CHAPTER 16:
SEEKERS
You look into the bedrock and listen to the bells
calling liquid lust,
call for solid white
I see the stalker in your face
the secrets in your skin
I keep the wisdom that you need
the password that you want
I feel the stalker in your mind
the fire in your veins
no hope to be released
I'm a multitude of travels to the other side
~Stalker, Covenant
______________________________________________
For a moment, Spike was confused.
"Well, this is impressive. Weren't we just standing in front of the Times
building?" He looked at the building with angry impudence, pissed off that it continued
to stand there. "What the bloody hell? I thought the portal was supposed to—"
"Wait," Buffy said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "Look."
The building looked almost identical to the Los Angeles Times building they'd
just gone under, but studying it for a second, Spike saw that it was slightly
different after all. The same two portals were carved in the stone above the
entryway, but the giant eagles that had been there moments ago had now grown
the hindquarters of lions. Griffons they were called, if he remembered right.
The stone was also slightly darker and the edges of the building were trimmed
with gold—that was something you'd sure as hell never see in LA. On either side
he could still see the city, all tall dark buildings and glimmering lights, but
it seemed blurry, indistinct, as if viewed through a cloudy lens. Neat trick,
that.
And then… the stones themselves seemed to melt, to shift and move, bleeding
together into one malignant mass—he blinked. The stones shifted back, if indeed
they had ever moved, and it was just a building again, brick and mortar and
glass. He shook his head to clear it, wondering what the hell that was all
about, and took another look. Dark stone seemed to swell and breathe with a
life all its own, its body crouched low against the horizon. The twin portals
above the entryway blazed violently red for an instant, a pair of predatory
eyes that dared—no, begged for them
to enter. He blinked and the lines of the building straightened again, forming
a solid, unassuming stone structure.
"Did anyone slip mushrooms into that last bit of Taco Bell we ordered?"
Several lackeys frowned and blinked in incomprehension, protruding brow ridges
rendering their faces infinitely dull and stupid. They wouldn't have had the
savvy to feed him drugs if someone had paid them and given them written
instructions with diagrams. And Buffy… well, Buffy didn't need to feed him drugs, now did she?
"Right then. Well, this must be the place," he said with a nod.
Drawing himself up, he took a step forward and mounted the wide stone stairs.
That was when everything went straight to hell.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The sun had barely broken the horizon in Sunnydale when Giles hung up the phone
and returned to where everyone was just waking.
"Yeah, so what'd they say?" Faith asked.
"They won't listen to reason, of course," Giles said with a tired sigh. "Not
that I expected them to after sending in the assassins," he added with
distaste.
Faith shrugged and gathered up the rest of her gear, shoving it casually into
her backpack. "Whatever. It's not like I expected much from the 700 Club
anyway."
Giles smiled slightly, despite himself. "They said a great deal more than that,
though, Faith," he went on, smile fading from his face. "They've specifically
ordered that you not interfere with the Black Ops team."
Faith froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him, her eyes so furiously cold he
nearly shivered beneath their gaze. "Good for them."
"Yes, quite," he agreed with thick sarcasm. "However, the fact remains that
they are the ones who negotiated your release from prison. If you don't
cooperate with them, there's no telling what they may do."
Her eyes grew even colder, if that were possible, but there was a look of
mistrust in them now. Giles was surprised to find how much that troubled him.
"Are you gonna tell me not do this?"
"Me?" He was astonished. "Good Lord, no."
"Good." She shrugged as if the matter were finished and turned to finish
packing her things.
"But Faith…" His voice caught her in mid-turn and she glanced at him again with
those dark, resolute eyes. "The fact remains that they do have a claim to you
of sorts that they never had with Buffy. They got you out of prison, and they
could likely put you back there if they decided you were too troublesome. Or
worse," he added, suddenly reminded of their recent visitors.
"Gosh, you don't really think they'd do that, do you?" Xander asked with
sarcasm so heavy it almost sounded sincerely pleasant.
"Considering the number of times Quentin Travers repeated those very words to
me, I'd say it's a sure thing."
"I'd like to see them try," Angel said.
Faith, however, said nothing for a moment. There'd been a time, not long ago,
when those kinds of threats from the Council would have worried her. Now, they
left her cold, unmoved, and she only had to look around her to see why she was
no longer frightened. She wasn't alone anymore.
Damn. I have friends. Okay, not
really. But sort of. When did that happen?
"I don't give a damn about the Council or the Sean Connery wannabe," she spoke
up, brisk and impatient. "If the Master had his finger on the button they'd
have to huff and puff and take a meeting."
"Faith…" Giles' eyes searched hers. "Are you certain? You don't have to do
this. We could—"
"Are you scared of them?" she asked suddenly, almost accusing.
