Faith was sick and tired of walking through downtown. The next time she had nothing to do but burn time, she was heading for the beach. She was over the thrill of the Sun Cinema. What movie theater played the same damned movie for four months? Her eyes skated across the ticket booth and landed on the big digital clock in one corner.
Shit! How the Hell had she forgotten? She didn't have time to burn; she was fucking late for her date with the Cubs! Faith took off for the dojo as if all the vampires in Sunnydale were on her heels. Only Slayer speed got her inside and into her gi with minutes to spare. Mr. Sam shook his head and mimed glancing at a watch as Faith hurriedly bowed onto the mat, still sucking wind. "Cutting it close. Not a good example for the Tiger Cubs."
"Think I tried to tell you that last night when ya' offered me a job," Faith snapped back. What the Hell? She was here, right? She'd given up plans for a whole lot of nothing to come teach a bunch of little kids. Then she saw Sam's smirk. The bastard. She gave him her best Slayer Glare – and he threw back his head and laughed. Faith obviously needed to practice her glare. "I'm gonna teach the kiddies to kick your a…" One of the Cubs ran up, and Faith changed her word choice automatically. "…butt."
"Exactly why I hired you." Sam appeared more than satisfied with his choice of instructor. "Now, let's get started."
Drifting to the far side of the mat, Faith took up her position. Class was different this time. It was still weird. Faith had to resist looking around for the real instructor every time one of the students bowed in her direction. But the energy and boundless enthusiasm were the same. Marshalling her four-pack of tiny warriors in front of the mirror, Faith watched their form like a hawk. She drilled them ruthlessly; although, the Cubs must not have understood the meaning of "ruthless" since the youngest Cub spent more time untying his white belt and trailing it on the floor than he did learning to punch or kick.
The class was over so quickly. Faith waved as the kids stampeded off the mat to their waiting parents (every last one of them remembering to bow first). The rest of the day loomed ahead, promising only boredom.
"Ready for your private lesson?" Faith spun and stared at Sam. He'd donned a padded leather vest that covered his chest and ribs as well as padded headgear. "We haven't trained together. I want to test your skills. Sending you through a beginner class kept your Domme from quitting on her first day, but I don't think you're white belt material."
No shit. "Um…" Faith searched for a polite way to say she'd mop the floor with him.
Sam beat her there. "Slayer speed will trump my training most days." Every day, in Faith's mind. "Part of your training, though, has to be control. If we slow your movements down, we can perfect them. Once you speed them back up, there won't be anything with the skill to take you down." Tilting his head, he examined her. "Let's get you geared up. I don't want to see that Lady of yours in full form because I bruised you too badly. Besides, Lyn would kill me."
Lyn, the tiny chick from their first class? There had to be a good foot difference between her and Sam. Faith didn't say anything, though. Most people probably discounted Tara because she was so nice and shy. They'd never met Lady Tara. She wasn't shy; she was just plain scary. And hot.
Walking across the mat, Sam pulled a pair of gloves and shin guards off the gear wall. "Try these. The gloves are really more for grappling than true sparring, but they'll give you more options than just punching."
He waited patiently while Faith tore open the plastic packaging and awkwardly strapped the shin guards on. The gloves were easier. Faith's bag gloves back at the House had been similar. When she was ready, Sam led them back to the center of the mat. "Rules for today: half speed only – for you. Nothing, no kicks or punches, above the head – also for you. Once we've worked together a few times, we'll talk about changing that." Facing Faith, he bowed.
She bowed back and mirrored Sam's fighting posture. It wasn't Faith's usual head-on style. Not to mention it was a sorry excuse for sparring. They danced and circled for what felt like hours. All Sam did was watch Faith. Finally, she got tired of playing. Her punch felt so slow. Was this how normal people fought?
Sam easily blocked it. Faith never even saw his counter punch until it hit the shields Tara had placed on Faith. With a grunt, Sam pushed through the barrier and his gloved hand finally tapped her in the jaw. He didn't appear angry at the protective barrier and he didn't give Faith any time to be upset with getting bested on their first exchange. "When you throw a punch, your other hand should automatically drift up to guard your head." He demonstrated, gloved hand hovering near his chin, elbow tucked near his side. "Otherwise, you leave yourself open." He punched at Faith, and this time, she noticed his free hand stayed down and his head was exposed.
