Slouching Towards Bethlehem
Chapter Fourteen: I've Only Got Eyes for You:
"What?" Dawn asked, nearly dropping the carton of eggs. "What did you say?"
"The Watcher's Council is gone?" Anya asked, watching the small television with worried eyes.
"Well," Giles said, "I do imagine there are some Watchers spread throughout the globe. After all, the First can't have killed them all yet," he added, more to himself than the others. "But those demolished buildings you see on the screen there," he said, indicating to the television, "were the Council headquarters in London." His eyes shined distantly as he said, "There were dormitories there, for Potentials, Watchers, and Watchers-in-training. Meeting rooms, kitchens, training rooms. The inventory of weapons and mystical paraphernalia was truly incredible," he added. "They had weapons that were centuries old. And the library," he sighed. Running a hand through his thinning hair, he said, "The library was spectacular."
"And it's all gone," Dawn surmised.
"All dust and ash in that rubble," Giles said. His eyes misted over, but he blinked and cleared them. "I can't say who was there at the time. I'm certain Watchers have been sending their threatened Potentials there, thinking that those buildings would be an indomitable fortress in a time of danger. It always has been."
"Theoretically," Anya said, "for all we know, the four Potentials in this house could be the only ones left."
Giles looked up at her grimly. Silence held the kitchen until he said, "I would sincerely hope not."
"Me too," Anya replied shortly. "But we don't know. Not now."
"So what do we do?" Dawn asked, chills raising the flesh of her arms. "Do we put out some kind of message? You know, if you're a Potential and you're on the run from the blind monks with pointy objects, come on down to Sunnydale where you'll find fun, sun, and all kinds of fresh ways to die?"
"That's actually not a bad idea," Giles said distractedly.
Dawn snorted. "Seriously? Did you hear a word I said?"
He waved at her dismissively. "Of course I heard all of the sarcastic nonsense. But the first part was actually bloody brilliant. We can send a message through the Coven for all the remaining Potentials and Watchers."
"Bring everyone to Sunnydale," Anya commented. Glancing around the kitchen, she added, "We're going to need a bigger house."
……………………..
With Kennedy finally sleeping soundly upstairs, Willow wandered down to the living room, where she found Xander reinforcing the windows. After the attack, he had reinforced all of the doors. Despite the protection spell Willow had put on the house, he wasn't satisfied. He thought that the windows were too vulnerable. He didn't want to cover them completely; sequestering the house in darkness would only dampen the spirits of everyone living inside of it. But he wanted to cover enough of the windows to prevent someone from jumping through them, leaving a foot or two of open space through which the sun could shine. Though Spike hadn't been in forefront of Xander's mind when the carpenter decided to embark on his project, the vampire living in the basement clearly benefited from less light filtering into the house.
"How's it going?" Willow asked, sitting on the armchair as she watched her oldest friend measure out planks of wood.
"Good," Xander replied, smiling over at her. "I'm almost done the living room. I'll hit the kitchen next. Hopefully finish that up today. Move onto the dining room tomorrow and then the bedrooms."
"I know Buffy appreciates you doing this," Willow said.
Xander nodded. "I think we'll all feel safer now."
"I know I will," Willow said warmly.
"How's Kennedy doing?" Xander asked, glancing over at her.
"She's asleep," Willow replied.
Her dark haired friend nodded. "You and her seem awfully close," he noted.
Willow narrowed her eyes. "Uh huh," she replied.
"You're spending a lot of time with her," he continued.
"Xander Harris," Willow drawled threateningly, "where are you going with this?"
"I'm just saying," he said, throwing up his hands defensively, "you don't know her that well. You sure it's such a good idea getting so close to her so quickly?"
"She's only sleeping in my bed because she's injured," Willow explained. "Nothing's happened."
"I find that hard to believe," Xander said, then chuckled nervously when Willow glared at him.
"Why do you say that?" She asked.
"Nothing," Xander replied. "Shouldn't have said it."
"Xander," Willow stated.
"Okay, fine," he said, putting down his measuring tape and pencil. "She's flirty, that's all. I kinda figured her to be the quick moving type. Kinda like Faith. I guess I was wrong."