Giles looked mildly offended. "Of course not. I merely—I, I just… I don't want
to put you in any unnecessary danger."
Her expression softened slightly, and she smiled a crooked, half-cynical smile.
"Being Danger Girl? Kinda my job."
"Yes, but—"
"Shut up, Giles," she said almost kindly. "Thanks for being a gentleman and
all, but I'm doing this, and I'm doing it all the way."
Words hung poised on the tip of Giles' tongue for an instant, then slowly, he
gathered himself, nodded slightly and drew back.
"I know," he said with a small smile that creased his face like well-worn
leather.
"Besides," she went on, zipping up the backpack and slinging it onto her
shoulders. "It's not like I'm breaking any rules yet. Donner gave us twenty
four hours."
A rustle of uneasiness passed through the Scoobies. The charge of emotions in
the room was very palpable, like electricity, black and yellow and buzzing all
around them like an angry swarm of bees.
"Now if we only knew where to look," Willow said ruefully.
Faith glanced at her, hesitated a moment as she gauged the emotional storm
cloud. "I do."
The swarm erupted in a squeal of static electricity.
"What?"
"Where?"
"How?"
Faith looked down at the toes of her boots, words leaving her mouth
reluctantly. "She's down in the tunnels. She has to be."
"No." Willow shook her head vehemently. "No way."
She tossed her hair back and switched her shoulders, uncomfortable and
impatient. "Come on Red. Think about it. I'm Buffy. I'm pissed off at my
friends for bringing me back and I can't die until they're all dead. I wanna
kill them, and I'm crazy to boot. Where do I go?"
"She could be anywhere," Willow argued heatedly. "You don't know
that!"
And she sympathized with Willow, she really did. But that didn't
change what she knew. "Spike didn't come back, either. He went down to check on
the bad guys, and I can only think of two reasons he wouldn't come back. A,
he's dead, which I don't believe for a second, or B, he found Buffy. You all
know how he felt—feels about her."
"What?" Angel asked, blinking.
Faith shook her head and didn't answer, still focused on her thought. "I should
have thought of that before we sent him down there."
"Or C, he got a better offer than we were giving him," Xander spoke up. "It's
not like Spike's the most loyal guy around."
"You really think he'd just join up with the Big Bad and leave Buffy out there
to fend for herself?"
"If the price was right," Xander agreed.
"No." Dawn shook her head slowly and looked up at Xander. "No way. He'd never
do that. He loves her."
"Dawn—" Xander began.
"He wouldn't. You know he wouldn't."
Xander sighed and looked away, defeated.
"Loves?" Angel asked.
"Much as we would like to believe that Buffy would never ally herself with the,
ah, forces of evil, we can't ignore the facts. It bears checking out, at the
very least," Giles said, sounding much more reasonable than he felt.
"Loves?" Angel asked again.
"Right," Faith agreed with Giles. "And that's why I need you all to stay here."
The room exploded in a chorus of voices, and she let them run their course
before she spoke again.
"I need to know what's going on down there before we all go in. That's why we
sent Spike, remember? And I need all of you on research, anyway."
"But Buffy—" Xander began to argue.
"Wow, they couldn't have come up with a better way to distract us from the
apocalypse if they'd tried." She rolled her eyes. "Look. I know we need to find
Buffy, and we will, but we also need
to know what we're up against. We still don't even know what kind of vampire Daeonira
is, or how she keeps such a grip on her followers. How am I supposed to fight
her and stop the apocalypse if I don't know anything about her?" She stopped,
blinked. "And when did I become the voice of reason around here?"
"She's right," Giles said after a heavy pause.
"I'm not staying here." Dawn's voice
quavered with emotion.
Faith sighed, her expression of impatience fading slightly. "Dawn. I know you
want to find Buffy. I'll find her, or we all
will, one way or another. If I don't find her when I go down, then we'll all go
look when I come back. Besides," she said with a grim smile. "Your sister would
kill me if she knew I was taking you down into the enemy's lair. I'm so not gonna deal with that when we get
her back."
Dawn stared at her, green eyes wavering and mistrustful. "And if you don't find
her we all go together?"
"Swear," Faith said, holding up one hand.
Dawn folded her arms over her chest and flopped down into a chair, staring up
at Faith moodily. "If you screw this up, I'll kick your ass myself."
Faith raised her brows at the girl and gave her a half-smirk. Girl had balls;
you had to give her that. She might have been created by monks—at least,
according to what Giles had told her—but she was Buffy's sister through and
through. It was there in the stubborn set of her jaw, the obstinate glare in
her eyes.
Fair enough. Faith straightened the backpack on her shoulders, then turned.
"You ready, Angel?"
