AN – So, yeah, it's been a while. My writing's been suffering for a long time due to real-life stuff, but I'm trying to push through it all. Hopefully, this longish chapter makes up for at least some of the wait?
Certain lines were lifted from the episodes "Primeval" and "Restless," as well as the film One Million Years B.C. As always, this story is purely for fun, and no profit has been made by me ^^
Also, any and all Sumerian words in this chapter bear only a passing resemblance to the actual language *sweats*
The Fire in Her Eyes by Imrryr
Act 1 – Chapter 6
…
"Enkidu opened his mouth, saying to Gilgamesh:
'Where you've set your mind begin the journey,
let your heart have no fear, keep your eyes on me!'"
― The Epic of Gilgamesh
…
Sunnydale. May 4th, 2000.
…
The door flew into the opposing wall with an ungodly crash, but when everyone charged out of the prison block, they were surprised to find nothing but a dark and empty hallway. To their right lay a series of non-descript halls, and to the left, behind a single bloodstained door, was the Initiative's gathering area. The chill Buffy felt in her bones only grew more pronounced. She wondered if slayers had a natural flight instinct when sensing so many demons confined to one place.
A cavern full of dead minotaurs was beginning to look positively inviting by comparison.
Giles whispered some words under his breath and a blue wisp of light sailed over Buffy's shoulder, smacking into the far door.
"Repelling spell," he said proudly as the metal door locked securely into place behind an intricate blue seal. "It should give us about -," both were suddenly split in two by a giant horn, filling the hall with a horrid screech that had Tara and Willow covering their ears. "- zero seconds," Giles finished, swallowing.
Whatever was attached to that horn promptly pulled back and charged again, knocking the door completely off its hinges and bringing down some of the ceiling for good measure.
A scaly, reptilian face appeared through the dust, scarred and bleeding. It peered at them with eight beady eyes and roared. Hands and legs clawed at the wall on both sides, but whether they were trying to pull the beast back, or trying to break through for themselves, Buffy didn't know.
Anya fired several shots from her crossbow, but they bounced harmlessly off the creature's thick skin. They'd need to get closer, but, yeah. Eww.
Screeching again, the beast struggled forward, only to succeed in wedging itself more tightly in the breech it had created. 'Oh, god,' Buffy realized. Those other limbs didn't belong to other demons, they were part of the same demon.
Faith was standing right beside her, slowly mouthing the words, 'What. The. Fuck?'
"This way!" Willow yelled from behind them.
Despite the disgusted look she still wore, Faith squared her shoulders and leaned slightly forward while Buffy did the same. The giant whatever-it-was had pushed itself about halfway through now, but the wall surrounding it was already beginning to crack as it huffed, and screamed, and struggled.
Just as they were both about to charge, Giles grabbed a hold of Faith's shirt collar. "Come on," he growled, yanking her backwards in the direction of the rest of the gang.
"But –"
It was hard not to laugh. Faith had the look of a child being ordered to come back inside and finish scrubbing the dishes.
"Bloody slayers," Giles muttered as he pulled Faith down the hall. "It's like herding cats."
Buffy swallowed as the wall continued to crack. She'd faced down worse things than this, but nothing quite so hideous... well, with the possible exception of Balthazar. 'God, was that guy ugly,' she thought before shaking her head. At least in terms of the smell, the two were about even.
"Just keep it distracted for five minutes," Giles called out, already out of sight beyond the next corner. "That's all we need!"
Buffy grimaced. She'd heard that line before. "Five minutes," she muttered aloud as the foul creature reared and finally broke through, sending tiny chunks of concrete skidding down the hall and past her feet. "Piece of cake." She searched for a place to run.
"We're really gonna just leave her out there by herself?" Faith protested as Giles slammed the door behind them, putting another one of those ineffectual locking spells on it for good measure. She didn't get an answer. The old man was too busy toppling over, and Faith barely caught him before he planted his face in the floor. "Shit, G. You okay?"
"Yes," he grunted, allowing her to help him to his feet again. "I'm afraid I'm only a second-rate witch. Casting so many spells in rapid succession is really quite beyond my abilities."
Willow and Tara already had half a circle of candles arranged on the floor, dimly illuminating what appeared to be the Initiative's cafeteria: a long, cavernous space fitted with stainless steel tables. It bore an unfortunate resemblance to the one back in prison.
"She won't be on her own," Tara said, staring deeply into the flickering light before her while Willow finished setting and lighting the rest. "You'll be with her."
Faith looked nervously back at the door. She sensed demons - a lot of demons - and they were getting closer.
"I'm very glad you're here, Tara," Giles was saying, wiping the sweat off his forehead. He dropped his bag and began quickly removing a bizarre collection of ingredients: tarot cards, a bag of powder, and one mystical gourd. "I'm just about worn out."
The two witches smiled; Tara looking embarrassed, and Willow looking proud. There was another bang, the sound of a wall being smashed in if Faith was any judge, but it was coming from further away. She could still sense movement, and that was a good sign. It meant Buffy was likely still alive. Faith shouldn't have been surprised. If anyone could annoy an entire pack of demons, it was definitely B.
"Maybe you should call yourself a warlock," Faith offered, rapidly tapping her foot as she continued to stare intently at the door. "Would make you sound more powerful, at least."
"Warlock means oath-breaker," Tara replied. "It's considered an insult among witches."
Faith glanced over her shoulder. "Really? Uh, forget I said anything."
"Faith," Giles said pointedly, beckoning her to sit next to him. Everyone else had taken their places around the circle, with Anya remaining by the door, crossbow still in hand. Faith dropped onto the cold concrete with a sigh. The commotion from beyond the walls was growing more difficult to hear, but she could feel the floor rumbling beneath her.
"Faith, you must concentrate," he continued, taking the slayer's right hand while Tara took the left.
"Yeah, yeah," she muttered, letting out a deep breath as she tried to fight the adrenaline coursing through her veins - never an easy task even at the best of times. "Use the Force, right?"
"Faith."
"Sorry."
"Now, do you rememb-"
"Oh, Star Wars!" Anya interrupted, appearing genuinely proud of herself.
Giles sighed. "Do you remember the words we went over?"
