Part 9: The Talk
Faith flipped on the lights, illuminated the dingy motel room that looked as if it were better left in the dark. The bed, which was still messed up from earlier use, bore what a place like this called a comforter. Strangely, it was an exact match to the curtains that looked as if they could withstand a nuclear blast if they had too. There was an old nineteen inch on a turn table across from the bed, with a remote bolted to the nightstand. The walls were painted a color that Buffy couldn't decide whether it had originally been yellow or a light brown, and the carpet screamed seventies shag. As she followed the brunette inside, the blonde slayer couldn't help but feel that it may be a good idea to stop by the hospital to get a shot on her way home.
"Know it's not much, but it has the essentials. Bed. Bathroom. All the multi-legged company I could want," the dark-haired woman said with a shrug before flopping down on the edge of her bed.
Buffy frowned as she glanced over at a ratty looking chair next to an equally repulsive table in front of the window. Generally in situations like this she preferred to stand, but, given the fact that her feet felt like they had been racked over broken glass and rocks from standing too long, she decided to chance the furniture and sit. As she lowered herself into the seat, Faith watched with a great deal of interest and amusement.
However, instead of making a comment about the blonde's current condition, the brunette dropped her head for a moment, and said softly, "I heard about Pickle. I'm sorry."
"Pickle?" Buffy blinked in confusion. Who said anything about a pickle?
Faith grinned at her, then explained, "Dylan."
"Oh."
The blonde slayer still didn't see the connection, but didn't ask. Faith had nicknames for everyone, just like Spike, and there was absolutely no telling where she came up with that one for her daughter.
"I've kept my ear to the ground, but, you know, demons ain't that chatty before you kill them. Least, nothin' useful anyway."
She sighed as she leaned back on the bed, her hands nervously fidgeting next to her on the comforter. Buffy recognized the motion; Spike did the same thing whenever he wanted a cigarette but couldn't have one. Deciding that perhaps she was more comfortable the other way, the one time rogue slayer sat back up and leaned forward towards the blonde.
"Last I heard, you guys where headin' for former Commie Country. Did ya find anything?"
Dropping her eyes from the dark-haired woman's gaze, Buffy looked down at her swollen belly and began to rub it gently.
"Yeah, we found something," she said softly, remembering exactly what had happened with perfect clarity. Ignoring the brunette's frown and questioning eyes, Buffy quickly asked, "What are you doing here, Faith?"
This caused the frown on her fellow slayer's face to deepen. She and the blonde had never been what you would call 'the best of friends,' but she did know Buffy well enough to know that something bad had happened. Faith also knew that there was no way the pregnant slayer was going to tell her anything about it. Buffy was stubborn like that, taking everything onto herself and never sharing for whatever reason. Pickle was the same way.
"It's a long story, B."
"I've got the time," Buffy answered.
Drawing in deep breath, the brunette let it out slow before saying, "Little over-God, I guess it's been eight months ago…Anyway, I was down in Buenos Aries - you know, partyin', slayin', the fun stuff - and I came across a pretty nasty group of people. Didn't think too much about 'em, just thought they were some wacked-out religious types that thought a little too much of demons for their own good. Tried to tell 'em, demons are not our friends, but they wouldn't listen to me. Just kept goin' on about how 'the darkness was returning' and 'the traitor was giving them the master' or some shit like that. I kept an eye on 'em, but, really, they didn't seem like they did anything but talk. Then the next thing I knew I was hearin' about a ritualistic killing involvin' most of the cult. News said it was like Jonestown, if Jonestown was, you know, run by Al Capon."
Buffy watched as the guilt passed over Faith's face. The dark-haired slayer then drew in another breath and seemed to shake it off before going on.
"Only survivors were the higher ups. They killed those people to try and raise whatever-the-hell they were trying to raise, then split the second it didn't work. I found a couple here and there, but they were either dead when I found 'em or killed themselves the second I asked 'em anything about it. Which got me thinkin'…"
"It's not over," Buffy supplied, following along.