"Wait a minute," Xander said, holding up a hand. "How come Angel gets to go?"
Angel favored him with a condescending smile. "Because I'm special."
Faith shot him a look that said she could handle this herself, then looked back
to Xander. "Because Angel can take care of himself, and I need some kind of back-up."
"Oh really?" Xander asked, oozing sarcasm. "And it wouldn't have anything to do
with the fact that you're mooning over him?" Faith's lips thinned and her eyes
went hard as stone. Xander smiled unplesantly. "I'm sure Buffy will be touched by your loyalty when you find
her."
Faith's jaw tightened and a muscle twitched beneath her left eye. Okay, maybe
she could handle this with a hard right to Xander's smirking mouth. That would
work, right?
Angel shifted inside his coat and shot Xander an annoyed glance. "Maybe you
missed the memo, but Buffy and I haven't been together for a long time now."
"And I'm so sure she'd be okay with you and Faith getting together."
"I don't think that's any of your business," Angel contradicted darkly.
"Xander, we're all worried about Buffy." Giles cleared his throat and gave
Xander a look of mild reproach. "Don't be an ass."
"What?" Xander turned on Giles, eyes uncomprehending. "Giles don't tell me you
think—"
"What I think doesn't matter. Angel's right; it's none of our business," he
said quite seriously. "Getting Buffy back and stopping the apocalypse are the
only things that are important now." He slid his hands into the pockets of his
pants and turned his attention to Faith, nodding briefly to her. "You'd better
get going. Time is wasting."
She stared at him for a second, then the corner of her mouth quirked up in the
tiniest hint of a smile. For a second, he swore he saw a flash of something
grateful in her eyes, and then she turned, vanishing through the door to the
basement. Angel followed behind her without a second glance.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The sound of wrenching stone was deafening. For a moment it seemed to come from
everywhere, crashing and whirling all around them like the gale winds of a
tornado—and then Spike saw something move.
One of the stone griffons gripped the edge of its portal with sharp, gray
talons. Tiny cracks spread out from the holes each talon pierced in the stone,
and the brick seemed to bubble and bulge beneath the strength of its grip.
"That—that wasn't like that before," stuttered out some nameless lackey from
behind him.
"No," Spike said, voice soft and musing. "It wasn't."
The other griffon's head turned slowly in their direction with the same deafening
sound of thunder, vicious beak parting to reveal a pointed, alien tongue. It
hissed at them, stone feathers rising on the back of its neck.
"I think we'd better hurry," Spike said, grabbing Buffy's hand and pulling her
up the stairs two at a time.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faith and Angel moved through the sewers in uncomfortable silence. The sounds
of dripping water echoed and resounded all around them, evoking a distant sense
of nostalgia in Faith, which was followed instantly by cynical distaste. It was
sad, really, when you thought about how many of her recent emotional memories
were tied up in this place—or underground in general. Not exactly the most
romantic setting she could imagine. But then, she wasn't much on romance.
She slid a surreptitious sideways glance at Angel and wondered how true that
still was. She'd always been about fire, about want and need. Sex was like a
force of nature housed in the small frame of her body, one that moved her like
a tempest, caught others in the storm and left them gasping in wonder as she
discarded them and left them behind. But that had been a different girl… hadn't
it? She didn't have any idea who she
was anymore, and this, whatever it was between them, was playing for far higher
stakes than she'd ever imagined. She felt as if she'd been swept up in the
tempest instead of being the one who drove it. And she wasn't sure if she loved
it, or hated it.
And either way… did it really matter? She'd played the odds and lost often
enough to know what they were.
As if he could read her thoughts—and sometimes she wondered if he really
could—Angel spoke. "Don't let him get to you. I can't remember the last time
Xander had anything good to say where I was concerned."
A short breath of laughter escaped her. "Yeah. Me neither." She shook her head,
hesitated over the next words. "But he's right."
Angel hesitated in mid-step, and she cut him another look out of the corner of
her eye. In the dim blue light of her glow stick, his face was troubled. "Do
you feel guilty?"
She thought about it, shrugged. "A little." She cleared her throat, feeling
uncomfortable, and followed the admission with a casual, "I know, imagine that,
huh? How about you?"
"A little," he agreed quietly, and nodded.
She said nothing after that, and he let her lapse into silence, perhaps caught
up in his own thoughts. It wasn't like there hadn't been doubt before this.
There was the whole soul deal to think about, and the thin line they were
dancing along was sure to fall out from under them sooner or later. If… when they found Buffy, and they made her
right again, that line was bound to snap and leave them both twisting in the
wind. She'd known that from the beginning.
So why'd you let it get this far?
asked her ever-cynical conscience.
Even her smart-assed argumentative side didn't seem to have an answer for that.
