Faith watched the Mayor's car pull away from the curb. She stayed there until it was out of sight – and then waited some more in case he came back. He didn't. Hell, he didn't need to. The Mayor was a better button pusher than Faith would ever be. In one short conversation, he'd found all of Faith's weak spots. "All" of them. What a joke.
There was only one weak spot - her name was Tara.
How had this happened? How had Tara become so important? Faith needed to go home. She had to tell Tara about the Mayor. Every breath drove Faith's anxiety higher. She didn't give in, though. Telling Tara about the Mayor was the whole reason Tara was a target. There was no way Faith could admit the Mayor's threats. If she did, the Mayor wouldn't stop with a verbal threat. He'd turn Trick or Zajicek loose on the only person Faith have ever given a damn about.
It was a classic catch-22.
With a snarl, Faith spun back to the Collar and Cuffs display window, fist raised to smash the glass in sheer frustration. But the Dominant and submissive markers sparkling in the window lights weren't to blame for her current situation. Faith's hand dropped limply to her side.
She was to blame. Faith stared at her vague reflection in the glass. That girl right there. That girl had caused every single one of her problems. And somehow that same girl would have to solve them, too.
"How?" Faith asked out loud.
Her reflection didn't answer. Faith dropped her head forward until it rested against the cold windowpane. Protecting Tara was her first order of business. If Tara wasn't safe, nothing else mattered.
The Council and the Mayor were enemies now. Although… Was it really the Council or just Wes and his stuffed-shirt friends? Buffy had passed up multiple opportunities to kill Faith during their fight. Giles had gotten a restraining order so the Council wouldn't continue to stalk Faith.
Still, what if Faith was wrong? What if Buffy and Giles were part of the Council after Faith? It wasn't worth the risk to find out. Not with Faith's and Tara's lives in the balance. So Faith would steer clear of Buffy and her team; she'd keep an eye out for the Retrieval Team and Wes because the Council would eventually find a way around the restraining order.
That meant the Mayor had shot to the top of the "threat list". He was the greatest danger because he believed Faith might tell Tara something that would help Tara beat him. It just didn't make sense. Faith pushed away from the window and resumed walking. Why was the Mayor afraid of Tara? Her magic? Her connection to the Council? Faith's mind ran like a hamster on the wheel – and got almost as far.
Faith gave up and focused on another puzzle: keeping Tara safe. There had to be a way to keep the Mayor away. Faith would keep walking until she found it.
"What are you going to do?" Trish stuffed her textbooks into her backpack and grabbed a warm brownie off the kitchen counter.
Tara concentrated on cleaning the wire whisk. Leaving food on the utensils was unsanitary.
Unfortunately, having her hands in warm, soapy water left Tara vulnerable. Trish crowded into Tara's personal space, pinning her against the sink. "It's a party, Tar. All I need to know is how many people we're allowed to invite and whether you're going to register somewhere. You have to decide in the next ten minutes. I'm already running late to meet my study group at the library."
"You don't really need a study group, do you? You're always quoting some law or case information." Tara tried to wiggle free, but Trish placed her hands on the rim of the sink. Unless Tara wanted to test out her new fighting skills, she was stuck. "I don't want a party," she said softly. "The claim…you know we…"
"Stop! Don't you lie to me, Tara Maclay. You keep saying the claim is just to keep the Council off your back. I know better. I saw you and Faith yesterday. The whole damned Bond Registration Office heated up when you kissed her. And on the street? Come on. The claim is real. I've got a bet on how long it takes for you to replace Faith's cuff with a collar."
That would never happen. Tara remembered the expression in Faith's eyes. Complete terror. And Faith had been out alone until the early hours this morning.
The door inched open slowly, and Faith slipped inside. Tara saw her, of course. She'd been waiting up…researching information on the Mayor in the living room. "Sweetie?" Tara cautioned herself not to push. Not to scream at Faith that she'd been worried about her. "Did you have dinner while you were out? I made fried chicken." Just like she'd mentioned on their way home after the ceremony.
"Ain't hungry." Faith hesitated. Her eyes darted from Tara to the hallway and back.
Tara tossed the book on her lap aside. "What's wrong?" No more beating around the bush. Slayers were never "not hungry". "What happened tonight? I felt the shields I put on you flare." Her voice crackled with authority. If the Council had broken the restraining order, Tara would flatten Watcher Wes with a single wave of her hand.
The Dominant tone got an immediate reaction from Faith. Her head dipped. "I'm fine, Tara. Nothin' happened." Then the muscles in Faith's cheeks tightened until the bones stood out through the skin. Her head came up defiantly. "Thought you said this wasn't like jail. You sure are actin' like a Warden. They put that shit in your contract with the Council? Shields? Now you're waiting up for me. I didn't sign on for that. We're just puttin' on a show, right?"
The conversation had gone downhill from there. Tara gave up on the whisk and shoved it under the tap to rinse it. "I don't want you or anyone to buy gifts we'll have to take back once the Council and the Mayor are gone." The Mayor. Goddess, that was a worry for later after Trish finally left.
