In the Space of a Journey
Chapter Eleven
Sunnydale -- The Condo
Angel and Jenny had come out of the library only to collect Faith and take her in with them. From her position on the couch next to Terrance, Amy wondered what they were talking about in there. (Probably the night's schedule) she decided.
Amy noticed the odd looks she was getting from both Rio and Nicole, but she ignored them. She and Terrance had spent the entire day together getting to know each other, and she already liked him a lot. He was witty, charming, handsome... and the accent didn't hurt either. If his teammates couldn't accept that he might have feelings for someone not in their group, then they could just go jump in the Hellmouth as far as she was concerned.
"So," Terrance whispered, his breath tickling her ear, "what do you think they're talking about in there?"
"That was just what I was pondering," Amy replied softly, her smile widening.
"Great minds think alike, I suppose," Terrance answered with a wink.
Amy blushed. "I guess they're planning tonight's schedule. You know, them big leaders, us worker drones."
Terrance chuckled. "Rio said your Ms. Calendar is pretty demanding."
Amy shrugged. "That's true, but she's very good at what she does. I've learned a lot from her... I've just had to be very willing to follow orders."
"You know, I bet you're more ready than she thinks you are." Terrance stared deeply into her eyes. "I can see that you have talent... You just have to know what you want. Talents have big rewards, as long as you know when to grab the brass ring."
She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Is that how you got where you are? By grabbing the brass ring?"
"Let's just say that I knew what opportunities to take advantage of, and now I get to explore the world instead of moldering in some musty library." His serious expression dissolved into a smile. "And I got to meet you... that makes it all worthwhile."
"Thanks!" Amy heard a giggle, and realized it had come from her mouth. (What am I doing?) she asked herself. (I'm giggling and flirting... I'm acting like Cordelia Chase! Bad, Amy! Be mature!)
To change the subject, she asked, "So... do you know what your team is up to tonight?"
Terrance shook his head. "No. Faith's being very closed-mouthed, and, well, Angel and I haven't found the proper footing for a communicative relationship."
"You should try talking to him," Amy suggested. "I know he's kind of intimidating, but he's not too bad underneath."
Terrance's eyes narrowed. "He's a vampire, Amy. He could kill you where you stand."
"But he wouldn't..." Her voice trailed off and she felt a shiver run up and down her spine.
Then Terrance's expression lightened, as if he realized they were of different opinions on the subject. "So... do you know what *your* team is doing tonight?" he asked, echoing her question from earlier.
"I'm not sure," Amy answered, glad to be on a lighter topic of conversation, "but I think it's something big. Ms. Calendar said that Giles called her from England. He wants her to work on a spell derivation for him. I don't know what it is, though, or why he'd need it."
The conversation was interrupted by the door to the library opening. Angel walked out, followed by Faith, and Jenny shut the door behind them.
"Rio," Faith said, "You're going on patrol with Team A tonight."
The young warlock looked surprised, but tonight he didn't say anything that could be considered a contradiction of orders. Instead, he merely began to strap on his weapon's belt.
Giving her squad and Angel a meaningful look, Faith said, "Be ready to go in five."
Terrance stood up and began strapping on his belt. Amy stood next to him. He glanced away from her nervously.
"Um... do you want to go have breakfast again tomorrow?" he asked in a hesitant tone, as if he weren't sure of her acceptance.
A huge grin split her face, showing off her perfect, white teeth. "I'd love to, Terrance."
He sighed in relief. "Great. Meet you at the Rose Cup at nine?"
"How 'bout we make it ten?" Amy suggested. "It is my vacation after all."
"Sure," he agreed, smiling at her. "Anything for you."
A warm blush colored Amy's cheeks as she grinned at him foolishly. Jenny had to speak twice before her trainee heard her.
"Amy, would you go in the library and get me the parchment from the desk, please?"
Amy jumped and looked around to see Jenny staring at her with a raised eyebrow. Amy knew Jenny wasn't angry -- Jenny didn't get angry very easily, at least not at her -- but Amy hurried to do as she asked anyway. With one last glance at Terrance, Amy hurried into the library. She opened the door and flipped on the light. Then she gasped, startled to see Faith standing by the desk.
"What are you doing in here?" Amy asked sharply.
Faith gave Amy an imperious look. "I was just looking up an article in the newspaper. It seems we have an outbreak of feral vampires on our hands."
Amy raised an eyebrow, ignoring the bit about feral vampires for the moment. "Wasn't it a bit dark in here for reading?"
"Not for me." Faith gestured toward the window, where the half-moon was clearly visible. "I don't need that much light to read."
"Feel free to take the paper with you on your way out," Amy replied pointedly, stepping away from the door and walking over to the desk.
Faith smirked and dropped the newspaper back onto the cluttered desktop. "I've got what I need. Thanks." Then she slowly strutted out of the room. Seconds later, Amy heard the sounds of Angel and the commandoes leaving the condo.
"Weird," she mumbled to herself, shaking her head. Then she began rummaging across the desk for the requested parchment. She found it right under the discarded newspaper. Amy paused, glancing toward the door Faith had gone out of. "I wonder if she was really looking at the newspaper..." Then she heard Jenny call, and Amy hurried out of the room, filing the incident away to tell either Jenny or Angel about later.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Cell
"An' that brings us to me vision, an' why I came ta England in the first place... I think ye know everythin' from there ta our present predicament... Yer turn!"
Doyle grinned and leaned back against the wall, obviously waiting for Sonya to begin her story. But Sonya was still thinking about all he'd told her.
"You really live like that?" she asked him seriously. "On the run from demon money collectors and whatnot?"
He shrugged, the grin fading from his face. "It's a livin'. What can I say? I told ye about me an' Harry... after losin' her, nothin' seemed worth it any more. An' before I knew it, I was in too deep ta get out. I'm tryin', though... lem'me tell you. One o' these days I'm gonna get meself a real job, an' settle down again. I kinder miss teachin'... Maybe I'll take that up again... If we ever get outta this place!"
A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips for a minute. "Doyle, I promise I'm not trying to insult you or anything, but it's really hard to envision you teaching third grade! Monitoring the playground, supervising sack lunches, writing math problems on the blackboard? It's so not you!"
"Yeah, but it usta be me..." He looked pensive. "Those were some o' the happiest days o' me life..." Then, in typical Doyle fashion, he pushed the bad stuff away and plastered a big grin on his lips. "An' I never monitored the playground... I was out there playin' tag wi' the tykes! It's great fun, *and* great exercise!"
Sonya quickly refined her mental image of Doyle. Now that he said it, she really could see him with the third graders -- he'd fit in perfectly!
"Now, lassie," he chastised, breaking into her thoughts, "donae think yer gettin' off so easily! I told you the almost unabridged version o' me life... it's yer turn to do the same."
"It's really not very interesting," Sonya hedged.
"That's fine by me," Doyle replied easily. "As long as it fills the time. Besides, what else are we gonna do? Play I Spy? I spy a wall, I spy a window, I spy some bars... we're done. New game!"
Despite the underlying bleakness of his joke, Sonya found herself laughing... again. Her sides had started to ache. Some of Doyle's past had been hard to hear about, but other parts of it had been side-splitting. The Irishman sure knew how to tell a tale. And he was right -- they were at the mercy of their captors, and it didn't seem like they were going anywhere soon. She might as well be as honest with him as he had been with her.
She opened her mouth, and then shut it again. Sonya didn't know where to start or what to say. She never talked about herself when she could help it...
"What's wrong?" Doyle asked. He cocked his head to the side and examined her with dark eyes that seemed to see right through her. "Stage fright? There's nothin' ta be scared of here, I swear. I'm a good listener."
"I just... I just don't know where to start," Sonya admitted.
"How 'bout at the beginnin'?" Doyle suggested.
"The beginning..." Sonya's eyes took on a hazy, unfocused sheen as she gazed inward, back into the past. And then the floodgates opened, and she began to speak, almost forgetting Doyle was even in the same room.
