Chapter Seven - More Ponderings
Faith was pacing along the Summers living room. "I
should be there," she whined. "Why do Angel and B get to
fight? I'm a Slayer too, and I'd be more help than Angel.
Sure, he's a good fighter, but if this witch won't invite
him in, B's gotta handle it on her own."
"Slayer's got a point," Spike pointed out casually.
"Not that I give a damn, but the ponce won't be much help
if it goes inside." He didn't care in the least about
whether Faith got her fighting fill or not, but he was
always up for a chance to outsmart Angel.
"Shut up, Spike! No one asked for your opinion,"
Xander said, harshly. He knew he was being unfair,
considering that Spike had, albeit reluctantly, agreed to
stay in case of trouble. Despite that, he still annoyed
him, and Xander couldn't help but get one last jibe in.
"Besides, Angel's been a hell of a lot more help than you
over the years." I'm defending Dead Boy? Oh, man, this is
bad. Very bad.
Spike opened his mouth to voice Xander's own
thoughts, but shut it again as he saw Faith's face. He
could probably take her, considering she'd spent the last
three years in prison, but she was still a Slayer.
Besides, he didn't want to get blood on his coat, nor a
migraine. Anyway, killing her friends wasn't the best way
to gain Buffy's affections. 'Well, crap', he realized.
'Since when do I arrange my actions by what Buffy Summers
would like? I'm evil. I don't take orders from anybody,
especially the Slayer.'
Faith continued pacing as Xander headed back to the
kitchen where Willow was hiding out. From Spike, she
thought, but maybe her as well. The second Slayer had
taken quite a bit of explaining. Truth be told, she was
feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Anya was
scowling at the kitchen door, obviously sulking. Spike –
well, she didn't really care what Spike thought of her.
Dawn was clearly terrified of her, sitting very close
to Tara, who was perched precariously on the edge of the
couch. Dawn sat beside her, an arm around the woman who
had mothered her for three months. During that time, Tara
had been the one who made the lunches, and talked to her
about her day. Willow – make that Katherine – had been so
busy keeping everyone safe that Tara had really been the
one to look after her. Willow was homework gal, though.
Now, Willow didn't know who she was, and Tara was crying
silently, her shoulders shaking as she imagined what
Willow must have gone through. HER Willow. The Willow that
she'd never actually met. She'd fallen in love with the
person that Buffy was about to kill. Another sob shook the
blonde Wiccan's delicate frame, and she leapt to her feet.
"Go," Tara told Faith curtly, ignoring the startled
stares that she received from the other Scoobies. "Help
Buffy and Angel. Just – just don't let Buffy hurt her if
you can help it." The brunette's eyes widened. "Go!" Tara
snapped at her harshly. She didn't care that Dawn was
staring at her in shock, or that Spike was eyeing her with
something resembling a leer. All she knew was that she'd
fallen in love with an amazing woman, who hadn't been in
the least evil. That couldn't have all been an act.
Could it? Tara put her face in her hands and sobbed
as Anya patted her shoulder awkwardly, and Faith ran from
the house, heading determinedly towards Amy Madison's
house. Willow had given them the address earlier, managing
to drag the memory from her confused brain.
In the kitchen, Willow and Xander were talking
quietly. Once informed of all that had occurred over the
past five years, Willow appeared to have gone into shock,
staring at the wall as Xander babbled endlessly.
"Anyhow, the gay thing. I don't think I ever told
you, I am totally fine with that. Tara's a great girl, and
I'm really pleased for you. Will?"
"Xander, I don't even know if I'm gay. I don't know
the first thing about Tara, and she doesn't know anything
about me. If she was as in love with the old me as you
say, then she's in love with Katherine Madison. Me, I –
I'm still in love with you."
Xander froze. Oh boy. "Will, the thing is – I'm in
love with Anya."
"Oh, I know that," his best friend informed him
casually. "I just thought I'd better tell you." She
paused. "Did I tell you before?"
He shook his head, and smiled. "No, Will. You didn't.
I know now, though."
******************************************
Faith leapt over a bench as she headed towards the
large house that Amy Madison and her father occupied.
Adrenaline rushed through her, and not for the first time,
she wondered if Buffy still got that 'high' when they were
about to fight. It wasn't so much the fight that attracted
her. It was the knowledge that what she was about to do,
was her gift. She had lost that when she'd turned to the
dark side, but when she'd been on the right side, fighting
with Buffy, she'd known that she was doing what she was
meant to do. She was the Slayer, and she saved the world.
She had a purpose in life.
So intent was Faith on her musings that she nearly
missed the house. Cursing herself for her carelessness,
she turned in at the gate, just in time to see the dark
haired witch blast Buffy into the door.
