Night Falls

Notes: I suppose that I should explain the laughing fit from the last chapter. I intended to write a dramatic scene between Hailey and Kennedy, but when I sat down to write, that scene came out instead. I guess Hailey knew how she wanted to react better than I did. Sometimes characters truly do write themselves.

Previously:

"Make sure the Slayers don't get the Scythe. And for God sakes, kill that stupid bitch before she causes any more trouble," the First instructed.

Caleb smiled grimly. "As you wish."

Chapter Forty-Two:

Two weeks had passed since the First had instructed Caleb to kill Hailey. During that time, he had been using all of the resources available to him to monitor the Slayers. Initially, he had desired to storm the house with an army of Bringers, as he had done before, but he knew that the First was watching him closely. When he had first arrived in Sunnydale, he was the First's prized agent. It loved the idea of a saintly preacher slaughtering impressionable young women for the sake of evil. Conversely, he had loved the power that the First gave to him in return for committing such heinous acts upon the flesh of others. He had not always been heartless; once, he had enjoyed his calling and believed that God himself had chosen him to lead the lost sheep.

However, after years of working to rid the world of the evil that he had eventually joined, he realized that evil would never simply disappear. The good works of others only abated it a while before it came back stronger and more powerful. Evil was a part of the world that could not be erased. God, however, was not so permanent. He had seen countless people turn from lives of righteousness and piety to lives of sin and degradation. Evil filled them in a way that God could not. His faith shaken, he began to look to evil as a guiding force, until it overcame him. He supposed that he was just like all of the others, just like the people that he had once spurned as subjects of Satan. But now he saw otherwise.

The First wanted him to kill Hailey. It had made that request three times. He knew that if he failed again, he would no longer be the First's prized agent. It would find someone to take his place, perhaps, someone more suited to the position. However, he did not relish the notion of giving up the power that had been feeding him for so long. Power was like a drug and he was addicted. Thus, he changed his plan. If he stormed the Summers' house, chances were good that the other two Slayers would be there. He could not fight all three at the same time, nor could he defend himself against any other that might oppose him armed.

Instead, he watched them every hour of every day for two weeks. He learned their schedules. He charted the movements of Buffy, Faith, and Willow. Finally, his luck changed. He learned that the Watchers were planning to take the Potentials in to the desert for training and they intended to take Buffy and Willow with them. Though Faith would remain behind, she would be the only Slayer left for patrol, as the other two did not deem Hailey healthy enough to do it herself. Caleb smiled as he watched the girls pile duffel bags into rented vans. They were smiling and laughing, eager for their field trip. Caleb felt like smiling and laughing as well, though he restrained himself. He only had to wait for the right moment to attack and he would win back the love of the First – a love that he deserved above all others.

……………………………………

"Are you sure that you're going to be okay by yourself?" Willow asked, wrapping her arms around Hailey's waist and pulling her close.

"I'm not going to be by myself. Faith and Spike will still be here," Hailey reassured her.

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Willow joked. "For all I know, the three of you have a weekend of binge drinking planned."

"Damn," Hailey muttered. "How did you find out?"

"I know all," Willow smiled. "I can stay here if you want," she offered suggestively. Hailey smiled. Though she wanted Willow to remain behind, she knew that Willow needed the trip to the desert just as much as the girls. Giles had planned some exercises for her in the mystical arts that would help her retain control of herself when using more volatile magics. Though Hailey knew that Willow was afraid to practice her skills, her conversation with the Coven had convinced her that the trip was necessary.

Willow had not been present when Hailey had spoken with the head of the Coven. The witch had been unloading the guns from the crates in the foyer when Hailey phoned from the kitchen. The Mistress had been initially distressed with Hailey's idea. She believed that no witch could handle the magics that would be necessary to overthrow the control of the Powers that Be on the Slayer line. However, upon second thought, she had decided that no one witch would be powerful enough. The Coven would be necessary. Though the Coven was powerful, they knew that their most powerful ally was already in Sunnydale – Willow. The red haired witch was central to the Coven's spell to break the Powers' hold on the Slayer's. By breaking it, Hailey hoped that they could manipulate the line to allow all of the Potentials currently living and breathing in the world the opportunity to realize their destinies. The plan was rough and the odds of success small, but Hailey knew that they needed more than they had to defeat the First.

"As much as I would love for you to stay here with me," Hailey said, kissing Willow's forehead, "I know that you've been looking forward to getting out of the house." Though Willow was central to the plan, Hailey had not told her of it yet. She had not told anyone of it yet. She planned to speak with Faith and Spike that weekend, two people who she trusted above all, for advice on how to broach the subject with the witch and with Buffy.

"Maybe," Willow relented. "I wish you could come with us."

"Don't wish," Anya said, moving passed them with a bag slung over her shoulder. "Or haven't you learned anything living in this town?"

"You're going too?" Willow asked in surprise.

"Yes," Anya said. "Xander and I may not be together anymore, but I don't want to leave him alone with a bunch of hot, teenage girls," she grumbled. "I'm going to make sure he doesn't forget just how old they all are. Fifteen!" She called after one of the girls as she walked by, throwing a confused glance back at the ex-vengeance demon. "Yeah, that's right," Anya said. "You could go to jail for that!"

"When are they going to realize that they belong together?" Willow muttered.

"Hopefully sometime soon," Hailey said. "And I wish I could come with you too, but I have to stay here. Someone's gotta make sure that Spike doesn't drink himself to death and someone's gotta make sure that Faith remembers to patrol."

"Why do you always have to be the responsible one?" Willow grumbled.

"I never said that I wasn't planning on drinking myself to death this weekend. They say alcohol is a good way to dull the pain," Hailey joked.