They circled some more. Faith found her rhythm as they exchanged punches and kicks. Sam was good. Buffy good without the super speed and nasty habit of trying to kill Faith. He got inside Faith's guard despite the shield, landing controlled blows to her head, chest, and ribs. His kicks were worse. Taller than Faith, he often stood outside her range and found multiple targets.
He never got angry with her for not blocking. For not seeing how vulnerable she'd left herself. Sam didn't bitch when Faith landed punches and kicks in return. He bounced back to his feet every time she knocked him over. And when he stepped away and bowed, ending the lesson, Faith grinned. "That rocked."
Sam grinned back. "It did. If you can get rid of the invisible Jell-o around you," he teased, "we'll spar at least once a week, probably after the kids' class on Saturdays. We'll have the dojo to ourselves so you won't have a gaping audience. We'll use the adults' classes during the week to work on the material. Have your Domme talk to Lyn the next time she's in class. I don't want to infringe on any plans she has for you. The truth is, Faith, you're not a white belt, but we're sticklers here. You don't get a new belt without passing the testing. I'll make sure you know the actual test material, and we'll put you through your paces in a couple of weeks."
Testing was bad. Faith failed tests.
As if sensing her concerns, Sam laughed. "We don't test students we don't think will pass. I'm not here to humiliate you, Faith. You'll work harder than you dreamed possible, but you'll absolutely know your stuff. That's why I'm here." His expression grew evil. "My other personal student swears I was a sadist in another life."
Tara had told Faith she could level the Slayer HQ in Boston. She was a powerful witch. An Adept. A giant among Smurfs in the magical world. When her father whipped open the crate door and reached inside, though, Tara was nothing more than a terrified child.
Her kicking feet did nothing to stop a large hand from wrapping around her ankle and pulling. Thanks to the cuffs, Tara couldn't grab onto anything (not that there was anything in the bare crate). That didn't keep her from trying. Her nails scraped the plastic, touching gouges left years ago as her mother fought a similar battle to stay inside the hated cage.
Inside and away from her father.
Inch by inch, Tara slid toward the door. "Stop fighting. It won't do you any good." An open-hand slap stung Tara's thigh as it emerged from the crate. "It will only make your punishment worse. I warned you what would happen if you ever ran from me."
Her mother's body was gone. Donny had dragged it out of the living room. Tara had heard him grunt and then the front door had opened and closed. "Get up!" Her father used a fistful of Tara's shirt to drag her to her feet. "What did that bitch tell you? That she'd get you off the farm? Away from me?" He was furious, face red with anger.
Tara struggled against his hold. She wouldn't tell him anything.
"You listen to me, and you listen good. You'll never get away. It doesn't matter if you make it off this farm; you belong to me. I will find you." His smile turned Tara's blood cold. "And when I do, you'll think what happened today was a walk in the park."
He was going to kill her. Tara knew it. She kicked out, enjoying his hiss of pain when her heel made contact with his shin.
"I thought you told the guy we'd take her out of state before playing." Tara's tiny sense of triumph withered and died as her brother Donny appeared at the cage door. She might have gotten lucky and slipped away from her father if he'd been alone. With her father paired with Donny, Tara didn't stand a chance.
"What that bastard doesn't know…" Her father laughed, and Donny grinned in response. Two terrible peas in a very rotten pod. "Grab the gear from the truck. This place is far enough away from town for our needs. We'll have her screaming in no time."
Tara's head thunked onto the concrete floor as she cleared the crate door. It hurt, but she knew it was nothing compared to what waited. Reaching inside, Tara gripped her remaining magic. Damn her arrogance for not giving Willow's "new magic" a try. Even if she threw raw energy at her father and brother, Tara didn't think it would be enough to take them both out. Her focus remained on that latent power as Donny took over from their father and dragged her across the concrete warehouse floor by her ankles.
Pushing fear aside, Tara gathered all of the droplets of power together. She had to move quickly. Donny's breath was hot on her neck as he held her against a wall with his body weight. Her father had already wrapped a manacle around one of her wrists. Tara allowed herself one final touch on her link with before shunting the magic through the bond and sealing it with all the skill at her command. "I love you, Faith."
"Nah, I've met bastards like that. You ain't nothing like them." Sam wasn't like Zajicek or any of the johns who'd paid her mother for an hour or so with Faith. "You had lots of chances to kick my ass today and you didn't. Learned more sparrin' with you than I did the whole time I worked for the Council." It was easy to talk to Sam. Faith didn't think twice about admitting she'd left the Council and that she'd been less than happy with her role there.
