Part 14: Double-Crossing
Faith raised an eyebrow as she considered the man that stood before them. He was old, at least in his seventies. His suit was nicely pressed and looked like it cost more than a month's rent at her hotel. The cane he held in his right hand had an ivory panther head that was in the middle of a roar. But the thing about him that was completely off-putting was the Cheshire cat smile on his face.
The boy that stood behind him kept his head down, almost like he was ashamed to even lift it. That, or was waiting to be told to do so. He held his arms locked behind his back, and, for a singular moment, he reminded the slayer of Buffy's old military boyfriend. The only thing about the child that seemed to be out of place was the fact that there was something strapped to his back. In the darkness, Faith couldn't make out what it was.
But he was more of an after thought than anything. Her attention was still on the old, smiling guy. There was something about him. Something familiar…
"I know you," the dark-haired slayer said.
"I should hope so, Ms. Faith. You used to work for me," he responded, a smooth British accent making his words sound like honey. "And I did negotiate your release from prison."
That was when it clicked. She didn't know him. She knew who he was.
"Travers," the brunette said, her eyes narrowing a bit.
"You!" Spike growled dangerously, his face shifting to its demonic form.
It was clear to everyone that he was about to make good on the many threats of violence he had made over the year towards the old man. Too bad Angel stepped in and held the former bleached blonde back. Faith was pretty sure she would have enjoyed seeing the snotty Watcher get disemboweled the old fashion way.
"Let me go, Peaches!" he yelled, struggling to be released from the older vamp's grasp. When Angel failed to comply, he snapped, "NOW!!"
"Spike!" his grandsire yelled, pushing him back again.
Angel's dark eyes darted towards the old man's hands. In his free hand, he was gripping tightly onto a stake, as if he were waiting for the attack. Yet the wicked grin remained on his wrinkly lips, never once showing any fear towards the group.
Still, Blondie looked as if he were ready to take on the legions of hell themselves. Some old, stuffy Watcher guy wouldn't stand a chance if Angel let go of the younger vampire. Maybe that's why he held on. It would be far more satisfying to torture him for awhile and find out what was going through that sick head of his when he decided to play with their lives like that, then kill him.
Slowly.
And painfully.
Spike's eyes were still burning yellow as he glared at his grandsire before finally jerking away from him. He growled one last time at Travers, letting the old man know he was far from finished with him, then turned his attention to the boy at the old man's side.
"Good to see whose side you're really on," he said sarcastically to the child, the danger and disappointment evident in the tone.
The boy lifted his eyes from the ground, returning the glare that was directed his way but it was no where near as threatening.
Faith figured that this must be that Sebastian kid that B had told her about awhile back. Wow, he did kind of have a younger Connor feel to him.
"What's with Junior?" the slayer asked evenly. A snide smile appeared on her lips. "Bodyguard?"
Travers chuckled to himself, sounding like one of those cheesy villains whenever the good guys inquired about his top man.
"I would not be so quick to dismiss him, Ms. Faith. Young Sebastian is quiet capable."
"Ye-ah," Faith drew out skeptically. "Wait right here while I go buy a pair of boots so I can shake in them."
"Always were one to just take things for face value, weren't you? Sebastian."
The boy straightened when his name was called, and turned his full attention to the old man. Still grinning, Travers raised his hand with the stake in it and rested his murderous gaze on Faith.
"Why don't demonstrate you're skill with a crossbow for her."
Easily, the kid slid the strap on his shoulder, pulling the weapon that had been resting on his back into his hands. It was too large and bulky for someone his age, yet he held it in such a way that it appeared that he had been using it for many years.
Faith felt her eyes widen as he fired before any of them were even able to move.
**********
Willow laughed as she brought the mug up to her lips and took a sip of the hot liquid. Several fans around the room were running on high, along with the AC, and the ex-witch was grateful for the warmth that the drink provided. Mental note, no more babies in the middle of summer, especially if it meant being found frozen to death in the middle of a heat wave.
Buffy herself finally seemed to be getting comfortable. The covers had been thrown to the side, leaving the pregnant slayer to the open air. The white silk nightgown hung loosely on her body, leaving her bare legs to the cold air as she leaned back against several pillows. With the way she was glowing, and the large, radiant smile on her face, Willow thought her friend looked rather angelic. Of course, that image was destroyed whenever she suddenly belched in a way that it would rival that of post-Thanksgiving Meal Xander.