"I'll see you soon?" Willow said, leaning forward and kissing Hailey gently on the lips. Hailey nodded as the witch pulled away.

"Soon," she replied as Willow joined the others in one of the vans. Their physical relationship had all but screeched to a halt since they reconciled. Hailey knew that Willow wanted more from her, but she needed to take things slowly. "One step at a time," she murmured, closing the front door as the vans pulled off into the night.

"Think I'm going to go try out one of our shiny, new weapons," Faith said, holding up one of the guns that had been sent to Hailey. The new Slayer had filled the others in on the significance of the guns. Buffy and Faith took to them easily, though the Potentials required more extensive training. Some were hopeless, but most could aim and generally hit a part of the object to which they had been aiming.

"Don't hurt yourself," Hailey joked. Faith, in her excitement to try out her new gun, had almost blown a hole through her foot the very first day.

"Ha ha," she replied sarcastically. "I'll be back soon."

"Hey," Hailey called after her. "You know where Spike is?"

"Blood run," Faith called back. "Looks like you're on your own, sheriff."

"Lovely," Hailey murmured as Faith shut the front door. The house seemed eerily quiet. Hailey was used to hearing voices at all hours of the night. Utter silence greeted her as she stood in the foyer. Running a hand through her dark hair, she turned, and walked into the living room. She did not need assistance to walk through the house anymore. The bullet wound in her shoulder was healed. The wound in her midsection from the spike was little more than scarred flesh, which would heal with time as well. Her fingernails were starting to grow back, though they were taking the longest. She still required bandages on her fingers to stay any possible infection. Most of the other cuts and bruises had healed as well, though she still felt some pain from the deeper ones. Slayer healing had done her well and she knew that without it, she would have died. She believed that she was ready to patrol again, though the others wanted to give her more time. She knew that she could persuade Faith into seeing her side of the matter by the end of the weekend, provided she was able to get enough alcohol into the girl.

She had just sat down and flipped on the television when a sudden feeling of dread washed over her. Flipping the television off, she sat upright on the sofa. Her Slayer senses were tingling. She looked around for a weapon. Her gun was upstairs, but Trevor had sent her a new gun that could hold more bullets. She had placed it in the weapons chest, which sat just across the room. She stood, about to move towards it, when the front door came crashing down. She knew who had kicked it in before she even saw his face. Fear clutched her heart, but also determination. She had been waiting for this moment. One of them would not walk out of the house alive.

"Caleb," she said steely, crossing her arms across her chest as she turned to face the man who had tortured her.

"Hailey," he returned. For a moment, Hailey thought of the old, black and white Westerns that she had watched as a child. She and Caleb stood like two renegade cowboys under the glaring sun of high noon. All that she need was her hat. "I suppose you know why I'm here."

"I do," Hailey replied evenly. "And I suppose you know that I've been waiting for you to show up."

"I do," Caleb answered. "I wanted to wait until we could be alone. The others don't understand what we have between us. They would simply get in the way."

"You're right," Hailey said. "I wouldn't want them here. This is just between you and I."

"I didn't bring any of my men," Caleb said, stepping closer. "You don't have anyone hidden away in here do you?"

"No," Hailey responded, stepping closer as well. "They've all gone. I don't expect any of them back for at least an hour."

"That should be enough time," Caleb nodded. "Well," he said, clasping his hands in front of him and smiling, "may the best man win."

………………………

Spike strolled up the driveway, whistling an old, punk rock song that had come into his mind. He was holding a bag of groceries, which concealed the bags of blood for which he had originally left the house. "Nice night for a walk," he murmured amiably to himself. He was halfway up the driveway when he heard a loud popping noise from inside of the house. He stopped and listened. A thud followed the pop. If his blood could have run cold, it would have. The front door had been knocked clean off of its hinges. Dropping the grocery bag, he ran up the rest of the driveway and up the sidewalk. Crossing the porch in three quick steps, he entered the house.

"Hailey!" He called desperately, fearing the worst.

"It's okay," he heard a steady voice reply. "I'm in the living room."

Spike rushed to the living room, stopping suddenly in the doorway. The room had been wrecked. Hailey stood in the center, holding her gun out in front of her. Caleb was on his knees, swaying from side to side as blood rushed out of his body. The man groaned and swayed forward, reaching out his hand to stop himself from falling. "What happened?" Spike asked. Hailey was covered in blood as well, though Spike could smell that most of it was Caleb's.

"Exactly what it looks like," Hailey replied, keeping her gun trained on Caleb's head. "He came here looking for a fight. He got one."

"Are you okay?" Spike asked concernedly.

"I'll heal," Hailey replied softly. "He won't."

"He's dying," Spike said, walking over to Hailey. Caleb's face looked much like a smashed pumpkin.

"He is," Hailey agreed.

"Are you gonna do it?" Spike asked.

"Do what?" Hailey said, looking over at him.

"Are you gonna put him out of his misery?" Spike questioned.

Hailey smiled grimly and looked back at the preacher. "Should I?" She asked. "Does he deserve to die quickly?"

"No one should suffer," Spike stated.

"Even after all of the shit that he did to me?" Hailey shot back.

"Even after all of it," Spike said firmly, "no one should have to suffer."

Hailey nodded and focused her eyes on the dying man's face. She could see his eyes staring back at her, twinkling cruelly. Their fight seemed to have lasted forever. Caleb had knocked her to the ground and she had hit her head on the weapons chest. He had turned his back to grab a lamp off of the table by the sofa when she opened the chest and pulled out her gun. He had not seen her. He moved back to hit her with the lamp and she shot him in the chest. Even with the power of the First compelling him, the bullet made him crumple to his knees. He had been defeated. Sighing heavily, Hailey moved her finger to the trigger of the gun.

"Rest in peace," she whispered and squeezed.