giles said. He began, "Have you identi- " at the same moment Faith started to ask, "How do I k- " and stopped, motioning Faith to continue.

"How do I - we - kill it?" Faith finished.

"Other than the fact that it is very strong, has tough skin, and is formidable, there a-a-are no specific challenges to or requirements for killing a Durslar Beast that I am aware of," Giles said. "Decapitation would suffice."

"Cool," Faith said, nodding. "Can do that."

"Except for last night," Cordelia supplied, studying her nails. Faith scowled at her, folding her arms.

"Ahem," Willow cleared her throat, asking, "What were you going to ask me, Giles?"

Giles gave her a grateful look. "Ah... yes. Have you managed to use that device to identify the latest victim?"

"oh! Yeah," Willow jumped up and trotted back to her computer. She made a face, sitting back down, "A-a-and also found another victim. From later that night after we ran into it." Faith's scowl deepened even further.

Cordelia unexpectedly put a hand on Faith's forearm and said quietly, "We weren't exactly in any shape to go after it again. Not your fault." Xander caught the exchange, and raised a surprised eyebrow, but otherwise didn't remark on it.

Instead, Xander clasped Faith lightly on the shoulder saying, "Yeah. You were seeing three Cordy's, Cordy was limping and all banged up, and me and Oz were trampled." It didn't exactly clear Faith's scowl, but she nodded abruptly after a few moments.

Oblivious, Willow was saying, "All of the bodies were either students at Kent, or a former student in one case."

Faith looked up, and over at her. "So odds are someone going there conjured it," she said.

"Quite probably," Giles said, nodding. "Hrrmm... Willow, could you start err, searching for connections between the three victims and to others, now that you have several?"

"Already on it," Willow nodded.

"That's my Will," Xander grinned.

"Occurs to me that extra-planar demons are generally enraged at being summoned for human purposes," Giles mused.

Faith's eyes snapped around to him, "So maybe they pissed it off royally when they called it?"

"Oooh! And if they weren't careful -" Willow began...

"It could have broken loose and determined to make examples of the conjurer and the others in his or her circle, yes," Giles finished.

"Oh! I could, like, widen the search to include deaths connected to Kent where maybe the Blood Eagle thing didn't make the police or morgue files," Willow said. "Because sometimes private schools have enough influence to keep things covered up so as to not cause parents and alumni to freak."

"Very good idea, thank you, Willow," Giles said, getting a beaming smile from the hacker.

"Watcher's pet," Faith smirked, getting a scowl from Willow.

"Oh, and your observations as well, Faith," Giles added. "Most helpful in narrowing the culprit down."

"Watcher's pet," Xander smirked and nudged Faith with his elbow. She scowled and thumped him on the shoulder, but grinned and winked at Willow.

"Ok, so, like, if that's the case, once it tracks down the people who summoned it, it'll go back where it came from?" Cordelia frowned, "Sounds like a death by stupidity thing to me. No big loss."

"And ladies and gentlemen, we present to you the Darwin Award Nominees for 1998... " Xander began, getting a grin from Cordelia and an outraged look from Willow.

"Err, quite. A bit callous, but poetic," Giles coughed and removed his glasses and began polishing them, "However, there is no guarantee that once it is finished with its summoners, it will leave rather than continuing to wander about killing in a more prosaic fashion."

"So we still need to kill it," Faith stated. "No change."

"Err, yes," Giles said. He replaced his glasses and looked at them, "However, I believe that you should wait upon the results of Willow's endeavors and take a night away from this to, errr, recover a bit more before encountering it again. Perhaps taking time to review the last encounter and plan how best to deal with the creature."

"Well, this search is going to take awhile," Willow said, a bit doubtfully. Faith scowled and started to object...

"Good. A night away from monster hunting won't hurt," Cordelia put in. "I say we come back with more info and a plan."

"Quite," Giles nodded. He caught the rebellious glint in Faith's eye and interjected gently, "Faith, I am aware that you both dislike the idea that this thing may kill again, and perhaps wish a second try at it, however I would prefer that you come to it fully rested and prepared." He paused, "I would hate to see you injured from letting your sense of responsibility drive you to hasty actions."

It wasn't the words, but the note of weary caring in Giles' tone that shut Faith's mouth with a click. "Right," she said, scowling.

"And it will give me some time to myself to work on your evaluation and training curriculum," he added. Faith's lips twitched slightly, threatening to break out of her scowl into a slight smile.

Cordelia gave Giles a speculative look, and a very slight, almost unnoticeable nod of approval. "So," she clapped her hands briskly. "Something summer vacation-like while Willow's search thing is running?"

"Grab some DVD's and pizza and go watch them?" Xander suggested. "Movie party at Cordy's place!"

"Ah! And why my place, Harris?" Cordelia asked.

"Well, Willow's folks will psychoanalyze us. Buffy's mom would probably like the company, but she had a art thing in Frisco to go to," Xander said. "We could go do it at mine, but -"

"Right," Cordelia cut across him. "As if." She sighed, "Get one single drop of pizza sauce on the carpet, Harris, and you'll wish that demon had eaten you last night."

"Yes'm." Xander quirked a half-grin. "Best floor eating manners, coming up."

"Want a ride, Faith?" Cordelia tossed out, gathering her purse and other items together.

"Huh?" Faith gave her a startled look. "You guys want me to come?"

"No, I just wanted to invite you so I could laugh cruelly and go 'psyche!' when we got to the car," Cordelia rolled her eyes. "You kill with us, you do books with us - you get dragged to the dweebo functions with us so I can watch you suffer instead of suffering alone."

"I think you should go for the 'cruel laughter and the psyche!' thing, Faith," Xander said. "This is frightening." He exchanged raised eyebrow looks with a slightly gaping Willow.

Cordelia slapped him on the back of the shoulder, "No, I'm saving that for you when we get to the car. It's more satisfying."

"Right," Faith nodded. "Movies at the Queen's palace." She hid a surprised grin by letting her hair fall forward as she followed Cordelia out.

Xander took his time gathering his things together so he could whisper to Oz and Willow, "Cordelia's being nice? It's like she's been replaced by an actual human being or something?"

Oz said, "Hellmouthy," with a slight eyebrow lift. He pursed his lips thoughtfully, "Willow and I'll go for the pizza run and meet you there." Xander nodded and dug some crumpled fives and a ten out of his pocket and handed them over before heading after Faith and Cordelia.

Giles watched them go, shaking his head slowly. He pulled off his glasses and chewed absently on the end of one frame arm. "Remarkable," he murmured, softly.