"Sorry," the blonde said sheepishly, her cheeks burning for a second.
"It's okay. Ice cream with nacho sauce will do that to a person," Willow said with a shrug, willing that disgusting image out of her mind. "So, have you guys even come close to deciding on a name?"
"Well, we're not throwing things at each other anymore. Is that getting closer?"
"It can't be that bad."
"Oh, yes, it can." Buffy carefully placed the now empty tea cup on the nightstand next to the bed. "Do you know he actually suggested Damien the other day?"
"Like the kid from The Omen?"
"He said that it's his son, so we need to prepare for the worst."
"Well..." Willow drifted off slowly, half playing with her friend, half considering the reasoning.
"Willow!"
The two women broke into a fit of giggles as Buffy playfully swatted at her friend for agreeing with Spike.
As they laughed, the air conditioning, fans, and lights all popped off at the same time, causing the two women to jump from surprise. Darkness over took their senses for a short while, before their eyes slowly began to adjust to it.
"What happened?" Buffy asked as Willow got up from the bed and walked over to the window.
"We must have blown a fuse," the ex-witch said with a frown, holding the curtain back for a short time as she looked at the still illuminated street and homes.
Wouldn't be the first time, Willow thought as she let the fabric fall back in place, and smiled at her friend. Even if it was dark, Buffy had pretty good night vision, and she wanted to assure her everything was indeed alright. After all, Maya had said no more stress, and the last thing Buffy needed was to believe that someone was attacking her home.
Besides, how many times had Joyce said the fuses had given out over the past month? Three? Four? With all the electrical stuff they had going, it was surprising that it wasn't a daily occurrence. Well, at least the people at the power company were enjoying Buffy's pregnancy, even if no one else was.
"I'll go check and see," the redhead offered, heading out the bedroom door before the blonde could protest.
Once she stepped out into the dark hall, she pulled the door closed, in hopes of keeping the room cool until they were able to fix the problem.
"What's going on?" a little voice asked from down the hall.
Willow turned. Dylan was standing there, rubbing one of her eyes as if she had just been woken up. Unlike the others, the child had adapted pretty well to the cold, except for the whole getting sick thing. In fact, she didn't even seem the least bit chill as she stood there in an oversized sleep shirt, with a pair of neon shorts peeking out from under its hem.
"The box threw…again," the redhead said, glancing down into the dark staircase.
She did not want to go into the darkness below. The way the shadows moved on the foyer floor reminded her of a sinister realm she had the brief displeasure of calling home. Just the thought of walking willingly into the murky darkness on the stairs was enough to make her skin crawl. Connor just better not sneak up on her again, or he was going to find out how bad she could be even without her powers.
"It'll be okay. Why don't you just go back to bed?" Willow smiled, trying to hide how freaked she really was. "Oh, or better yet, why don't you go sit with your mom while Connor and I fix the box and make Mr. Darkness go away. I think she'd like that."
Dylan considered the offer for a moment, then began to walk towards the witch. Buffy liked it whenever the child would willingly go spend time with her, especially whenever it was just the two of them.
Maybe Willow would see if they could take a little more time getting the breaker fixed than they had too.
She waited until Dylan disappeared into the master bedroom, letting herself beam for a few more seconds. However, her features fell when she realized that she now had to go downstairs and face those shadows on her own.
Don't worry. Connor's down there, and he won't let anything happen. That's what he was there for. Right?
Slowly, Willow started to the first floor, carefully stepping down with each movement of her foot. When she was halfway down, she leaned over the banister.
"Connor?" she called, continuing her decent. Upon reaching the bottom step, Willow asked once more, "Connor? You there?"
When her feet hit the foyer floor and she turned towards the living room, the redhead felt someone quickly wrap an arm around her middle and cover her mouth, simultaneously. Blind panic overtook Willow's senses as the man pulled her back against him, holding her little, struggling body against his. Her screams and cries for help went unheard as he held his meaty hand over her mouth, and covered half her nose, making it hard for the redhead to breathe.
Oh, God, what was happening?! Who are these guys?!
