Part 3: Faith
#
Hush now! Faith is sleeping.
Has slept for some time now, truth to tell. Many a month, ever since they found her broken body on the back of a truck, a wound in her belly as if she had been stabbed by someone.
Someone who was her friend.
Yet it isn't the wound, the doctors say, long healed by now, which has caused her to sleep for so long a time. No one knows what happened to Faith, at least no one who is telling, but it seems she has fallen down from a high place, fallen on her head.
Faith is sleeping, but her eyes move behind her closed lids, seeing things that are not real, can not be real. Can they?
Who knows what sleeping Slayers dream?
The sign on the front door of the Bronze says "DISCO DANCE CONTEST". Disco? Faith doesn't remember going to the Bronze. Somehow she has a feeling that she is no longer welcome here. Wasn't this the hangout of some friends she knows? No, not her friends. Friends she might have, could have had, but that was a long time ago.
They are not her friends.
Behind the door the scenery fits the theme of the evening. Colored lights whirl around on the walls and the floor, accompanied by the bright glitter of a silvery disco globe hanging in the center of the room, old music blaring from the loud speakers. High-pitched male voices. The Bee Gees?
"Faith, baby!" Someone yells at her and she turns around, only now realizing that she, too, is dressed to fit tonight's theme. A skirt (she never wears skirts, does she?), high platform boots, colorful blouse, her hair much longer than she remembers it. With colored ribbons woven into it.
She knows the man who has spoken to her, doesn't she? Old guy, British accent. His hair shouldn't be like this, so long and with the major sideburns. Red polyester suit? Didn't he always wear tweed?
"Giles?" She asks, quite sure not that his name is Giles.
"Dance or die, baby!" He yells at her, swinging his hips to the music. "Dance or die!"
She doesn't want to dance with him. No, she is quite sure that she is here to dance with someone else. Or maybe just meet, she isn't too clear about that yet.
"Look me up when you get back, baby!" Giles yells after her when she walks through the dancing crowd. A new Bee Gees song blares across the speakers, even as someone bumps into her.
"Stayin' alive is highly overrated, Slayer!" A new voice. A new face, too. Does she know this man with the bleach blonde hair and the British accent? (How come so many people here have British accents?) No, she doesn't think so. The sharp-cut white suit he is wearing doesn't fit him. Clashes with the leather jump boots and the coat he has draped over one arm.
"Slayer?" She asks the strange man, who doesn't breathe except to inhale the smoke of his cigarette. "I'm not the Slayer!"
"Is that right?" He doesn't sound like he's buying it.
"I don't care about saving innocent people or killing Vampires!"
He laughs and she can see sharpened teeth inside his mouth. How do they fit in there anyway? They're much too long.
"Good for you!" He toasts her with a drink he didn't have a second ago, filled with a thick red liquid. The glass rings as her own glass clinks against it. "What about her, though?" The Vampire asks, motioning toward the bar.
A blonde girl is sitting there, dressed in nothing but a skintight crimson body suit, which covers her from the neck down, leaving nothing to the imagination. One of her hands idly plays with a knife, running a finger over the blade, cutting herself open without drawing blood. Her other hand picks olives from a small bowl on the bar.
How come the olives are yelling?
"B?" Faith whispers. Conflicting emotions. Her sister, her enemy. Helped her, fought her, loved her, stabbed her.
"You're bleedin', luv!" The blonde Vampire says. "Mind if I have a taste?"
The blouse she is wearing is soaked with blood, some of it dripping on the carpet. A new band is now playing on the stage. Short guy with a shaggy wolf head jams the guitar. A blonde and a redhead hit the keyboard, sharing kisses between notes. A dark-haired boy (Xander? Yes, his name is Xander) is working the drums.
"Pardon me!" The blonde Vampire puts a straw into Faith's wound, eagerly starting to suck. She never notices. B is still sitting at the bar, but now smiles broadly as someone else appears on stage.
"Start spreading the news!" Angel starts to sing as the band accompanies him. "Slayer's coming today!"
"Yeah, baby!" Buffy applauds!
"I'm not the Slayer!" Faith whispers. Why doesn't anybody understand that she is not the Slayer? (She doesn't have the right to call herself that anymore.)
"'Cause she just wants to be part of it," Angel continues, "End of the world!"
The little olives Buffy's eating are not olives, Faith realizes. Faces. Little faces, screaming as she gulps them down. Why are they screaming?
"She will come back to the city that never sleeps!" Angel's voice rings out again.
"Stop it!" Faith yells, but no one listens to her. The Vampire is still happily sucking her blood. Giles swivels his hips on the dance floor.
"And though she's not number one, queen of the graves, top of the Slay, ain't number one ..."
Angel holds the last note, the sound rising until Faith has to press her hands to her ears. Buffy rises from the bar, setting herself on fire as she passes a table with black candles on it.
"B! You're ..." Faith tries to scream above the piercing sound, trying to warn Buffy of what is happening to her.
"Don't worry about it!" Buffy says, her entire body in flames now. "I'll be all-new and better real soon!"
A burning hand reaches out to touch her cheek and the second Slayer screams.
"Buffy!"
Faith sits up in her hospital bed, panting, trying to make sense of her surrounding. Why is she in a hospital bed? Wasn't she in her apartment, packing her things to move while having a chat with B? Or was that fighting against her? She isn't sure.
There is a digital clock in her room, complete with date. Today's date.
"Six months?" She whispers, her tongue heavy from disuse.
What happened? The Mayor? Buffy? Angel? So many jumbled images. Did she really do all that? The poisoned arrow? The man in the alley? That kind old professor? No, it isn't possible!
Giles! Giles said to look her up when she got back!
She has to go see Giles! Now!
