A/N: This chapter contains sex
It was almost 11 pm when their limo pulled up in front of the Council Headquarters.
"Thank you, Rowan," Gwen smiled and took Rowan's hand into her own. "This was the most enjoyable dinner I think I've ever had... despite some occasional slight awkwardness from my side."
"It was my pleasure, Gwen. Only the best for my friends." He leaned over and touched Gwen's cheek lightly with his lips. The chauffeur had already opened the door for him.
"Rowan?" Gwen asked hesitantly as he turned to exit the car. "Can I come up with you?" she continued when Rowan turned back to look at her. She held her breath briefly. The evening had been perfect; she hoped she had not ruined it with an ill-advised request.
"Sure," Rowan nodded without hesitation. "Come on."
"This certainly beats your average hotel room," Gwen commented as they stepped into Rowan's room. She had never visited the guest quarters before.
Entering the large living room, Gwen turned to face Rowan and held out her arms to him. "Come here. Let me take a really good look at you."
"Sometimes I wish Aryane was still here," Rowan muttered but did as she requested. "No one would spare me a second glance," he continued under Gwen's intense scrutiny.
"Sorry?"
"Just thinking about an old love," Rowan shrugged and went to the bar cabinet. He started fixing them gin tonics. "Everyone said Aryane was the most beautiful amane of our age. And yes, she was breath-taking. But to my eyes, Faith is equally beautiful and so are you, but in a different way. It's like comparing perfect roses to a flawless diamond."
"Flawless," Gwen murmured almost inaudibly.
"Hmmm?"
"I said 'flawless'. If there's one word I'd use to describe you, it would be 'flawless'."
Rowan gave Gwen her drink but didn't say anything.
"From what I can see, your face is perfectly symmetrical; no human has that. Even your glamour, while pretty in its own right, is slightly asymmetrical. And the more symmetrical a person's face is, the more attractive it is usually considered. Then there are your eyes." Gwen raised her hand holding the glass in front of her face and extended a finger horizontally so that Rowan's eyes were blocked from view. "Have you watched Disney cartoons? In general, big eyes equal attractiveness. Yours are perfectly proportioned for your face. The shape of them? Think Oriental. Most Caucasians consider Oriental eyes beautiful. And then there's the colour and the glow. Amber? Practically impossible. Also, do your eyes actually glow in the dark or just reflect? I haven't been able to discern that yet."
"I see," Rowan nodded quietly and sat down on the couch. "Thank you, Gwen. That gives me something to think about."
Gwen came to sit beside him and lowered her glass on top of the table. She took a loose lock of Rowan's hair in her hand and started twirling it in her fingers. She sighed. "I still remember how insanely jealous I was of you when you came to Sunnydale. Then it turned out that meeting you was the best thing that's ever happened to me. It seems the Powers still have something in store for me, and my... choices led me eventually to the right path." On impulse, she embraced Rowan. "I don't know how I can ever..."
"No debts between us, Watcher," Rowan assured her and returned the hug. "Just be there for me when I need a friend."
"Thank you... my friend," Rowan heard Gwen's muffled whisper against his shoulder. There was still a hint of sadness in her voice.
Rowan took hold of Gwen's shoulders and pushed her back a little. He looked into her eyes.
"You didn't ask to come here just to talk, Gwen. The bedroom's over there. Would you like to stay the night and have some relaxing sex with me?"
Gwen felt a familiar arousal course through her. "Yes, I would."
She felt strong arms around her, and Rowan rose to his feet with her still in an embrace. Gwen felt a rush of déjà vu.
She kept quiet while Rowan carried her to the bedroom and laid her gently on the large bed.
Perhaps an hour later they were lying on Rowan's bed side-by-side, with Rowan spooning Gwen from behind. He was slowly moving in and out of her. Gwen had already come twice, so now she was just basking and enjoying Rowan's gentle ministrations. "What do you think Faith would say if she saw us now?" she asked quietly and gasped as her pussy gave a twitch.
"Something along the lines of 'save some for me', I'd imagine," Rowan answered and kissed her shoulder. "I don't think she bears you any ill will."
"I hope so," Gwen sighed. "I really blew my chances with her with my initial attitude. But, regardless of what she may think of me, I care about her very much. I know some pieces of her past and I fully believe she still doesn't think she really deserves you or any kind of prolonged happiness that comes her way. She's always waiting for the other shoe to drop."
Rowan nodded at that. "I believe she is slowly starting to realize that she is worth caring about. We share a connection regardless of the distance between us or who we share our beds with while we are physically apart."
"Am I sharing – oh, yes – your bed now?"
"You're here and I'm here. Besides, I'm positive that if the opportunity presents itself, she won't hesitate to seize it. She is, after all, in all respects, sex made flesh."
"You're both very lucky," Gwen nodded. "To tell the truth, though, I initially believed there might have been something between Faith and Buffy, but Buffy is..."