"You'll be able to kick my butt in no time." Sam pushed Faith toward the door. "Now go home and take a shower. You stink and you're dripping sweat all over my mat – which I still need to clean."
Faith had shared a lot with Sam for a guy she'd just met a few days ago. She wasn't going to tell him that she had no place to go if she left the dojo. "Whatever. Show me what ya' need done. Slayers are good for more than killing shit. Bet I can…" Her words cut off as a ball of heat exploded in her mind. "What the fuck?"
Sam pointed at her. "You're glowing."
Damned if he wasn't right. Blue light brightened the air around Faith. Heat zinged through her body until her skin ached as if she'd fallen asleep at high noon on the beach with no suntan lotion.
That's when she heard it. One quiet comment. "I love you, Faith."
"Tara?" The link was open. Faith could feel Tara. Feel all that love aimed her way, but there was something behind it. Something Faith couldn't name. Then the link slammed closed with so much force that Faith grabbed her head.
"Faith?" Sam was there, eyes concerned. "What's wrong?"
Fire seared Faith's back before she could answer. A scream tore from her throat in time for another line of burning pain to erupt. Faith knew that feeling. Knew it well. Where was it coming from?
"Faith!" Sam was losing it. Her voice had risen and he shook her until she met his gaze. "What's happening?"
"I don't…I don't know." The pain was constant now. One line of pain stacked on top of another. "Tara…the magic…whip…" Faith knew she wasn't making sense. Crumpling to the mat, she let the agony envelop her. Fighting it wouldn't help. She'd done that all her life and gotten nowhere. "Something's wrong, Sam. It's like you got me strung up and're taking my skin off with a bullwhip," she choked out.
Pulling her chin up, Sam asked urgently, "Where's your Domme? Concentrate, Faith! Once you know where she is, we can call the police."
Tara? What did Tara have to do with anything? It was so hard to think through the pain. Nothing in Faith's life had ever been this bad. Sam pulled her off the ground and shook her again. Concentrate. OK. It must be important. Faith closed her eyes and did her best to ignore each new, mental strike of the whip.
Mental. Son of a bitch! Tara! Tara! Faith screamed the name at the link but it was still closed. If those were Tara's emotions flowing through the bond, it wasn't intentional. Tara had locked it down tight. Faith battered at the barricade. "I can't get to her, Sam!"
"You have to keep trying!" Sam sounded like a Dominant despite the collar around his neck. "Reach for her, Faith."
He didn't know the truth. He didn't know that Faith and Tara's bond was a joke. That Faith had all but ordered Tara to stay on her side of the link. She'd never be able to find Tara. Not on her own.
Faith's options were limited when it came to help. Maxie and Trish might call in the Marines, but that took time (and was probably all bluster, anyway). The Council was out. They'd lock her up or kill her rather than help rescue Tara.
Maybe they were the ones hurting Faith. Using Tara as bait.
It was a terrifying idea. Wes would have had to act on his own, though. No way would Giles, Buffy, or Janna be part of that kind of shit. It could have been the Mayor, too. Kidnapping and torture were right up his alley. The bastard had been clear that he considered Tara a threat, and Faith knew the Mayor wasn't afraid of murder.
If the Mayor was the one holding the whip, Faith vowed to kill him if it was the last thing she did. But first, she had to find Tara. Pushing Sam away, Faith started running. Downtown was a blur. So were the neatly-trimmed yards and houses. The fiery pain had ended. No new "blows" fell.
That drove Faith to even greater speed. If whoever had Tara wasn't whipping her, he could be doing…other things. Things Faith would never allow to happen to Tara. When she leaped onto the Summers' front porch, she pounded on the door. "Open up! Open the fucking door, B!"
Seconds later, the door sprang open. "Faith! Honey, you can't…"
"I don't fucking care." Joyce had always been nice to Faith. It was the only reason Faith didn't throw Joyce bodily out of the way. Instead, she simply moved Joyce back a step and slipped inside. "Buffy!"
Buffy came out of the kitchen. "We aren't going to fight, Faith. I told you Giles and I aren't supporting the Council's plan."