Faith nodded. Studying and her had never really seen eye to eye, but nothing was more motivational than a test where failure meant death and dissection, and not necessarily in that order. It gave her that little extra kick.
"Then let us begin."
The two witches nodded and Willow was the first to speak, turning over a card on which appeared the figure of a magician holding a baton high in the air. "The power of the slayer and all who wield it -"
When the monster bolted for her, quicker than something so large had any right to be, Buffy quickly scratched any hope of fighting it head-on in that narrow hallway. Instead, she darted back into the prison block.
The thing's hot breath was at her back as she ran as hard and fast as she could. Fortunately, it was no smarter than it looked, and when Buffy suddenly darted right and leapt into one of the cells, it continued on, tried to turn, and crashed into a concrete dividing wall. As it fell back, dazed and bleeding, demons began to flood the ward, blocking the way back. They didn't pursue her, instead choosing to gather together and watch from the sidelines, cheering when the great demon reared back on its hind legs.
Buffy sidestepped its next charge, feeling oddly sorry when it crashed into yet another wall, burying itself in blocks of concrete. When it pulled back, it only groaned at her, its breathing ragged. Picking up a chunk of the wall, Buffy struck the creature once in the head before it finally slumped to the floor unconscious. Her audience went silent.
Looking at the thing made her shudder. Half of the demon's twitching limbs must have come from former Initiative soldiers and scientists. Was this an experiment? Was Adam was just doing whatever he wanted with their bodies? Hopefully, they had died before -
She turned away, not liking where her thoughts where taking her. Her audience hadn't moved, but Buffy's heart pounded all the harder for it. A giant monster was one thing; an entire army of vampires and demons was another matter entirely. She cursed herself for not wearing a watch. Was it too much to hope that she'd already killed five minutes?
A ceiling panel fell to the floor behind her, echoing down the block. Nowhere to run. If she went out into the underground caverns, she'd only be putting her friend's lives in danger. She needed to be a distraction.
Taking a deep breath, Buffy strode as calmly and confidently as she could back in the direction of her waiting crowd. 'Stall for time. Stall for time. Stall for time.'
It was hard to keep a neutral expression. Amongst the standard fare of vamps and demons were more of those hybrid creations, and unlike the beast she had just fought, these were no mere experiments. Their eyes shone with intelligence; the result of just two days of Adam's hard work, and there were dozens of them. She gulped. Things were not looking good.
But her eyes narrowed when the line of demons parted and one of them stepped under a faint overhead light. This one she knew all too well, even though practically every inch of him was worse for wear than the last time they had met. Shiny metal implants circled his neck and upper arms, and new grafts of miss-matched demonic skin marred much of his bare torso and face. "Adam was hoping for a lot of new recruits today," Forrest said, sneering. "I suppose he'll have to make do with you."
Buffy crossed her arms. "You've died twice already. Isn't it time to retire?"
His voice still had that odd mechanical resonance to it, as well as that ever-present tinge of disgust Buffy was already quite used to. "Oh, I think we'll be even on that score soon enough."
He stretched out his hand, and a hidden bolt fired directly at her chest. Buffy caught it easily, and something green spilled out from the tip and stained her shirt. It smelled like the sedative they would use on Oz when he got out of control. "So," she drawled. "Adam gets the machinegun hand, and you get... that?"
Forest swore, raising his fists. "I'd much rather kill you anyway."
Even with his upgraded demon attachments, Forrest was out of his league. He lunged at her and missed, and a kick to his back sent him flying into one of the cells. Still, what he lacked in grace, he made up for in resilience. He was on his feet again in an instant, throwing a punch that actually managed to connect with Buffy's shoulder.
'Okay,' she thought, wincing. 'Maybe he's not out of his league.' A well-placed strike of her own had him clutching his head and staggering backwards, but again, Forrest took only a second to recover. This was getting iffy. The man was getting more Terminator-like with every resurrection.
"Adam wants you for the squad," he growled, striking the air where Buffy's head had been a second before. "Or, to be more specific: he wants parts of you for the squad."
Buffy flipped backwards, landing solidly on her feet. "First off: eww. Second: I don't do requests."
"It's not a request."
She caught the glint in his eye a second too late, and the next thing she saw was the arrowhead poking out of her chest.
Buffy fell to her hands and knees, the demons at her back cheering as she began to cough up blood.
Faith had never worked well in groups, but the lines she was reciting in time with the others came to her lips as easily as if she'd been speaking them all her life.
"We enjoin that we may inhabit the vessel, the hand... daughter of Sineya, first of the ones."
In the beginning they were all just empty words to her, but then it started in her chest; a warm energy spreading out from her center. Slowly, inexorably, the power suffused every muscle and every vein, and it was like no other spell she'd experienced before.
"We implore thee: admit us. Bring us to the vessel! Take us now!"
This warmth was no alien or demonic presence - it was a power from within. It belonged to her, it sung to her, and there was more of it than she could've ever imagined. An unseen hand began stroking her chin. It whispered her name in a strong, yet sweet voice. 'You've lost your way, yet you have always understood.' Faith saw herself on the run from Kakistos, fighting vampires by night, and sleeping where she could by day. Slaying the dark forces alone, looking after only herself, that was the way things were meant to be; the way the slayer had lived for ten-thousand generations. But that was okay. 'You are stronger on your own,' the voice beckoned, "you don't need them.'
Her heart was pounding. A year ago she would've believed that - even reveled in what the voice was saying - but now Faith wasn't so sure.
Still, the power within her grew until she felt she might burst. As the chanting continued, its' thoughts became her thoughts. Something kept her glued to the floor, otherwise she would've sprung from her seat and cried out to the world, 'No more bars, no more chains.' If only she were free, she could do what must be done - what should've been done ages ago.
It was increasingly difficult to know where she ended and the magic began. Faith's thoughts were her own, yet not. And now they carried an unaccustomed weight, like somehow she knew that the binds holding her down would break just as inevitably as a wall trying to hold back the raging sea.
"We are heart," they chanted together.
"We are mind."
"We are spirit."
"From the raging storm –" The words echoed in her mind, and the air crackled as tingles ran up every hair on her body. "We bring the power of the Primeval One!"
...