Three others lined up in front of Willow and the one that held her, waiting for orders, while several more moved through the living room. They were robed men, all having the same deep crimson colored cloth draped over their bodies. Their garments also had hoods, and were pulled so that the witch couldn't see their eyes, only their faces from the nose down. Yet, somehow, they moved through the house and darkness as if it were nothing.
Willow struggled once more, trying to break free from the grasp of the man who held her but failed.
"She's upstairs," the one that held her said.
Her eyes widened at the statement as the three in front of her gave a small bow and began upward. Oh, goddess! She had to help Buffy and Dylan!
The onetime witch dropped her jaw as low as it would go, then racked her teeth against the inside of his hand until she was able to gather a small patch of skin between them. It wasn't much, but she bit down as hard as she could until the taste of blood began to fill her mouth.
"Ow!"
He drew his hand away from her sharply, and inadvertently loosed his grip on her waist at the same time. Seeing her opportunity, the redhead stepped to the side and balled her fist as she placed her other hand over it with Coach Martis' words playing through her head.
Remember, girls. The elbow is the hardest point on the body. If you're attacked, use it.
Willow then slammed her bent elbow into her attackers stomach the best she could, causing him to let her loose completely as he doubled over.
And people thought it was stupid for her to take notes in gym class.
"Buffy!!" the redhead yelled, starting up the stairs right behind the three robed men as the others began to pursue her.
Reaching up, Willow grabbed the back of the robe of the man in front of her, and pulled with all her might. His foot slipped on the carpeted staircase, causing him to fall backwards and slide down several stairs. The redhead had avoided him by stepping to the side and leaning against the railing, and she watched his body tumble downward.
At the same time, the man ahead of him suddenly turned, jumped down a step or two, and took a swing at the witch. She barely avoided his fist and felt the air rush by her face. As he prepared for another punch, Willow glanced towards the bottom of the stairs where the others were starting to come up over their fallen comrade. The thought of how Buffy would handle this situation popped into her head, and she looked back up at the hooded man just as the second punch came. It too missed her, but she grabbed his extended arm before he could retract it and jerked it, and him, forward.
Easily loosing his balance, the robed figure fell face first down the stairs. He rolled once, head first, over his friend, and plowed right into the others, knocking them backwards as well.
Willow, however, had no time to enjoy the victory, and turned to charge upward, when something grabbed her foot and pulled. She belly-flopped onto the stairs, hitting her chin, which caused a sharp pain to spread in her mouth along with another coppery taste. It barely registered in her mind that she had bit her tongue, badly. All she knew was that she had to get up there and help her friend.
She glanced back down the stairs and found one of the robed men holding tightly onto her pants' leg. He had a look to him, telling her that he was not about to let her go, so she began to kick at him as hard as she could. The heel of her shoe made contact with his head several times before he finally released her, and the young witch scrambled away just as several others came after her.
The one that had been ahead of the others was currently banging against the bedroom door with his shoulder, trying to make the plywood give.
Willow lunged at him, attaching herself to his back. Her legs gripped tightly around his waist as she blindly clawed at his hidden face.
"Leave them alone!" she screamed, holding onto him as tightly as she could, as he thrashed backwards down the hall in an attempt to dislodge her.
As she clawed at him, he backed them into the bathroom door roughly, knocking some of the air out of Willow. Upon finding something he could use, he began to bang against it, trying his best to get her off of him. On the third bang, the door broke, and the two fell backwards onto the tile covered room.
The redhead landed hard on her back, knocking what oxygen she had left in her lungs out. She groaned loudly as he fell on top of her, and her head banged painfully against the broken plywood beneath her. Before her eyes there were flashes of light, and a severe case of nausea was turning in her stomach as the robed figure scrambled to get up.
He seemed to turn around in midair, and Willow found herself staring up into the mouth of the hood. She had barely noticed that he was above her now, when his fist flew out and punched her hard across the face. He didn't have supernatural strength, but it certainly hurt like hell. Another one followed, and another and the ex-witch knew that she had to do something or he was going to kill her.
After the third punch passed, she suddenly sat up the best she could and pushed the guy with all her might. It was enough to lift him off of her for a moment, and she tried to make her escape.