#
Faith was pacing along the Summers living room. "I
should be there," she whined. "Why do Angel and B get to
fight? I'm a Slayer too, and I'd be more help than Angel.
Sure, he's a good fighter, but if this witch won't invite
him in, B's gotta handle it on her own."
"Slayer's got a point," Spike pointed out casually.
"Not that I give a damn, but the ponce won't be much help
if it goes inside." He didn't care in the least about
whether Faith got her fighting fill or not, but he was
always up for a chance to outsmart Angel.
"Shut up, Spike! No one asked for your opinion,"
Xander said, harshly. He knew he was being unfair,
considering that Spike had, albeit reluctantly, agreed to
stay in case of trouble. Despite that, he still annoyed
him, and Xander couldn't help but get one last jibe in.
"Besides, Angel's been a hell of a lot more help than you
over the years." I'm defending Dead Boy? Oh, man, this is
bad. Very bad.
Spike opened his mouth to voice Xander's own
thoughts, but shut it again as he saw Faith's face. He
could probably take her, considering she'd spent the last
three years in prison, but she was still a Slayer.
Besides, he didn't want to get blood on his coat, nor a
migraine. Anyway, killing her friends wasn't the best way
to gain Buffy's affections. 'Well, crap', he realized.
'Since when do I arrange my actions by what Buffy Summers
would like? I'm evil. I don't take orders from anybody,
especially the Slayer.'
Faith continued pacing as Xander headed back to the
kitchen where Willow was hiding out. From Spike, she
thought, but maybe her as well. The second Slayer had
taken quite a bit of explaining. Truth be told, she was
feeling more than a little uncomfortable. Anya was
scowling at the kitchen door, obviously sulking. Spike –
well, she didn't really care what Spike thought of her.
Dawn was clearly terrified of her, sitting very close
to Tara, who was perched precariously on the edge of the
couch. Dawn sat beside her, an arm around the woman who
had mothered her for three months. During that time, Tara
had been the one who made the lunches, and talked to her
about her day. Willow – make that Katherine – had been so
busy keeping everyone safe that Tara had really been the
one to look after her. Willow was homework gal, though.
Now, Willow didn't know who she was, and Tara was crying
silently, her shoulders shaking as she imagined what
Willow must have gone through. HER Willow. The Willow that
she'd never actually met. She'd fallen in love with the
person that Buffy was about to kill. Another sob shook the
blonde Wiccan's delicate frame, and she leapt to her feet.
"Go," Tara told Faith curtly, ignoring the startled
stares that she received from the other Scoobies. "Help
Buffy and Angel. Just – just don't let Buffy hurt her if
you can help it." The brunette's eyes widened. "Go!" Tara
snapped at her harshly. She didn't care that Dawn was
staring at her in shock, or that Spike was eyeing her with
something resembling a leer. All she knew was that she'd
fallen in love with an amazing woman, who hadn't been in
the least evil. That couldn't have all been an act.
Could it? Tara put her face in her hands and sobbed
as Anya patted her shoulder awkwardly, and Faith ran from
the house, heading determinedly towards Amy Madison's
house. Willow had given them the address earlier, managing
to drag the memory from her confused brain.
In the kitchen, Willow and Xander were talking
quietly. Once informed of all that had occurred over the
past five years, Willow appeared to have gone into shock,
staring at the wall as Xander babbled endlessly.
"Anyhow, the gay thing. I don't think I ever told
you, I am totally fine with that. Tara's a great girl, and
I'm really pleased for you. Will?"
"Xander, I don't even know if I'm gay. I don't know
the first thing about Tara, and she doesn't know anything
about me. If she was as in love with the old me as you
say, then she's in love with Katherine Madison. Me, I –
I'm still in love with you."
Xander froze. Oh boy. "Will, the thing is – I'm in
love with Anya."
"Oh, I know that," his best friend informed him
casually. "I just thought I'd better tell you." She
paused. "Did I tell you before?"
He shook his head, and smiled. "No, Will. You didn't.
I know now, though."
******************************************
Faith leapt over a bench as she headed towards the
large house that Amy Madison and her father occupied.
Adrenaline rushed through her, and not for the first time,
she wondered if Buffy still got that 'high' when they were
about to fight. It wasn't so much the fight that attracted
her. It was the knowledge that what she was about to do,
was her gift. She had lost that when she'd turned to the
dark side, but when she'd been on the right side, fighting
with Buffy, she'd known that she was doing what she was
meant to do. She was the Slayer, and she saved the world.
She had a purpose in life.
So intent was Faith on her musings that she nearly
missed the house. Cursing herself for her carelessness,
she turned in at the gate, just in time to see the dark
haired witch blast Buffy into the door.
#