The shift took her by surprise, and with a suddenness that reminded her of swapping bodies; a feeling that became even more acute when she sensed the relative lightness of Buffy's frame, felt the strength in her arms, and heard the familiar pitch of her voice as she coughed and writhed on the floor.
Then she felt a deep and very familiar pain in her chest. Something jagged was sticking out of her abdomen. Blood poured from her. She was dying.
But suddenly, Buffy opened her eyes, and a yellow light seemed to light up the dirty floor. Immense power suffused the slayer's body and Faith recognized that sensation too. Magic.
Faith felt it all as Buffy pushed herself off the ground, heard her thoughts as she regarded her audience with a newfound air of dismissal, and felt the crackling of energy running through her. Demons surrounded her on all sides, and Faith felt the arrowshaft as Buffy pulled it out and tossed it aside without flinching. The wound closed up immediately. Nothing hurt. All she felt was power and light.
A pieced-together man spun on his heels as the other demons stepped back in fear. Reflected in his eyes, Buffy could see her own, shining a bright yellow like fire.
Any residual fear melted away, and Buffy was serene and supremely confident, like a goddess descending from heaven and into the world of mortals.
'Forrest,' she thought, and Faith's mind was filled with images of a soldier turned demon-hybrid. They'd fought before in this place. He had died once. He would die again.
The demons raised their weapons - crossbows, guns, and fists - but Buffy didn't move. They all eyed each other nervously until their exasperated leader gave the order to fire. As they let loose a volley of bullets and arrows, Buffy raised her hand and the shots arced through the air, returning from whence they came and filling the creatures with holes. In just seconds, a dozen demons lay dead on the floor.
'Damn. Nice one, B,' Faith thought. Still, there were a lot of them left in the room, and Buffy didn't waste any words. In the back of her mind Faith could now hear Willow and Tara chanting the words to a spell. "Uru," Buffy said simply, and Faith instinctively understood the intention behind the strange word: a protecting fire. Holding up a hand, she summoned a ball of light which hovered in the air and burned like the sun. Gasping, Forrest shielded his eyes, but it was no use. His flesh, and the flesh of his entire platoon began to sizzle, then peel, then catch fire. Seemingly locked in place, they screamed in terror as Buffy's magical fire grew inexorably brighter until every demon in the prison block was blasted into a fine pile of ash.
In an instant the fire was gone and all was still. Inexplicably, the formerly dank prison block remained lit with a light that reminded Faith of a warm spring day, but where it was coming from she had no idea.
Buffy stepped confidently back into the hallway on her way to the gathering area, the light following her all the while. A million images flashed through their shared mind as she walked: people and places Faith had never seen before, strangers in dark robes chasing after her, an entire nation bowing before her feet, lands she had never visited but yet felt so very familiar. It was like one of her slayer dreams on some serious drugs; visions so real Faith could feel the paving stones beneath her feet, taste the sulfur in the air, and hear the crashing of waves on a distant shore.
There were other scenes floating around in there too; glimpses of Buffy through the eyes of Willow and Giles. A distant night in the Summers' house with a young Buffy in tears and Willow attempting to comfort her, Giles doing the same a year later in the dark high-school library. Buffy's eyes were glassy then, her posture slumped. She wasn't crying, but looked like she had been. Faith didn't need to hear her speak to know whose name was on her lips.
It took a lot of effort to tear her concentration away.
And in that maze of visions, Tara was also there. She didn't really know anyone but Willow, but her intent was the same as the others: protect Buffy at all costs. Sure, Buffy was Willow's best friend, but it was clear that there was more to it than that. Tara cared because she was Tara.
Faith allowed herself to think those same thoughts. It was hard to simply push aside a year's worth of resentment, of lies, and betrayals, but this was an opportunity to show Buffy that she really had changed, that she wasn't the same person she had been a year ago, or even a few months ago.
Her thoughts took her to Christmas Eve, and Faith remembered the way her heart raced after knocking on the woman's door. 'Stay cool, don't let her know how excited you are.' That had been tough, especially after Buffy smiled so warmly at her.
Then there were all the nights when it had just been the two of them slaying. It had felt so right... like this was the way it was always meant to be; her and Buffy together under the moon, kicking demon ass and having fun together.
It brought back feelings she swore never to allow herself to indulge in again. In the end, they had always caused her to lash out, to end up more miserable than when she started, but this was for Buffy. Faith wanted her to survive and to win. Giles brought the knowledge, Tara and Willow were bringing the heart and the magic… and Faith, well, Faith was only bringing the things Buffy already had; the strength, the speed, the awareness of the slayer. Still, she concentrated; scanning the way forward, building on Buffy's strengths, looking out for her safety as she should of done long ago.
The debris blocking the door cleared with a mere wave of Buffy's hand, and that ever present sense of impending doom only grew stronger. There were a lot of demons in here. Hundreds of them. Dimly, she was aware that on any normal day such a sensation would have sent her running for this hills.
Now, such a thing felt like the fears of a child. For too long, Adam had been allowed to reign in this pitiful place, his rise brought about by fools who did not understand what they were doing. Today, those who died would finally receive satisfaction. As she strode in, all was bathed in light, making that grizzly place feel warmer and safer than it had any right to be.
The main hall was little more than a large concrete square under a high ceiling. Wrecked vehicles were parked haphazardly in her way, and open crates lay toppled over in every direction. Everywhere hung the stench of decay, and the sight of blood, but this too faded as she passed.
Demons were waiting by the facility's metal garage doors, and they were truly something out a nightmare. Some were pieced together as Forrest had been, but without the same amount of care and attention. Others were easily triple Buffy's size, but when she stepped around the group of parked trucks, the demons flinched at the sight of her. They were scared - no - they were terrified.
And before this giant army was a dais that had once been used to give the officer in charge a clear view of the Initiative's surgery and dissection tables.
That was where the awful smell had been coming from, but Buffy paid it no heed.
At the top of the steps stood a giant mass of human and demon parts with neck muscles that would've made Henry Rollins jealous. So, this was Adam. Large pieces of metal were grafted to his torso and the left side of his face, but it was clear that, much like Forrest, he was also part demon. The tension in the hall was obvious, but he continued busily tapping away at some sort of computer interface. Was he oblivious, or unconcerned?