"You are wrong," Willow said. "She's not like that at all. But," she added, knowing that Xander was only concerned for her well-being, "I can see why you would think that. She seems an awful lot like Faith, you know, before Faith went psychotic on us. But she's really not."
"It's just a front," Xander surmised.
"Yeah," Willow replied. "She's a Potential Slayer. She's been trained to be tough. So she acts tough."
"And bratty," Xander slipped in.
Willow rolled her eyes. "But she has a good heart."
"I know," Xander said, smiling lopsidedly.
"How do you know?" Willow asked doubtfully.
"Because you wouldn't like her if she didn't," he said simply, shrugging.
Willow smiled widely, her eyes sparkling. "You need any help?" She asked.
"Yeah, actually," Xander replied. "Could you hold this up to the window?" He asked, motioning toward the plank.
Willow nodded. "Sure," she replied, moving over to help her best friend.
……………………………
Kennedy awoke with a start, feeling as though someone was watching her. The bedroom was dark, the blind still covering the window. She glanced over at the alarm clock and saw that it was four o'clock in the afternoon. She had kicked the covers off of her body again and she was cold. Sitting up, she stifled a gasp when her eyes rested on a person standing at the foot of the bed. What unnerved her the most was not that someone was actually standing there watching her, like she had believed when she first awoke, but that the person watching her was her.
"What the hell," she muttered, sliding away until her back was resting against the wooden headboard.
"I thought I'd try you out," the First Evil said, speaking through her voice, smiling through her lips, moving in her body as though it had for centuries.
"What are you talking about?" Kennedy asked. She hated to admit it, but she was terrified. A sheen of sweat broke out on her forehead. She curled her fingers into the bed sheets to stop her hands from shaking.
"You died," the First explained, as though speaking to a five year old, "and now I can be you whenever I want."
"Oh my God," Kennedy said lowly, her eyes widening.
"That's right," the First said. "I can be you whenever I want with whomever I want. I could go downstairs right now before you'd even have a chance to get out of this bed and I could tell that little witch you're so fond of things that would make her head spin."
"What do you mean?" Kennedy asked, her eyes narrowing.
"You see, Kenny," the First replied, using the Potential's father's favorite nickname for her, "the first time I become you, the first time I try on your skin for a little ride," it said, smiling devilishly and thrusting its hips, "I find out everything there is to know about you."
Kennedy paled. "Everything?" She asked.
"Oh yeah," the First said. "Everything. I know the names and faces of all of the girls you've fucked, which," it said, whistling lowly, "are quite a few for a girl your age. Hell, I don't even know the names of some of them. You don't either apparently. I'm sure Willow, that's her name right?" It asked dismissively. "I'm sure she would be interested to know about you're womanizing history."
"Tell her," Kennedy replied brazenly, though her voice faltered. "She's going to find out everything there is to know about me sooner or later."
"Really?" The First asked. "You're going to tell her everything then huh? About all of the girls and the drinking. How reckless you've been. What about your money? I know for a fact that you don't tell anyone about that. You're afraid people will look at you differently, expect something different from you, right? No one will understand just what it's like to be a little rich girl. You're so misunderstood," the First said mockingly. Kennedy stayed quiet. The First had nailed her biggest insecurity. The First smiled and Kennedy thought it looked repulsive, even though it was smiling on her face. "I got ya there, didn't I?" It asked. "Found your big weakness. Well, that and mommy," it said offhandedly.
"Don't you dare talk about her," Kennedy growled.
"Must have been tough for you. Little girl abandoned by her mother. And you look so much like her. Must be hard to look at yourself in the mirror. Of course, your father can't really look at you either, can he? He sees her too," the First commented.
"Shut up," Kennedy said, closing her eyes. "Just shut up."
"So much pain," the First said, moving over to her and studying her face. "I can't feel it, you know. I'm not human like you. But what it must be like to be human. You go through so much. It doesn't make any sense why you all keep trying. Why not just die? Why not just give up? Save yourselves all the pain. But no, you keep struggling. What for? For God?" It asked and laughed hatefully. "When has God ever helped you?"
"At least there is a God," Kennedy replied, glaring over at the First. "Maybe that's all that matters. There isn't just evil in the world. There's good too."
"Not very much," the First snorted. "You know, Kenny," it continued, "I've seen what you've seen. All of those memories. All of those visions. I know what you know. And from what I've seen, my friend, you don't win. So much violence surrounds you. All you saw was death."
