Part 11 - Preparations

Wesley and Angel had all but dragged a sullen Faith into the room where they were going to perform the switch. Wesley had been gone for most of the previous night and all day, seeing the "people" he needed for the information about the Slayer powers he sought.

He'd returned with an small, odd oval-shaped silver device, engraved with a crucifix and what he took to be a stake. Angel had turned it back and forth in his hands, examining the rough silver of it, the strange heaviness though it felt fragile in his grip. "Where did you get this?" he'd asked. Wesley had said he'd found a hint in one of the more ancient tomes that there was a way to take and store certain powers – usually from Master Vampires when they slept, that they could be more easily destroyed. He'd spoken to the Council, who had reluctantly confirmed that his research was correct – the Orbs had been used before the emergence of the Slayers. Apparently, he said, the Orb also worked for other powers – including those of the Slayers', a carefully guarded secret deep in the Council vaults. He'd added fervently that almost no-one knew of the T'Aurelian Orb's existence – and that the Council had revealed only one or two were left from the few that had been made centuries before. And Angel held one of them in his hand. Faith had been given or found it, activated it somehow, then sold it. When he'd started asking round, the trail had eventually led to a very nervous slime demon who'd been only too glad to hand it over (though he'd bargained for a good price, all the same), claiming that it made odd noises and glowed every now and again, and made him feel weird.

Wesley had taken the object, buying it as cheaply as possible and had made one more stop before hurrying back to Angel's. He'd then spent several hours squinting at an ancient, battered text, trying to decipher its cracked and faded letters – trying to get Faith to tell them how the device worked had been fruitless. She had point-blank refused, just smiling at them, loathing glittering deep in the cold blue eyes. But at last, they were ready.

Buffy sat tensely in a hard backed chair, one that they'd brought in from the kitchen, hands clutching nervously at each other as she watched them bring in the shackled Faith. From the sweat beading her forehead and the way she was biting her lip, it looked like she'd tested the chains - again. She'd only tried twice already. Buffy had also agreed to be chained; it would be the only way, Wesley had insisted again, to control Faith once the switch was achieved. And there had been no doubt in his voice that the switch would happen. He'd also purchased a small charm that would render Faith unable to speak until he released it. She could make noises – but no words would issue from her. She glared impotently at them all as they hauled her in.

Cordelia looked up and tutted. "Don't you ever learn, Faith?" She sighed, fake concern in her face. Then she turned, apologetically chaining Buffy's legs together, then to the chair. "Sorry. You know it's nothing personal, Buffy," she said. "But you know, when you're like, Faith in Faith's body again? Can't have you loose. Only I guess it won't be you………whatever." She shook her head, finished with Buffy's legs and waited while Buffy moved her arms behind her, working quickly with the cuffs and the chains to secure her arms. She'd asked earlier if they weren't perhaps doing the overkill thing with all the chains. And been reminded what Faith had done to three innocent victims. She'd hastily agreed after that that perhaps the chains were necessary……

Angel and Wesley lowered Faith onto a second chair that sat about three feet away opposite Buffy, working then to move the chains that bound her and make sure she was tethered tightly to it. She stared sullenly at Buffy, not moving now, golden hair hanging lankly round her face, clothes crumpled where she'd been chained, sleeping in them. Wesley and Angel stepped back, Angel moving over and pausing to drop a gentle kiss on Buffy's forehead, stroking back the dark hair. She looked up at him, dark eyes pensive. "Don't worry. It'll work. You'll be fine." He moved away and stood next to Cordelia, folding his arms across his broad chest. Buffy smiled and turned her gaze to watch Wesley.

The second object he'd purchased swung, glittering, from his fist. An opalescent blue-white stone, roughly the size of a duck's egg, set in gold and hanging from a strangely delicate golden chain, about 48 inches long. "This is the – same sort of device that Faith used for the first switch," he began. "But unlike hers, this needs a spell to – activate it. Make it work." He fiddled with something on the side of the fancy gold setting and the stone split neatly into halves, one side curved, the other flat, each stone a mirror image of the other. The chain split into two as well, each stone suspended from a single, slender golden thread of metal.

Wesley handed one stone to Angel and held the other up, looping the chain round, joining it to the setting. It merged and he held a single, perfect oval stone on a chain. He retrieved the second from Angel and carefully repeated the procedure, waiting till Angel had picked up a knife from a nearby table. Faith saw the blade he intended to use and her face tightened with rage, though she remained silent, not even making noises now. It was hers, the knife; the wicked, graceful, shining gift from the Mayor.

Angel raised the knife and Wesley gritted his teeth and closed his eyes as the point pierced his finger. Angel made sure the cut was deep; his nostrils flared instinctively as blood began to well up, the coppery scent rising to his face. He swallowed convulsively, shook his head, and Wesley turned quickly away and walked towards Faith... … …