Didn't anyone here believe in shutting up and listening? Faith slapped a hand over Buffy's mouth. "Somebody's got Tara. I can feel her," well, she had felt Tara, "in the bond. It ain't good, Buffy. I gotta find her." Her voice rose. She didn't have time to waste explaining. She had to find Tara. The whipping might be over, but Tara's pain oozed through the bond until Faith's nerves shuddered and jumped. "I gotta find her, only I don't know how." Faith was up in Buffy's personal space, needing the proximity to make Buffy understand. "Whatever I have to do, Buffy. I got information on the Mayor. I'll give it to you. All of it. Just…" Fear, need, helplessness drove Faith to grab Buffy and plead. "Please. Please, B. You gotta help me find her."
Buffy's eyes widened and she stiffened against Faith's hold.
No! No, Buffy couldn't say no. Faith had no one else she could go to.
"I'm sorry," Faith babbled. "I'm sorry. For everything. For every stupid fucking thing I did before." Releasing her hold on Buffy, she dropped to her knees and bowed her head. "Please," Faith was begging now. "Please. You can't…Don't make Tara pay 'cause I'm a fuck up."
"No! Faith! I wouldn't do that." Buffy hauled Faith to her feet. "Come on. Will's in the kitchen and Mom will call the rest of the gang." Faith was so dazed she stumbled after Buffy as she shoved the kitchen door open. "Will!"
"I heard." Willow sat at the kitchen table and was already reaching for her laptop. "Faith, do you have any idea who took Tara or where they might be holding her? Why would anyone want to take Tara?"
There were no accusations. No judgment. All of Faith's troubled history was left unspoken as the Scoobies launched into action. Faith had witnessed it before. It didn't matter how bitter the argument or how big the screw up, the Scoobies banded together to take care of their own.
It was the most amazing thing Faith had ever experienced because somehow, they were acting as if she was one of them. Her voice ragged with suppressed tears, she said, "I think it's the Mayor." Buffy and Willow exchanged a look; a look Faith ignored. For now. Her link with Tara was so tenuous. Tara had respected Faith's rejection of the bond. The lid Tara had slammed down was tighter than ever; her emotions were fading.
Desperate for answers, to find Tara, Faith never considered avoiding Willow's question. "He found me Thursday night. Told me I had to get Tara outta the way. I guess he didn't think I'd really do it." Peering at Willow with all her emotions on display, Faith confessed. "Whoever he hired was whippin' her! She's hurtin' so bad. I could feel it."
Willow's lips tightened. "They won't be for long." Typing like the wind, she went to work on her computer. "The Mayor's big on email. He left a trail a mile wide with Finch." Faith didn't even flinch at the sound of the name. "I'm hacking into City Hall. Maybe he emailed whomever he hired.
Beneath the click of keystrokes and Buffy's quick footfalls as she paced the kitchen, Faith heard Joyce on the phone. "…ideas, Rupert. Willow's checking the Mayor's email. I assume she's already notified Janna."
Probably not. It wasn't Willow's style. She was all about finding the answers, and Faith was familiar with Janna's less-than-enthusiastic support of Willow's hacking skills. In any other situation, Faith might have (heavy on the might) worried about getting Willow into trouble. Right now, she wanted to shout at Willow to go faster. To do more. To break and enter or hack or whatever Willow did on the computer as long as she found Tara.
"I did, Mrs. Summers," Willow called out. She lifted her head long enough to grin at Joyce. "Janna told me she'd take away my laptop and anything that ran on electricity for life if I got caught hacking City Hall." Her head dropped and her next comment was so soft Faith wondered if Willow was talking to her alone. "She didn't tell me to stop, and I won't get caught. Not this time. I'm ready for the Mayor."
"No, you're not. None of you are." It was out before Faith could censor it. Buffy stopped in mid-stride, and Willow's fingers came to rest on the keyboard. "You ain't got any idea what he is." Faith had seen the Mayor's power and she was sure that she still knew next to nothing about what he could really do.
Buffy crossed the kitchen and stood right in front of Faith. Her hand rose, hovered near Faith's shoulder, and then dropped before there was any contact. "That doesn't matter right now."
Right. Of course it didn't. The Mayor would get his ass kicked as soon as Tara was back.
Thinking of Tara jangled Faith's already jumpy nerves. Where was she? What was happening? The link was quiet, except for a constant trickle of fear and pain. And…acceptance? "No!" Faith shouted it at the blocked bond. No way. Tara couldn't give up. "Don't you fucking dare quit on me, T. I got the Scoobies trying to find you. You just gotta give us time."
There was only an echoing silence in her mind.