Faith relived every blow Buffy had suffered as if it were her own. She felt her terror, and her despair when their plans had come crashing down. She saw the dead bodies littering the ground as they'd escaped, knowing she'd live to see another day when so many others wouldn't, but now Buffy was just standing there, regarding Adam as one might regard a mosquito.
That ancient energy flowing through their shared body only continued to grow. It comforted her, but it called to Buffy, demanding the death of every abomination in this room, demanding vengeance for the fallen, and Faith truly knew it for what is was: the power of the First Slayer. The Primeval One.
Part of her was jealous. Buffy had always been first, had always been better, had always been more worthy to carry the slayer's power, but those dark thoughts receded as quickly as they came. Buffy was beautiful, perfect… untouchable.
Adam finally lifted his eyes from his console. Despite the strange sight, his expression didn't betray the fear the others' had. He seemed a little surprised, but also supremely confident. "Ah, the slay-"
Buffy tilted her head and Adam's hand shot to his throat, clutching it as he struggled to breathe. Her golden hair waved in a tempest that seemed to come from everywhere at once. When she spoke, her voice was ethereal - the voice of a power - like nature itself was speaking through her, "We grow tired of your words."
In jerking movements, Adam knelt to the ground, clearly not of his own volition. Faith saw the memory: Riley, controlled by the chip in his chest, unable to move. This is what Adam had done to him. "We are the heart," Buffy said in that ancient language, like she was reciting a prayer. "We are the mind. We are the spirit. From the raging storm, we bring the power of the Primeval One."
Adam's eyes grew wide, and his free arm transformed into a machinegun. He fired, but Buffy only raised a hand in response. "Boil the air," she ordered, and Faith could distinctly hear Giles' voice mixed in her own. The bullets never reached their target, instead hitting a magical barrier and dissolving out of existence. 'So fucking wicked,' Faith thought, and Buffy actually smiled.
Faith kept her senses open. Every demon was an open book to her now. Their strengths, their weaknesses, even the blood pumping through their veins; she saw it all. And that's when she felt it; three winged demons descending on her from the ceiling.
'Buffy!' Faith thought. 'Behind you.'
She turned and looked up at the advancing dragon-like creatures. With an amused expression, she snapped her fingers and her attackers transformed into a flock of white doves. Confused, they fluttered above her head for a moment before scattering back to the rafters.
Completely untouchable.
A motley assortment of demons had lined up on Adam's left, finally seeming to get their act together. They growled and hissed and shook an impressive assortment of weapons, but Buffy remained unmoved. It was obvious what should be done. With another command and a wave of her hand, Adam's machinegun hand transformed again. He turned and fired a salvo of rockets into his own men.
Over their ear-piercing screams, Buffy impassively watched the ensuing massacre. Within seconds, half of Adam's army lay in ruins at his feet. The rest scattered like insects under a light, either bolting for the elevator shaft or tearing at the doors trying to get out. None dared approach her, nor did a single demon try making a break for the prison ward. Buffy had every last one of them in an utter frenzy; all five feet, four inches of her.
The mound of mangled bodies, still moving limbs, and pools of multi-colored blood lying on the floor easily made the shortlist of the foulest things Faith had ever seen in her life. Buffy seemed to take notice of this, and the pile transformed into a patch of grass and blue flowers. This growth began to spread across the floor, climbing over crates and up the walls until all the hall was a verdant garden.
That ever present light shone all the brighter, as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds, leaving the running demons looking for cover but finding none. Like specters; every last creature - vampire and demon – dissolved into dust, leaving only their battered leader, his blistered skin half-charred a reddish-brown and his metal implants melted and twisted in painful looking ways. The room had gone deathly quiet, and all that could be heard now were Adam's labored breaths. Buffy advanced, summoning the First Slayer's strength to kick him in the stomach, before grabbing one of his enormous upper arms and sending him flying over the ledge and into the dissection chamber.
She needn't hurry after him. Sweat ran down his charred face as he gasped with the simple effort of picking himself off the floor. "How… can you…?"
"You could never hope to grasp the source of our power," Buffy intoned as she squeezed his neck and pulled him back to his feet. Her right hand pushed easily through his chest, with Adam swatting ineffectually at her all the while. "But yours is right here." With that, she pulled out his uranium core and tossed his lifeless body onto the nearest table.
…
"What are you doing up?"
Faith blinked awake to find herself in darkness. She flexed her fingers, still grasped in her companion's hands - no sense of unearthly power, no visions of far-flung times, no one else's thoughts running through her head. It wasn't like waking from a dream at all. It was like she had been a force of nature with power over all the world for a few glorious minutes, but now she was just plain old Faith again.
Kind of a letdown, to say the least.
Anya was looking down on her, appearing surprisingly bored for someone who had just survived a near encounter with an apocalypse. In fact, strangely, the other people in the circle hadn't seemed to have gotten the memo on that. Faith pried Tara and Giles' fingers from her own and shook them both but they remained in their weird magical trance, all breathing hard and sweaty-like. Freaky. When she stood up, her limbs felt flush with residual energy, every muscle tingling like the day she'd been called. "Adam's dead. It's over."
Anya sighed. "I'm not so sure about that."
"Huh?"
She twirled a crossbow bolt expertly in her hand. Evidently, she'd been practicing. "The enjoining spell is cursed. Every time someone casts it, something goes horribly wrong."
"Huh," Faith repeated, eyes narrowing. "And you didn't mention this earlier, because?"
Anya rolled her eyes. "Giles and Willow are all like, 'Oh, that's just an old superstition. Let's ignore the warnings of the socially awkward ex-vengeance demon. It's not like she has a thousand years of experience with magic or anything.'"
Faith coughed. The subject was clearly a touchy one. "I'll, uh, just go see if B is okay." The spell locking the door had vanished, and after stepping into the hallway and finding it empty, she looked back on the rest of the Scoobies still doing their weird shaking routine in the circle. "Keep an eye on them, will you?"
Anya sighed again.
…
Faith bolted into the main hall, dashing around twisted metal, trees, and a dust strewn floor to find Buffy more or less where they'd left her, standing over Adam's overdone corpse, amidst a field of grass and flowers. There was a gaping hole in the demon's chest, and his uranium core was nowhere to be seen, but hey, he was dead, and that was more than enough for Faith.