TO BE CONTINUED
#
Hush now! Faith is sleeping.
Has slept for some time now, truth to tell. Many a month, ever since they found her broken body on the back of a truck, a wound in her belly as if she had been stabbed by someone.
Someone who was her friend.
Yet it isn't the wound, the doctors say, long healed by now, which has caused her to sleep for so long a time. No one knows what happened to Faith, at least no one who is telling, but it seems she has fallen down from a high place, fallen on her head.
Faith is sleeping, but her eyes move behind her closed lids, seeing things that are not real, can not be real. Can they?
Who knows what sleeping Slayers dream?
The sign on the front door of the Bronze says "DISCO DANCE CONTEST". Disco? Faith doesn't remember going to the Bronze. Somehow she has a feeling that she is no longer welcome here. Wasn't this the hangout of some friends she knows? No, not her friends. Friends she might have, could have had, but that was a long time ago.
They are not her friends.
Behind the door the scenery fits the theme of the evening. Colored lights whirl around on the walls and the floor, accompanied by the bright glitter of a silvery disco globe hanging in the center of the room, old music blaring from the loud speakers. High-pitched male voices. The Bee Gees?
"Faith, baby!" Someone yells at her and she turns around, only now realizing that she, too, is dressed to fit tonight's theme. A skirt (she never wears skirts, does she?), high platform boots, colorful blouse, her hair much longer than she remembers it. With colored ribbons woven into it.
She knows the man who has spoken to her, doesn't she? Old guy, British accent. His hair shouldn't be like this, so long and with the major sideburns. Red polyester suit? Didn't he always wear tweed?
"Giles?" She asks, quite sure not that his name is Giles.
"Dance or die, baby!" He yells at her, swinging his hips to the music. "Dance or die!"
She doesn't want to dance with him. No, she is quite sure that she is here to dance with someone else. Or maybe just meet, she isn't too clear about that yet.
"Look me up when you get back, baby!" Giles yells after her when she walks through the dancing crowd. A new Bee Gees song blares across the speakers, even as someone bumps into her.
"Stayin' alive is highly overrated, Slayer!" A new voice. A new face, too. Does she know this man with the bleach blonde hair and the British accent? (How come so many people here have British accents?) No, she doesn't think so. The sharp-cut white suit he is wearing doesn't fit him. Clashes with the leather jump boots and the coat he has draped over one arm.
"Slayer?" She asks the strange man, who doesn't breathe except to inhale the smoke of his cigarette. "I'm not the Slayer!"
"Is that right?" He doesn't sound like he's buying it.
"I don't care about saving innocent people or killing Vampires!"
He laughs and she can see sharpened teeth inside his mouth. How do they fit in there anyway? They're much too long.
"Good for you!" He toasts her with a drink he didn't have a second ago, filled with a thick red liquid. The glass rings as her own glass clinks against it. "What about her, though?" The Vampire asks, motioning toward the bar.
A blonde girl is sitting there, dressed in nothing but a skintight crimson body suit, which covers her from the neck down, leaving nothing to the imagination. One of her hands idly plays with a knife, running a finger over the blade, cutting herself open without drawing blood. Her other hand picks olives from a small bowl on the bar.
How come the olives are yelling?
"B?" Faith whispers. Conflicting emotions. Her sister, her enemy. Helped her, fought her, loved her, stabbed her.
"You're bleedin', luv!" The blonde Vampire says. "Mind if I have a taste?"
The blouse she is wearing is soaked with blood, some of it dripping on the carpet. A new band is now playing on the stage. Short guy with a shaggy wolf head jams the guitar. A blonde and a redhead hit the keyboard, sharing kisses between notes. A dark-haired boy (Xander? Yes, his name is Xander) is working the drums.
"Pardon me!" The blonde Vampire puts a straw into Faith's wound, eagerly starting to suck. She never notices. B is still sitting at the bar, but now smiles broadly as someone else appears on stage.
"Start spreading the news!" Angel starts to sing as the band accompanies him. "Slayer's coming today!"
"Yeah, baby!" Buffy applauds!
"I'm not the Slayer!" Faith whispers. Why doesn't anybody understand that she is not the Slayer? (She doesn't have the right to call herself that anymore.)
"'Cause she just wants to be part of it," Angel continues, "End of the world!"
The little olives Buffy's eating are not olives, Faith realizes. Faces. Little faces, screaming as she gulps them down. Why are they screaming?
"She will come back to the city that never sleeps!" Angel's voice rings out again.
"Stop it!" Faith yells, but no one listens to her. The Vampire is still happily sucking her blood. Giles swivels his hips on the dance floor.
"And though she's not number one, queen of the graves, top of the Slay, ain't number one ..."
Angel holds the last note, the sound rising until Faith has to press her hands to her ears. Buffy rises from the bar, setting herself on fire as she passes a table with black candles on it.
"B! You're ..." Faith tries to scream above the piercing sound, trying to warn Buffy of what is happening to her.
"Don't worry about it!" Buffy says, her entire body in flames now. "I'll be all-new and better real soon!"
A burning hand reaches out to touch her cheek and the second Slayer screams.
"Buffy!"
Faith sits up in her hospital bed, panting, trying to make sense of her surrounding. Why is she in a hospital bed? Wasn't she in her apartment, packing her things to move while having a chat with B? Or was that fighting against her? She isn't sure.
There is a digital clock in her room, complete with date. Today's date.
"Six months?" She whispers, her tongue heavy from disuse.
What happened? The Mayor? Buffy? Angel? So many jumbled images. Did she really do all that? The poisoned arrow? The man in the alley? That kind old professor? No, it isn't possible!
Giles! Giles said to look her up when she got back!
She has to go see Giles! Now!
TO BE CONTINUED