Faith let out a grunt as her foot made contact with the target on
Giles's hand. The kick had been a little sloppy (something her dear
Watcher would no doubt inform her of at some point during this
session). She adjusted her position in order to fake a lead with her
right leg, then she spun round, knocking the target on Giles's other
hand with her left.
Giles's arm snapped back a bit from the impact and he signaled for her to stop. "That move exposed your back for far longer than you should allow," he said, his breathing measured, but with an edge of weight, "When facing more than one opponent you can't afford to risk something like that. You need to stick with quick, simple combinations."
"But I wasn't facing more than one opponent--I was facing you. Which, to be honest Giles, isn't much of a fight."
"I'm being serious, Faith." He said as he took the pads of his hands and began to put his gear away.
"So was I," Faith mumbled sardonically as she walked away from him and toward the table that held her water bottle. She guzzled the liquid and poured a little onto the top of her head to wet her hair before she ran her fingers through it and pulled it up and out of her face. She'd given up trying to tell him off about things like this a long time ago. She could land that kick fighting ten vamps and not get pounded, but trying to convince Scone Boy of that wouldn't go anywhere.
"Sorry to interrupt this session of Beat Up the British Guy," Xander said as he walked down the stairs into the basement, "But I could use Faith's help upstairs. As much as I'd like to think of myself as the infallible man of heavy lifting, I'm going to be puny man in wheelchair if I try and pick up that headboard again."
"No problem," Faith said, taking the wrappings off her hands and stretching out her shoulders.
"Oh, and Giles?" Xander asked.
Giles looked up at him.
"There are still a lot of books lying around the room, did you want them to just serve as footstools or are we supposed to move those too?"
"I didn't have the opportunity to move those last ones, I was rather busy, you know, something on the Hellmouth is acting a little off and my sources aren't exactly what they used to be."
"Yah, but we've established that that could mean anything from end of the world to a couple of twelve year olds using a Ouji board to conjur up good old Aunt Bessie."
Giles just gave him a stare.
"Okay," Xander receded under Giles' scrutiny, "so we're not big with the sense of humor today. Duely noted."
"Headboard," Faith reminded as she motioned for Xander to start walking up the stairs. She rolled her eyes as she followed him--not that he wasn't right--but she'd learned a little about when to be innapropriate, and right then wasn't it. Everyone had been a little edgy since since this day started getting closer. Sure, it was just Dawn. She was technically harmless, her arrival didn't mean the end of all humanity anymore... but it was she was a constant reminder of a time when it did--there was no way that they were going to be able to look at her without seeing Buffy. And since trying not to do just that seemed to be the constrant struggle of this new brand of Scoobie, that wasn't a pleasant thought.
"I've got some hours for you over at that site this week if you want to stop by and pick up some extra cash," Xander said as they entered the kitchen.
"Sure," she answered, "just tell me where you need me." She'd taken up a few odd jobs here and there since coming back to Sunnydale, but the only decently steady work she'd been able to manage was with Xander in construction. With her life, it was really all she'd ever manage. It didn't bother her much, though. It was a hell of a lot better than the Double Meat Palace, and the pay was helpful since slaying didn't come with a six figure income. Giles' Watcher's salary was good for most things, but she liked having some money of her own. Her wardrobe was a lot more to her liking when she didn't have to justify it too a man who couldn't understand the complete brilliance of a good pair of leather pants.
They continued up the stairs and Xander glanced into what would become Dawn's room. He called for Anya, and Faith looked into the room, noticing it was empty. She watched Xander go over to the bathroom door and knock lightly.
"Hun, you still in there?" he paused for a second and she thought she heard a sniffle, "I'm not trying to rush you or anything, lord knows we all have those basic needs, but she's going to be here soon, and it'll probably be easier to do all this before she is."
Anya opened the door, seeming to force an unbelievably large smile, her entire face looking like it was being pulled up and back. "I am ready to toil, point me towards the labor."
