Going on Faith - chapter 9
Apologies to those who have been waiting for an update to this tale. I'd actually given it up, having hit a monumental block, then decided today I should just push through and try to find 'what happens next'.
He was wrong. It could get worse. The wind had risen until the branches of the trees around them were rattling like dry bones and icy pellets of rain had begun to pelt them. Faith was barely moving under her own steam now. Her dead weight pressed against him and he hoisted her up again by tightening the arm draped around his neck.
"Sorry," she muttered, trying to regain her own footing and only succeeding in pulling him off balance so they both swayed.
"No. Problem," he grunted. For such a twig of a girl, she seemed to weigh a ton. They tottered on for a few more steps before Xander's strength gave out. "Time for a rest." He unslung her arm and eased her down to the ground. She dropped gratefully.
"Just a minute," she agreed sleepily. The Slayer leaned back against a tree trunk, and Xander took her ankle onto his lap to have a look at the damage. He removed the blood soaked bandage and gently probed at the torn flesh. If only there were water to wash off the blood so he could tell what was going on. But there wasn't.
"Faith, you're going to have to give me your T-shirt. We need a fresh bandage," he explained, tugging at her sleeve, "Let me help you get the coat and jacket off." He guided her out of both garments, then had her lift her arms so he could peel the skimpy T off. Knowing Faith, Xander shouldn't have been as surprised as he was that there was no bra underneath. Her nipples peaked instantly in the chill air and for a selfish second his only desire was for better lighting than the weak flashlight glow, so he could get a clearer look. He mentally shook himself and helped the woman back into her jacket, buttoning it up over bare flesh. Then covering her with the heavy warmth of his coat.
His hands were like ice, and shaking, as he tied the clean material around her tattered ankle. It seemed that there was no fresh blood and that the wounds may be starting to scab over, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. He prayed that Buffy would be wondering what was keeping them and starting to look for them any second. Maybe Rufus was leading her to them right now.
********* (earlier) Buffy's impression of the peculiar owner of the Sleep Tite Motel had matched Faith and Xander's. As she checked in and quickly scanned the dingy little office, she felt as if she'd stepped back in time. Her Slayer sense told her that Bernie wasn't a vamp, and a quick touch of his hand as he passed her the key, confirmed that he was indeed alive, so not a zombie. Demons could fool you with a very human face, as Anya and Halfrek were proof, still Buffy sensed that this very creepy man was just that. A man.
"So.... bet you don't get much traffic way out here," she stalled for time, hoping to get a glimpse of Mrs. Weird and Wednesday Adams.
"Nope." The charming host hawked up a wad of phlegm, spit it into his bandana, and gave it a quick exam before stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket. He gazed blankly at Buffy, who grimaced at the disgusting display.
"I was lucky I saw your sign," she continued. "I've been driving for hours and I'm exhausted. Once I got off the highway, I got all turned around and ended up here." Bernie stared his indifference. Hoping to look like she had 'victim' stamped on her forehead, Buffy said helpfully, "My family's not expecting me for days and days. I just hope I make it there before Granny kicks off."
When she continued to hesitate and toy with the bell on the counter, he said, "Room's fourth in the row. Number fell off the door so don't look for one."
"Ookay." Buffy tried another tack. "Hey, you must get really get lonely running this place. You got a family or anything? They around here?"
"My woman's cookin' out back," he gestured with a thumb over one shoulder. As if suddenly remembering some long-forgotten etiquette, he added, "You get hungry later, you can have some barbecue."
"Mmm. Sounds good," Buffy shot him a dazzling grin. "I'll have to take you up on that. Well, see ya." She slipped out of the office and headed toward her room, jingling the keys in one hand. The sight of a practically albino little girl standing under a tree at the edge of the parking lot like a ghost, holding a blanket-wrapped bundle, stopped her in her tracks.
