"Your friend? What friend would have been looking for you at school, Giles?" Buffy demanded. "I didn't know you had any friends here." She was so panicked over Joyce talking with Snyder that she hadn't put the pieces together.
Faith had. Inching up the bed until she sat against Buffy's side, she looked at Giles. "This friend got a name, Giles? Maybe Quentin?" Her arm automatically wrapped around Buffy's shoulders when the other Slayer stiffened at her question. "You thinkin' that it ain't just a special vamp that's the surprise for tonight?"
A pained grimace was answer enough. "Before today, I would have argued vociferously against even the thought that the Council would use such methods." Giles' eyes closed and he pinched the bridge of his nose tightly. "However, after our meeting this afternoon, I must agree with your conclusions, Faith. I believe that Joyce has been taken to ensure Buffy's enthusiastic participation in the Cruciamentum."
"Enthusiasm," Buffy gritted out. She pulled away from Faith and glared at Giles. "I'm going to show the Council more than that. I'm going to do some serious ass kicking…" Her grand announcement would have carried more weight if she hadn't nearly pitched to the floor when she tried to stand up.
Faith lunged across the bed just in time to catch her. "Sit the fuck down, B." Her heart hammered in her chest and her hands were slick with sweat where they gripped Buffy's arms. The Council had Joyce. They had Joyce and Buffy was in no condition to make them pay for that.
"I can't sit down!" Buffy snapped. "Did you miss the news? They have my mom!"
Insides twisting, Faith let her hands fall away from Buffy. "I didn't miss it, B. Not the thing with Mrs. S or the way you went all weak in the knees." She could see Willow wanted to say something and held up a hand. This was between her and Buffy. If Buffy wanted to survive and keep Joyce alive, she had to stop playing Slayer Prime.
Buffy's glare transferred from Giles to Faith. "I tripped," she lied without batting an eyelash.
It was now or never. Faith started gently, saving the heavier ammunition for a last stand if necessary. "You didn't trip, Buffy. Them drugs has got you all messed up right now. You can't go after the Council on your own."
"Of course, I can." Buffy wasn't going to listen to reason.
Hating the need to hurt Buffy more than she already was, Faith pulled out the big guns. "You do, and Mrs. S is dead." The words hung in the air for a long second while Buffy's eyes grew wider and wider. "The Council don't know I'm here, B," Faith continued in a softer voice. "Let me check things out so Red and Tweed can do their thing with the plans. Don't do somethin' stupid just to prove you're still the best Slayer."
Before Buffy could say anything, Faith slid off the bed. "I'll be back," she said. Tearing her eyes away from Buffy's, she looked at Willow. "See if you can track down anything more while I'm gone."
Willow didn't even hesitate; she nodded and then immediately bent over the keyboard again.
No one said anything as Faith strode out the door and started down the stairs. Then a quavering, "Faith!" spun her around.
If it had been anyone other than Buffy calling her name, Faith might have ignored the summons. It wasn't, though, and Faith returned to Willow's bedroom. "Yeah, B?" Standing in the doorway, she scowled at the toes of her boots and waited for Buffy to tell her – once again – that she wasn't needed for this mission.
"Thanks." Faith's head snapped up at Buffy's softly whispered word. A tiny smile greeted her disbelieving look. "Sometimes I forget that there's no 'I' in team."
It took a second for Faith to find her voice. "Sure, B." When Buffy's smile dimmed a little, she scrambled to bring it back. "You're welcome." That was better, and Faith straightened and felt her own lips turn up into an answering smile. "Guess I forget it ain't just me on the court, too." With an awkward wave, she resumed her trip down the stairs.
The euphoria of that last exchange carried her almost through the front door. Then reality set in. She might have just garnered an official invitation into the Scooby gang – but, for the moment, Faith was the gang. The rest of the crew was holed up in Willow's house, or (in Xander's case) was completely oblivious to the current threat.
If Faith got caught…
That couldn't happen. Getting caught meant letting Buffy down and maybe getting her and Mrs. Summers killed. Faith responded instantly to that thought and changed direction. There might be someone watching the front of the house. She had to stop thinking like Buffy; beating the Council meant thinking like Faith and using all those not-so-legal skills she'd learned in Boston. Back doors were a much better idea.
Once outside, Faith easily scaled the wooden privacy fence and dropped into the next yard. Taking a direct route to the house Willow had indicated might be fast; however, it also had the disadvantage of possibly letting the Council know Faith was still in town. Surprise was their only advantage right now, at least until she got did some poking around. Faith cheated a little so her unorthodox trip through Sunnydale didn't take all evening. Using a fraction of her Slayer speed, she hurdled another fence.
She maintained that pace through a dozen more yards and an empty lot. Finally, Faith hugged the side of a barbershop on the edges of downtown and peered up and down Main Street. No familiar cars appeared in front or behind her. Either the Council was following on foot (unlikely), or there wasn't anyone tailing her.