"Well, I guess the beginning was, I was born. Somewhere I had a mother and a father, but whoever they were, they didn't want me, so I ended up in this orphanage. But no one there wanted me either. I don't remember it too well, just this weird feeling of never knowing when the girl in the bed next to mine would get adopted, and knowing I never would. I tried to be nice, at first. I really thought if I was nice enough, or good enough, or pretty enough, then a mommy and a daddy would want to take me home with them and I'd live happily ever after, like a princess in a book of fairy tales. But that didn't happen...
"And then, one day, when I was almost seven, a man and a woman showed up, just like in my dreams. They looked so neat and clean, and they asked to see me by name. The man had kind of gray hair and glasses, and the woman was young and blonde. They had accents, British ones, but I didn't know that then. And that was the first time I ever saw someone in a tweed suit. Before I knew what was happening, they had my stuff packed and I was out of there. 'This is it,' I told myself. 'Now you're going to have a real home, and a real Mommy and Daddy...' But it didn't work out that way.
"They took me to this house in the suburbs. The first thing I remember about it was this broken shutter. It just hung there from one hinge, and it creaked when the wind blew. I thought it was going to fall down. There was a tricycle upside down in the yard, and a doll without any hair. One of her eyes was missing, too... I thought it was the saddest thing I had ever seen. The man and woman took me and my suitcase up to the front porch, and they rang the bell. An older woman answered. The whole thing is so vivid, even now... She was wearing a torn house coat and her hair was a mess. She looked worn out. I could hear kids screaming in the back of the house. The man gave her my suitcase and a white envelope, and the woman pushed me over the threshold, and then they just drove away... Later I found out that Mr. and Mrs. Crantz were being paid to keep me by the Council, but at the time I didn't understand what was happening. I remember dodging away from Mrs. Crantz and running after their car, but they didn't stop. They just drove away and left me there.
"I did get my own room, so that was good. It was a tiny room, a closet really, without even a window, but it was mine. It had a mattress, a dresser and a cardboard box for my stuff. Mr. and Mrs. Crantz took in foster children for government subsidies. The Council must've given them extra for me... Somehow they knew I was a potential Slayer. You'd think they would have taken me away for training, but maybe they never really thought I'd get Chosen... Who knows?
"I guess the only reason I had that closet to myself was that no one else could stand to be in there for very long. Mrs. Crantz had a little claustrophobia problem. I've never had that problem. When I got there, I was the youngest of five kids, but the numbers were always changing. It wasn't any use to get attached to anyone because soon enough they'd run away, they'd get sent to juvie, or the Crantzes would send them back because they 'didn't fit in.' When I left I was the oldest of nine, still living in the closet at fourteen years old. I had to help take care of the little ones after school -- a fulltime job for which I never got paid. But I guess I can consider myself lucky in some respects. The Crantzes never made any pretense of loving any of us, or really caring what would happen to us, but at least they never hurt us. You hear horror stories of foster parents, and regular parents for that matter, who beat up their kids, or who sexually abuse them. None of that happened.
"And I had athletics at school to keep me occupied. There wasn't any time for friends because I had to help with the other kids, and who would want to be friends with one of those weird Crantz misfits anyway? But I could do sports. I couldn't do basketball or softball because I couldn't practice much after school, but the track coach let me be on the team if I promised to work out at home. My freshman year, I actually won a race at the track meet against a group of juniors and seniors. Little did I know that I had a genetic advantage.
"And then one day after school I got this jolt. I felt energized. It was weird. I didn't know what was going on, but when I did my work out I ran three times as far as usual and I was barely winded. The next morning there was a knock at my door, and there stood this guy in a tweed suit. He had glasses and a British accent. He said his name was Mr. Giles, and he was there to take me for training. He gave Mr. and Mrs. Crantz a letter, I threw my stuff in my suitcase and my cardboard box, and he took me to Sunnydale.
"I'll tell you, the first time I saw my room at his condo, I almost passed out. Now I know it isn't that big, but it seemed like a palace to me. There was a real bed, a table, a dresser, a closet, my own bathroom... such luxury. And no kids to take care of. And then he told me the catch. I was the Chosen One -- the one girl in the whole world who had the strength and skill to slay vampires and other minions of darkness. Of course, he neglected to mention to me that I wasn't really supposed to get the power. It was supposed to go to Buffy, I found out later. Apparently, there are at least a dozen girls, maybe more, at a time who *could* get Chosen, and we all have aptitude for things like weapons, strategy and fighting. But only one gets the powers. I don't know what force or whatever is behind the Choosing, and why they Choose who they Choose, but I'm glad it was me. I would never have asked Buffy to get hit by that truck, and I'm sorry for the pain she went through, but if I hadn't been Chosen, I would *still* be living in the Crantz house!
"That first year in Sunnydale is a blur. I went to school, where I still didn't have time to make friends, but at least this time the job was a good one. And I had Giles. He's not much on bonding, but he just doesn't know how good he is at it... I trained a lot, and it was fun. The most fun I ever had -- even if the work was hard. There's the vampire, Angel -- he was cursed with a soul. He helped me some, but the best thing about him is fighting with him. As much as I hate to admit it, he taught me a few things here and there. And I remember the first time I met Xander... I saved him from becoming a vampire at the hand of his former best friend -- gotta love vampires with ties to the past. And after that, I couldn't shake him. Which turned out to be lucky for me when I met my match, this vampire they called The Master. I killed him, but his underground lair caved in and snapped my spine... But Xander saved my life. He pulled me out of there, and Giles promised they'd find a way to heal me. He was afraid the Council would have me killed so the next Slayer could be called -- that's why he's in trouble now, because he lied to them, and instead of curing me, he found a way to move the powers to Buffy..."
It was like once the words started, Sonya couldn't make them stop. She talked about Buffy and Xander, and her old feelings for Xander. She told Doyle about being in a wheelchair, and the horrible, trapped feeling it gave her just to remember it. There was the story about the Order of Taraka, and Willow's vampire civil war against Spike. And then there was the story of Nathan, and how he made her secret desires come true in the worst possible ways. The only positive outcome of that had been her renewed ability to walk, for however long it lasted. And then there was Oz. She didn't know what to say about Oz. She liked him... a lot. And she thought he liked her, but somehow they never really managed to get it all straight. Maybe they had journeyed too far into the Friend Zone to ever get into a less platonic relationship...
"Nah, that's just a bunch o' baloney!"
Sonya's monologue trailed to a halt, and she looked up to see Doyle's brown eyes on her with a knowing gaze. It was the first time he'd spoken since she'd started her story... Sonya glanced at her wrist and sighed. They'd taken her watch, as well as her stake. Apparently they didn't want her to know how long she'd been here. But it had been a very long time. Her throat was scratchy, she'd been talking so much. But Doyle was a really good listener.
"What?" she asked.
"That you an' Oz will never have somethin'," Doyle answered firmly. "I may have been preoccupied, but even then I saw how he looks at ye. That one may not be a lad for many words, but ye can see it all in his eyes."
"I know..." Sonya sighed.
Doyle slapped his knee. "Ye see! That was a lover's sigh."
"Well, what about you?" Sonya tried to get the spotlight off of her for a minute. It had been on her too long. "I've seen the sparks between you and Miss Cordelia Chase. Don't you think she's a little bit young for you?"
"Hey, who cares 'bout age when yer talkin' romance?" Doyle replied.
"Statutory rape laws," Sonya retorted. Then she added, "But if memory serves me right, she turned seventeen a month or so ago... I guess you're safe."
Doyle's mouth fell open. "Yer tellin' me she's only seventeen?"
"Yup!" Sonya borrowed one of Oz's favorite comebacks -- sometimes one word was really all you needed.
"But she's so... so..."
Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by the scraping sound of the key in the lock. Doyle and Sonya both got to their feet and moved next to each other.