Buffy turned the wattage up on her smile and sauntered over to the child. "Hi. What you got there? Is that your dolly?" She brushed aside the blanket expecting to see a pink-cheeked vinyl baby doll and jumped back with a screech of horror. All her years of slaying still didn't prepare her for some of twisted shit she came across on the job. Darling Marcy was holding a mummified human baby up for her inspection.
Buffy recovered quickly, realizing this was her chance to pick the kid's brain for information. Acting as if she hadn't just freaked out, she stepped forward and oozed charm. "What a darling little thing! Where did you get her?"
Silence and a grave, cross-eyed, stare.
"Did your daddy bring you the doll, sweetheart?"
More silence.
"I bet he did. Maybe your mom and dad gave it to your for your birthday or something?"
The child's mouth opened, and Buffy waited........And waited.....
"This'un was too small, mama said. Not enough meat so she said I could keep her."
"Uh-huh." Buffy made agreeing sounds. Yes of course. Perfect logic. Too small to eat? What else would you do but make a doll out of it? She nodded and continued to pin a smile on her aching face.
The last rays of the sun disappeared behind the woods as Buffy stood regarding the little cannibal girl and deciding what her next move should be. A wild barking and rustling in the underbrush heralded the unexpected arrival of Xander's new pet, which came bounding from the trees and ran straight for them. Little Marcy shrieked and dropped her 'doll', grabbing at Buffy and trying to climb her like a scrawny monkey. Buffy resisted the urge to kick the repugnant child away from her, but pushed her firmly down, while shouting at Rufus to 'Sit'.
The Slayer scanned the darkening woods wondering how far behind the mutt Xander and Faith were. Marcy continued to howl in fear as the dog pranced around them, and the ruckus roused Bernie, who came out of the office and stared at them across the parking lot. Damn! This was not looking good. Best play ignorant.
Buffy waved at him, shouting, "Cute little girl you have here! I think she's afraid of this stray." She grabbed the dog's collar and gave Marcy a little push toward her dad. Quickly retrieving her dolly, the kid ran to him. Buffy then let go of Rufus and with another little wave, headed calmly toward her room. From the corner of her eye she saw the odd pair retreat back into the building.
Buffy unlocked her room and entered, standing just inside the door and scanning the outdoors. The dog tried to follow her into the room and continued panting, barking and pawing at her leg. The sinking feeling that the others were in trouble and wouldn't be popping out of the woods any time soon began to settle in. She wondered what horrors they might have found there. The idea of bumbling around trying to find them in the now dark forest wasn't attractive.
"You want me to follow you, don't you, Lassie?" she asked the dog drily. "Little Xander's in trouble? Take me to him!" Throwing caution to the wind, she sprinted across the parking lot again and plunged into the woods behind the canine, oblivious of the eyes watching from the Sleep Tite Motel.
************
Spike entered "The Hovel", the newer demon hangout that was giving Willy's serious competition. He was pretty well known around Sunnydale as the Slayer's paramour and didn't know if he could make the necessary contacts here without being recognized. Nevertheless, Spike jammed a black knit cap on his head, turned the collar of his coat up to hide as much of his face as possible, and made his entrance. So far, so good, he didn't recognize anyone in the place.
He slid onto a stool and asked the Barzai demon tending bar for a double shot of A-positive with a chaser of Dewars. The barkeep grunted and set him up.
"Hey, mate," Spike spoke confidentially, leaning in to the bar. "I heard this is the place to find a guy who'll set me up with a set of wheels?"
"Maybe." The Barzai was non-committal, but his eyes quickly shot over to a booth in the back, before returning to Spike.
"Can you put me on to him?"
Shrugging, the bartender returned to slinging drinks. Spike waited patiently, watched him whisper in the ear of a waitress, who nodded and sashayed away with a loaded tray balanced on one hand. From the corner of his eye he saw her deposit a drink at that corner booth, then lean in to deliver the message. He could only see the back of a nodding head.
