Me and Emily
Part Three
Author's Notes: I want to thank Buff, Tina and Queen Boadicea for reviewing the second chapter!
Later, while Emily was napping, tired after their cross country flee, she wandered down into the lobby of what she suspected to be a hotel to find herself in the middle of a meeting.
"Gunn, Wes, you take the east entrance, Fred, you and Connor take the south entrance. George, Tom, John and Walter, you've got the west entrance, and Gwen, and I've got the north. Any questions?"
"What's going on?" she asked from the landing.
"Buffy, nice to see you. It's been awhile," Wes said, coming over to shake her hand.
"Hey, Wesley. What's going on?"
"Fungal demon is stinking up a posh 'hood, and we've got clean up duty," the lady she figured to be Gwen, now changed from a tight sweats combo into black and red leather, told her.
"Can I help?" she asked, coming down the last two stairs, "It's been awhile, but I've heard it's just like riding a bike," she said hopefully, before adding under her breath, "er."
"Are you sure?" he asked, a hint of concern in his eyes, "What about-"
"Em? She's down for her nap, and she's really no trouble at all. If someone would like to-"
"I will," a petite woman with brown hair and a hint of a southern accent raised her hand, "no offense, but I've always been better with numbers and babysitting than demon hunting."
"Fred, are you sure?" Wes went over to her and they continued in a hushed tone.
"Yeah, I'm sure," she gave him a look that intrigued Buffy, made her notice the gentle way Wesley's hand was on the woman's back, and the way he looked at her with such affection in his eyes.
"Are you sure?" he asked her.
"I've already been over this, Angel, though I haven't fought in awhile, it's something you never forget." The look in her eyes chilled him slightly.
"Fine. You ride with me and the gang. You all have your assignments. Leave the adults to the more experienced people." Some, seemingly younger, who didn't have the same look in their eyes that she had found in hers so many times after patrolling nodded, joking around with each other.
They headed out and piled into three cars. She waited for the others, Gunn, the leather woman, Wesley, and a sandy blond young man get in the car before she did, not knowing where to sit. It was a tight squeeze, she ended up in the front, between Angel and the blond man. She was so preoccupied with thoughts of her first fight in almost a decade that she didn't notice so much the time of day.
"Oh, Buffy, this is Connor, Gwen, and Gunn, you already know Wes."
"Hi."
"So, this is the infamous slayer?" Gwen asked.
"No, that's Faith," she said, turning in her seat, "I'm just your run of the mill slayer."
"She was on the hellmouth for quite some time," Wesley said from behind Angel, "Seven years, I wouldn't call that 'your run of the mill slayer.'"
"I haven't done much with my life, when I was living on the hellmouth, or after," she said, staring at her nails.
"What about the girl?" Gwen asked, "I mean, if that's your thing…?"
She didn't like the way she said it, implying something. "It wasn't. Not for a long time. So, what's the sitch?" she said, clearly changing the subject.
"Fungal demons have a nest in the sewers near Beverly Hills. We've been hired to take them out without a fuss. No frills, no glory."
"Didn't know there was any in killing," she let the word slip without meaning to, and once more she was examining the fingernails that weren't in the best condition. She would have never let them get in such state before. She fiddled with the wedding ring on her finger, not sure why she still wore it.
"Weapon of choice?"
"Huh?" she looked up.
"Weapon of choice?" Gunn asked, "For this sort of thing."
"Oh, um, I'm kinda partial to a sword, or a stake. You'd be surprised what a stake through the heart would kill. I once used a rocket launcher… What about you?"
"I like to use my hands," Gwen said, fiddling with the black gloves she wore, "Just one touch…you'd be surprised what it could kill," she taunted her.
"I prefer an axe, myself. Just something about holding all that power…" Gwen elbowed Gunn beside her, and he gave her a look that said fathoms.
"I like to use my hands too," the man, Connor, said from beside her, "but anything that gets the job done is good by me."
"What about you, Angel? What's your favorite weapon?" Gwen asked.
How about words, Buffy couldn't help but thinking.
"It doesn't really matter."
The conversation lapsed then, and the door that cracked when she had first seen him, and had opened with her last thought couldn't be closed as involuntarily she remembered things from her past, things from Sunnydale she had sworn she had put behind her.
But before she could get to the most harrowing details of her life, the car stopped, and they were there. They went down into the sewers using a covered manhole, placing it back so no one would be the wiser.
Then they were ankle deep in muck, residue from last night's storm, and she didn't have time to think of unpleasant thoughts and memories, because she had to ready herself for what lay ahead. She had done little to no slaying, not wanting Eric to find out, he wouldn't let her out of the house, and she didn't want to die, and leave Em without a mother. But what the hell, she'd already killed her father, why not complete the orphaning process in one foul swoop?
Angel, at the front of their line, stopped them with an outstretched hand. Gunn hefted his axe, Buffy raised the sword she found in the trunk, and Gwen pulled off her gloves as they waited for Angel to let them go.
He waited for the others to be in position, and then he ran into the opening, Buffy right behind him. There were fully-grown, or what she hoped to be fully grown demons, and smaller versions of them, and there were nests with sickly looking eggs inside. She left the eggs and the children for someone else, going after the largest demon she could find. It wasn't expecting her, and she sliced its neck before moving on to the next. She hacked and sliced, unaware of herself or any danger to her, as she worked off years of frustration. Years of not slaying, years of taking abuse, years of being cut off from the world she knew. She knew, some small part of her knew, that it was all her fault. She also knew, if she thought about it, that she was cutting an imposing figure for those that had never seen her before, never seen her in action.
She didn't feel the claws raking her back or arms, she didn't hear the calls of warning, she didn't see anything but the demons surrounding her as she hacked and maimed and killed. Later she'd feel the pain, both emotional and physical, she'd feel the betrayal she hadn't allowed herself to feel, she'd be exhausted from her efforts, but she didn't feel it now.
Finally someone stopped her, and she looked up into the eyes she had wanted so long ago to look into forever.
"It's over," he told her, taking to gore encrusted sword from her, "Let's get you home." She allowed him to lead her from the tunnel clearing, as the people who rode with them followed.