She paused as the tunnel dropped off and waited as Angel swung down onto the
rungs of the ladder below. She waited another moment, then grabbed the glow
stick between her teeth and swung down after him. Damned chemistry. She was so
aware of his every move, the comforting bulk of his presence, the tingle of
electricity that his nearness sent through her body. And what the hell? It
wasn't like she was a school girl, was it? There'd been plenty of guys and this
was just—
Her hand slipped on a slimy rung, and still caught up in her thoughts, she
didn't move quick enough to catch herself.
She fell backward, instinctively spitting out the glow stick as she lost her
balance, and for a moment there was a feeling of vertigo as she twisted,
readying herself to roll when she hit the ground—then strong arms caught her
around the waist and spun her around.
Her feet dangled several inches from the floor, and the glow stick hit the
ground just below the soles of her boots. In its feeble light, she found
herself almost eye to eye with Angel, her lips within centimeters of his, bodies
pressed tightly together. He held her just high enough that he had to tilt his
head back slightly and look up at her. She felt her heart speed up as she
looked into his eyes, a bright spark of heat igniting in her belly and
streaking off through every nerve. For an instant, the veil that always fell
across his emotion was torn away and she could see his desire for her burn in
the depths of his dark eyes.
His lips parted slightly and he took a quick, unnecessary breath.
And despite the moment—despite how much she wanted to give in to her instincts
and kiss him until they were both writhing on the floor—she only smirked and
shook her head once.
"We are so doomed."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Anya wiped down the shelf filled with exotic spices, wrinkling her nose at the
cloying cacophony of scents they exuded. She was bored; utterly bored, nervous
and slightly afraid. It was a combination of emotion that filled her tummy with
a queasy sensation she didn't enjoy very much, and the overwhelming smell of
spice wasn't helping. She'd hoped that cleaning the shop, which always made her
feel happy, peaceful and productive, would still her whispering doubts. But so
far it had only seemed to intensify them.
She sighed, threw the rag down impatiently and folded her arms over her chest.
Stupid human emotions. She didn't think she'd ever get used to them. Like the
feeling that she got whenever she glanced down at her blank ring finger, for
instance. It looked so empty, so bereft without the beautiful diamond Xander
had bought for her. Just looking at
that smooth, unadorned skin filled her with an unhappiness she couldn't begin
to untangle or overcome.
Her mind picked up speed as it seized on this familiar train of thought. Oh, she'd
tried to get Xander to let her tell
the others, but he'd insisted that everything was too sad with Buffy gone, and then
it was because everything was too uncertain with Faith there, and now there was
the apocalypse. Just thinking about the unfairness of it all set her skin on
fire with anger.
Why couldn't he tell them? Was afraid of her? Ashamed? She knew what he had
told her, but her stupid, wondering human heart hadn't been able to accept it
at face value, tormenting her with the idea that she wasn't good enough,
wasn't… human enough.
How the hell did people live with these kinds of thoughts all the time? No
wonder humans were so neurotic.
She cast a pinched, backward glance over her shoulder to where Xander sat with
the others, all of them pouring over books that had so far told them nothing.
As if the way she felt weren't bad enough, there were all these… circumstances
going on that made Xander act as if her feelings were unimportant. Yes, they
were having another apocalypse, but so what? There would always be another
impending apocalypse. This was the only time they would be engaged and get
married.
Why couldn't he understand that?
She sighed, picked up the dust rag again, and moved on to the spell components
shelf, where the smell was less cloying and muskier. She supposed, in a little
while, she would go over and help them research some more. Brave little
toaster, doing her part. She rolled her eyes and smirked at her own sarcasm. She
did care about the apocalypse; just not as much as she cared about Xander and
their future together.
Of course, stopping the apocalypse would ensure they had time to have a future
together…
She paused in her dusting as this strange new thought occurred to her.
Perhaps she'd go over and help them right now.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Willow sighed as she typed, pulling up all
the files related to Daeonira and the Master that they'd found so far. She
doubted going over them again would offer them anything new, but Giles had
asked her to try, and try she would. Besides, it kept her mind off of other,
more ominous things.
She wiped her hands on her jeans as she waited for the last file to finish
opening, and wrinkled her nose in disgust as it popped up. Ugh. She'd almost
managed to forget about this in the midst of everything else.
The face of Jane Doe in all her grisly glory stared back at Willow, making her squirm in her seat.
Normally they would have investigated such an unusual death, but things had
been too crazy lately to focus on the small stuff.
Her fingers hovered over the keys, about to move on.
Except…
What if it wasn't small stuff?
The beginning of a thought that was more like intuition took hold, gossamer
pattern forming in her mind.