"If it's something bad, we fight it together," Sonya said.
Doyle nodded. "Agreed." Then he winked at her. "But if it's got a gun, I'm lettin' you take all the bullets!"
Sonya barely had time for a surprised laugh when the metal door slid back...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- The Waterfront
A chilly wind rose from the water, blowing a light fog into Sunnydale Harbor. Angel didn't really like the fog -- it made his hair flat, from what he could tell -- but he could survive in it. It wasn't bad enough that they couldn't see, and even if it got worse, he could still hear and smell enough to find what they were looking for... if it was there.
He glanced over at Faith. The brunette was trading flirtatious glances with a large guy dressed in black leather standing in the door of one of the run-down bars on the waterfront. Angel frowned.
"Could we keep our mind on business, please?" he said sarcastically.
Faith turned her head and eyeballed Angel with a pout. "You're ruining my fun. Bubba over there would have bought me all the drinks I wanted. It could have been a fun evening."
"He would have been expecting a... payment," Angel felt obligated to mention.
"Of course!" Faith replied in a well-duh tone. "And if I like him, I'd give it to him, and if I didn't, I'd crush his balls if he tried to force it. I'm very well equipped to take care of myself." Her crimson lips curled up in a sneer, and she spoke in an overdone Southern accent while fluttering her eyelashes at him. "But ah'm oh-so glad my manly man escort dah-cided to tell me befoah ah ran amuck..."
Angel turned away from her and began scanning the harbor again. He was glad they'd finally walked far enough that Bubba was out of eyesight. "You can do whatever you want in your own time, Faith, but right now we're supposed to be hunting feral vampires."
All the playfulness dropped out of her face and she glared at him. "Of course, I wouldn't do that right now! I might set something up for later, but right now we're working! And, just for your information, I've been scanning this whole time, and I haven't seen anything out of place. Besides we haven't reached the place where they found the victims of the 'wild dog attack' yet. That was Slip 19." She gestured to the dock they were passing at that moment. "This is Slip 15."
He looked at her in surprise. "You had time to read the article?" He'd read it, of course, but he hadn't thought Faith had.
"Of course!" Faith snapped. "You might want to keep all the information for yourself, but I do not go into battles blind!"
Angel thought about a comeback, but they were getting close to Slip 19. He motioned her to be quiet, and they walked carefully up to the place. The victims had been found on the dock, as if they'd been waylaid on their way to board the pleasure boat docked in the slip. Angle had wondered what the couple was doing going out for a sail at night, but he knew there was no way to tell with some people. He glanced at Faith out of the corner of his eye. She seemed like the type to go on a pleasure cruise at night -- probably with a guy like Bubba! He scowled.
Then suddenly, his enhanced hearing picked up something. A scream, coming from the other direction, the direction away from the harbor.
"Come on!" he said to Faith. "Something's happening that way."
Angel took off at a run, trusting that Faith would follow. He followed the sound through the first line of waterfront businesses. He threaded his way through an alley, and came out on another street. He stopped, straining his ears for another sound. "One more time," he urged silently, "just one more time. I've almost got it." Then he realized Faith wasn't behind him, but before Angel could do anything about it, he heard the scream again, and he was off. He'd have to handle this by himself.
When he entered a darkened alley a few yards away, he saw a young girl crouching in a corner. Her escape route was blocked by a slender young man with slicked back red hair.
"Excuse me," Angel said, laying a hand on the guy's shoulder. "I think the lady would like to leave."
The guy turned around to reveal the fangs and ridged forehead of a vampire. In a deep voice he replied, "I don't think so, now get outta here buddy, or you're next."
Angel grinned, and slowly his face morphed into that of a vampire. His fangs glinted in the moonlight as his smile widened. "You should be more careful who you're talking to... 'buddy!' Now let the lady alone!"
The vamp looked stunned, but he wasn't willing to be scared off. "No, way, man. This is my meal. Find your own!" He threw at punch toward Angel, testing the waters.
Angel returned the punch easily, and then he grabbed the guy's other fist and pushed it backwards until his arm broke. The cracking noise echoed around the alley. The red headed vamp howled in agony and rage. Angel was unmoved. The screams from the girl in the corner had dwindled down to tiny whimpers of pain.
The red head lunged at Angel with his good arm outstretched. That was a mistake. Angel gripped the arm and broke it over his knee. The vampire looked up at Angel in complete surprise, his broken limbs hanging lifeless at his sides. Of course, Angel knew that the dude's preternatural healing abilities would kick in momentarily, so he had to make his move before that. Angel pulled a stake out of the pocket of his trench coat and slammed it into the vampire's chest. The vampire stared down at the intrusive bit of wood in surprise before bursting into a cloud of dust.
Angel returned his stake to his pocket, and then took several calming, cleansing breaths. After a second, his game face vanished, and he turned back to the girl. "You're all right now. You can go."
The girl was young, barely thirteen. Her pale skin was dirty and streaked with tears. A bruise marred one cheek, and her blue-black hair was matted and covered with vampire dust. She stared at his hand doubtfully, obviously remembering that he had the same visage as her attacker. "You're not going to..."
"No," Angel answered, shaking his head. "You're free to go. Go home."
The girl's chin trembled. Angel wondered if she'd be safe walking to wherever her home might be. She was definitely too young to drive. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of bills. Selecting two, he put them into her hand. "This is for a cab. That way no one else can jump you."
"Th... thank you," the girl stammered, but she still didn't seem inclined to move.
Angel decided that she might feel better if he left. He walked out of the alley and across the street. From the shadows, he watched the girl walk hesitantly out of the alley and hail a cab.
"Forces of good, one; minions of darkness, zero!"
Angel turned to see Faith standing behind him, a pleased grin on her face. "Where were you?" he demanded angrily. "I thought we were in this together."
Faith shrugged. "You ran off so fast, I didn't see which way you went. When I finally caught up to you, it seemed you had the situation well in hand." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was free for once of any sarcasm or hostility. "And I wanted to know if you'd really dust him, one of your own kind. But you did. I guess you're on the level after all."
Angel rolled his eyes. "I've been saying so all along..."
"Well, I didn't really believe it before." Her tone went back to its normal edgy sound when she added, "And you missed something when you went running off like that."
"What? The girl was in danger. That's my job."
"I saw one, but it's long gone by now."
"A feral vampire?"
"Yep. And we missed tracking it to its lair because some teenaged bimbette decided to take a stroll on the water front looking for some excitement!" Faith shook her head, making her hair sway back and forth. "The girls in this town really need to take a self defense class or something if they're gonna walk the streets at night."
"I'm sure you could teach them everything they need to know," Angel replied in a snide tone. "Especially on how to pick up guys in bars." Frustration at missing what could have been their only lead made him tense. He knew he was taking it out on Faith, but he didn't really care. She'd been taking things out on him since the first moment he met her.
The sneer came back to her lips. "If I'd known it would make you so jealous, I would have done it a long time ago," she replied in a falsely sweet tone of voice. Then she turned and began walking back toward Slip 19. "Now, c'mon, hero-boy. Let's give the place a once over. Maybe we can find a clue."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Compound
"Sir, it's your contact in Sunnydale."
The man nodded, effectively dismissing the messenger, and then he picked up the phone, pressing the button that activated his secure line.
"You have information?"
"Things are progressing on this end. Apparently there's been an outbreak of feral vampires."
"How does that effect your mission?"
"It's the perfect cover."
"What about the vampire?"
"Intrusive, but under control. He has the witches wrapped around his little finger, the dumb sluts."
"Good. Anything else?"
"Giles called them today."
"What about?"
"He wants them to prepare some kind of spell for him. I'm not sure what it does or why he wants it, but I'll have that information soon."
"Call me as soon as you know more details. Day or night."
"Yes, sir. I will."