It took a moment for her to realize that the dissection area was actually beneath them now, buried under several feet of dirt. She hoped the rest of this place would soon join it.
Moving to touch the woman's shoulder, Faith immediately thought better of it. "B?" she asked, stepping carefully around her until they were face to face. Buffy's still glowing eyes were focused somewhere else; probably a million miles away, or a million years in the past for all she knew. Faith settled for waving a hand in front of her. "Uh, B? You in there?"
Buffy's magically glowing eyes suddenly blinked, which was at least vaguely reassuring, but Faith nearly had a heart attack when a slender hand reached out and brushed her cheek, before gently running through her hair. Dumbstruck, her mouth fell open. Only in Faith's wildest dreams did Buffy ever look at and touch her like that.
A warm magical energy left tingles wherever they touched, leaving Faith short of breath, and her heart pounding in her chest.
"Inanna," B said softly. It sounded like it might be a name, or maybe a greeting. Faith blinked. She didn't understand.
Buffy only smiled. Her expression was soft and gentle, like the light breeze still inexplicably flowing through her golden hair, and like her glowing eyes, still shining with affection. This wasn't the Buffy she knew. When the woman spoke, her voice still held that ethereal quality, but though Faith recognized the language, she found she could no longer understand a single word of it. "Kidari. Dari agal, dari kigmeyen."
It was all Greek to her, but the way she said it… Faith would've been happy to have Buffy speak to her like that for the rest of her life.
That hand rested softly of her shoulder now, briefly playing with the ends of Faith's hair, before tracing its way down her chest and grasping the pendant hanging around her neck. As though it were made of chalk, Buffy gently crushed it in her hand until it turned to dust just as easily as Adam's army had. Always, her eyes were locked on Faith's. "He enzu, me endeyen lusir." Faith could only stare back at her, mouth wordlessly opening and closing like a total dork, before the light in Buffy's eyes suddenly went out.
When she fainted, Faith didn't even think twice, easily catching her before she hit the ground. There was no shock, and blue light no longer shone from Buffy's necklace. In that same instant, the light from overhead went out, leaving the two in near darkness.
"B, you okay?" The woman remained lifeless in her arms for what felt like an eternity. Remembering Anya's warning about the spell, Faith tried shaking her a little, but was relieved to see she was still breathing. Finally, when Faith was just about to pick the woman up and carry her back to Giles, the slayer's eyes blinked slowly open. "Buffy?"
Her breathy voice still had that sense of wonder in it, "That was…"
Faith found herself smiling. "Yeah, it definitely was." It was a million different things at once.
Seeming to finally realize where she was, Buffy quickly pulled away. "What happened to your –," she gestured at the broken chain dangling around Faith's neck.
"You don't remember?" Faith asked, her expression falling. "You said something in… uh, whatever that language was, then you made it go poof in your hands."
Buffy's brow furrowed. "I remember…" She rubbed her temple, "Ugh, my head hurts."
Faith tried not to let her frustration show, but anything else Buffy might've said was interrupted when the giant bay doors drew noisily open. In seconds, an army of soldiers - the less scary, human kind - flooded in. Both slayers tensed, but the men and women hardly seemed to notice them as they fanned out to secure the area.
They both let out a long sigh.
A familiar face with her long hair in a ponytail brushed purposefully by them, surprisingly unaffected by the dense foliage she had to step through to do it. The soldier grinned at Faith, leaning in and adding, "I knew you weren't any damned secretary," before dashing off. Despite her lingering disappointment, Faith chuckled, and surprisingly Buffy did too.
…
The gang had done their job too well. She still felt totally amped, but now there weren't any more demons for Faith to stab or preform crazy forbidden magics on.
It was a shame, really.
Buffy and Willow were on their way to the hospital to tell Riley the good news, leaving Faith with little choice but to catch a ride in the back of an army truck with Giles and Tara. She had no idea where Anya had run off to. From what she'd heard, the army commander had taken her request for monetary compensation for helping to stop Adam rather poorly.
It would've be a good time to hit the Bronze if it wasn't still mid-afternoon, and the city hadn't been on lockdown, and the power wasn't still out. Besides, Giles would've probably taken a dim view on the idea. Partially reformed or not, Faith was kind of supposed to be in prison right now.
So she sat gloomily on a bench at the rear of the truck as it rumbled slowly past army checkpoints on its way through town. Already, Sunnydale's citizens were milling about, as oblivious as ever to their recent brush with annihilation.
She didn't hear Giles calling her name until he was practically yelling it.
"Hmm?" she mumbled, eyes darting to his.
He seemed mildly concerned for some reason. "Are you all right?"
Shrugging, her attention returned to the road behind them.
"What happened to your necklace?" Tara asked.
Faith looked down at her chest; the chain had fallen off at some point. Only now did it occur to her that she was free. She could jump off this truck and no one would ever catch her.
The vehicle shook and squealed as it went over a bump, but Faith only held onto the bench more tightly. "Buffy, uh, sorta went like this," she said, making a grabbing motion with her free hand, "and then it went poof."
Giles' eyes widened. Yeah, she sucked at explaining things, but it was good to know he found it all at least half as weird as she did. "I woke up before you guys, and she was still all," she paused, "you know, magic-y."
"I don't remember that. Do you?" he asked Tara.
The witch shook her head.
Faith shrugged again. Their reactions didn't exactly fill her with confidence. "She also said some stuff I didn't understand, in whatever-that-shit was we were speaking during the ritual."
"Sumerian."
"Yeah, whatever," she added with the faintest of smiles at his irritated look. She'd forgotten how fun it could be to rile the old man up once in a while.
"Do you recall her exact words?"
'He enzu, me endeyen lusir.' It was practically etched in her mind. She couldn't remember the stuff she'd said earlier though. Had she known there'd be a quiz later, Faith would've brought a pen and asked B to jot it all down. Still, she repeated the words as best she could, but sure that the blank look Giles was giving her had something to do with her horribly butchering the pronunciation, she added, "Or, you know, something like that. And then, like I said, poof… no more magical leash."
The watcher blinked. "Interesting…"
Now her eyes were pinned to his. "Come on, G. Spill."