"Straighter than an arrow? Perhaps."
Gwen gave a half-shocked, half-amused giggle. "Rowan! If you know something..."
"All I have is just a hunch. It's not underlined in the Watcher Diaries in any way, but reading between the lines makes it perfectly clear that the majority of the Slayers throughout the history have been at least bi-sexual."
"Really? I never..."
"Faith is."
This time Gwen burst out in a merry laughter. "I can see some interesting prospects in your future, dear."
"Yes, both short- and long-term."
"In the short-term...," Gwen breathed. "I... oh, God... I'm coming again."
Faith felt her aching muscles relax in the wooden hot tub. The water had initially felt close to scalding but now she could imagine herself actually melting into the warmth that was embracing every inch of her naked body from the neck down. She let her head rest against the barrel's side and covered her tired eyes with the small towel she had dipped into the hot water and then wrung dry. She was close to drifting to sweet oblivion when she heard clapping steps approach the spa – someone wearing clogs or geta – and enter the dressing room. She was feeling far too comfortable and relaxed to lift the towel from her eyes and check; her slayer radar had not pinged even faintly.
After a short while she heard soft bare-footed steps approach the barrel and then stop. That made her take off the towel from her eyes and look. A young woman with definite oriental features was sitting cross-legged on the other side of the tub, smiling at her. Her heart skipped a few beats; the newcomer was stunningly beautiful. She had always had a slight bishoujo fetish... well, bishounen too, but Rowan already filled that slot perfectly.
"Hello, Lehane-san. I'm Nagisa Miyoko," the young woman addressed her, which instantly identified her as Japanese. Her accent, on the other hand, was hardly noticeable.
"Eh, konnichiwa, Nagisa-san," Faith tried with the Japanese she had learned from her manga comics and anime series.
Miyoko let out a merry little laugh which made Faith's spine tingle, something only Rowan had been able to accomplish before.
"It's late so it should be konbanwa. But you have good manners, Lehane-san. I like you," Miyoko smiled.
'WantTakeHave,' went through Faith's mind like lightning before she could stop herself. The young Japanese woman was obviously connected to the Faithful in some way, so she had to watch her steps. Her Slayer sense remained quiet but, looking closely, she could see that despite the apparently relaxed posture of the young woman, there was something that reminded her of a coiled spring. She was starting to slowly connect the dots.
"You are here and you know my name," Faith asked in what she hoped was a friendly tone. "You must know what I am as well."
"You're right, Lehane-san," Miyoko nodded. "I do know. You're the... Sureiyā, right?"
"Yep, the Slayer. That's me," she nodded. "Do you by any chance ride a motorcycle?" she countered quickly.
Miyoko tried her best to keep her features smooth. It was so entertaining, this... verbal duelling, this dance, when both knew the unsaid secrets but were still vying for an upper hand. "Sometimes."
"How about nightly walks in the park?"
"Those can be enjoyable. The parks here are well-maintained but not always safe."
"Who are you, really?" Faith asked quietly, unconsciously readying herself.
"I really am just Nagisa Miyoko," Miyoko answered and, having noticed Faith slightly adjust her posture, raised her hands in a peaceful gesture. "Please, call me Miyoko. May I call you Faith?"
"Sure thing, Miyoko," Faith smiled a real smile, showing her dimples. "I haven't seen you here before. Why's that?"
"I just came back today, Faith. I was visiting my family in Kagoshima. It's on the island of Kyūshū."
"So, you live here?" Faith asked, not really daring to hope for a positive answer.
"Occasionally. And, yes, I'm one of the Faithful. That seems to please you."
"Whoa, and I thought I was straightforward. What do you do here?"
"I'm to be your instructor."
"Yeah?" Faith asked in surprise, blinking her eyes a few times. "So, what are you gonna teach me?"
"Oh, a little bit of this, a little bit of that," Miyoko answered dismissively but her lips turned to a secretive smile.
Pauline looked out of the window just in time to see Faith and Miyoko come out of the spa and start walking side-by-side towards the main building in animated discussion. Every now and then both burst out laughing. She went outside to meet them on the patio.
"So, I see you two have met each other," she smiled at the two young women.
"Yes, ma'am," Faith nodded.
"It's Pauline, Faith," Pauline told the Slayer almost absentmindedly. At seeing Faith's suddenly slack-jawed expression, she continued. "I don't want you to pick up any bad habits from Miyoko and start calling me sensei. Got it?"
"Yes, Sensei!" both Miyoko and Faith replied in synch and almost fell over laughing.
Pauline gave a resigned sigh and told the two miscreants to haul their disrespectful butts to the dining room. Privately, she was delighted to see them bonding so easily.