"I'll be waiting." Then the man hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. Swivelling around so he faced the window, he looked out into the golden afternoon to see the Slayer and her tour group headed back toward the main part of the Compound. He smiled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Compound
When she, Xander, her mother, Marcus and Gwendolyn got back to the mansion, Buffy felt like more information had been stuffed into her head in the last hour than in a whole week's worth of algebra classes. The Compound had every amenity, and they'd toured them all -- everything from twenty-four hour computer/internet access in what had to be the biggest private library ever built (with the largest collection of occult books) to a stable full of horses, to indoor and outdoor exercise courts with any fitness tool you could ask for.
"And, of course, you're welcome to use the courts at any time while you're here," Marcus was saying to Buffy. "They were first built for Slayer training, back in the days when most Slayers were brought here for training before we sent them off into battle."
Buffy wondered what that would have been like -- to have weeks, or months or more to train before coming face-to-face with one's first vampire. Then she realized Marcus was still talking.
"...but things are different now. The evil more pervasive. The time away from the battle just can't be spared." He seemed to catch himself babbling, and suddenly stopped.
They walked up the front steps, and Gwendolyn gave the younger man a stern look, and then asked, "Is there anywhere else you'd like to go, Buffy?"
"Actually," Buffy said, "I'd really like to go to the ladies' room, if you don't mind."
"Of course," Gwendolyn agreed. "There's one right down this hall. If you like, we'll take your mother and your friend back to the lounge, and you can meet us there, Buffy."
Buffy glanced at the others, and they seemed amenable. Marcus was smiling at her. She felt odd being deferred to so much, especially by someone like Gwendolyn, a woman so much older than herself. But it was kind of nice, in a way. She remembered what Xander had said about her being like a celebrity to the Watchers, and a small smile crossed her lips.
Aloud, she said, "That's fine. I remember where the lounge is." Then she went into the ladies' room, glad for the chance to be alone for a minute. After taking care of business, Buffy washed her hands in the marble sink and dried them on a fluffy, maroon towel. Then she opened her oversized purse, and dug around for her lipstick. Her hand brushed something unfamiliar. Something thin with a hard edge. Frowning, she pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. Her name was written in script across the front.
After glancing around to make sure she was alone, Buffy tore open the envelope. The odd feeling in her stomach solidified into several five-tone butterflies when she recognized the letter head as the same from the letter Giles had gotten so many months before. The letter was dated with today's date. The handwriting was exceptionally neat and perfect. If it hadn't obviously been written in ink, she would have suspected someone of using a script-like computer font to print this letter. There were no names other than hers on the letter. She began to read, the feeling in her stomach getting worse with each word.
Buffy -- The Council is not always what it seems. There are some who would rather that Giles, Sonya and Doyle did not return to America again. Everyone here with you is in danger, even you, if they do not find you amenable to their plans. Be careful whom you trust. Sincerely, a friend.
Her heart was beating fast, and little beads of sweat decorated her forehead. Buffy wet the corner of the towel and used it to cool of her hot face. Now what was she supposed to do? From this note, someone here at the Compound knew where Doyle and Sonya were. But they didn't give her enough information to mount a rescue. And it sounded like whoever wrote this note thought Giles was about to be railroaded during the tribunal.
She wondered if there was any way it was some kind of trick -- a test of her loyalty to the Council or something. But that seemed ridiculous. When she got herself back under control, Buffy put the letter back in the envelope and slid it into the lining of her purse so no casual glance could reveal it. She had a feeling that if someone found it on her person, it could be bad. Then she left the bathroom, and headed for the lounge, hoping that she would soon have a chance to speak with Giles. He was the only one who might know what this meant -- he was the only one of them with any knowledge about the inner workings of the Council.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Slip 19
"There's nothing here!" Angel exclaimed in frustration, throwing down the board he'd been examining for clues. It had blood on it, he could smell it, but it was the blood of the victims, not a new clue. The board clattered to the ground, coming to a stop beside the chalk outlines on the ground. Someone -- probably a denizen of the waterfront who disliked the police -- had removed the yellow police tape long before Angel and Faith got there, but the chalk outlines of the dead man and woman remained, and probably would remain until the next rainfall.
Faith looked up from her position on the deck of the boat. "There's nothing here either."
Angel aimed a kick at the side of the boat, hoping to vent a little of the anger and the sense of helplessness that were overwhelming him. There was a dull thud as the side of the boat dented in. Angel lowered his foot, a little embarrassed.
Faith was grinning at him. "That's it, it's time for us to pack it in." She glanced at her watch. "It's past one, and our areas have all been patrolled. You even dusted a vamp. I'd say we call this a night well spent and find something more fun to do."
"We have to go back to the condo," Angel said. "They'll be waiting for us with reports." The idea of quitting for the night was appealing, however, and he decided that he might actually do that for once. They weren't getting anything accomplished here, so what was the point of hanging around.
"How boring is that?" Faith quirked an eyebrow at him. "You'd think that in all the decades you've been alive, you'd have learned something a little more fun than that."
"In all my decades, what I've learned is to take responsibility," Angel replied. "That's what having a soul means. When the demon was in control of my body, I wreaked havoc, killing without mercy, taking whatever I wanted, and now there are consequences to pay."
"Play now, pay later?" she asked.
"Something like that," Angel replied. He knew there was no way to make her understand. She was, and always had been, a human. She'd never done anything to atone for. "So, are you coming back with me?"
Faith hopped out of the boat, landing on the dock with a feline grace. She seemed to be pondering the notion. "You know, I don't think so. You want to be the big leader, Angel, you go back. I'm taking the rest of the night off." Reaching for one of the holsters on her belt (most of the things on her belt were covered by leather, so her arsenal wasn't obvious when they walked down the street), she unclipped it and pulled out her radio.
"Terrance," she called, holding down the talk button. "Do you read me?"
"Yes, I'm here," came the Brit's recognizable accent.
"Find anything?" Faith asked, taking care of business first, Angel noted.
"No," Terrance answered. "No sign of the ferals anywhere. We were going to do one more sweep and then rendezvous with you back at the condo."
"Check that," Faith replied. "I think we've all had a pretty rough time getting adjusted here, and I don't know about you, but I'm still adjusting to the jet lag factor. Save your reports for tomorrow, and take the rest of the night off for some sleep or whatever. If you need me, use the radio. I'll have it on. Otherwise, I'll see you back at the motel later."
"Sounds good," Terrance said, and the other two commandos could be heard making happy noises in the background. "Thank you, Faith. Some time will be good."
"Don't forget," Faith cautioned. "If you see any trouble, you still have to deal with it, no matter what you're doing."
"Of course!" Terrance sounded affronted, like he couldn't believe she would think such a thing of him.
Faith apparently heard the same thing in his voice, and added, "I know you will, but I just have to make the order. Over and out."
"Over and out," Terrance said in a clipped tone. Then Faith turned off and holstered her radio.
She looked at Angel with her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow night. Have fun back at the condo." The she turned and began strolling slowly back down the waterfront in the direction of Bubba and his bar.
Angel watched her hips sway back and forth until her and her black suit disappeared into the shadows. Then he reluctantly turned to head back to the condo. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. What kind of trouble would Faith get into on her own?
"I'd better go keep an eye on her," Angel decided. "Yeah, that would be the best thing for everybody." He pulled his brand new cellular phone out of his pocket and punched in the number of the condo, now glad that he'd finally made the investment. When Jenny answered, Angel quickly told her about the sighting and how they'd lost it with no trace because of the girl in the alley. Then he said they were giving up for the night, and would start again fresh the next evening. Jenny didn't seem extremely pleased, but she didn't contradict him. She said she and Amy had a little more work to do on the spell for Giles, and then they would go home as well. A minute later, Angel ended the call, and began to walk in the direction Faith had disappeared.
Chapter Eleven
Sunnydale -- The Condo
Angel and Jenny had come out of the library only to collect Faith and take her in with them. From her position on the couch next to Terrance, Amy wondered what they were talking about in there. (Probably the night's schedule) she decided.