He downed his drinks and asked for another shot. In a moment the waitress tapped his shoulder and gave him the go ahead, "He'll see you, honey," she gestured to the back, then lowered her voice. "Guy's a human, and don't look like much, but don't let him fool ya'. He can get what you need, but don't think he's weak and try to screw him over when it's time to pay. You don't wanna mess with Cletus."
'.....the slack-jawed yokel' sang the voice in Spike's mind. He stifled a grin and gave the waitress a curt nod before rising and heading over to the auto dealer. He slid into the booth across from someone who looked like the lovechild of Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble.
"You Maxwell?" Spike asked.
"I speak for him," the guy answered. "What can I get for ya?"
"Something late model that runs. The important thing is reflective windows. I'm gonna have to run it in daylight. Also, the paperwork should be clean."
"Can do. You show me some upfront cash and I'll show you what we have available."
"First, I want to know that no one's gonna be looking for it."
The neanderthal shook his head. "Not a problem. All our rides are guaranteed clean." He leaned in confidentially. "Cousin of Cletus's takes out the former owners, secures the vehicles, and passes 'em on to us. A little make-over, some fresh papers, and bingo, you got a safe ride, that'll stand up if you ever get pulled over."
Spike nodded. "Sounds good. I'm making the purchase for someone else, so just tell me what kind of cash we're talking and I'll arrange another meeting with you later."
After settling the terms, time and place, Spike quickly exited the bar. The connection between the motel owner and Maxwell seemed pretty clear. Now it only remained to find out how Buffy would want to handle it. He cursed her again for not taking the cell along on her expedition with Harris and the other Slayer. Didn't know why he'd bothered to get her the damn thing if she never had it with her when he needed to call.
Even though it was only humans involved in this scheme, he had an uneasy feeling about it. There was no way he could go back to the house and just sit on his hands til they showed up. Spike slid behind the wheel of Willow's sporty new car and revved the engine. He smiled, thinking how pissed she'd be if she knew Dawn had let him wheedle the keys away from her, then slipped it in gear and roared down the street to the highway that would take him to Buffy.
to be continued
Apologies to those who have been waiting for an update to this tale. I'd actually given it up, having hit a monumental block, then decided today I should just push through and try to find 'what happens next'.
He was wrong. It could get worse. The wind had risen until the branches of the trees around them were rattling like dry bones and icy pellets of rain had begun to pelt them. Faith was barely moving under her own steam now. Her dead weight pressed against him and he hoisted her up again by tightening the arm draped around his neck.
"Sorry," she muttered, trying to regain her own footing and only succeeding in pulling him off balance so they both swayed.
"No. Problem," he grunted. For such a twig of a girl, she seemed to weigh a ton. They tottered on for a few more steps before Xander's strength gave out. "Time for a rest." He unslung her arm and eased her down to the ground. She dropped gratefully.
"Just a minute," she agreed sleepily. The Slayer leaned back against a tree trunk, and Xander took her ankle onto his lap to have a look at the damage. He removed the blood soaked bandage and gently probed at the torn flesh. If only there were water to wash off the blood so he could tell what was going on. But there wasn't.
"Faith, you're going to have to give me your T-shirt. We need a fresh bandage," he explained, tugging at her sleeve, "Let me help you get the coat and jacket off." He guided her out of both garments, then had her lift her arms so he could peel the skimpy T off. Knowing Faith, Xander shouldn't have been as surprised as he was that there was no bra underneath. Her nipples peaked instantly in the chill air and for a selfish second his only desire was for better lighting than the weak flashlight glow, so he could get a clearer look. He mentally shook himself and helped the woman back into her jacket, buttoning it up over bare flesh. Then covering her with the heavy warmth of his coat.
His hands were like ice, and shaking, as he tied the clean material around her tattered ankle. It seemed that there was no fresh blood and that the wounds may be starting to scab over, but it was hard to tell in the dim light. He prayed that Buffy would be wondering what was keeping them and starting to look for them any second. Maybe Rufus was leading her to them right now.
