Chapter 35

The Shattering

Faith looks terrified for just one moment, a cornered animal, and her eyes flash towards the window. A picture of me picking shattered glass out of Buffy's flesh comes on a wave of fear and I grab Faiths head with both hands and pull it back to face me.

I kiss my plea for trust into her.

Her hands soften and she comes to my lips, my hand stroking hers.

"Bathroom" I say. She looks at me the same as she did the first night when she realised where I was leading her. I draw back and straighten my clothes, picking up my coffee, and walk towards the door.

"Go." I mouth to her and I open the door only as far as the chain allows.

Everything about the two people standing in the hall tells me they are agents even before the FBI ID wallet is raised. Sharp but cheap suits, the jackets cut wide to hold a gun holster, glasses… the whole deal.

"Ms. Alexandra Hart?" The woman says. She was short, with light brown skin and thick wavy hair cut to her jaw, on her chin a pinkish scar like a question mark.

"Uhm. Yeah. Yes."

"Good morning, I am Agent Phillipa Clacy, this is Agent Esther Rosenberg of the F.B.I" she indicates her partner, a taller, older woman with white skin and dirty blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail. "We are investigating the incident at the party last night."

"So quick." I say.

"We read your statement, may we come in and ask you a few more questions?"

I glance back into the room and back again. Faith is nowhere to be seen.

"Uh, actually my girlfriend isn't very well, I want to let her sleep. There is a coffee shop across the road, can we do it there?"

"Of course Ms. Hart." Says the woman, whose name I had already forgotten. "I could certainly use a coffee after my flight." She nods to the other agent who nods somewhat eagerly.

"One second." I say and close the door. I half expect them to kick it in as I throw on some clothes and shoes, but it doesn't happen.

I don't bother to tell Faith what is happening. Slayer hearing is formidable. With a deep breath I pull back the latch chain and step out the door.


The Espresso Pump is busy serving the morning commuters but lemme tell you there is nothing like two obvious FBI agents to clear some space. The first agent sits with me and the other goes to get us all coffee. The other flips through her note book.

"So Ms. Hart, you work at a night club… uh… Bronze… something."

"'The Bronze'. Just 'The Bronze'." I say, hearing my voice trembling. I swallow and try to relax.

"Oh good, I thought I missed it, I had to fly down this morning and I am still not completely awake yet to be perfectly honest." The agent smiles, scratching something out on her notes. "And you were at the party when…"

"My friends… Buffy Summers and Willow Rosenberg… are they… did…"

"We just came from the hospital, they are both still in a critical condition, I am afraid."

The other agent, Rosenberg, arrives with our coffees. She hands me the large ceramic mug and takes a seat opposite me.

"I know this must be difficult for you, but we are just here to help find out what happened to your friends. So any help you can give us is appreciated Ms. Hart."

"Of course Agent… "

"Clacy. But call me Phillipa please. May I call you Alexandra?"

"It's Lexi."

"Lexi. That's cool." Says Phillipa.

"I am Esther."

"Rosenberg. Kind of hard to forget considering."

"It makes this case hit a little more home for me, yes." Esther says with a little smile. "Willow seems to be recovering very quickly, if that helps."

"She was always a strong person."

"You are close?"

"Since always." I say, feeling guilt rising in me. I know I am shifting uncomfortably at this and curse my body to be still. It seems disinterested in my opinion.

"And Ms. Summers?"

"Best friends in high school. She moved here from L.A. We all went to Sunnydale High."

"That the one that blew up?" Says Phillipa, scanning her notes.

I nod, sipping my coffee. As if I needed more. I am tense and awake as I have ever been right now, my heart seems to be kicking into a whole new gear.

"You know Marcie Ross?" Agent Rosenberg says. I swallow and nod. "You know what happened to her?" She says. Phillipa Clacy gives her glare, which the older woman scowls at.

"No. She went a little crazy, right?"

"And Pete Clarner and Debbie Weeks?"

"Yeah. Not close, but Buffy dated Pete's friend Scott. So we had a few interactions."

"Were you there when he murdered Debbie?"

"Esther, can we focus on the party please?" Agent Clarner says. Ether ignores her again.

"A lot of unusual things happened at Sunnydale High, didn't they?"

"Esther, a word please." Agent Clarner stands and pulls the other agent aside. They step outside and begin talking. Somehow it makes me feel all the more agitated and I find my jaw clenching hard. I let out a breath and try and steady my hands on the table.

Faith is next. I just know it. Esther Rosenberg is digging and seems to be relentless. Nobody around here digs into the truth because they know better. Fear keeps the cops behaving stupid. I wonder if the absence of The Mayor means things are about to change. Some light may get poured into the darkness. I feel like she has a metal probe and it is hovering over a raw nerve. I glance back at the woman, and she is glaring back at me before turning her attention to Clarner.

I feel awful, like every muscle in my body wants out. My hands are shaking something fierce, I try to still them. Perhaps a distraction, I reach for my cup and with both hands, raise it to my lips.

Pain rushes through me, starting at my heart and streaking across my chest and out through my body like a searing star. Everything tenses, everything fall silent, and for a moment I am in darkness, cresting a negative wave like a reversed imploding orgasm.

I snap back to awareness just as the mug in my hands shatters into pieces that cascade in out in slow motion. The dark fluid blooming like a flower as the force ripples through it.

I smell the coffee and the particles of ceramic, I smell the paper sachets sitting in the dust filled pot on the table and the dried tomato sauce stain behind me and the people… oh… oh my god I am drowning in sensation.

Everything speeds up once more and I yelp as the coffee coats me. I stand, far too quickly, and I hear a crack from beneath the fixed table as it tilts back.

No.

No.

Oh, nonononono.

"Buffy!" I say, the name sounds crystal sharp in my ear.

And now I am running towards the hospital faster than I have ever been able to run before.