Like she didn't have enough to worry already; she now had to keep an eye out for a psycho cult? God, her life sucked.
"Let me guess. You think they're in Sunnydale now?"
"You know the hellmouth, always attractin' some kind of badness," Faith said with a small shrug. Upon seeing the look on Buffy's face, the brunette assured her, "Hey, don't worry about it, I got this one, B. Might need to borrow the Scoobies for awhile, but I can handle it. You just go, be barefoot in the kitchen, eattin' pickles and ice cream, or whatever-the-hell it is you pregnant women do."
Buffy sighed as she sat back in her seat. Faith told her not to worry about it, but how could she not? There was a cult in Sunnydale that killed nearly all its members to raise something, and, now that they were on top of the hellmouth, there was no telling what they could pull out of the ground with that kind of ambition.
Faith said that the hellmouth was what attracted the badness; she forgot to mention that slayers do too, especially Buffy herself. That alone told the blonde to worry, and worry a lot.
**********
Angel stood in the middle of the station, people passing around him to head off to wherever they wanted to go. The sun had only recently set, and he should be just getting out of bed, but instead he found himself in the middle of the Amtrak train station in downtown Los Angeles.
He could safely say one thing, Grand Central Station this place was not. True, there wasn't really anything wrong with it, but it certainly lacked the glamour. Then, most people flew to L.A. or drove. Trains now a days were thought to be just so…passé.
Angel glanced over to his right and saw Wesley walking along with the flow of people towards the platform area. He was sure if there would be any vamps out there right now, but the ex-Watcher was in search of anything unusual, whatever that might be.
When the brown-haired man disappeared outside, the soulful vampire turned to head deeper into the terminal. If vamps were here, they would probably still be hiding out until they were sure that the sun was down. In a building like this, that could be just about anywhere. Most likely it was in a place marked with 'Authorized Personal Only.'
He found one of the afore mentioned doors in the back of the station cracked opened. It looked as if someone, a very strong someone, had broken the lock and forced their way in. Angel couldn't help but frown as he wondered exactly how many employees had ventured back into the dark room to find out what had happened only to end up something's dinner. Well, there was nothing he could do for them now; he'd just have to watch out for any newly risen fledglings that might have come from their curiosity.
As he himself ventured into the dark room, Angel heard someone say, "Dude, she's a kid. How far could she have gotten?"
Slowly, the soulful vampire walked between the metal shelves that lined either side of the room and held lost, unclaimed baggage until he came to a small clearing far in the back of the large storage room. Standing there were several male vampires, still in game face. One stood in the middle of the room, looking as if he were trying to calm down the friend who was stalking in front of him. The third one stood off to the side near where the brown-haired champion was, but the vamp didn't notice him. Since none of them sensed him, he could only assume that they were not that old.
"I mean, chill. We'll find the little brat," the one in the center assured his friend.
"We better," the one with his back to them growled before turning around.
Angel now understood this vamp's source of anger, a large gash going down the side of his face that was still bleeding. He couldn't tell whether he lost the eye or not, but one thing was certain, he'd never be able to see out of it again if it was even still there.
"I want that kid to be in pain before I kill her!"
"A kid did that?!" Angel asked, trying his best to sound like Angelus as he leaned on the shelf closest to him.
The three vamps turned to face him, the one closest to him growling deeply before backing a little towards his friends and away from older vampire. Angel gave the boy a cool look, before turning back to the one he pinned as their leader.
"What'd you do? Try and take her Barbie doll?"
"Who the hell are you?!" the one nearby demanded with a thick Hispanic accent.
Injured Boy narrowed his good eye as he said, "That's the traitor that kills his own kind."
"I go by Angel for short."