"Well," he began, coughing nervously and looking away. "A rough translation would be, 'There is no need. We are already bound together.'"
Faith felt her throat go dry. "And what's that supposed to mean?"
"It may have something to do with your slayer bond," he suggested. "You two are bound together in that respect."
Her answering nod was dubious to say the least. She'd only been wearing the damn necklace because Buffy didn't trust her. The slayer bond clearly meant nothing as far as trust was concerned. Their entire relationship was a testament to that fact.
Tara said nothing, staring at the floor in deep concentration. "B said she didn't remember," Faith added with a sigh. Maybe the spell really had fucked with her memory, or maybe Buffy was in denial, or maybe Faith's life had just been a big shit-sandwich up to that point anyway so why wouldn't Buffy forget the single most powerful moment they'd ever shared.
Faith crossed her arms and grumbled to herself. She shouldn't have expected Buffy to remember, that was just how things worked in her life, but when she thought about sharing her consciousness with everyone... Her brow furrowed in thought. It was true, those memories were already getting fuzzy. In fact, everything was fuzzy until she awoke from the spell and went running after Buffy. If she lived for a thousand years, she'd never forget the way Buffy had looked at her then. That she remembered perfectly. She always would.
Fucking magic.
"Faith."
The name hung heavily in the air until she finally met Giles' eyes again. He smiled as if reading her mind, and nodded at the open flap at the rear of the truck. They were rolling past City Hall now, and Sunnydale residents and soldiers were staring back at them, looking a little like cows in a field eyeing a passing car.
"I know it doesn't seem like much, but do you see all those people out there? They have a chance to go home tonight and see their friends and families because of what you did today. You should think about that."
She looked away. It was so easy to fuck up - people wait with bated breath to see you fail at shit - but doing the right thing, that was something you could spend your entire life doing and no one might ever notice. Only a handful of people would ever have any idea what had just happened under the college campus today. As for the rest? Faith would remain the cleavage-y slut-bomb they all thought she was when she first rolled into town.
Fuck. Forget cigs, she needed a drink.
"Every day you're alive is an opportunity, Faith. Treat it that way."
Faith shook her head, unable to look at anything but her hands. If Giles could've seen the look in Xander's eyes when these hands were wrapped around his neck, would he still be saying that shit? There had to be a line somewhere – a point where you just gave up on a person because what they had done was just too horrible to forgive. Surely Faith had already crossed that line by a mile.
She tried to smile anyway. "Thanks, G."
"And you're sure you're okay?" she asked into the receiver.
It was so weird to hear Faith's voice speaking back to her with Xander's intonation and vocabulary, "Yeah, it's been a real bowl of laughs around here. This one girl got stabbed by her cellmate the night I got magic'd into my cell. Apparently, they were both dating this other girl, Cara." There was a brief pause before he whispered into the receiver, "I think she's just using them both, if you ask me."
"Xander?"
"Sorry."
Buffy giggled for a moment, but quickly felt immensely guilty about it. Here she was in her nice comfortable house – well, her mom's nice comfortable house - while Xander was languishing in prison. The enjoining spell had her so wound up, she felt like she could take on Adam's legions all over again, single-handedly this time, but Giles had absolutely insisted on no more magic until tomorrow. Something about blah blah blah, magical energies or something - she hadn't really been paying attention. So, unfortunately Xander had to wait one more day. "But everyone's been leaving you alone?"
"Yeah, for the most part," her friend replied. "I just tried to look, well, like Faith on a bad day, you know? All moody and surly, and everyone stayed away for some reason."
"Well, um, that's good." Even sans slayer powers, Faith looked like she could throw someone across a room when she was wearing her angry face, so that checked out. And honestly, it was a good thing Xander was in disguise. Buffy doubted he could look even remotely threatening while wearing his normal Xander face. "Wait," she added after a moment's thought. "Stayed away? Did something happen?"
Xander was quick to assuage her fears. "Oh, no, nothing bad. The guards took me out of my cell a couple of hours ago and stuck me in a room. Then some guy in a doctor's coat showed up, took my pulse, and said I should be quarantined for the next two days. Then he winked at me. Now I'm in this cell in the hospital wing. There's a curtain, and a TV, and everything!"
Buffy smiled. One of Angel's associates must've been responsible for that. Maybe Giles had asked him? "Why didn't you mention that first?"
He gave an awkward cough. "Well, I was enjoying the whole 'I feel really sorry for Xander and what I've be putting him through lately' thing you had going on. Gotta savor it while it lasts, you know?"
She was smiling broadly now. "Well, I am really sorry. I hope I mentioned that."
"You did," he said with a chuckle.
"So, you'll really be okay until tomorrow?"
"I think so, as long as the food doesn't kill me first."
She sighed. There was item number eight-thousand and two for the 'Things Buffy Should Feel Incredibly Guilty About' list. "When this is all over, I'll take you out for pizza as often as you want."
"Throw in a few rounds of miniature golf and you've got yourself a deal."
…
Willow and Tara were waiting in the living room, sitting on the couch together, but at a discreet distance. Buffy had no idea how her mom would take the idea of the two of them being together together. Probably better than she took finding out her daughter was the chosen one, to be honest, but still, she'd leave it up to Willow and Tara to decide if and when they wanted to drop that bit of news.
"What did you tell her to get?" Willow asked as Buffy dropped into the overstuffed chair.
"Something appropriate for all of us."
Her eyes widened considerably. "You're going to trust Anya with that much responsibility?"
Buffy grimaced. It did sound kind of stupid in retrospect, but she hadn't exactly been thinking clearly at the time, or all day, to tell the truth. Sharing a body with the essence of the First Slayer could do that to a person. "I… just wanted her to feel like part of the group," she offered meekly.
Willow frowned and shared a look with Tara, finally nodding in some kind of silent witchy understanding. "Or maybe the enjoining spell destroyed your ability to make rational decisions?" she added, smiling.
As the three women laughed, it suddenly struck Buffy that things were finally back to normal… or normal for her at least. Here they were, sharing a night together watching movies, just like their high-school days, only minus Xander and plus Tara, of course. Faintly, she shook her head. High-school was definitely not something she should be longing to return to. Almost everything had changed since those days, and she'd learned a lot about her friends, and herself. "Can I ask, what was it like being inside my head?"