Amy noticed the odd looks she was getting from both Rio and Nicole, but she ignored them. She and Terrance had spent the entire day together getting to know each other, and she already liked him a lot. He was witty, charming, handsome... and the accent didn't hurt either. If his teammates couldn't accept that he might have feelings for someone not in their group, then they could just go jump in the Hellmouth as far as she was concerned.
"So," Terrance whispered, his breath tickling her ear, "what do you think they're talking about in there?"
"That was just what I was pondering," Amy replied softly, her smile widening.
"Great minds think alike, I suppose," Terrance answered with a wink.
Amy blushed. "I guess they're planning tonight's schedule. You know, them big leaders, us worker drones."
Terrance chuckled. "Rio said your Ms. Calendar is pretty demanding."
Amy shrugged. "That's true, but she's very good at what she does. I've learned a lot from her... I've just had to be very willing to follow orders."
"You know, I bet you're more ready than she thinks you are." Terrance stared deeply into her eyes. "I can see that you have talent... You just have to know what you want. Talents have big rewards, as long as you know when to grab the brass ring."
She cocked her head to the side curiously. "Is that how you got where you are? By grabbing the brass ring?"
"Let's just say that I knew what opportunities to take advantage of, and now I get to explore the world instead of moldering in some musty library." His serious expression dissolved into a smile. "And I got to meet you... that makes it all worthwhile."
"Thanks!" Amy heard a giggle, and realized it had come from her mouth. (What am I doing?) she asked herself. (I'm giggling and flirting... I'm acting like Cordelia Chase! Bad, Amy! Be mature!)
To change the subject, she asked, "So... do you know what your team is up to tonight?"
Terrance shook his head. "No. Faith's being very closed-mouthed, and, well, Angel and I haven't found the proper footing for a communicative relationship."
"You should try talking to him," Amy suggested. "I know he's kind of intimidating, but he's not too bad underneath."
Terrance's eyes narrowed. "He's a vampire, Amy. He could kill you where you stand."
"But he wouldn't..." Her voice trailed off and she felt a shiver run up and down her spine.
Then Terrance's expression lightened, as if he realized they were of different opinions on the subject. "So... do you know what *your* team is doing tonight?" he asked, echoing her question from earlier.
"I'm not sure," Amy answered, glad to be on a lighter topic of conversation, "but I think it's something big. Ms. Calendar said that Giles called her from England. He wants her to work on a spell derivation for him. I don't know what it is, though, or why he'd need it."
The conversation was interrupted by the door to the library opening. Angel walked out, followed by Faith, and Jenny shut the door behind them.
"Rio," Faith said, "You're going on patrol with Team A tonight."
The young warlock looked surprised, but tonight he didn't say anything that could be considered a contradiction of orders. Instead, he merely began to strap on his weapon's belt.
Giving her squad and Angel a meaningful look, Faith said, "Be ready to go in five."
Terrance stood up and began strapping on his belt. Amy stood next to him. He glanced away from her nervously.
"Um... do you want to go have breakfast again tomorrow?" he asked in a hesitant tone, as if he weren't sure of her acceptance.
A huge grin split her face, showing off her perfect, white teeth. "I'd love to, Terrance."
He sighed in relief. "Great. Meet you at the Rose Cup at nine?"
"How 'bout we make it ten?" Amy suggested. "It is my vacation after all."
"Sure," he agreed, smiling at her. "Anything for you."
A warm blush colored Amy's cheeks as she grinned at him foolishly. Jenny had to speak twice before her trainee heard her.
"Amy, would you go in the library and get me the parchment from the desk, please?"
Amy jumped and looked around to see Jenny staring at her with a raised eyebrow. Amy knew Jenny wasn't angry -- Jenny didn't get angry very easily, at least not at her -- but Amy hurried to do as she asked anyway. With one last glance at Terrance, Amy hurried into the library. She opened the door and flipped on the light. Then she gasped, startled to see Faith standing by the desk.
"What are you doing in here?" Amy asked sharply.
Faith gave Amy an imperious look. "I was just looking up an article in the newspaper. It seems we have an outbreak of feral vampires on our hands."
Amy raised an eyebrow, ignoring the bit about feral vampires for the moment. "Wasn't it a bit dark in here for reading?"
"Not for me." Faith gestured toward the window, where the half-moon was clearly visible. "I don't need that much light to read."
"Feel free to take the paper with you on your way out," Amy replied pointedly, stepping away from the door and walking over to the desk.
Faith smirked and dropped the newspaper back onto the cluttered desktop. "I've got what I need. Thanks." Then she slowly strutted out of the room. Seconds later, Amy heard the sounds of Angel and the commandoes leaving the condo.
"Weird," she mumbled to herself, shaking her head. Then she began rummaging across the desk for the requested parchment. She found it right under the discarded newspaper. Amy paused, glancing toward the door Faith had gone out of. "I wonder if she was really looking at the newspaper..." Then she heard Jenny call, and Amy hurried out of the room, filing the incident away to tell either Jenny or Angel about later.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Cell
"An' that brings us to me vision, an' why I came ta England in the first place... I think ye know everythin' from there ta our present predicament... Yer turn!"
Doyle grinned and leaned back against the wall, obviously waiting for Sonya to begin her story. But Sonya was still thinking about all he'd told her.
"You really live like that?" she asked him seriously. "On the run from demon money collectors and whatnot?"
He shrugged, the grin fading from his face. "It's a livin'. What can I say? I told ye about me an' Harry... after losin' her, nothin' seemed worth it any more. An' before I knew it, I was in too deep ta get out. I'm tryin', though... lem'me tell you. One o' these days I'm gonna get meself a real job, an' settle down again. I kinder miss teachin'... Maybe I'll take that up again... If we ever get outta this place!"
A ghost of a smile appeared on her lips for a minute. "Doyle, I promise I'm not trying to insult you or anything, but it's really hard to envision you teaching third grade! Monitoring the playground, supervising sack lunches, writing math problems on the blackboard? It's so not you!"
"Yeah, but it usta be me..." He looked pensive. "Those were some o' the happiest days o' me life..." Then, in typical Doyle fashion, he pushed the bad stuff away and plastered a big grin on his lips. "An' I never monitored the playground... I was out there playin' tag wi' the tykes! It's great fun, *and* great exercise!"
Sonya quickly refined her mental image of Doyle. Now that he said it, she really could see him with the third graders -- he'd fit in perfectly!
"Now, lassie," he chastised, breaking into her thoughts, "donae think yer gettin' off so easily! I told you the almost unabridged version o' me life... it's yer turn to do the same."
"It's really not very interesting," Sonya hedged.
"That's fine by me," Doyle replied easily. "As long as it fills the time. Besides, what else are we gonna do? Play I Spy? I spy a wall, I spy a window, I spy some bars... we're done. New game!"
Despite the underlying bleakness of his joke, Sonya found herself laughing... again. Her sides had started to ache. Some of Doyle's past had been hard to hear about, but other parts of it had been side-splitting. The Irishman sure knew how to tell a tale. And he was right -- they were at the mercy of their captors, and it didn't seem like they were going anywhere soon. She might as well be as honest with him as he had been with her.
She opened her mouth, and then shut it again. Sonya didn't know where to start or what to say. She never talked about herself when she could help it...
"What's wrong?" Doyle asked. He cocked his head to the side and examined her with dark eyes that seemed to see right through her. "Stage fright? There's nothin' ta be scared of here, I swear. I'm a good listener."
"I just... I just don't know where to start," Sonya admitted.
"How 'bout at the beginnin'?" Doyle suggested.
"The beginning..." Sonya's eyes took on a hazy, unfocused sheen as she gazed inward, back into the past. And then the floodgates opened, and she began to speak, almost forgetting Doyle was even in the same room.