As soon as his name left the soulful vampire's lips, the Hispanic vamp launched himself at him with his 'dude' friend close behind. Angel sidestepped the first one, grabbed the vamp's shirt collar, and, using his own force against him, threw him into a nearby shelf that started the line on the right side of the room. A domino effect followed, with each shelf taking out the one in front of it in a series of loud crashes. Angel didn't have time to worry about it or the attention the noise would cause; he had other problems at the moment.
Dude growled loudly upon his advance, baring his fangs as he rammed into Angel's side knocking them both to the ground. He pinned the older vampire under him, before hitting him across the face several times. Angel's head popped from side to side with sickening jerks before he grabbed Dude's descending fist, threw it back, then forcefully pushed the younger vamp off him. His attacker seemed to literally fly off him and landed hard on the ground in front of the soulful champion.
Angel quickly got to his feet and was over Dude before he knew what had happened. Jerking his wrist back to release the stake, the brown-haired vampire slammed his palm into the kid's chest, allowing the stake to penetrate his heart. Dude's eyes widen in surprise before his whole body turned to dust.
When Angel stood up, he glanced down at the weapon that extended out from under his sleeve. He'd have to remember to thank Wesley for this great Christmas present yet again when they got back to the hotel.
Angel then felt something hard hit him from behind, causing him to stumble forward. Still holding the spot on the back of his head where he'd been hit, he turned around to find Hispanic Guy standing there, ready to strike with a metal pole that he had pulled off of one of the broken shelves. He had a wild grin on his deformed face, as the two vamps began to circle each other like a pair of gladiators fighting for their lives in the Roman coliseum.
"Come on, traidor!" the vamp egged, taking fake steps towards Angel like he was about to attack only to fall back. "Pelo grande! Come on!"
Angel paused in his stride. "Did you just call me 'big hair'?"
Hispanic Guy took advantage of his momentary distraction and attacked, swinging the metal rod at Angel's head. The master vampire barely had time to duck and could feel the metal barely brush against the top of his head as the wind 'whooshed' by. When he came back up, his arm shot out and caught the weapon. Angel's free fist then smashed against the guy's nose, causing his head to shoot back painfully. The rod loosened in Hispanic Guy's grip as Angel hit him several more times, before the weapon fell to the ground which echoed loudly in the room.
Now free from worry about the pole, Angel grabbed the guy's head and slammed it downward, while, at the same time, he raised his knee. The vampire's face smashed into it painfully. Hispanic Guy stumbled backwards in a daze from the hit and Angel quickly jammed the stake into his heart.
Two down, one to go.
Angel glanced over at Injured Boy who had been watching from the side lines as his two friends fought and lost to the so-called traitor. He growled deeply in his throat, but began to move away from the larger and older vampire. Apparently he knew he wouldn't win in the fight, and was going to be a coward and not even try. Angel watched him carefully, knowing that he couldn't allow him to leave; too many innocent people would be hurt if he did.
As Injured Boy backed away, the shelf behind him that was closest to the wall suddenly began to creak and groan, causing both vampires to look at it. In what seemed like slow motion, the metal box began to fall forward at the younger vampire, spilling its contents on the concrete ground. Injured Boy jumped back to keep the self from falling on top him. What he didn't realize was that this motion also brought him close enough to Angel for the soulful vampire to do his job. The wounded vampire's whole body jerked forward as the stake penetrated his back to his heart, causing him to explode into a pile of dust like his friends.
Angel smiled to himself as he watched the ashes float to the ground. That really wasn't so bad. Usually, Cordy's visions sent him into much worse danger than this.
A movement against the wall where the shelf had fallen alerted Angel to another presence in the room. He knew it had to be the kid that they were after, and he also knew that this was the one who must have helped him.
Looking up, Angel found a child scrunched up against the wall. Her hair and clothes were smeared with fresh blood from the last vamp, which was probably why he had not noticed her scent before. However, now that he had, Angelus could feel his already cold blood drop several degrees.
"Oh, my God."
**********
"Mom, I'm home!" Buffy called into the well lit house as she walked in.
As the set of keys slid out of her hand and into the small bowl in the foyer, she heard her sister yelp almost frantically, "Buffy! There you are!"