"We'll buy them anyway." Pressing a quick kiss to the side of Tara's head, Trish stepped back and looped her backpack over one shoulder. "The claim will last, Tar. Trust me. I know a solid bonding when I see one." Her voice grew teasing. "So does anyone who witnessed your Dominant display on the street yesterday."
Trish waited for Tara to comment. Tara didn't. What more could she say? She couldn't share in everyone's hope and optimism. Their belief in Fate and the perfect bonding. Tara knew the truth. When the Council and the Mayor were neutralized, Faith would turn her back and walk away without a second glance.
"You don't have to register anywhere. You get more creative gifts that way anyway." Trish didn't give up. She touched Tara's shoulder lightly before turning away. "Don't forget we're partying at Top of the World. Eight sharp. I'll let Max call in the cavalry if you and Faith are even a minute late for the festivities."
If only she'd never started this charade in the first place. If only the Council and the Mayor weren't watching them so closely. Goddess, this was such a horrible mistake. Tara wouldn't force to make good on her threat, though. Maxie and the Marines wouldn't be necessary. "We'll be there," she promised softly.
"I knew you would be. No one wants Maxie to come hunting them. It's part of her charm," Trish said just before the front door closed behind her.
Tara had longed for privacy since Faith had walked out the night before. Tara had wanted…no, needed to be alone to brood. Now that Trish was gone (and Faith was home and hiding in her room), the house echoed with loneliness.
Wind whistled around the dorm. Tara huddled under a blanket with every candle she owned fluttering in the darkened room. Snatches of conversation from the hallway vied with the booming bass of a rap song next door.
A building filled with people, and Tara was just as alone as she'd been on the farm. More alone. Because her mother wasn't in the kitchen baking or even kneeling in her cage. Tara pulled her knees tighter to her chest. She hated it here. Freedom wasn't what she'd thought. It was scary. Loud. And so very lonely.
Why had Tara ever thought she could get away? She'd simply changed one solitary prison for another.
Slamming her hands on the counter, Tara forced the memory back. She wasn't a scared, lonely girl anymore. Thanks to Althenea's prodding, Tara was a real Dominant with a real submissive who needed her. Tara had friends now. A job, if the Council ever stopped hunting her and Faith.
She squared her shoulders. Running away wasn't an option now. This was no different than admitting her past to Trish or facing the Trial. Tara would face the party in a few hours and Faith's inevitable repudiation for one reason: because that was what Faith needed from her.
With determination in every stride, Tara walked down the hall and rapped on Faith's door.
It sprang open immediately. "What?" This wasn't the Faith from the claiming ceremony. This was the Faith the Council punished for her attitude and poor behavior. She glared at Tara, arms crossed over her chest in open challenge.
"I have a meeting," Tara told her coolly. Every fiber of her being responded to the poorly disguised misery in Faith's eyes. How could anyone not see Faith's cocky smirk was an act? Tara ached to hold her the way Faith had held her last night in the club. She didn't, though. She gripped her self-control with desperate strength. "The claiming party is tonight."
Faith didn't let Tara finish. "I heard.
"H-How much…" Oh, Goddess. Had Faith heard everything? All the moaning and whining about Faith and the bond?
"All of it." Of course she had. "Glad you're finally admittin' the bond ain't gonna last," Faith said. "Better for both of us."
Tara nodded. It was the best she could do. There was no way she would ever be able to truly agree with Faith's statement. "I'll see you at eight, then." Tara started to turn away and paused, pulled by a need so strong it eclipsed everything. "If you go out, be careful, my Faith." Her palm found a home against Faith's cheek, and she stroked a thumb over Faith's lips. "It would kill me if anything happened to you."
The hard lines of Faith's face softened. Her eyes warmed. "T…"
"Be careful." Tara turned the gentle warning into a command. Maybe it would have enough force to make a difference. With a final caress, Tara turned and walked away.
Joyce must have been watching for her. The front door to the Summers' home sprang open before Tara made it up the porch steps. "Hurry inside." She scanned the sidewalk before quickly closing the door behind Tara. "I see you still have your new friend."
"He followed me all the way here." Just far enough back not to break the restraining order. "Are you s-sure this is a good idea?" Tara didn't follow Joyce farther into the house. She stayed in the foyer. This was a terrible plan. "I'll just leave Giles' books here and go."
"Honey, you're already here. The damage, if there is any, is already done." Joyce came back and wrapped an arm around Tara's shoulders. It gave her leverage which she used to pull Tara into the living room. "Besides, technically I'm not part of the Council. I'm only a volunteer who owns an art gallery. As long as Buffy and Rupert aren't here, I'm not violating anything."
Nothing except Tara's personal space.
"Neither is Willow," Joyce continued when Tara dug her heels into the carpet at the sight of the other witch.
"Joyce, you said you wanted to talk about the Mayor. About what you'd learned." There had been nothing in that brief phone call the previous night to indicate Joyce was planning her own research party.