Willow tilted her head at the question and thought it over for a moment. "It was intense." The two witches shared another long look, like the fact that it was 'intense' was some kind of ancient spiritual truth. "I bet it was even more so for you."
Buffy wondered about that. "I could sense every one of you. It was… amazing." The word felt grossly inadequate. For Buffy, slaying had always been a lonely calling. Nothing more effectively nurtured one's feelings of isolation than spending every night stalking through cemeteries by yourself. But this way of fighting, sharing the thoughts of sensations of so many others - all driven towards a common goal – that was a profound experience; it was something she hoped she'd never forget, something she hoped she could experience again one day.
Never in her life had she felt more surrounded by friends. It was like she truly could accomplish anything.
She'd sensed their every thought, and unbelievably there had no lingering resentment from how she had treated them the past few months. She had truly been forgiven. All she felt was love… from everyone. "Faith was there too," she added quietly, noting with discomfort the way the whole house seemed to go silent the instant she said the name.
Both witches gave her a look like they desperately wanted her to go on and Buffy narrowed her eyes at them suspiciously. Even in the dimly lit room, her slayer sight didn't miss the subtle blush on Tara's cheeks.
Anya chose that moment to open the door.
"Ah, and how went the search?" Giles asked, returning from the kitchen with a bowl in popcorn in hand.
"Perfectly well," she replied, dropping several plastic bags of piping hot Chinese food onto the coffee table. "I didn't even need to break into the video store, it was open and everything!"
"Oh, excellent," Giles said, holding his tongue admirably. Anya handed him a brown paper bag. "Let's see." As he went through the collection, the slight frown he tended to wear in Anya's proximity became more and more pronounced. "Well, I can see I'm in for a long evening." He quickly passed the bag to Buffy.
Buffy pulled out the first movie to hand. A goofy looking vampire in a too-tight shirt loomed over a woman with prominently displayed breasts. "Vampire Cop," she read out loud, her voice wavering when she got to the tag line, "He takes a bite out of crime." Her expression went through about half a dozen emotions, none of which were very complementary. "This sounds," she looked up to find Anya staring at her expectantly, "interesting?"
Thankfully, Anya actually smiled and nodded. Apparently, her few months at Sunnydale High hadn't taught her that 'interesting' usually meant 'bad.'
She looked down again at the cover and groaned silently. Was there such a thing as Z-grade cinema? "Why?" It was a long awkward moment before she realized that she should probably add something to that statement. "Why did you rent this, exactly?"
"You told me to get something for everyone."
"Uh huh. And this is for…?"
"You, of course."
She frowned. She didn't even really like vampire movies to be honest, even the supposedly good ones. They were either horribly unrealistic, or they reminded her too much of Angel, or both. "Huh."
"You like vampires, or at least, you slept with one, and you're sort of like a cop."
Buffy shut her eyes. Somewhere in her four years under Giles' training, he'd probably taught her loads of techniques to keep herself calm during stressful situations. Unfortunately, none of those techniques were coming to mind just now, so she went with her usual coping mechanism: avoidance. Perhaps she didn't quite manage pleased, but hopefully her expression at least came off as neutral. "So," she drawled, "what did you get for Tara and Willow?"
The two witches looked horribly betrayed by the question. Anya took the bag and, after some fishing around, pulled out another movie and handed it to Buffy.
A woman with blood running down her neck lay in the embrace of a female vampire. And there were those prominently displayed breasts again. She was detecting a theme. "Witchcraft X." It looked sort of, well, gay, she supposed, but it was that gross kind of gay where you knew that every part of the production had been handled by greasy straight guys.
Feeling strangely dirty, Buffy passed it to Willow, who made a decidedly displeased noise as she read the back cover. "You couldn't have gotten Hocus Pocus or something?" she asked.
"I hesitate to ask what movie you thought most appropriate for me," Giles said.
Anya pointed to the box in Willow's hand and he actually rolled his eyes. "It takes place in London," she added.
Willow pointed to the image of Big Ben on the back of the box; it was partially obscured by a woman's spandexed behind. Buffy didn't think it would be possible for anyone to appear less pleased than Willow, but she knew that beneath his stoic Britishness, Giles was screaming internally. All that came out was a short, "I… see."
Faith poked her head around the corner, wearing one of Buffy's oversized night shirts, and her hair damp from the shower. "Hey. Do I smell food?"
It was a rare moment these days when Faith's entrance could make a situation less awkward, but of course Anya had super awkward-making powers which could not be contained. She nodded, before quickly gathering up the plastic bags and hiding them behind her back. "You can have some, provided you promise never to sleep with my Xander again."
Faith cringed along with everyone else, but she rolled with it. "I'd be a fool not to take that deal." After being granted permission to rifle through the various boxes, she piled up a tall mound of beef, chicken, and rice on a plate, and then quietly made her excuses.
"Wait!" Buffy called out. "Faith, you can stay… and, um, watch a movie with us."
The wide-eyed look of terror on the woman's face would've been pretty funny under normal circumstances, but Buffy was too busy girding herself for Willow's reaction.
She was in no way prepared when Willow simply nodded, and made space between Tara and herself on the couch.
Tara smiled knowingly as Faith stood there in shock for a moment before awkwardly trying to make herself comfortable next to the woman she'd held a knife to last year. At least it was a very large couch. Willow had already turned her attention to dinner.
A moment later, her mom entered from the kitchen. Buffy stared sharply at Anya, who as always appeared completely oblivious, and said a silent prayer that the women would not mention sex in her mother's presence, or anything at all for that matter.
"You're all still up?" Joyce asked. "I thought you guys would be exhausted."
"Still feel a bit too wired," Giles replied, evidently content with his bowl of popcorn as a substitute for dinner.
Willow nodded in agreement as she stirred her carton of rice with a fork, doing a remarkable job of looking like sitting next to Faith wasn't bothering her in the slightest. "That spell, it was powerful."
Tara nodded as well, hiding behind her hair again, while Faith stuffed her face. She ate just as ravenously as ever, perhaps even more so. At least her mom seemed amused by it.