She turned her body to where she was on her hands and knees and was pushing herself up to run for the door that connected the bathroom and the master bedroom, when he kicked her in the butt. Willow was sure that it would have probably looked almost comical, except for the fact that she quickly lost her balance and stumbled forward before slamming into the bathtub. Her already injured head banged against the tub painfully, causing her already blurry vision to turn red.
The witch was vaguely aware that there was blood dripping down the white fiberglass tub, as she slowly tried to push herself once more. However, the injuries that her body had endured were now screaming, and the nausea was even worse. She had barely pushed herself up when the white before her started to spin, and she fell into the darkness with a final grunt.
**********
"That didn't take…" Buffy started upon hearing the door open again, but stopped when she found that it wasn't Willow who had entered her room. Dylan stood there, the tips of her lips barely curled at the ends for a light smile as she came inside and closed the door behind her. "Oh, hi."
"Hey," the girl replied coming a little closer to her mother that stood in the middle of the room.
Buffy slowly sat on the edge of her bed, allowing the girl to come stand in front of her. That was one thing she never did to her daughter, she never tried to direct her, she always let her come on her own. Most of the time the girl was like a scared rabbit around her anyway, and that was before she was snatched. It was just better that way. Buffy knew what Dylan was like, and she had to come on her own.
"How're you feeling?" Buffy asked carefully.
"Better. You?"
"Like I should be swimming around a large tank while a trainer throws fish at me and people take my picture." A genuine smile arose on her daughter's lips at the image, which made her do so as well. "Knew I could get a-."
"Buffy!!" Willow's panic cry echoed from downstairs, causing both mother and daughter to jump from surprise.
The slayer's instincts took over as she got up from the bed and hurried over to the bedroom door, her stride yelling that she was in charge and ready to fight. Dylan's eyes grew wide as she stumbled back to the middle of the room, watching her mother as the sound of someone running up the stairs came.
"Mom?"
"Stay back, Dylan," Buffy ordered forcefully, opening the door to see what was happening.
She had barely glanced outside when she caught sight of a hooded man charging up her stairs. The need to protect her child came over quickly, and Buffy stepped back inside the room and tried to slam the door shut just as he was entering.
His hand snaked around the inside of the door, his fingers clasping near Buffy's head as she pushed against the plywood. She stared at them for a moment, gritted her teeth, then used her slayer strength to smash them in the door frame. He yelled from the agony each time she did so, but refused to let go. Finally, she gave a little slack, then slammed them again, and she could hear at least one of them break. It slid back out into the hall, and Buffy quickly shut the door and locked it.
The slayer backed away slowly, staring almost dumbly at the entrance like she expected it to suddenly burst open and let hell inside. The thought of her friend being out there with them briefly flashed through her mind before he began to bang against the door in an effort to break it down.
Her eyes darted to the connection between her room and Dawn's. Thank God it was locked from this side.
Turning around, she found Dylan still standing there, just staring at her. There was fear in her face while she stared at the thumping door, which only made Buffy's anger and need to protect her rise. And with her current condition, the blonde slayer knew that meant only one thing. They had to get out of there…now.
"Come on," she said, grabbing Dylan's hand and dragging her towards one of the windows.
The blonde slayer gazed out the plate glass, her mind working over the scenario of the outcome of her actions. They could escape onto the roof and drop to the font yard, but how many were there? Could she take them? Or could they outrun them? Well, first things first. Out of the room, then decide what to do.
The banging on the bedroom door stopped for a moment, before returning in full force with some added help. It wouldn't be long before they broke through and it sounded as if someone had crashed into the bathroom.
Oh, God, the bathroom.
"Dylan, go lock the door!" Buffy ordered, trying to open the window that had decided to stick.
The window had barely opened a quarter of the way, letting the hot night air fill the room as the child numbly nodded her head, and then darted for the bathroom entrance. She had no more than reached for the doorknob when the plywood flew opened, and a hooded figure stalked in. Dylan took a step back with each one he took forward, the two staring at each other intensely.
"Dylan!" Buffy exclaimed, leaving the window and heading towards her child.
**********
The arrow sailed gracefully through the air, slicing straight through its intended mark effortlessly.
"Aarrgg!" a painful scream pierced the hot, peaceful night.
The stake fell to the ground, thumping against the grass as Travers cradled the wounded flesh against his chest. The arrow went straight through the palm of his hand, so half of it was on one side, and the rest on the other. Travers clawed his injured hand before turning his heated glare to the boy.