Unfortunately, Joyce was a force of Nature. Tara ended up on the couch right next to Willow. "We've learned a lot, Tara," Willow said earnestly. "But it's an incomplete picture. We were hoping you could help us fill in some of the gaps." Shoving her laptop at Tara, she pointed to the information on the screen. "See? We think this is the ritual the Mayor was working on after looking at the box he had delivered to the airport. The Box of Gavrok."
Tuning out the rest of Willow's explanation, Tara concentrated on the website Willow had displayed. Some of the article was familiar from her previous research sessions. The rest was mind blowing. It was all guesswork. Whoever had written the article had no proof. But he or she had a vivid imagination. "This…this shouldn't be possible."
"That's what I thought until we opened that creepy Box." Willow's shudder drew Tara's attention. "Spiders. It was filled with spiders. Big, nasty ones that moved really fast."
Spiders. Tara went back to the online article. "'Eating certain species of demons is said to speed the process of preparing the host for the transformation.'"
"Spider demons? Transformation?" Willow gazed imploringly at Tara. "That's what we can't figure out."
Tara stared back at her in confusion. How was she supposed to know? She might be able to make a potion or cast a spell. That was it. "Willow, I don't know anything about people becoming demons."
Now Willow's eyes shifted. She wiggled and twitched. Cleared her throat. It didn't take a genius or a Super Dominant to figure out Willow was hiding something. Leaning forward, Tara murmured, "You have a plan, don't you?" and had the satisfaction of seeing Willow flinch. "A plan that you need me for. Isn't that right?" Her quiet voice didn't disguise the snap to the final question.
"Yes." The word seemed dragged out of Willow. She didn't want to tell Tara for some reason, yet she couldn't hold out against Tara's Dominance.
"What do you think I can do, Willow?" Tara kept her voice low, but infused it with every bit of her bottled fear and frustration. She was tired of being a pawn, and now even Willow, her first friend from the House, wanted to use her.
The truth was worse than Tara could have possibly imagined. "You…you can't do anything. But Faith can." Willow managed to drag her eyes up to meet Tara's for a second. "She works…"
"Worked," Tara snapped, her control slipping. "Faith worked for the Mayor. Past tense."
"Enough! Both of you!" Joyce was miles beyond Tara on the Dominance scale. Tara shuddered under the force of the words while Willow took to her knees on the floor. "This isn't solving anything. Tara, honey, we hoped you would ask Faith to help us. To tell us what she might know about the Mayor."
Faith's lungs burned. Even Wes would have been impressed with her speed and endurance. After Tara left, Faith had fled the house. She needed to move, to run, to feel free. Running hadn't worked. Faith had been trapped by life since birth. Her mother, the Council, and the Mayor. They'd controlled her. Used her.
Now Faith was trapped by her own choices. She'd gone to the Mayor. She'd told Tara to claim her. And those two decisions had put Tara in danger.
She just didn't know how to fix it. Not yet.
Faith needed to think. Good thinking required a vampire or demon to kill – or a good heavy bag. Trish and Maxie weren't the physical type. They didn't have a set of weights, let alone a bag. Altering course, Faith cruised through town to the dojo. Plenty of bags and willing sparring partners there.
"Welcome back, Faith." The lead instructor (Faith couldn't remember his name) sat behind the desk in the entry hall. "Are you and your Dominant here for class? I'm afraid the adult class isn't for another hour." Faith's scowl was automatic – and it made the instructor laugh. "It's not that bad. The Tiger Cubs have a lot of enthusiasm. Come on. You're trained enough to help out. I could use an extra instructor tonight."
He was crazy. "I ain't good enough to teach."
"Really?" Despite the glittering sterling silver collar around his neck, the guy didn't back down for shit. He maneuvered Faith to the door of the changing room. "Gear up."
And just like that, Faith found herself in her gi and on the mat in time to line up with a class of miniature ninjas. "Tiger Cubs, we have a special guest tonight. Please welcome Miss Faith, who is here to teach you discipline and honor."
Faith thought he was joking until she looked at his calm, serious expression. That was not the face of a man who understood humor.
"Now, please bow to me and allow me to bow to each of you." Hands in the proscribed position, the instructor bowed. Faith followed suit and watched the raggedy line of kids echo the movement. When everyone was upright again, the instructor dropped to his knees. "Let's meditate."
The sound of kids falling to the mat filled the room. Faith watched the class from partially-closed eyes. There was a whole lot of horseplay going on. She broke position and pointed at a pair of boys who had crept close to each other. With wide grins, they scurried back into place and knelt (more or less still) until the instructor let everyone stand.
"OK, Cubs. Yellow and orange belts with me. White belts with Ms. Faith." The bastard grinned at Faith's shock. "Walk them through the basic punches and kicks. None of them have been here more than a couple of times. If you need more material, let me know." And then he walked away, leaving Faith with four tiny warriors looking at her like she was a hero.
If she survived this class, Faith vowed to kick the instructor's ass from one end of Sunnydale to the other.