"I don't think I could sleep," Buffy added as she filled a plate of her own.
After Joyce bid them a good evening and went upstairs, Anya left to use the bathroom, and everyone let out a collective, but quiet, sigh.
Buffy considered running up to her old room. Most of her childhood VHS tapes were probably still up there in boxes, and let's be honest, The Goonies was Oscar-worthy compared to anything Anya had brought with her. But no. 'Treat Anya like part of the gang.' She was really going to need to get that tattooed on her hand or something.
"What's up?" Faith asked, looking at her curiously. Though with a mouthful of food it sounded more like, 'Mwuts zuf?'
"Anya rented some," she struggled for the right word, "unique movies."
Tara passed the bag to her.
"Huh," Faith said after about thirty seconds. Whatever else she was about to add died on her lips when Anya returned. Instead, she simply shrugged. "Pull one at random?"
Tara and Willow nodded, while Anya looked curious and Giles looked as though he was about to meet the executioner's axe.
It came as no surprise when Faith pulled out another movie that looked like it wasn't going to win any awards.
She cleared her throat. "Discover a world where the only law was lust," Faith read aloud, grinning on the final word. She passed the movie to Willow, who passed it on to Buffy without even looking at it.
"Right," she drawled, studying the cover, which consisted solely of a shot of Raquel Welch in a furry bikini. One Million Years B.C. Judging by the stills on the back, the story involved cavemen fighting claymation dinosaurs. Clearly, they weren't going for historical accuracy. She flipped the tape around again. Plus, she doubted they had push-up bras one-million years ago. "This is for Xander, isn't it?"
Anya nodded. "I have noticed that Xander enjoys looking at women in bikinis." It was a testament to her coping skills that Buffy didn't even flinch that time. She could easily think of one reason why Xander would want to see this; well, two reasons, if you wanted to be technical about it.
Judging by her gritted teeth, it looked as though the act of simply holding her tongue was taking a heroic amount of effort for Faith. Buffy knew the feeling. "Well, uh, if you were saving this for Xander…"
Faith was busy going through the rest of the bag's contents. There were more tapes in there, and Buffy hoped to God that whatever bizarre back-alley video store Anya had gone to didn't have a pornography section.
"Uh, I don't know about you guys, but I've had enough vampires and witches for one day." Faith looked up in horror and added a hasty, "No offense."
Giles shook his head and smiled.
When Faith finished her search, she met Buffy's eyes and ever so subtly shook her head. Sadly, Buffy was in fact holding the best movie Anya had brought. "It's got dinosaurs in it," she offered. 'But Jurassic Park it ain't,' Faith was saying with her eyes.
The Land Before Time was probably still up in her room too, now that Buffy thought about it, but she might not make it through the death of Littlefoot's mom without crying, so, yeah, damn. There was nothing else for it. Well, she told herself, perhaps it would be better than it looked, not that that would be a particularly difficult feat. And admittedly, if Xander were here, he probably would've rented Full Metal Jacket again, or something equally inappropriate for an apocalypse-averting celebration. Steeling herself, she relented, pushing herself off the chair.
Pleased, Anya made a comfortable chair on the floor out of pillows while everyone else settled into their seats.
Under the glow of the TV screen, Buffy munched on a fortune cookie as the picture began. The opening was weird, in that sort of way that a lot of old movies from before she was born were weird; all weird lights, weird music, and weirder sound effects. It reminded her of seeing 2001 in film class, or at least, the parts she vaguely remembered between falling in and out of consciousness.
Smoke rolled across the screen, volcanoes exploded to life, and storm clouds opened up.
In the back of her mind, Buffy had a vision of the wind rushing through her hair, the rain running down her skin, and world constantly changing around her. Somehow, it felt like home.
It awoke something in the depths of her memory, something primal, not unlike what she'd experienced during the ritual. The spell had brought with it so many sights, sounds, and smells that felt like her own memories, but couldn't possibly have been, always flittering by on the periphery of her mind. A waking slayer dream.
Normally, after a dream like that she'd mention what she'd seen to Giles, on the off chance that the dream had been prophetic somehow, but she tended to get distracted about thirty seconds into his string of follow up questions.
Her brow furrowed as she thought about this, slumping against the arm of the chair. There was so much to being a slayer that she hadn't really made an effort to understand; so much history, so many past slayers who had witnessed so much. If she tried to learn about them, wouldn't that make her a better one? If she were stronger, more skilled, more intelligent, she could better protect her friends and family. Maybe she'd ask Giles about that tomorrow. He'd likely faint right on the spot; Buffy wanted to train and study? It brought a grimace to her lips. Or worse, he'd break out into an impromptu lecture on slayer history right then and there.
Okay, maybe she'd wait until after finals.
Buffy found herself drifting off to the narrator's words. "A young world, a world early in the morning of time. A hard, unfriendly world -" She imagined herself on top of a mountain, overlooking a coastline far below. The stars had come out, and she could sense not only demons lurking in the nearby caves, but also the birds in the sky, the predators in the bush, even a small camp of people hidden far beneath the canopy. It struck her as a strange thought, sensing humans like she could sense vampires. Maybe it was her brain's way of telling her she needed to study for her anthropology final.
"Creatures who sit and wait. Creatures who must kill to live."
Shivering under her blanket, Buffy felt an inexplicable chill at her back. As she groggily wrapped herself up more tightly, there came the faint sensation of a hand resting on her shoulder. Its warmth gave her comfort, and she let out a deep, contented breath.
"And man, superior to the creatures only in his cunning."
She barely even registered the shouts and the change in music when the long awaited cavemen finally appeared on screen. In her hazy thoughts, she was turning to the person standing beside her, but in all the gloom Buffy could only make out the outline of the long hair framing the person's face, tousled by the wind. Two faint yellow lights were reflected in their dark eyes.
She didn't even make it through the rest of the narration before falling asleep.
AN – :O 10,000 words! Anyway, if you've ever seen The Shawshank Redemption, then you've seen the movie poster for One Million Years B.C. It's one of the posters Andy Dufresne uses to hide his escape tunnel from the guards.
Anyway, you probably have at least a vague idea of what happens next, though exactly what transpires will be a bit different and hopefully not as confusing as "Restless" was ^^