"You insolent little brat! I'll kill you for this!"
Sebastian slid the strap of the cross bow off his shoulder and let the weapon fall to the ground.
"No, you won't be hurting me anymore," the young man said dangerously, as if daring the old man to try something.
For the first time since he snatched the kid from that army base in Florida, Travers actually found himself afraid of the child. It was like when a pit bull turned on its master, he couldn't believe that it was happening to him and, yet, at the same time, he felt a part of him had wondered exactly how long it would take for it too. As always, Travers had surrounded himself with traitors.
The sneer on the boy's face turned to a coy smile as he said, "Besides, I'm not the one you should be worried about."
He jerked his chin to the group Travers had turned his back too, causing the old man to turn around to look back just as Spike's fist came in contact with the ex-Council leader's jaw. Sebastian watched Grandfather's whole body jerk to the side from the force of the hit, then fall to the ground unconscious. Yeah, that was satisfying to watch for everyone there.
Spike stood over the fallen man, his eyes flashing yellow for a brief second while a growl escaped from deep within his throat. He wanted more, he wanted to go in for the kill, but only restrained from doing so because he was sure that Buffy would want a piece of the wanker too. And anything she wanted, he was more than willing to give.
"Nice punch, Blondie," Faith said, trotting up beside him with Angel.
The older vampire knelt down next the old man and reached over to check his pulse. Unfortunately, it was still going strong, but by the size of the shiner whelping up on the old man's face, he would be out for awhile.
"We should take him back to the Magic Box," the dark-haired bloodsucker said, wrapping one old arm around the back of his neck and lifting the body. Travers hung loosely at his side, looking like someone who had too much to drink and was about to be taken home by a friend.
As his head bobbed towards his chest, Faith picked up his injured hand and was about to pull the arrow free when she thought better. No, best to just leave it there. Wouldn't want to take the fun out of pulling it free when he's awake.
"Yeah," Spike said, eyeing the unconscious man. "I'm sure the Watcher will love seein' his old boss again."
"I bet B will too," Faith agreed.
Nodding, his head, Spike said, "I'll go get her after we get him all nice and comfy at the-"
"She won't be there," Sebastian spoke up, seemingly reminding the adults that he was there. When he saw that he had their attention, he went on, "Not if Dylan did her job right."
There was a collective balk at his statement before the three exclaimed in unison, "What?"
**********
Buffy froze halfway across the room when Dylan stepped out of the robed figure's way and let him proceed towards her mother. The fear that had been etched on the girl's face had been replaced with contempt and sadness as several other men charged in behind the first, each ignoring the child and focusing on Buffy. They surrounded the pregnant woman, who was looking from side to side, her body slightly crouched like a wild animal about to attack anyone unfortunate enough to get too close.
Several of them closed in on her at once, each going for a different part of her body. Buffy clumsily pushed a few away from her, but she really couldn't fight; her sense of balance was wobbly at best and it was far too dangerous with the baby. She soon found herself being restrained by the men, who were holding onto her as tightly as they could.
During this time, Dylan had trotted over to the bedroom door, unlocked it, and let even more men come pouring in. They seemed to make sure that the slayer was indeed incapacitated, then parted like the Red Sea for what the pregnant blonde could only assume was their leader. Unlike the others, his hood had been pulled back, revealing a familiar looking man.
"You," Buffy said dangerously.
Kenneth smiled at the woman, but turned his attention to the little girl who stood at his side. Reaching over, he gently rubbed the top of her head, messing up her curly blonde locks like he was some old friend who hadn't seen her in a long time.
"You did very well," he praised, smiling warmly at the girl. "Your grandfather will be very pleased."
Betrayal hit Buffy hard as she stared in disbelief at her daughter. Dylan did this?! No, it couldn't be. It must be a mistake. She couldn't have! She wouldn't have!
"Dylan?" Buffy asked, her voice small and trembling.
The girl briefly glanced at her, then dropped her gaze to the floor, answering Buffy's silent plea for this to be wrong.
Oh, God, she did.
Buffy felt something hard hit her in the back of the head, which sent her into darkness. After all, an unconscious slayer was much easier to deal with than one who was not. Especially one who had just been betrayed by her own child.
**********