"Well, I guess the beginning was, I was born. Somewhere I had a mother and a father, but whoever they were, they didn't want me, so I ended up in this orphanage. But no one there wanted me either. I don't remember it too well, just this weird feeling of never knowing when the girl in the bed next to mine would get adopted, and knowing I never would. I tried to be nice, at first. I really thought if I was nice enough, or good enough, or pretty enough, then a mommy and a daddy would want to take me home with them and I'd live happily ever after, like a princess in a book of fairy tales. But that didn't happen...
"And then, one day, when I was almost seven, a man and a woman showed up, just like in my dreams. They looked so neat and clean, and they asked to see me by name. The man had kind of gray hair and glasses, and the woman was young and blonde. They had accents, British ones, but I didn't know that then. And that was the first time I ever saw someone in a tweed suit. Before I knew what was happening, they had my stuff packed and I was out of there. 'This is it,' I told myself. 'Now you're going to have a real home, and a real Mommy and Daddy...' But it didn't work out that way.
"They took me to this house in the suburbs. The first thing I remember about it was this broken shutter. It just hung there from one hinge, and it creaked when the wind blew. I thought it was going to fall down. There was a tricycle upside down in the yard, and a doll without any hair. One of her eyes was missing, too... I thought it was the saddest thing I had ever seen. The man and woman took me and my suitcase up to the front porch, and they rang the bell. An older woman answered. The whole thing is so vivid, even now... She was wearing a torn house coat and her hair was a mess. She looked worn out. I could hear kids screaming in the back of the house. The man gave her my suitcase and a white envelope, and the woman pushed me over the threshold, and then they just drove away... Later I found out that Mr. and Mrs. Crantz were being paid to keep me by the Council, but at the time I didn't understand what was happening. I remember dodging away from Mrs. Crantz and running after their car, but they didn't stop. They just drove away and left me there.
"I did get my own room, so that was good. It was a tiny room, a closet really, without even a window, but it was mine. It had a mattress, a dresser and a cardboard box for my stuff. Mr. and Mrs. Crantz took in foster children for government subsidies. The Council must've given them extra for me... Somehow they knew I was a potential Slayer. You'd think they would have taken me away for training, but maybe they never really thought I'd get Chosen... Who knows?
"I guess the only reason I had that closet to myself was that no one else could stand to be in there for very long. Mrs. Crantz had a little claustrophobia problem. I've never had that problem. When I got there, I was the youngest of five kids, but the numbers were always changing. It wasn't any use to get attached to anyone because soon enough they'd run away, they'd get sent to juvie, or the Crantzes would send them back because they 'didn't fit in.' When I left I was the oldest of nine, still living in the closet at fourteen years old. I had to help take care of the little ones after school -- a fulltime job for which I never got paid. But I guess I can consider myself lucky in some respects. The Crantzes never made any pretense of loving any of us, or really caring what would happen to us, but at least they never hurt us. You hear horror stories of foster parents, and regular parents for that matter, who beat up their kids, or who sexually abuse them. None of that happened.
"And I had athletics at school to keep me occupied. There wasn't any time for friends because I had to help with the other kids, and who would want to be friends with one of those weird Crantz misfits anyway? But I could do sports. I couldn't do basketball or softball because I couldn't practice much after school, but the track coach let me be on the team if I promised to work out at home. My freshman year, I actually won a race at the track meet against a group of juniors and seniors. Little did I know that I had a genetic advantage.
"And then one day after school I got this jolt. I felt energized. It was weird. I didn't know what was going on, but when I did my work out I ran three times as far as usual and I was barely winded. The next morning there was a knock at my door, and there stood this guy in a tweed suit. He had glasses and a British accent. He said his name was Mr. Giles, and he was there to take me for training. He gave Mr. and Mrs. Crantz a letter, I threw my stuff in my suitcase and my cardboard box, and he took me to Sunnydale.
"I'll tell you, the first time I saw my room at his condo, I almost passed out. Now I know it isn't that big, but it seemed like a palace to me. There was a real bed, a table, a dresser, a closet, my own bathroom... such luxury. And no kids to take care of. And then he told me the catch. I was the Chosen One -- the one girl in the whole world who had the strength and skill to slay vampires and other minions of darkness. Of course, he neglected to mention to me that I wasn't really supposed to get the power. It was supposed to go to Buffy, I found out later. Apparently, there are at least a dozen girls, maybe more, at a time who *could* get Chosen, and we all have aptitude for things like weapons, strategy and fighting. But only one gets the powers. I don't know what force or whatever is behind the Choosing, and why they Choose who they Choose, but I'm glad it was me. I would never have asked Buffy to get hit by that truck, and I'm sorry for the pain she went through, but if I hadn't been Chosen, I would *still* be living in the Crantz house!
"That first year in Sunnydale is a blur. I went to school, where I still didn't have time to make friends, but at least this time the job was a good one. And I had Giles. He's not much on bonding, but he just doesn't know how good he is at it... I trained a lot, and it was fun. The most fun I ever had -- even if the work was hard. There's the vampire, Angel -- he was cursed with a soul. He helped me some, but the best thing about him is fighting with him. As much as I hate to admit it, he taught me a few things here and there. And I remember the first time I met Xander... I saved him from becoming a vampire at the hand of his former best friend -- gotta love vampires with ties to the past. And after that, I couldn't shake him. Which turned out to be lucky for me when I met my match, this vampire they called The Master. I killed him, but his underground lair caved in and snapped my spine... But Xander saved my life. He pulled me out of there, and Giles promised they'd find a way to heal me. He was afraid the Council would have me killed so the next Slayer could be called -- that's why he's in trouble now, because he lied to them, and instead of curing me, he found a way to move the powers to Buffy..."
It was like once the words started, Sonya couldn't make them stop. She talked about Buffy and Xander, and her old feelings for Xander. She told Doyle about being in a wheelchair, and the horrible, trapped feeling it gave her just to remember it. There was the story about the Order of Taraka, and Willow's vampire civil war against Spike. And then there was the story of Nathan, and how he made her secret desires come true in the worst possible ways. The only positive outcome of that had been her renewed ability to walk, for however long it lasted. And then there was Oz. She didn't know what to say about Oz. She liked him... a lot. And she thought he liked her, but somehow they never really managed to get it all straight. Maybe they had journeyed too far into the Friend Zone to ever get into a less platonic relationship...
"Nah, that's just a bunch o' baloney!"
Sonya's monologue trailed to a halt, and she looked up to see Doyle's brown eyes on her with a knowing gaze. It was the first time he'd spoken since she'd started her story... Sonya glanced at her wrist and sighed. They'd taken her watch, as well as her stake. Apparently they didn't want her to know how long she'd been here. But it had been a very long time. Her throat was scratchy, she'd been talking so much. But Doyle was a really good listener.
"What?" she asked.
"That you an' Oz will never have somethin'," Doyle answered firmly. "I may have been preoccupied, but even then I saw how he looks at ye. That one may not be a lad for many words, but ye can see it all in his eyes."
"I know..." Sonya sighed.
Doyle slapped his knee. "Ye see! That was a lover's sigh."
"Well, what about you?" Sonya tried to get the spotlight off of her for a minute. It had been on her too long. "I've seen the sparks between you and Miss Cordelia Chase. Don't you think she's a little bit young for you?"
"Hey, who cares 'bout age when yer talkin' romance?" Doyle replied.
"Statutory rape laws," Sonya retorted. Then she added, "But if memory serves me right, she turned seventeen a month or so ago... I guess you're safe."
Doyle's mouth fell open. "Yer tellin' me she's only seventeen?"
"Yup!" Sonya borrowed one of Oz's favorite comebacks -- sometimes one word was really all you needed.
"But she's so... so..."
Whatever he'd been about to say was cut off by the scraping sound of the key in the lock. Doyle and Sonya both got to their feet and moved next to each other.
"If it's something bad, we fight it together," Sonya said.