Her fingers fell on the keyboard again, and an instant later she sat back,
somehow unsurprised at what she'd found.
"Giles… I think you'd better take a look at this."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The screeching sound of stone on stone faded behind them as they leaped into
the entry way of the building and the doors slammed shut behind them. Buffy was
on her feet almost immediately, eyes and cheeks bright with excitement,
spinning and looking back toward the closed glass doors.
"They can get through that," she said, sounding as if she actually relished the
thought.
Spike rose and dusted himself off, arching a brow at her. He opened his mouth
to speak—and whatever he'd been about to say was lost forever as he watched the
glass doors waver like they were caught in a heat wave, surface running like
melted plastic and hardening.
A moment later, they were staring at a solid wall of stone.
"Or… not." Buffy glanced around, looking uncertain for the first time.
"We—we're safe," stuttered out the lackey, sounding like he'd probably just wet
himself with relief.
Spike stared at the smooth, seamless stone and didn't speak, suddenly
overwhelmed by the feeling that they'd been safer outside.
Whatever it was that awaited them inside… it wanted them all to itself.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"This is the place?" Angel asked, voice so low it was almost a whisper, but not
quite.
Faith glanced at the twin metal boxes and almost shuddered at the darkness
within. "Yeah."
Angel paused, contemplating the depth of the prisons with a dark look. "They
kept them in there."
Faith nodded, knowing he didn't really require an answer. After a moment, he
looked away and moved on, but she could tell that the instant of looking and
knowing where Buffy had been had affected him. It was clear in the set of his
face, and she marveled that she could tell.
She thought she could feel the thin wire beneath them sway.
They slunk nearer to the outer ledge, concealing themselves against the sides
of the opening, and peered around.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"Do you feel that?" Buffy asked, her tone hushed but still carrying the flush
of excitement that lit up her face. She took several steps inside the entryway,
gaze transfixed and far away.
Spike turned slowly, trying to focus on everything around him. And suddenly he
was back in the sixties, blood of the flower people running through his veins.
The chamber wasn't just lit; it was alive,
and it pulsed, it thrummed in his head like the beat of a heart, pounding
through his undead veins with the memory of living blood. This wasn't just
tripping, this was the good stuff;
the kind you could only get back when Jimi and Janis were still alive and strumming.
His limbs felt weightless, filled with liquid light that moved like mercury. For
the first time in recent memory he felt at peace with himself, filled with
tranquility and a sense of fulfillment, a sense of purpose.
"Yeah luv. I feel that." He moved, each step taken like one through molasses,
traversing a million miles in a single step.
"What is it?" she whispered, sounding reverent.
Light filled his mind, bright white and perfectly pure, exploding like a
supernova. He closed his eyes and let the feeling wash over him, trying to
remember the last time he'd felt anything like it. And nothing compared.
--Come—
"It's what we came for," he said, eyes opening with the knowledge.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
In the chamber within, the globe flared to life, white light filling the room
and obscuring everything on its surface, suffusing everything around it.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faith craned her neck around the edge of the opening—
And a huge fist slammed into her face like a comet, exploding in a shower of
stars.
She hit the ground hard, head slamming against the ground and setting off
another shower of sparks behind her eyes. For a terrible moment, she was
paralyzed, unable to right herself, and she shook her head violently to clear it.
She heard Angel move, felt the whispery breath of his trench coat pass her as
he engaged her assailant. There was the hard sound of flesh against flesh, and
she felt as much as heard the hard thump as Angel hit the ground nearby.
Whoever it was, they weren't fucking around.
She blinked, fireworks clearing from her vision, and forced herself up from the
ground, barely aware of the blood that trickled from her nose. She grimaced at
the hulking vampire that stood before her, thinking that he looked vaguely
familiar, and paused to take in the tall mass of him. He was dressed in black
vinyl and actually rather handsome despite sporting a multitude of piercings no
human would ever subject themselves to. Sneering, she drew back her fist and
readied herself.
"Who the hell are you supposed to be?" she asked, and spit as blood trickled
into her mouth.
"I am Zhaad," the creature said with more than a modicum of pride.
She wiped at her mouth with one fist and grinned with blood-filled teeth. "You
got a 'General' to go with that?"
The creature blinked, genuinely taken aback. "I serve my mistress."
"Right." She drew back and appeared to consider, the corner of her mouth
quirking up. "Hey. You're not expecting me to kneel are you? 'Cause I only do that for guys I like."
The creature's confusion clenched into a frown, then bloomed with hatred. He
came at her with a fist the size of a ham.
"Somebody's been watching too many Superman movies. That's all I'm saying," she
said and ducked.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike thought he was still just tripping when the stone knight detached itself
from the elaborate wall carving. It was a hell of a hallucination, he thought
with distant admiration, watching as the ridiculously sized sword detached with
a thick, sucking sound from the serpent it had impaled.