"Oh come on, you're on book detail, I'm the one risking serious spinal cord injuries as a result of the Summers' strange obssesion with solid wood funiture," Xander replied as they both walked past Faith and into the room in question.
Faith followed the ironic husband and wife, finding the new and quite strange living arrangements of 1600 Rovelo Drive to be quite ironic. Giles had taken Joyce's room shortly after things in Sunnydale had cooled down and everyone had stopped passing out in the living room. Faith had known a few things about the relationship between the late Mrs. Summers and her Watcher, so the circumstances that made him chose to stay there often led her to wonder. She had taken Dawn's old room. No one could really bare to stay in Buffy's room for very long, let alone sleep there, so it had been used to store Giles' books and any other supplies needed for the nightly slayage. But now that Dawn was coming back, she would have to move in to Buffy's old room. The one person who everyone was trying not to associate with the dearly departed, let alone her departure, was going to reside in the epicentre of all feelings on said topic. Now, Faith had never particularly been one to philosophize, nor did she pride herself on any knowledge regarding psychology outside of its use in torture and/or sex, but she could feel in her gut that this wasn't a good idea.
- - -
The light had stopped trying to push through the protective covering on the windows of the car a while back, allowing Spike to take a pit stop and remove them for a better view of the road. He'd always wondered why they hadn't stayed in those Nordic countries much longer. The closer to the North Pole, the longer it goes without a sunrise - well, for part of the year anyhow. They'd gotten restless, though, he remembered. Dawn wanted to go somewhere with a nigthlife, not just an insanely long night. He felt pretty bad about that, actually, he didn't know if she'd been that way before, but she'd turned into quite the nightowl since leaving the old Sunshine State, and he couldn't help but feel that he was partly to blame. It wasn't that he didn't love the night himself, being a creature of it and all, but he wasn't sure it was all that healthy for a girl her age to live like a vampire. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sure it was healthy for anyone to live like a vampire, it was just that vampires had the benefit of not actually living.
He noticed an all to familiar street sign, and leaned a bit to the right to tap Dawn on the shoulder. She'd propped herself up against the door and fallen asleep about an hour ago, more from the monotany than anything.
It took her a minute to register reality, then she looked up at him.
"We're there," he said.
She nodded a little, yawning and sitting up.
Spike pulled the car into the driveway, turned it off, and took the keys out of the ignition, then sat still.
"It hasn't changed," she said.
"I know." He opened the door and got out of the car, Dawn follows suit as he heads for the trunk. He got their bags out and glanced at her, only to look away and head for the door, her not far behind him.
Spike set the bags down as his feet came to rest on the welcome mat who's message he'd never believed, then knocked on the door in his usual, clipped fashion.
They stood there as they heard footsteps coming towards them from inside, then the door opened and Xander, Anya, Giles, and Faith stood in front of them. Though they hadn't been the one's roadtripping for the last few years, they looked worn. Anya was energetic as always, her face radiating that light Dawn had remembered, but there were more lines on her face than three years should have allotted her. Xander gave the big smile he'd always had in wait, but there was just a pinch of sincerity missing from it. Giles was reserved, his smile was small, though Dawn had to admit she felt it was more genuine. Suprisingly, the one she felt the most warmth from was Faith, a woman she'd hardly ever known outside of a few memories she hadn't really been there for. Everyone else gave her hugs that felt forced, but Faith gave her a handshake, firm, and she seemed to be the only one who hadn't invested three years worth of worry into this moment.
They all moved into the living room after a few half-hearted attempts were made to make Spike feel less uncomfortable. Faith seemed the best at it, but Dawn figured she knew vampires better than people anyway.
"So, how was Mexico?" Xander asked.
"Bright, but it had good fruit," Dawn replied. She hadn't really thought how to answer, but that sounded right. "I got to see some pyramids, and met a shaman who gave me a remedy for menstal cramps."
"Well, we should probably get you settled in," Giles announced, motioning for Dawn to follow him upstairs as he picked up one of the bags sitting on the floor.
Dawn looked at Spike, then at Giles.