Doyle nodded. "Agreed." Then he winked at her. "But if it's got a gun, I'm lettin' you take all the bullets!"
Sonya barely had time for a surprised laugh when the metal door slid back...
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- The Waterfront
A chilly wind rose from the water, blowing a light fog into Sunnydale Harbor. Angel didn't really like the fog -- it made his hair flat, from what he could tell -- but he could survive in it. It wasn't bad enough that they couldn't see, and even if it got worse, he could still hear and smell enough to find what they were looking for... if it was there.
He glanced over at Faith. The brunette was trading flirtatious glances with a large guy dressed in black leather standing in the door of one of the run-down bars on the waterfront. Angel frowned.
"Could we keep our mind on business, please?" he said sarcastically.
Faith turned her head and eyeballed Angel with a pout. "You're ruining my fun. Bubba over there would have bought me all the drinks I wanted. It could have been a fun evening."
"He would have been expecting a... payment," Angel felt obligated to mention.
"Of course!" Faith replied in a well-duh tone. "And if I like him, I'd give it to him, and if I didn't, I'd crush his balls if he tried to force it. I'm very well equipped to take care of myself." Her crimson lips curled up in a sneer, and she spoke in an overdone Southern accent while fluttering her eyelashes at him. "But ah'm oh-so glad my manly man escort dah-cided to tell me befoah ah ran amuck..."
Angel turned away from her and began scanning the harbor again. He was glad they'd finally walked far enough that Bubba was out of eyesight. "You can do whatever you want in your own time, Faith, but right now we're supposed to be hunting feral vampires."
All the playfulness dropped out of her face and she glared at him. "Of course, I wouldn't do that right now! I might set something up for later, but right now we're working! And, just for your information, I've been scanning this whole time, and I haven't seen anything out of place. Besides we haven't reached the place where they found the victims of the 'wild dog attack' yet. That was Slip 19." She gestured to the dock they were passing at that moment. "This is Slip 15."
He looked at her in surprise. "You had time to read the article?" He'd read it, of course, but he hadn't thought Faith had.
"Of course!" Faith snapped. "You might want to keep all the information for yourself, but I do not go into battles blind!"
Angel thought about a comeback, but they were getting close to Slip 19. He motioned her to be quiet, and they walked carefully up to the place. The victims had been found on the dock, as if they'd been waylaid on their way to board the pleasure boat docked in the slip. Angle had wondered what the couple was doing going out for a sail at night, but he knew there was no way to tell with some people. He glanced at Faith out of the corner of his eye. She seemed like the type to go on a pleasure cruise at night -- probably with a guy like Bubba! He scowled.
Then suddenly, his enhanced hearing picked up something. A scream, coming from the other direction, the direction away from the harbor.
"Come on!" he said to Faith. "Something's happening that way."
Angel took off at a run, trusting that Faith would follow. He followed the sound through the first line of waterfront businesses. He threaded his way through an alley, and came out on another street. He stopped, straining his ears for another sound. "One more time," he urged silently, "just one more time. I've almost got it." Then he realized Faith wasn't behind him, but before Angel could do anything about it, he heard the scream again, and he was off. He'd have to handle this by himself.
When he entered a darkened alley a few yards away, he saw a young girl crouching in a corner. Her escape route was blocked by a slender young man with slicked back red hair.
"Excuse me," Angel said, laying a hand on the guy's shoulder. "I think the lady would like to leave."
The guy turned around to reveal the fangs and ridged forehead of a vampire. In a deep voice he replied, "I don't think so, now get outta here buddy, or you're next."
Angel grinned, and slowly his face morphed into that of a vampire. His fangs glinted in the moonlight as his smile widened. "You should be more careful who you're talking to... 'buddy!' Now let the lady alone!"
The vamp looked stunned, but he wasn't willing to be scared off. "No, way, man. This is my meal. Find your own!" He threw at punch toward Angel, testing the waters.
Angel returned the punch easily, and then he grabbed the guy's other fist and pushed it backwards until his arm broke. The cracking noise echoed around the alley. The red headed vamp howled in agony and rage. Angel was unmoved. The screams from the girl in the corner had dwindled down to tiny whimpers of pain.
The red head lunged at Angel with his good arm outstretched. That was a mistake. Angel gripped the arm and broke it over his knee. The vampire looked up at Angel in complete surprise, his broken limbs hanging lifeless at his sides. Of course, Angel knew that the dude's preternatural healing abilities would kick in momentarily, so he had to make his move before that. Angel pulled a stake out of the pocket of his trench coat and slammed it into the vampire's chest. The vampire stared down at the intrusive bit of wood in surprise before bursting into a cloud of dust.
Angel returned his stake to his pocket, and then took several calming, cleansing breaths. After a second, his game face vanished, and he turned back to the girl. "You're all right now. You can go."
The girl was young, barely thirteen. Her pale skin was dirty and streaked with tears. A bruise marred one cheek, and her blue-black hair was matted and covered with vampire dust. She stared at his hand doubtfully, obviously remembering that he had the same visage as her attacker. "You're not going to..."
"No," Angel answered, shaking his head. "You're free to go. Go home."
The girl's chin trembled. Angel wondered if she'd be safe walking to wherever her home might be. She was definitely too young to drive. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a wad of bills. Selecting two, he put them into her hand. "This is for a cab. That way no one else can jump you."
"Th... thank you," the girl stammered, but she still didn't seem inclined to move.
Angel decided that she might feel better if he left. He walked out of the alley and across the street. From the shadows, he watched the girl walk hesitantly out of the alley and hail a cab.
"Forces of good, one; minions of darkness, zero!"
Angel turned to see Faith standing behind him, a pleased grin on her face. "Where were you?" he demanded angrily. "I thought we were in this together."
Faith shrugged. "You ran off so fast, I didn't see which way you went. When I finally caught up to you, it seemed you had the situation well in hand." She paused, and when she spoke again, her voice was free for once of any sarcasm or hostility. "And I wanted to know if you'd really dust him, one of your own kind. But you did. I guess you're on the level after all."
Angel rolled his eyes. "I've been saying so all along..."
"Well, I didn't really believe it before." Her tone went back to its normal edgy sound when she added, "And you missed something when you went running off like that."
"What? The girl was in danger. That's my job."
"I saw one, but it's long gone by now."
"A feral vampire?"
"Yep. And we missed tracking it to its lair because some teenaged bimbette decided to take a stroll on the water front looking for some excitement!" Faith shook her head, making her hair sway back and forth. "The girls in this town really need to take a self defense class or something if they're gonna walk the streets at night."
"I'm sure you could teach them everything they need to know," Angel replied in a snide tone. "Especially on how to pick up guys in bars." Frustration at missing what could have been their only lead made him tense. He knew he was taking it out on Faith, but he didn't really care. She'd been taking things out on him since the first moment he met her.
The sneer came back to her lips. "If I'd known it would make you so jealous, I would have done it a long time ago," she replied in a falsely sweet tone of voice. Then she turned and began walking back toward Slip 19. "Now, c'mon, hero-boy. Let's give the place a once over. Maybe we can find a clue."
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Compound
"Sir, it's your contact in Sunnydale."
The man nodded, effectively dismissing the messenger, and then he picked up the phone, pressing the button that activated his secure line.
"You have information?"
"Things are progressing on this end. Apparently there's been an outbreak of feral vampires."
"How does that effect your mission?"
"It's the perfect cover."
"What about the vampire?"
"Intrusive, but under control. He has the witches wrapped around his little finger, the dumb sluts."
"Good. Anything else?"
"Giles called them today."
"What about?"
"He wants them to prepare some kind of spell for him. I'm not sure what it does or why he wants it, but I'll have that information soon."
"Call me as soon as you know more details. Day or night."
"Yes, sir. I will."