He enjoyed the realistic quality of it right up until the point where the blade
sliced within centimeters of his face.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
"That all you got?" Faith asked, thrusting up from her ducking position, fist
slamming into the creature's midsection with a satisfying crack. She went with
the momentum, rolling beyond the vampire, coming up and spinning to face its
back. She lashed out again, catching the creature in what would have been its
kidneys, had it been alive. "'Cause I'm thinking General Zod was scarier than
you."
The creature roared and spun on her, face morphing into monstrous ridges.
"Sexier, too," she added and punched him in the nose. She followed the hit with
a rapid spin, foot catching him in the upper ribs and sending him sprawling.
"Oh yeah," she said, grinning down at him. "I'm bad."
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Spike barely dodged back in time, and then Buffy was there, Slayer rhythm
carrying her across his field of vision like a dancer. She knocked the sword
aside by its flat with the edge of her palm, and turned to Spike with a bloody,
hungry look that made him squirm with desire.
"I got this one, honey."
And she did.
She struck with the precision of a cobra, fists like venom as she ducked and
dodged and lunged around the strikes of the knight's sword.
"Snails move faster than you, Galahad," she quipped with a quick breath,
spinning into the stone monstrosity and coming up inside the arc of its sword.
Grabbing the creature's arm, she twisted, pivoted with one foot, and spun,
using the creature's momentum to bring the sword around against itself.
Its stone head hit the floor with a crunch and rolled by Spike, helmet revealing
nothing of its expression.
A second later the stone body fell to the floor with a crash, leaving a smiling
Buffy standing in the dust of its wake.
"That was fun."
When the wounded serpent detached itself from the wall, Spike only shook his
head and smiled.
"My turn," he said, smirk settling into a sneer.
"Uh-huh." Buffy nodded and grinned.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faith ground her teeth and shoved with all her might, trying to push the much
larger vampire off of her.
"I broke your ribs before, Slayer," Zhaad spat with a malefic grin. "This time
I will break more than that."
Memory shifted and slid, the scent of smoke filling her nostrils, flames
flaring all around her, vampire driving its fist into her ribs as she tried
desperately to reach her Watcher.
"You," she hissed, though the word had no sibilants.
"Yes," he agreed, smile broadening as he grabbed her head in his hands and
prepared to twist.
She straightened her fingers and jammed them into his eyes, pushing past the bursting
feel of them, not caring as blood gushed out over her hands.
The vampire screamed and reeled away from her.
She had plenty of time to get to her feet and draw the stake from the small of
her back.
Angel stood there, looking amused. "You need any help?"
"Nah. I got it," she said and slapped the stake into her right hand.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The serpent lay, stone tongue protruding from its reptilian mouth at an even
odder angle than its head hung from its body.
"That was fun," Spike commented,
licking a stray trail of blood from his forearm.
The stone doors before them fell open and pale brilliant light filled the room.
--Come—
They turned from where they stood, and come they did.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Faith turned from the pile of dust and brushed herself off. "Think anybody
heard that?" she asked Angel with a smirk.
"Probably." He nodded, returning the smirk in kind.
"Damn. So much for being sneaky. Guess we're just gonna have to go down there
and kick some ass."
Faith strutted out onto the ledge with a clear sense of purpose. Somehow, she
felt incredibly free, as if the tussle with the Council, the situation with
Buffy and her relationship with Angel had brought everything into clear focus. Or
maybe it was simple battle lust, she didn't know or care. All she knew was that
she'd had enough of taking the shit life was dealing her and she was ready to
share some pain. It was time for payback and a whole lot more.
Everything was quiet, and that disconcerted her. She'd expected everyone to
come running after all the noise General Zod had made. But the ledge was clear,
and below, she saw only a few scattered followers leading up to the candle
ringed circle that contained the Master and Daeonira.
"Looks like the troops have been decimated," Angel said, voice low.
"Yeah," she answered thoughtfully, hand flexing around the stake she held in
her hand. She wanted to go down there more than anything, wanted to stake the
Master and Daeonira both and be done with it.
Daeonira… Beatrice. Faith had mourned her Watcher's death, and the woman had
played Faith for a fool. Vengeance, quiet with all the noise of strategy and
planning, now flared like a red rage around her heart.
"Let's do this." She stepped forward.
Angel reached out and laid a hand on her wrist. "I want to kill them as much as
you do—"
"Oh, I doubt it," she retorted, spinning toward him.
"But," he went on resolutely. "If they don't know we're here, we should use the
opportunity to find out what we can."
"Screw that. I'm dusting some vampire ass. Stay here if you're scared," she
huffed and turned away.