"I should be going then," Spike said, taking his bags off the ground and heading for the door.
"Actually," Giles interjected before Spike could leave the living room, "I've, uh, made you up a place in the basement, if you feel so inclined."
"Right," Spike replied, seeming a little unprepared, "should be good for a little while." He headed towards the basement, passing Dawn as she looked after him.
Dawn turned her attention back to Giles, picking up her other bag and following him up the stairs.
- - -
The cave was damp. He could taste the moisture in the air, but he didn't have to, he could feel its acidity in the cuts strewn across his neck and the parts of his arms which his tunic didn't cover as they hung above him, chained high on the rock wall behind him. He could tell how long he'd been there by the growth of his facial hair, which showed a week or so of length, but he had yet to discover exactly where he was outside of his immediate surroudings. He only knew that he was no longer amoung his order, and that she wouldn't let him go until he gave her the information she wanted - if she planned to let him go at all.
"Now, I've been clear," she said, pushing a lock of jet black hair away from her face, it's sickly-pale complexion emphasized by trails of blue vains scattered across its surface. "I don't want a zombie, no demons, no vampires, no undead. I want human. I want her to have a soul, I want everything there was back. And I want you to tell me how."
"You cannot upset the balance of nature. Life and death are not easily reversed--" he pleaded, but she cut him off.
"I didn't ask for easy, I don't need easy, little man, I'm way beyond easy. Just give me the details. I need a few little instructions, that's all." She walked over to him as she spoke, crouching down a little so they were eye to eye.
"I swore an oath."
"A promise made by a man to other men. I don't give a damn. Tell me, or this won't end," she said, pressing a fingernail to his cheek and cutting a straigth line down it. "I've got all day, I've got all week. I have all eternity, baby, and if I feel like it, so do you."
She slammed a hand down on his chest and his body lit up with electricity. He shook uncontrollably and could feel the back of his head garner tiny slices as it banged up against the wall over and over again. She let go, and his lungs felt as if they may never be able to satisfy his need for oxygen.
She raised an eyebrow as if to reiterate the request.
He lowered his head, his chest heaving up and down. "First...you'll need," he gasped, "to exume the body..."
Giles's arm snapped back a bit from the impact and he signaled for her to stop. "That move exposed your back for far longer than you should allow," he said, his breathing measured, but with an edge of weight, "When facing more than one opponent you can't afford to risk something like that. You need to stick with quick, simple combinations."
"But I wasn't facing more than one opponent--I was facing you. Which, to be honest Giles, isn't much of a fight."
"I'm being serious, Faith." He said as he took the pads of his hands and began to put his gear away.
"So was I," Faith mumbled sardonically as she walked away from him and toward the table that held her water bottle. She guzzled the liquid and poured a little onto the top of her head to wet her hair before she ran her fingers through it and pulled it up and out of her face. She'd given up trying to tell him off about things like this a long time ago. She could land that kick fighting ten vamps and not get pounded, but trying to convince Scone Boy of that wouldn't go anywhere.
"Sorry to interrupt this session of Beat Up the British Guy," Xander said as he walked down the stairs into the basement, "But I could use Faith's help upstairs. As much as I'd like to think of myself as the infallible man of heavy lifting, I'm going to be puny man in wheelchair if I try and pick up that headboard again."
"No problem," Faith said, taking the wrappings off her hands and stretching out her shoulders.
"Oh, and Giles?" Xander asked.
Giles looked up at him.
"There are still a lot of books lying around the room, did you want them to just serve as footstools or are we supposed to move those too?"
"I didn't have the opportunity to move those last ones, I was rather busy, you know, something on the Hellmouth is acting a little off and my sources aren't exactly what they used to be."
"Yah, but we've established that that could mean anything from end of the world to a couple of twelve year olds using a Ouji board to conjur up good old Aunt Bessie."
Giles just gave him a stare.
"Okay," Xander receded under Giles' scrutiny, "so we're not big with the sense of humor today. Duely noted."