Besides Faith's, there were six settings at the table with one in front of an empty seat for Lynn Hogan. Pauline sat at the head of the table with Miyoko to her immediate right. Faith was seated between Miyoko and Lynn who was still in the kitchen. To Pauline's left sat Trang, a Vietnamese woman in her 30s. Faith wasn't totally sure of her role within the Faithful, but, to her knowledge, she ran the day-to-day financials and handled communications with their members, associates and other stakeholders who were located outside the Taupo area.
Next to Trang sat Patricia, a young, shy Witch-in-training from Tasmania. Apparently, she had almost died in the Port Arthur massacre three years previously but an unconsciously raised shield had saved her. Word of this had reached a local associate of the Faithful and, two months later, Patricia was in Oruanui.
Next to Patricia and opposite to Mrs Hogan's empty seat sat Lynn's husband Kenneth. He was humming quietly to himself while idly picking his teeth with a toothpick.
Pauline looked around the table. "I guess we can start while we're waiting for Lynn. Whose turn is it? Patricia?"
Receiving a small nod from the Witch, Pauline handed her a small book. "Number 66, I believe."
Patricia opened the book, flipped a few pages until she found the correct page. Then she started reciting quietly:
Tir'd with all these, for restful death I cry,
As, to behold desert a beggar born,
And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,
And purest faith unhappily forsworn,
And gilded honour shamefully misplac'd,
And maiden virtue rudely strumpeted,
And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,
And strength by limping sway disabled,
And art made tongue-tied by authority,
And folly, doctor-like, controlling skill,
And simple truth miscall'd simplicity,
And captive good attending captain ill:
Tired with all these, from these would I be gone,
Save that, to die, I leave my love alone.
"Thank you, Patricia," Pauline smiled as the young woman handed the book back to her. "Who can tell me what is different in this sonnet as opposed to most of them?"
"The mood does not change until the last line," Trang answered straight-up.
"Exactly," Pauline beamed. "Faith, can you tell what the actual change in mood is?"
"Ummm...," Faith grimaced inwardly. Pauline loved poetry and one of the traditions at her dinner table was that a short poem is read at the beginning of the meal and then discussed. Currently they were going through Shakespeare's sonnets. She had never really gotten poetry, let alone love poems written in the 16th century, but she had recently found out that the flow and rhythm in them was oddly pleasing. She racked her brain for a suitable answer. "The guy kinda says that the only thing keeping him alive is his lover."
"That was an excellent point, Faith," Pauline commended her. "And what does this stress?"
"The fact that his lover is helping him merely survive, not that she's the fulfilment of his life." Lynn announced from the doorway to the kitchen. There was a large pot in her hands which she carefully lowered on the table.
"True," her husband coughed theatrically behind his hand and winked at his wife. Everyone laughed.
"So, before we tuck in... one final question. What is it by the way, Lynn?"
"Creamy asparagus soup for starters," Lynn answered and sat down. "Then its pies and finally ice cream for dessert."
Faith whispered a quiet "yesss". She loved Lynn's Savoury Pies.
"You have outdone yourself again, Lynn," Pauline nodded with a smile. "So, final question. The turn in mood in Shakespeare's sonnets. Where does it usually take place?" She looked around the table.
"Beginning of the third quatrain, line 9," Patricia answered in her quiet voice.
"That's right," Pauline nodded. "Tomorrow we'll read Sonnet #18. Line 9 in it starts with a 'but', which makes the turn easy to spot. Miyoko, please, will you do the honours?"
The garden was immaculate. All the trees and shrubs grew in perfect geometrical shapes. Clear blue water filled the little ponds and flowed along narrow streams with little waterfalls in them. The pure-white gravel paths meandering around the garden followed some relentless logic of their own which arose from both absolute order and absolute chaos. Here and there strategically placed gazebos and other small structures made of glittering marble-like stone decorated the area with their graceful pillars and domes.
If a stranger was somehow able to find their way into the garden (in all aspects an impossibility), they could have wandered there for a lifetime without meeting anyone or being able to find a way out.
The place was far from vacant, though. Shadowy shapes flickered occasionally in and out of focus, sometimes manifesting themselves for longer periods to conduct business there with others of similar kind.
In one of the gazebos an animated meeting was taking place. There were four beings present. Two wore robes of a nameless colour which hid their features completely. The other two were visibly human-shaped, bronze-skinned and wore black togas.
"The aberrations caused by the Nameless One's interference will reach the first point of no return soon," the male Oracle stated.
One of the robed figures, whose name could have been Terminus, nodded in acknowledgement. "Erythaea?" they queried from the female Oracle.
"I agree with Teiresias," Erythaea answered emotionlessly. "However, our role in this must be impartial." By her side Teiresias nodded briefly.
"As it should," the other robed figure, who occasionally answered to the name of Porrima, agreed. "Our Champion, then."
"The pattern will adapt," Terminus stated. "It's premature but still within acceptable limits."
"So shall it be," Teiresias and Erythaea spoke in unison.
A blink of an eye later, the gazebo was empty once more.