********* (earlier) Buffy's impression of the peculiar owner of the Sleep Tite Motel had matched Faith and Xander's. As she checked in and quickly scanned the dingy little office, she felt as if she'd stepped back in time. Her Slayer sense told her that Bernie wasn't a vamp, and a quick touch of his hand as he passed her the key, confirmed that he was indeed alive, so not a zombie. Demons could fool you with a very human face, as Anya and Halfrek were proof, still Buffy sensed that this very creepy man was just that. A man.
"So.... bet you don't get much traffic way out here," she stalled for time, hoping to get a glimpse of Mrs. Weird and Wednesday Adams.
"Nope." The charming host hawked up a wad of phlegm, spit it into his bandana, and gave it a quick exam before stuffing the handkerchief back in his pocket. He gazed blankly at Buffy, who grimaced at the disgusting display.
"I was lucky I saw your sign," she continued. "I've been driving for hours and I'm exhausted. Once I got off the highway, I got all turned around and ended up here." Bernie stared his indifference. Hoping to look like she had 'victim' stamped on her forehead, Buffy said helpfully, "My family's not expecting me for days and days. I just hope I make it there before Granny kicks off."
When she continued to hesitate and toy with the bell on the counter, he said, "Room's fourth in the row. Number fell off the door so don't look for one."
"Ookay." Buffy tried another tack. "Hey, you must get really get lonely running this place. You got a family or anything? They around here?"
"My woman's cookin' out back," he gestured with a thumb over one shoulder. As if suddenly remembering some long-forgotten etiquette, he added, "You get hungry later, you can have some barbecue."
"Mmm. Sounds good," Buffy shot him a dazzling grin. "I'll have to take you up on that. Well, see ya." She slipped out of the office and headed toward her room, jingling the keys in one hand. The sight of a practically albino little girl standing under a tree at the edge of the parking lot like a ghost, holding a blanket-wrapped bundle, stopped her in her tracks.
Buffy turned the wattage up on her smile and sauntered over to the child. "Hi. What you got there? Is that your dolly?" She brushed aside the blanket expecting to see a pink-cheeked vinyl baby doll and jumped back with a screech of horror. All her years of slaying still didn't prepare her for some of twisted shit she came across on the job. Darling Marcy was holding a mummified human baby up for her inspection.
Buffy recovered quickly, realizing this was her chance to pick the kid's brain for information. Acting as if she hadn't just freaked out, she stepped forward and oozed charm. "What a darling little thing! Where did you get her?"
Silence and a grave, cross-eyed, stare.
"Did your daddy bring you the doll, sweetheart?"
More silence.
"I bet he did. Maybe your mom and dad gave it to your for your birthday or something?"
The child's mouth opened, and Buffy waited........And waited.....
"This'un was too small, mama said. Not enough meat so she said I could keep her."
"Uh-huh." Buffy made agreeing sounds. Yes of course. Perfect logic. Too small to eat? What else would you do but make a doll out of it? She nodded and continued to pin a smile on her aching face.
The last rays of the sun disappeared behind the woods as Buffy stood regarding the little cannibal girl and deciding what her next move should be. A wild barking and rustling in the underbrush heralded the unexpected arrival of Xander's new pet, which came bounding from the trees and ran straight for them. Little Marcy shrieked and dropped her 'doll', grabbing at Buffy and trying to climb her like a scrawny monkey. Buffy resisted the urge to kick the repugnant child away from her, but pushed her firmly down, while shouting at Rufus to 'Sit'.
The Slayer scanned the darkening woods wondering how far behind the mutt Xander and Faith were. Marcy continued to howl in fear as the dog pranced around them, and the ruckus roused Bernie, who came out of the office and stared at them across the parking lot. Damn! This was not looking good. Best play ignorant.
Buffy waved at him, shouting, "Cute little girl you have here! I think she's afraid of this stray." She grabbed the dog's collar and gave Marcy a little push toward her dad. Quickly retrieving her dolly, the kid ran to him. Buffy then let go of Rufus and with another little wave, headed calmly toward her room. From the corner of her eye she saw the odd pair retreat back into the building.