"Headboard," Faith reminded as she motioned for Xander to start walking up the stairs. She rolled her eyes as she followed him--not that he wasn't right--but she'd learned a little about when to be innapropriate, and right then wasn't it. Everyone had been a little edgy since since this day started getting closer. Sure, it was just Dawn. She was technically harmless, her arrival didn't mean the end of all humanity anymore... but it was she was a constant reminder of a time when it did--there was no way that they were going to be able to look at her without seeing Buffy. And since trying not to do just that seemed to be the constrant struggle of this new brand of Scoobie, that wasn't a pleasant thought.
"I've got some hours for you over at that site this week if you want to stop by and pick up some extra cash," Xander said as they entered the kitchen.
"Sure," she answered, "just tell me where you need me." She'd taken up a few odd jobs here and there since coming back to Sunnydale, but the only decently steady work she'd been able to manage was with Xander in construction. With her life, it was really all she'd ever manage. It didn't bother her much, though. It was a hell of a lot better than the Double Meat Palace, and the pay was helpful since slaying didn't come with a six figure income. Giles' Watcher's salary was good for most things, but she liked having some money of her own. Her wardrobe was a lot more to her liking when she didn't have to justify it too a man who couldn't understand the complete brilliance of a good pair of leather pants.
They continued up the stairs and Xander glanced into what would become Dawn's room. He called for Anya, and Faith looked into the room, noticing it was empty. She watched Xander go over to the bathroom door and knock lightly.
"Hun, you still in there?" he paused for a second and she thought she heard a sniffle, "I'm not trying to rush you or anything, lord knows we all have those basic needs, but she's going to be here soon, and it'll probably be easier to do all this before she is."
Anya opened the door, seeming to force an unbelievably large smile, her entire face looking like it was being pulled up and back. "I am ready to toil, point me towards the labor."
"Oh come on, you're on book detail, I'm the one risking serious spinal cord injuries as a result of the Summers' strange obssesion with solid wood funiture," Xander replied as they both walked past Faith and into the room in question.
Faith followed the ironic husband and wife, finding the new and quite strange living arrangements of 1600 Rovelo Drive to be quite ironic. Giles had taken Joyce's room shortly after things in Sunnydale had cooled down and everyone had stopped passing out in the living room. Faith had known a few things about the relationship between the late Mrs. Summers and her Watcher, so the circumstances that made him chose to stay there often led her to wonder. She had taken Dawn's old room. No one could really bare to stay in Buffy's room for very long, let alone sleep there, so it had been used to store Giles' books and any other supplies needed for the nightly slayage. But now that Dawn was coming back, she would have to move in to Buffy's old room. The one person who everyone was trying not to associate with the dearly departed, let alone her departure, was going to reside in the epicentre of all feelings on said topic. Now, Faith had never particularly been one to philosophize, nor did she pride herself on any knowledge regarding psychology outside of its use in torture and/or sex, but she could feel in her gut that this wasn't a good idea.
- - -
The light had stopped trying to push through the protective covering on the windows of the car a while back, allowing Spike to take a pit stop and remove them for a better view of the road. He'd always wondered why they hadn't stayed in those Nordic countries much longer. The closer to the North Pole, the longer it goes without a sunrise - well, for part of the year anyhow. They'd gotten restless, though, he remembered. Dawn wanted to go somewhere with a nigthlife, not just an insanely long night. He felt pretty bad about that, actually, he didn't know if she'd been that way before, but she'd turned into quite the nightowl since leaving the old Sunshine State, and he couldn't help but feel that he was partly to blame. It wasn't that he didn't love the night himself, being a creature of it and all, but he wasn't sure it was all that healthy for a girl her age to live like a vampire. As a matter of fact, he wasn't sure it was healthy for anyone to live like a vampire, it was just that vampires had the benefit of not actually living.
He noticed an all to familiar street sign, and leaned a bit to the right to tap Dawn on the shoulder. She'd propped herself up against the door and fallen asleep about an hour ago, more from the monotany than anything.
It took her a minute to register reality, then she looked up at him.