"I'll be waiting." Then the man hung up the phone and sat back in his chair. Swivelling around so he faced the window, he looked out into the golden afternoon to see the Slayer and her tour group headed back toward the main part of the Compound. He smiled.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
England -- The Compound
When she, Xander, her mother, Marcus and Gwendolyn got back to the mansion, Buffy felt like more information had been stuffed into her head in the last hour than in a whole week's worth of algebra classes. The Compound had every amenity, and they'd toured them all -- everything from twenty-four hour computer/internet access in what had to be the biggest private library ever built (with the largest collection of occult books) to a stable full of horses, to indoor and outdoor exercise courts with any fitness tool you could ask for.
"And, of course, you're welcome to use the courts at any time while you're here," Marcus was saying to Buffy. "They were first built for Slayer training, back in the days when most Slayers were brought here for training before we sent them off into battle."
Buffy wondered what that would have been like -- to have weeks, or months or more to train before coming face-to-face with one's first vampire. Then she realized Marcus was still talking.
"...but things are different now. The evil more pervasive. The time away from the battle just can't be spared." He seemed to catch himself babbling, and suddenly stopped.
They walked up the front steps, and Gwendolyn gave the younger man a stern look, and then asked, "Is there anywhere else you'd like to go, Buffy?"
"Actually," Buffy said, "I'd really like to go to the ladies' room, if you don't mind."
"Of course," Gwendolyn agreed. "There's one right down this hall. If you like, we'll take your mother and your friend back to the lounge, and you can meet us there, Buffy."
Buffy glanced at the others, and they seemed amenable. Marcus was smiling at her. She felt odd being deferred to so much, especially by someone like Gwendolyn, a woman so much older than herself. But it was kind of nice, in a way. She remembered what Xander had said about her being like a celebrity to the Watchers, and a small smile crossed her lips.
Aloud, she said, "That's fine. I remember where the lounge is." Then she went into the ladies' room, glad for the chance to be alone for a minute. After taking care of business, Buffy washed her hands in the marble sink and dried them on a fluffy, maroon towel. Then she opened her oversized purse, and dug around for her lipstick. Her hand brushed something unfamiliar. Something thin with a hard edge. Frowning, she pulled out a thick, cream-colored envelope. Her name was written in script across the front.
After glancing around to make sure she was alone, Buffy tore open the envelope. The odd feeling in her stomach solidified into several five-tone butterflies when she recognized the letter head as the same from the letter Giles had gotten so many months before. The letter was dated with today's date. The handwriting was exceptionally neat and perfect. If it hadn't obviously been written in ink, she would have suspected someone of using a script-like computer font to print this letter. There were no names other than hers on the letter. She began to read, the feeling in her stomach getting worse with each word.
Buffy -- The Council is not always what it seems. There are some who would rather that Giles, Sonya and Doyle did not return to America again. Everyone here with you is in danger, even you, if they do not find you amenable to their plans. Be careful whom you trust. Sincerely, a friend.
Her heart was beating fast, and little beads of sweat decorated her forehead. Buffy wet the corner of the towel and used it to cool of her hot face. Now what was she supposed to do? From this note, someone here at the Compound knew where Doyle and Sonya were. But they didn't give her enough information to mount a rescue. And it sounded like whoever wrote this note thought Giles was about to be railroaded during the tribunal.
She wondered if there was any way it was some kind of trick -- a test of her loyalty to the Council or something. But that seemed ridiculous. When she got herself back under control, Buffy put the letter back in the envelope and slid it into the lining of her purse so no casual glance could reveal it. She had a feeling that if someone found it on her person, it could be bad. Then she left the bathroom, and headed for the lounge, hoping that she would soon have a chance to speak with Giles. He was the only one who might know what this meant -- he was the only one of them with any knowledge about the inner workings of the Council.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Sunnydale -- Slip 19
"There's nothing here!" Angel exclaimed in frustration, throwing down the board he'd been examining for clues. It had blood on it, he could smell it, but it was the blood of the victims, not a new clue. The board clattered to the ground, coming to a stop beside the chalk outlines on the ground. Someone -- probably a denizen of the waterfront who disliked the police -- had removed the yellow police tape long before Angel and Faith got there, but the chalk outlines of the dead man and woman remained, and probably would remain until the next rainfall.
Faith looked up from her position on the deck of the boat. "There's nothing here either."
Angel aimed a kick at the side of the boat, hoping to vent a little of the anger and the sense of helplessness that were overwhelming him. There was a dull thud as the side of the boat dented in. Angel lowered his foot, a little embarrassed.
Faith was grinning at him. "That's it, it's time for us to pack it in." She glanced at her watch. "It's past one, and our areas have all been patrolled. You even dusted a vamp. I'd say we call this a night well spent and find something more fun to do."
"We have to go back to the condo," Angel said. "They'll be waiting for us with reports." The idea of quitting for the night was appealing, however, and he decided that he might actually do that for once. They weren't getting anything accomplished here, so what was the point of hanging around.
"How boring is that?" Faith quirked an eyebrow at him. "You'd think that in all the decades you've been alive, you'd have learned something a little more fun than that."
"In all my decades, what I've learned is to take responsibility," Angel replied. "That's what having a soul means. When the demon was in control of my body, I wreaked havoc, killing without mercy, taking whatever I wanted, and now there are consequences to pay."
"Play now, pay later?" she asked.
"Something like that," Angel replied. He knew there was no way to make her understand. She was, and always had been, a human. She'd never done anything to atone for. "So, are you coming back with me?"
Faith hopped out of the boat, landing on the dock with a feline grace. She seemed to be pondering the notion. "You know, I don't think so. You want to be the big leader, Angel, you go back. I'm taking the rest of the night off." Reaching for one of the holsters on her belt (most of the things on her belt were covered by leather, so her arsenal wasn't obvious when they walked down the street), she unclipped it and pulled out her radio.
"Terrance," she called, holding down the talk button. "Do you read me?"
"Yes, I'm here," came the Brit's recognizable accent.
"Find anything?" Faith asked, taking care of business first, Angel noted.
"No," Terrance answered. "No sign of the ferals anywhere. We were going to do one more sweep and then rendezvous with you back at the condo."
"Check that," Faith replied. "I think we've all had a pretty rough time getting adjusted here, and I don't know about you, but I'm still adjusting to the jet lag factor. Save your reports for tomorrow, and take the rest of the night off for some sleep or whatever. If you need me, use the radio. I'll have it on. Otherwise, I'll see you back at the motel later."
"Sounds good," Terrance said, and the other two commandos could be heard making happy noises in the background. "Thank you, Faith. Some time will be good."
"Don't forget," Faith cautioned. "If you see any trouble, you still have to deal with it, no matter what you're doing."
"Of course!" Terrance sounded affronted, like he couldn't believe she would think such a thing of him.
Faith apparently heard the same thing in his voice, and added, "I know you will, but I just have to make the order. Over and out."
"Over and out," Terrance said in a clipped tone. Then Faith turned off and holstered her radio.
She looked at Angel with her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess I'll see you tomorrow night. Have fun back at the condo." The she turned and began strolling slowly back down the waterfront in the direction of Bubba and his bar.
Angel watched her hips sway back and forth until her and her black suit disappeared into the shadows. Then he reluctantly turned to head back to the condo. Suddenly a thought occurred to him. What kind of trouble would Faith get into on her own?
"I'd better go keep an eye on her," Angel decided. "Yeah, that would be the best thing for everybody." He pulled his brand new cellular phone out of his pocket and punched in the number of the condo, now glad that he'd finally made the investment. When Jenny answered, Angel quickly told her about the sighting and how they'd lost it with no trace because of the girl in the alley. Then he said they were giving up for the night, and would start again fresh the next evening. Jenny didn't seem extremely pleased, but she didn't contradict him. She said she and Amy had a little more work to do on the spell for Giles, and then they would go home as well. A minute later, Angel ended the call, and began to walk in the direction Faith had disappeared.