He grabbed her wrist more forcefully this time and spun her back. Despite the
situation, despite her burning need for revenge, she felt the rush of his
nearness, found herself caught in his gaze.
"You said yourself you don't know how to fight Daeonira," he said seriously,
eyes mesmerizing her. "And I don't see Buffy down there. Do you?"
Her eyes flickered to the side and she actually stopped to think about it.
Always a mistake.
"No," she hedged. "But we've got a chance to end this now, Angel."
"Maybe," he agreed with a tight nod. "Or maybe we go down there and get
ourselves killed. How many prophecies have you heard about being preempted?"
"We don't even know if the prophecy will come true now that he's trapped," she
argued heatedly.
"And if there weren't still about fifty or so of them down there, I'd probably
agree with you." He blinked, giving her a resolute look. "We can't do this
alone Faith."
"The hell we can't," she snapped.
He only looked at her, and she gnashed her teeth angrily. "Dammit Angel."
"We can't do it alone, but we can do it. Just not right now."
"Stop making sense!" she spat, tossing her hair back over her shoulder in
annoyance. "God I hate it when you get all logical. Can't we just go throw down
without all the drama?"
"We don't have time to waste. We've got the Council on our backs."
"I don't think it'll take very long," she said with an arrogant glance at the
scattered minions below.
He paused, steadied himself and raised his shoulders. "Don't make me have to
carry you out of here."
All the vampires laid out below her were instantly forgotten, and she drew
herself up in kind, shoulders rising as she leaned forward. Her lips curved in
a smirk that was deceptively pleasant; the smile of a predator. "Think you can
take me?" He'd definitely diverted her attention.
"If I have to," he said, calm and steady, and she felt a tickle of anticipation
rise in her chest. Damned chemistry. Even this
was turning her on.
She studied him for a minute, eyes and mouth twitching with varying levels of
amusement. "You wish."
Angel held his ground a moment then seemed to shrink beneath her stare, chest
deflating. "You know…" He shuffled his feet, glanced downward. "It'd be really
embarrassing if you did kick my ass.
"Damned right it would," she said with a self-satisfied grin.
"So I was hoping we could skip that part?" he asked, raising his brows
hopefully.
"Hah! I knew you—" She stopped, tilted her head at him, eyes narrowing as she
caught on to something in his tone.
"You're flattering me to get me out of here," she said wonderingly.
"That was my plan," he admitted, almost sheepish. A beat, then, "Did it work?"
She flexed her grip on the stake one last time, eyed him suspiciously, and
finally relaxed. He was right; there was nothing to be gained by grandstanding
right now. Her anger, her lust for revenge had gotten the better of her, like
it usually did, red hood falling down over her eyes and obscuring everything
else. And he'd reached right in and defused her like a pro. Clever. Almost too clever. She was going to have to
watch out for him.
Or maybe it was already too late for that?
She shook off the thought and looked at him speculatively. "You know, you're
kinda cute when you're being a wuss."
"Part of my charm," he agreed.
She gave him one last glance up and down, then turned. "You know I could take you, though," she said
as she walked back toward the tunnels, away from the ledge.
Angel slipped his hands into the pockets of his coat and said nothing, smirking
as he followed behind.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
The chamber was lit with cool azure light that played over blue-veined marble
and light colored-stone. The air itself seemed to curl with the eddy and flow
of water, swaying Spike's body gently back and forth as he moved. If he hadn't
known better he would have sworn he was walking beneath the ocean. It was
comforting, peaceful, and if it weren't for the details catching at the corner
of his eyes, it would have been perfect.
All around him there were carvings, pictures of peoples from all times
throughout history, some of races he didn't recognize. They flitted like uneasy
shadows over the walls, and he was distracted by their movement. Fascination
turned to awe and something like horror as he met tiny, empty eyes and realized
that the carved people were looking back at him. They rippled and swayed, blue
waves distorting their faces as if they lay beneath the surface of the sea, and
they, too, might have been peaceful save for the terrified looks fixed upon
their faces as they scurried and fled across the stone landscape of their
backgrounds. Like a pearl from an oyster, the globe at the center of the room
seemed to shed its shell and glow even brighter, the most precious treasure
among this seabed of history. White light flooded and replaced blue, and the stone
people shielded their eyes as if to shun it. He almost imagined he could hear
their screaming voices as they fell where they stood, rendered helpless by the
suffusing glow.
It occurred to him that they feared this beauty; their strange, alien eyes
unable to gaze upon it and understand its glorious transcendence, and he tilted
back his head and laughed. His voice was lost upon the light, as if the globe
had swallowed it greedily whole. He didn't mind. The light had given him peace;
it was entitled to whatever it liked.