"We're there," he said.
She nodded a little, yawning and sitting up.
Spike pulled the car into the driveway, turned it off, and took the keys out of the ignition, then sat still.
"It hasn't changed," she said.
"I know." He opened the door and got out of the car, Dawn follows suit as he heads for the trunk. He got their bags out and glanced at her, only to look away and head for the door, her not far behind him.
Spike set the bags down as his feet came to rest on the welcome mat who's message he'd never believed, then knocked on the door in his usual, clipped fashion.
They stood there as they heard footsteps coming towards them from inside, then the door opened and Xander, Anya, Giles, and Faith stood in front of them. Though they hadn't been the one's roadtripping for the last few years, they looked worn. Anya was energetic as always, her face radiating that light Dawn had remembered, but there were more lines on her face than three years should have allotted her. Xander gave the big smile he'd always had in wait, but there was just a pinch of sincerity missing from it. Giles was reserved, his smile was small, though Dawn had to admit she felt it was more genuine. Suprisingly, the one she felt the most warmth from was Faith, a woman she'd hardly ever known outside of a few memories she hadn't really been there for. Everyone else gave her hugs that felt forced, but Faith gave her a handshake, firm, and she seemed to be the only one who hadn't invested three years worth of worry into this moment.
They all moved into the living room after a few half-hearted attempts were made to make Spike feel less uncomfortable. Faith seemed the best at it, but Dawn figured she knew vampires better than people anyway.
"So, how was Mexico?" Xander asked.
"Bright, but it had good fruit," Dawn replied. She hadn't really thought how to answer, but that sounded right. "I got to see some pyramids, and met a shaman who gave me a remedy for menstal cramps."
"Well, we should probably get you settled in," Giles announced, motioning for Dawn to follow him upstairs as he picked up one of the bags sitting on the floor.
Dawn looked at Spike, then at Giles.
"I should be going then," Spike said, taking his bags off the ground and heading for the door.
"Actually," Giles interjected before Spike could leave the living room, "I've, uh, made you up a place in the basement, if you feel so inclined."
"Right," Spike replied, seeming a little unprepared, "should be good for a little while." He headed towards the basement, passing Dawn as she looked after him.
Dawn turned her attention back to Giles, picking up her other bag and following him up the stairs.
- - -
The cave was damp. He could taste the moisture in the air, but he didn't have to, he could feel its acidity in the cuts strewn across his neck and the parts of his arms which his tunic didn't cover as they hung above him, chained high on the rock wall behind him. He could tell how long he'd been there by the growth of his facial hair, which showed a week or so of length, but he had yet to discover exactly where he was outside of his immediate surroudings. He only knew that he was no longer amoung his order, and that she wouldn't let him go until he gave her the information she wanted - if she planned to let him go at all.
"Now, I've been clear," she said, pushing a lock of jet black hair away from her face, it's sickly-pale complexion emphasized by trails of blue vains scattered across its surface. "I don't want a zombie, no demons, no vampires, no undead. I want human. I want her to have a soul, I want everything there was back. And I want you to tell me how."
"You cannot upset the balance of nature. Life and death are not easily reversed--" he pleaded, but she cut him off.
"I didn't ask for easy, I don't need easy, little man, I'm way beyond easy. Just give me the details. I need a few little instructions, that's all." She walked over to him as she spoke, crouching down a little so they were eye to eye.
"I swore an oath."
"A promise made by a man to other men. I don't give a damn. Tell me, or this won't end," she said, pressing a fingernail to his cheek and cutting a straigth line down it. "I've got all day, I've got all week. I have all eternity, baby, and if I feel like it, so do you."
She slammed a hand down on his chest and his body lit up with electricity. He shook uncontrollably and could feel the back of his head garner tiny slices as it banged up against the wall over and over again. She let go, and his lungs felt as if they may never be able to satisfy his need for oxygen.
She raised an eyebrow as if to reiterate the request.
He lowered his head, his chest heaving up and down. "First...you'll need," he gasped, "to exume the body..."