The slayer turned her head and found the living room was now occupied by her mother, sister, and Andrew. Dawn and Joyce had worried looks on their faces that were quickly changing over to relief. Andrew, however, barely seemed to notice her before going back to his current project, which was going through a large, cardboard box they had drug up from the basement.
"Buffy, where have you been?!" Joyce asked still sounding rather frazzled, though the younger blonde wasn't sure why.
"Andrew said you left the Magic Box nearly two hours ago!" Dawn quickly added. "We've been looking for you everywhere!"
Oh, so that's what this was about.
She knew they all meant well, and were only trying to look after her because Spike had asked them too; but she was the slayer and could take care of herself. And it was starting to get on her nerves.
The slayer barely suppressed a groan as she forced an apologetic smile onto her face. "Sorry. I ran into…" She paused a moment, trying to decide exactly what to tell them. If she told them Faith was back in town, they would ask why and then want to call her for an emergency Scooby meeting, and Buffy was way too tired to deal with all that at the moment. "An old friend."
Well, it wasn't a lie, just not the whole truth. And she was going to tell them she saw Faith, just….later.
Joyce studied her oldest for a long moment with a skeptical look. She knew Buffy wasn't telling them something, she could tell by how her daughter was trying far too hard to look innocent. Both her girls did that when they were telling on half truths. Joyce wasn't nearly as blind as her children thought; she just knew when not to push things. This was one such occasion.
"Oh," the middle-aged woman said, letting the subject drop with that. She turned around slightly to the young man sitting on her living room floor, who was now playing with two small, furry purple and blue teddy bears he had found in the box before him. "Andrew, could you please call the others and let them know we found her?"
The reddish-blond looked up at the request, and, for a moment, appeared as if he might protest. But Joyce just smiled kindly, which caused him to sigh.
"Yes, Mrs. Summers," he said, dropping the bears and heading for the phone.
Andrew picked up the cordless that laid on a nearby table and was just about to press the 'talk' button, when it suddenly began to ring. Joyce barely suppressed a laugh when he jumped from surprise, and had to cover her mouth to hide her amused smile.
"Hello, Summers' residences," the young man said briskly, sounding like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to be answering the phone. Probably came from years of working at the Magic Box was the only reason Joyce could think of for his easy, friendly tone. A confused look was momentarily etched on his face before he said, "This is Andrew. Who's this?...Angel? I don't know any Angel?"
The older blonde noticed her eldest perk up at the mention of her old boyfriend before heading across the room to Andrew.
"Give me the phone," Buffy demanded, holding out her hand.
Confusion was still on his face as he said to Angel, "Um, yeah, she's here. Hang on a sec."
Joyce watched as the slayer snatched the phone away from the young man quickly, almost like she was a teenager again and her boyfriend was calling to confirm their date. Well, maybe that wasn't the best analogy, considering that, even though Angel was her ex, Buffy was with someone else and carrying his child. Still, the urgency behind the grab had reminded her mother of her teenage self.
"Angel? What's going on? What's wrong?" the younger blonde asked quickly, making it sound almost like a single sentence.
There was a long pause as she listened to what he had to say, and the three other people present found themselves strangely drawn to the blonde slayer. There was something going on, and they wanted to know what. Andrew's confused look now found itself on Buffy's face as she listened.
"What? What are you talking about?" she asked, not understanding.
Joyce then watched as the confusion on her child's face melted away to shock and paleness. She turned her large eyes up to her mother, but her chin fell towards the ground to leave her mouth hanging open. For a moment, her mother thought that Buffy would fall to the ground. She and Dawn quickly moved to her either side of her, but, as the Key went to help her sister remain standing, Joyce took the phone from her hand to see what had caused this.
"Hello? Angel?"
There was a long pause with no sound made on either end. When several long seconds passed in silence, Joyce was about to ask for the vampire again when another voice cut her off.
"Gram?"
**********