The Order
Disclaimer: We don't actually own any of these characters; we're just playing with them! We're honestly not making any money from this…as you can probably tell.
Chapter Two
Half an hour later, Faith was still wondering why on earth she was doing this. There was the hellmouth to think about, all those mini-slayers, all that fun responsibility … and here she was sitting in a mini-bus so that she could join Andrew's little gang. It didn't make a whole lot of sense. What if the apocalypse came while she was gone? Sure, there'd be everyone else to take care of that, but she had to worry. Surely jumping into a vehicle with a bunch of strangers – well, she already knew Andrew, but he was strange enough to be called a stranger – wasn't normal behaviour?
She hadn't moved her gaze from the window the entire time she'd been in here, but she could feel some of the others sneaking glances at her. As San Francisco faded away into the distance, the conversation from the others began to fade away with it. And, while Andrew's weird babbling was fairly annoying, she wanted the noise back, so that she wasn't just left with her thoughts and a hushed silence.
Faith felt the mini-bus draw to a halt beneath her, and the heard Andrew pipe up, "We're here! This is it. Faith, um…this is like our lair, you know, where we like live, and train, so we can fight the dark battles of evil." She flicked her eyes up to the building. She couldn't really see much of it, well, it was dark. What she could see was that it was huge. It must have cost a fortune. Man, where did Andrew get the money for this place? Rob a bank?
The house seemed daunting and shadowy, though maybe that was just due to the fact that it was enveloped in darkness. Its tall, sturdy walls cast a silhouette over Faith and the rest of Andrews little club, and Faith felt a chill ripple through her. Andrew stepped up to the striking doorway, and in a dramatic manner, forced open the doors. Well, at least, Faith guessed that had been his plan. In fact, what happened was that he tugged at the massive door handles with all his strength for about five minutes, before crying out for "A little help please?" The guy with the metal claws (Logan? Was that what Andrew had said his name was?) moved forward, pulled a key from Andrew's pocket, and turned it in the lock. "Oh," said a rather small Andrew, "Well, how was I supposed to know it was locked?"
"You're the one who locked it." Logan replied, in a disbelieving tone, before opening the doors. It was pitch-black inside, and Faith gained an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach from the sight of it. In her experience, completely dark and supposedly empty rooms usually contained evil creatures just waiting to tear your throat out. The slayer reached for the stake she had kept with her, ready to beat the living daylights out of any monster that tried to attack. With a deep breath, and one backward glance, she followed the rest of the group in.
Once inside, there were a few moments before that poncy bloke – the one she'd stabbed straight through the chest – said what had to be one of the most clichéd and stupidest lines she'd ever heard, "Let there be light." He flicked at a light switch and the dark shadows were cast back into the corners, while Faith and a few of the others struggled not to laugh at his comment; honestly, even B could do better than that.
Wow, this place was white. White everything, walls, sofas, curtains, all contrasted with the dark wooden floors. The place was so vast, barren and empty, it all looked so unfinished. There were no decorations, no extras, just bare essentials, and it kinda reminded Faith of a mental hospital. So much in fact, that she was just waiting for the little bald doctors in white jackets to turn up and try to force her into a straight jacket.
Well, on the bright side, it was a step up from the hotel back in San Fran. That had hardly been a palace. Yep, this place was not what she was used to.
A voice cut through Faith's jumbled thoughts. "I think it would be a good idea to get some rest." She didn't know who the voice belonged to, she didn't care, she was just so tired from the weird day she'd endured.
Faith spun round. "Where's my room?" Her voice rebounded off of the blank walls and echoed a few times.
Andrew replied. He seemed to be liking this new leader role, though Faith doubted it would last. "Um… it's like next to Logan's, so maybe, like, he could show you, maybe. I don't know." He shrugged his shoulders. Logan turned to look at Andrew, then cast his eyes over to Faith. He nodded acceptingly, and in a few moments, he was hiking up the staircase, Faith following him and looking at him carefully. He walked with a swagger, like a rock star or something, though at the same time he seemed secretive.
