A/N: See chapter one for disclaimer, rating, and notes. This started as a light chapter, but I just had to through a bit of a twist at the end. Sorry, I'm a bit of a sadistic bastard.
Title: Gotta thank Dave Matthews for the song and lyrics used herein. I don't own it, and Faith knows that too.
*****
The Mustang fairly hummed beneath his expert driving, the road being devoured under the wheels. The wind generated by the open windows ruffled both his hair and hers; the sunglasses they wore cut down most of the glare from the sun. Their day of peace was over, and now it was time to return to the reality of their world.
They spent most of the afternoon at a small state park north of Sunnydale, taking pleasure in the normality of the day. Faith had been nervous as hell, but after talking to Willow and Buffy, decided to go. Like she would have missed it, regardless of her fears.
The simple dress she wore was Willow's idea, and she was glad for it. She felt like a girl, not the slayer, and it was something she knew she needed. With him sitting there, playing his guitar, she forgot the pain and uncertainty of her life, and let his words carry her away. Granted, he didn't write the song, and she had heard it once or twice on the radio, but she liked the way he sang it better. Because he sang to her.
"Spring sweet rhythm dance in my head,
And I'll slip into my lover's hands,
Kiss me, won't you kiss me now,
And sleep I would inside your mouth.
Don't be us too shy,
For knowing it's no big surprise,
That I will wait for you,
I will wait for no one but you.
Oh, please lover lay down,
Spend this time with me, together,
Share this smile, Lover lay down,
Walk with me, walk with you,
You hold my hand in your hand,
So much we have dreamed,
We were so much younger,
Harder to explain that we are all stronger…"
She was lost in his eyes, in his voice. The song seemed to drown out; and all that mattered was him. She saw the emotion in his eyes, and wasn't afraid of what it meant. Butterflies, check. Rapid breathing, double check. Fear, on the other hand, was nowhere to be seen.
"By my lover's side, together,
Share this smile, challenge the urge to cry,
Together, Share this smile, Lover lay down.
Oh, please lover lay down…."
And she did, pulling him with her as she kissed him tenderly. They lay beneath that ancient oak and held each other, kissed each other sweetly. No thoughts of fighting and killing, no questions of demons or angels. Just a man and a woman, caring nothing about the world but everything about the feel of those kisses.
They couldn't stay there forever, despite wishes to the contrary. They weren't moonstruck teenagers, but adults who knew the stakes of the war they fought. And yet… the stakes were raised for them, the threat of loss so much greater.
The spoils of victory, however, made the battle worth the risk.
* * * * *
The Master's Lair, beneath Sunnydale
"This place is strong with death," he noted, his voice cold and rasping, hiding whatever inflection he might have had. The heavy cowl of the black robe he wore hid his features from any who may have looked upon him, the only notable feature that the robe could not hide was his height, as he towered at almost seven feet.
He raised his voice in a slow incantation, his hands making precise motions through the air. His fingers lacked flesh, giving the first hint at his undead state. The red glow that came from his empty eye sockets was the second, and most notable. He was a man, a long time ago in an age past, but no longer. He sold his life and soul for the powers of his magic, and had never regretted the sacrifice.
As the incantation was completed, three armored skeletons rose effortlessly through the stone of the cavern. Naked steel blades were gripped tightly in fleshless fingers, polished armor designed to protect vital organs clung uselessly to empty rib cages. Faint red light burned within empty skulls as they knelt before the Necromancer.
"Bring the Key to me," he commanded. "Just the Key."