Buffy moved at his side, eyes skittering about the room as she took in the
totality of their surroundings. She gazed upon the blanching people scattered
over the walls and frowned, coldness touching her heart for these who could not
comprehend the greatness at work here. Light flared and she looked to the
pedestal, gazed into the orb centered in its gold and silver bed, and saw her
destiny cradled within its encompassing embrace. For the first time since she'd
been brought back to life she felt real, whole, at peace with herself. Heaven,
if that's where she'd been, had been like this. If she'd felt like this from
the moment she'd woken, instead of screaming and scratching at her coffin,
perhaps they wouldn't be here now.
The voices of everyone in her head lay silent, dormant, as transfixed by the
light as she was, and for the first time since she'd drawn breath again, she
suffered a moment of doubt.
"This isn't right," she said suddenly, running a shaky hand over her brow. "We
shouldn't be here."
Spike turned, surprised by her words, still caught in the rhapsody of feeling.
The light seemed to dwindle and recede, its song becoming less urgent as he
fell into the green-gray pools of her eyes.
"Buffy?" he asked, like a dreamer waking from deep sleep. For an instant, she
was the enigmatic girl who'd so terribly infuriated him and so effortlessly broken
his heart, whose shoulders were tiny and strong and filled with the weight of
the world. For an instant she was the young, perky bitch he'd wanted to kill,
and then the light rippled, changed, and she became the older, sadder girl he'd
fought beside—the one who'd gone so nobly to her death and left him in tears.
The one who'd treated him like a man.
For that instant, the light ceased to matter.
She blinked at Spike as if seeing him for the first time, her eyes clear of the
fog of insanity he'd already grown used to seeing there.
"Spike? Have you… did we…?" She broke off and looked away, eyes widening as the
enormity of everything hit her. "Oh my God," she said softly, one trembling
hand rising to cover her mouth. Memories hit her like a freight train, and she
thought the suffocating weight of them would crush her. The pain was crippling
and complete, radiating from every nerve in excrutiating detail, threatening to
break her. She clasped her small hands to her face to hold back the tide of
tears and almost hoped that it would.
"Buffy?" Spike asked, moving toward her, one hand rising to touch her.
She looked to him with the wide eyes of a child, tears welling helplessly. "Oh
God. Please help me," she whispered.
He felt tears rise in his own eyes, moved to embrace her. She was so fragile, a
dark shadow of her former self, hands pressed against her face as if they were
all that was holding her together. The pain he saw in her in that moment was
unbearable, and the moment he saw it, he recognized that it had always been
there, hidden just beneath the surface. He could feel the veil of ignorance
he'd cast over his own eyes begin to rise, baring ugly truth like flesh laid
open to the bone.
Dear God… she was really in there. And
she was suffering. A stranger in her own body, soul tattered and bloodied
around the edges. He could see the shape of her there, trapped inside a poisoned,
rotting mind that cruelly mirrored her own; a tiny glimmer of life held prisoner
inside a cold, dead heart. She was in there… and she wanted out.
He reached for her.
The globe exploded with light so bright and blinding that they both fell to
their knees, hands rising to cover their eyes. The lackeys behind them, who had
been so focused on the prize at the center of the room that they hadn't heard a
word exchanged, fell to the floor and convulsed like dying fish.
--COME!—
The word vibrated, echoing in their minds like an earthquake. It smashed and
destroyed every other thought, slicing through rationale with one quick cut.
Spike and Buffy rose to their feet, eyes as blank as glass, and walked to the
globe.
One of Spike's hands fluttered out, not quite daring to touch its brilliant
fire.
"So beautiful," Buffy whispered, forgotten tears still drying on her cheeks.
--Now—it whispered –together—
Spike's hand trembled like a tree limb caught in a hurricane's fury, and
Buffy's rose beside it, even less steady. Their fingers touched, and Spike felt
a moment of heat, electricity racing through him and filling him with
anticipation. An old memory flickered through his mind; the image of a young
boy crouched in a wheat field, holding his breath and tasting ozone on the air
as lightning cut viciously through the sky, caught unprepared by the storm and
praying it would pass him over. Was it his memory? Did it matter?
Beside him, Buffy ceased to breathe. Their hands overlapped, little fingers
intertwining, and the world itself seemed to cease spinning. There was a moment
of silence so complete that eternity rushed to fill it—and they placed their
hands on the globe.
The world was filled with white hot light that consumed everything. Spike was
nothing, he was everything, he was everywhere and nowhere at all, trapped
inside this stupid undead shell and alive with singing blood, abandoned and
found all at once.
"My… God…" he whispered, strangled.
Hello, William, it whispered, voice
like an insidious caress through his mind.