Faith didn't let that stop her from continuing with care. Hands stuffed in her pockets, she walked down Main Street as if she were a normal citizen of Sunnydale. Of course, none of them scanned every car on the road, each reflection in the shop-front windows, or the rest of the passersby on the sidewalk. By the time Faith reached the intersection she needed, her nerves were frayed and her clothes were soaked in sweat. Chasing vampires was far easier than this, she ruefully acknowledged. At least they had the right idea – do the skulking and clandestine activities in the dark. Creeping around in the daylight (where people could easily see you) was much more difficult.
She went back to utilizing yards and alleys in the rundown residential area where the Council safe house was located. It was harder this time, though. There were more people at home, and clusters of kids clogged the corners and yards. Realizing the futility of trying to maintain her concealment, Faith gave up. Instead, she concentrated on using the new cover provided by the residents of the area. She slowed her pace and worked on blending in. Her threadbare jeans and T-shirt helped.
Her experience with this type of neighborhood helped more.
Ignoring the need for urgency that sent tremors through her muscles, Faith strolled down the sidewalk. She winked at a pair of teens sprawled on the porch steps of a rundown house and carefully eyed the crew of probable gang members two houses down. They eyed her back, and Faith made sure to keep the Slayer well hidden as her tension ratcheted up. They weren't her concern – as long as the four young men stayed where they were.
The back of neck prickled as she passed them and continued closer toward the Council's hideout. The house looked rundown and fit in perfectly with the rest of the neighborhood. Faith walked past it, not wanting to seem too interested in case anyone was watching from the windows. Two houses later, though, she ducked behind a car parked in a driveway and then snuck between rows of bushes into the back yard.
The move was risky. Unlike Willow's neighborhood, this one was devoid of trees. Faith was out in the open as she utilized her enhanced speed to dash across the patchy grass. Panting more from the adrenaline rush than the effort, she plastered herself against the safe house's back wall. There wasn't an entrance from this side, and the nearest window was actually boarded shut. Faith held back a snarl of frustration and crept along the battered siding. There had to be a way to look inside.
Two steps later, she froze. Her Slayer senses screamed suddenly, and the cramping nearly doubled her over.
Gasping against the unexpected feeling, Faith grimaced and made a mental note that the Council had brought in an opponent for Buffy. "Survey says," she whispered as she kept moving, "vampire." Good thing for all of them that Buffy didn't have to face the Council's pet alone. Faith looked forward to the chance to do a little Slaying, maybe show that bastard Travers her skills.
Her inner vision of that scene faded when Faith reached a grate covering a deep window well. It wasn't exactly what she'd hoped for…but it would have to do. Gripping the rusted metal, Faith carefully lifted the grate and set it in the grass. She paused and extended all of her senses as far as they would go.
The only thing on the radar seemed to be the vampire.
That was her cue to drop into the window well and examine the dirty glass. The view of the basement was obscured by the grime and the rapidly diminishing sunlight. With an impatient movement, Faith scraped some of the dirt off with her shirt tail. It helped…a little. A single light bulb dimly illuminated the concrete room.
Most of the room had all the appearances of a home remodel gone wrong. Piles of bricks and two by fours littered the floor in one corner and a half-completed wall surrounded a portion of the stairwell.
The stair well…Faith pressed her face nearly flat against the glass. The unfinished construction project didn't quite hide Buffy's probable challenge. Ensconced in what appeared to be a straight jacket, a solitary figure flung itself against the metal bars of the cage imprisoning it.
Faith's heartbeat stuttered in shock. To one side of the cage, a chair sat wedged in the corner created by the half-wall. Tied to its seat was a clearly terrified Joyce.
"No way," Faith whispered. Her right hand rose automatically, closing into a fist. One hard blow and the window was history. The fist descended in a blur, and the sound of shattering glass filled the air. Jerking back at the noise, Faith dropped into a crouch. Where the hell had that come from? Peering through the still intact window in front of her, she tried to locate the cause.
"Bloody hell, Hobson, could you possibly make any more racket?" an angry voice demanded in a muted rumble. A wedge of light illuminated the top of the stairs leading into the basement, and Faith glimpsed two figures in the doorway.
The person in front spun. "I suppose I could. The next time, though, you get to carry the drink for our friend in the cage." The patch of light widened to show the man wiping at the legs of his pants. "I hope Councilman Travers has more of that. Otherwise Kralik will have to lick his medicine off the floor."
The caged vampire roared in response. "Medicine!"
"See? You've got him all brassed off. If he keeps up that racket, we'll never hear the end of it." Putting a hand on Hobson's back, the other man shoved him back through the doorway. "Try not to drop the bloody stuff this time."
After glaring over his shoulder for a second, Hobson disappeared.
The movement attracted Kralik's attention. Twisting against the hold of his straightjacket, he called out, "Where's my medicine?" When the bonds held, he slumped against the metal bars and bowed his head. "Hurts…" His voice was more of a whine than a roar this time.
"It's coming, you bloody bastard." Faith didn't like the way the man at the top of the stairs rocked on his heels. He seemed nervous. Too nervous, considering the vampire was bound and in a cage.
Why? Faith hesitated in the window well. Maybe she should just take care of things before it got more out of hand. The odds were good. Her mind took a mental count and catalogued what she'd learned. There were at least two people in the house with Travers, plus Joyce and the vampire Kralik. She could handle that many, and Buffy would never have to crawl out of bed.