"That and a lot of vampires," Kennedy added.
"That's right," it said. "My beautiful vampires."
Kennedy inwardly smiled. Though the First Evil had seen the images that still tumbled through her mind, it had interpreted them in a much different way. Where Kennedy saw opportunities to change the future, the First saw a future etched in stone. Kennedy opened her mouth to reply as the bedroom door opened. Willow peeked her head in to check on the Potential and jumped back, startled when she saw Kennedy sitting on the bed and standing by its side. "Will," Kennedy said, looking over at her and locking eyes with her, trying to communicate that everything was alright, "relax. It's just the First. Seems to have come up with a new parlor trick."
"You like?" The First asked, running its hands up and down its body. "Of course you do," it added, laughing with Kennedy's laugh. "You won't say it out loud, you're too modest for that, but I saw the way your eyes widened. You want to fuck her so bad you can barely breathe."
Willow reddened and Kennedy chuckled a little, but said softly, "Don't listen to it, Will. It's just spouting a bunch of shit."
The First grinned over at Kennedy. "I should go. Three's a crowd. Be seeing you soon, kid," it said, winked, and disappeared.
Willow sighed. "How long was it here?"
"Only a few minutes," Kennedy replied. "Long enough to creep me out though," she muttered.
"What did it say?" Willow asked.
"It told me that it knew everything that I know," Kennedy answered truthfully. "About my past and about the things I've seen."
"That's not good," Willow muttered.
"Actually," Kennedy replied, "I think it is. The First seemed pretty arrogant, like the things it saw in my brain only served to confirm its opinion of itself and its plan."
"It doesn't think we can change anything," Willow commented.
"So it'll be severely disappointed when we do," Kennedy said.
Willow nodded. "About what it said," she struggled to say, her face reddening again.
"Don't sweat it," Kennedy said dismissively as she rose to her feet and stretched. The hem of her shirt lifted, revealing her tanned, toned stomach. She smiled a little when she saw Willow's eyes drop to take in the view. "Everyone thinks that when they see me," she said, brushing by the witch, allowing her fingers to graze against her arm. "But I've only got eyes for you."
……………………………….
Faith stood on the kitchen, watching through the window as Buffy stretched outside. The sun was lowering in the sky, its red rays reaching out and caressing Buffy's blonde hair, illuminating it in the diminishing light. Her muscles rippled underneath of her skin, her lithe body contorting as she moved into a Yoga position. Faith felt a flood of warmth fill her, desire pumping through her veins. She wanted to tear her eyes away, do something else, anything else, than fill her mind with lustful thoughts of the older Slayer, but she couldn't. She was transfixed. She always had been. Her fingers gripped the edge of the sink and she moaned low in her throat. Closing her eyes, she slowed her breathing using a mediation technique Angel had taught her.
"Maybe you should just tell her," Dawn said, smirking, as she stood watching Faith in the kitchen doorway.
Faith jumped. "Shit, D," she said, looking back over her shoulder. "How long you been standing there?"
"Long enough to get that you're fantasizing about my sister," she shot back.
One look at Dawn told Faith that denying her statement would only get her into worse trouble. "Okay," she admitted. "You got me."
"Like I said," Dawn repeated as she moved into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door, "maybe you should just tell her."
"Tell who what?" Buffy asked, walking in through the door at that very moment.
Faith panicked and glanced pleadingly over at Dawn, who also had a look of panic on her face, though she recovered more quickly. "Just that Faith thinks it's time she went on patrol with you," Dawn made up. "I think we're all getting a little sick of her just hanging around the house," she joked.
Faith rolled her eyes in mock anger, but sighed internally with relief. "Yeah," she added.
Buffy smiled. "Funny thing. I was just thinking that myself." Faith frowned. "Not that part about being sick of you hanging around the house," Buffy backpedaled quickly, though she wasn't quite sure why she didn't want Faith thinking that anymore when she clearly did not that long ago. "The part about you and me patrolling. I was just thinking that."
"Sweet," Faith said.
"You think you can be ready in a few hours?" Buffy asked, grabbing a water bottle as Dawn handed it to her.
"Are you kidding?" Faith asked. "I'm always ready to kick a little ass."