Buffy unlocked her room and entered, standing just inside the door and scanning the outdoors. The dog tried to follow her into the room and continued panting, barking and pawing at her leg. The sinking feeling that the others were in trouble and wouldn't be popping out of the woods any time soon began to settle in. She wondered what horrors they might have found there. The idea of bumbling around trying to find them in the now dark forest wasn't attractive.
"You want me to follow you, don't you, Lassie?" she asked the dog drily. "Little Xander's in trouble? Take me to him!" Throwing caution to the wind, she sprinted across the parking lot again and plunged into the woods behind the canine, oblivious of the eyes watching from the Sleep Tite Motel.
************
Spike entered "The Hovel", the newer demon hangout that was giving Willy's serious competition. He was pretty well known around Sunnydale as the Slayer's paramour and didn't know if he could make the necessary contacts here without being recognized. Nevertheless, Spike jammed a black knit cap on his head, turned the collar of his coat up to hide as much of his face as possible, and made his entrance. So far, so good, he didn't recognize anyone in the place.
He slid onto a stool and asked the Barzai demon tending bar for a double shot of A-positive with a chaser of Dewars. The barkeep grunted and set him up.
"Hey, mate," Spike spoke confidentially, leaning in to the bar. "I heard this is the place to find a guy who'll set me up with a set of wheels?"
"Maybe." The Barzai was non-committal, but his eyes quickly shot over to a booth in the back, before returning to Spike.
"Can you put me on to him?"
Shrugging, the bartender returned to slinging drinks. Spike waited patiently, watched him whisper in the ear of a waitress, who nodded and sashayed away with a loaded tray balanced on one hand. From the corner of his eye he saw her deposit a drink at that corner booth, then lean in to deliver the message. He could only see the back of a nodding head.
He downed his drinks and asked for another shot. In a moment the waitress tapped his shoulder and gave him the go ahead, "He'll see you, honey," she gestured to the back, then lowered her voice. "Guy's a human, and don't look like much, but don't let him fool ya'. He can get what you need, but don't think he's weak and try to screw him over when it's time to pay. You don't wanna mess with Cletus."
'.....the slack-jawed yokel' sang the voice in Spike's mind. He stifled a grin and gave the waitress a curt nod before rising and heading over to the auto dealer. He slid into the booth across from someone who looked like the lovechild of Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble.
"You Maxwell?" Spike asked.
"I speak for him," the guy answered. "What can I get for ya?"
"Something late model that runs. The important thing is reflective windows. I'm gonna have to run it in daylight. Also, the paperwork should be clean."
"Can do. You show me some upfront cash and I'll show you what we have available."
"First, I want to know that no one's gonna be looking for it."
The neanderthal shook his head. "Not a problem. All our rides are guaranteed clean." He leaned in confidentially. "Cousin of Cletus's takes out the former owners, secures the vehicles, and passes 'em on to us. A little make-over, some fresh papers, and bingo, you got a safe ride, that'll stand up if you ever get pulled over."
Spike nodded. "Sounds good. I'm making the purchase for someone else, so just tell me what kind of cash we're talking and I'll arrange another meeting with you later."
After settling the terms, time and place, Spike quickly exited the bar. The connection between the motel owner and Maxwell seemed pretty clear. Now it only remained to find out how Buffy would want to handle it. He cursed her again for not taking the cell along on her expedition with Harris and the other Slayer. Didn't know why he'd bothered to get her the damn thing if she never had it with her when he needed to call.
Even though it was only humans involved in this scheme, he had an uneasy feeling about it. There was no way he could go back to the house and just sit on his hands til they showed up. Spike slid behind the wheel of Willow's sporty new car and revved the engine. He smiled, thinking how pissed she'd be if she knew Dawn had let him wheedle the keys away from her, then slipped it in gear and roared down the street to the highway that would take him to Buffy.
to be continued