He didn't seem all that eager to talk, and to Faith, he seemed fairly hostile. Not that she minded too much, she wasn't exactly a chatterbox either. She left that to all the perky popular blonde slayers. Though, as she walked along behind him, Faith couldn't help her eyes from being dragged down to his hands. They were still in fists – kinda enforcing the hostile idea – but other than that, they looked fairly normal. There was nothing about them that simply screamed 'piss me off and deadly sharp daggers will come straight out of my skin'. Admittedly, she didn't know what the signs of something like that would be but…still, she was a Slayer. Wasn't she meant to be able to sense that kind of thing?
He stopped so suddenly that Faith almost skidded straight into him. Wordlessly, he opened a door to a room. The slayer wished he would say something, anything. It was just weird for him not to. And, even though she wasn't a thrilling conversationalist herself, he could at least make an effort. Faith barely glanced into the room before eyes dark eyes moved back to him and she said the first thing that came into her head, "So, what's with the claw things then?"
Logan raised his eyes and glared at her. "Goodnight" his gruff voice replied, and then he stalked off down the corridor and slammed the door to his room, not even looking back once.
"Fine," Faith retorted. "Wow, we're gonna have some fun." Then, for the first time since she'd been shown to it, Faith stared at her room. Well, it was like the rest of the snow palace. A bed, a table, chair, and a considerably small wardrobe. She dumped her stuff on the bed, and walked over to the window. Well, she might have had a nice view, but it was so black out there, she couldn't see anything. Faith let out a long- restrained sigh, and buckled on to the bed.
Faith came into consciousness wondering where she was. The bed that she felt beneath her was soft and comfy, not like at the hotel. In an instant, she remembered where she was and snapped open her eyes. Light was streaming into the bare room via one of the windows, making everything look so different. She hauled herself out of bed, and after regaining balance, bent down to pick up her discarded duffel bag. It wasn't at all heavy, but Faith was a light traveller, and God knows she'd done a lot of that in her lifetime.
She threw on some clothes – same stuff as last night, dark jeans and a red vest – before heading towards the door. As much as she hated admitting to it, even just to herself, she was pretty excited about this whole thing. It seemed like a fairly important thing to be part of, and there were white hats here that were either just as strong as her, or even stronger. As a slayer, she was used to being the most powerful weapon in the fight against evil. She liked the fact that there were others out there - others who could just as much good as she could. And, working together was better than working solo, right?
Her feet padded along the varnished floors, and Faith ran a tanned hand over the blank walls as she walked. She wanted to find out about the others; to find out what it was that allowed most of them to hold their own against the slayer. Not to mention an explanation as to why a few of them had looked like they were ready to go to a fancy dress party. As she approached the spiral staircase, she could hear faint voices drifting up to meet her.
Faith leant over the banister and observed the people below her. It looked like most of Andrew's gang had been up for a while, apart from that pirate guy. He still looked a bit drowsy, though Faith suspected that was due to the alcohol he had been glugging down last night. Well, time to make an entrance she thought, and with that, she set off down the stairs with an all too cheery "Good morning." As she arrived at the bottom, the only responses she got were from the drunken pirate and Andrew, who mumbled something to his sweater.
"Hello love," the pirate was looking frustratingly down at a bottle of headache pills and violently shaking them. Faith took the jar from his manky hands and opened it.
"There's a knack to it," she remarked, and handed it back to him. The face that was caked in dirt frowned back at her in a confused manner, then screwed up when a loud voice spoke.
"Good Morning." It sounded like someone was speaking over one of those intercom systems that they used to have back in Sunnydale High. Faith looked around for a moment to try and find the source of the voice, and eventually spied a white box in one of the high corners of the room. She rolled her eyes; an intercom? That was pretty lame.
"Speak bloody quieter!" the pirate exploded.
Andrew perked up. "Good morning Charlie," he said with a goofy smile on his face.
What followed next was possibly one of the most deathly, embarrassed silences that Faith had ever heard. All eyes turned to Andrew, who suddenly aware that the spotlight was on him, began to babble. "You know, like in Charlie's Angels, where Charlie speaks to them every morning through an intercom? Because you never actually like, see him, well, not in the TV series anyway, which was like, so much better than the film. I think the film was kinda a um, disappointment to fans, it didn't live up to my expectations, like when… I'll just shut up now," he said shrinking back into a chair.
