A/N: Special thanks to Ivy for the medical advice :)
Buffy stared at Giles in disbelief. "What? How can it not be part of the Aspect?" Panic coursed through her before a thought calmed her. "Oh. So, maybe it's part of the Slayer bond thingie."
"Well, I suppose that could explain it," the ex-Watcher announced slowly. "However, you've never noticed it before."
Buffy could hear his thoughts as they raced in circles, trying to find something soothing to say. "Hey, let's worry about this one later, OK? I mean, unlike the thought sensing ability, this one doesn't seem too terrible. And, Faith is the only one I can feel." Thank, God. I don't even want to imagine picking up Mom's and Giles' emotions about the night they slept together. Just listening to their thoughts is freaky enough.
The older man sat back in the chair. "Indeed. I apologize for getting sidetracked. I believe you mentioned having doubts about Faith's allegiances."
"Um, yeah, if that means I thought she might want to play for the Scoobies again." Buffy saw Giles wince at her phrasing. "I remember once, when we were talking about our not liking to do research, she felt, I don't know, kind of mad and sad at the same time. It made me think she wasn't sure if she wanted to stay with the Mayor. So I asked her if she was happy working for the Big Bad. She made her usual tough girl comment, but she was thinking if things had happened differently last year, she'd still be one of us."
Giles looked pained at Buffy's statement. "I wonder…" He took his glasses of, absently chewing on the earpiece. "As much as we might wish otherwise, I'm afraid we can't focus our attention on bringing Faith back into the fold. Although, if your instincts are correct, she might be willing to provide information on the Ascension."
"That's just it, Giles. I felt her need to be part of a family. If we hadn't been so busy treating her like a tool – a cheap tool – she would have been happy in our little messed up group. But she's with the Mayor now. He's her family. Even if she's scared of him or of what he's going to be, he's her family." The Slayer fell silent as voices surged through her. The fragile barrier holding back the waves of sound crumbled. Moaning, she grabbed her head, rocking in an attempt to alleviate the agony.
Joyce, still sitting next to her daughter, turned anguished eyes to Giles. "How long ago did Angel leave?"
Holding the knife lightly in her right hand, arm away from her body, Faith watched the demon carefully. It was easily over six feet tall, its small red eyes sunken into its face. The doorway wasn't a great place for a knife fight. The Slayer began a slow, sliding movement to her left, trying to get into the crypt's antechamber. Adrenaline surged, sharpening her Slayer senses. Gaining a little space, Faith went on the offensive. Feinting left, she brought her right leg in, sweeping low. The demon anticipated the move, though, lightly jumping over the leg sweep. Landing on the ground, it leveled a blow at the Slayer with frightening speed. Faith felt bones crunch when it made contact and her grunt echoed in the stone chamber.
Bending over the blow to lessen some of the impact, the brunette grasped the offending fist and dropped backward. Her feet came up, catching the demon in the stomach, tossing it into the wall behind her. When its body made contact, the wall cracked, stone chips and dust wafting into the air. Faith ignored the shooting pain from each breath and movement. Tossing the knife into her other hand, she moved toward the groggy demon. Grabbing it by the throat with her free hand, she picked it up and pressed it against the wall. The Mayor's knife slid easily into the captive's neck, a thin line of white ichor oozed from the shallow cut. Silently congratulating herself on having the foresight to wear gloves, Faith applied more pressure to the blade. It sank deeper, the trickle increasing to a steady stream.
Poised for the kill, the Slayer paused. An image of Buffy in her apartment blocked her sight of the demon.
Hands linked together, Faith pressed into the smaller, blonde girl. She could smell the vanilla body wash and shampoo the other Slayer had used that morning. Buffy's hazel eyes looked at her, at the press of their bodies, but she didn't move away. Instead, she said, "I'm offering you a spot on the winning team. Good friends. More chances to slay together. This is a chance to do what we were born to do, Faith. Slay demons, protect people from the Bad Guys."
The knife moved a fraction from the demon's throat, the hand holding the blade shaking ever so slightly. Fuck. What the hell am I thinking? The Mayor wants this thing's heart. Just need to close the deal here if B'll get outta my head. Gritting her teeth against the fiery pain from her broken ribs, Faith tightened her grip on the demon's neck, tilting the head back farther. Banishing the memory of Buffy's visit from her thoughts, she slashed the sharp blade through the white flesh.
Staggering under the dead weight, the Slayer dragged the carcass into the middle of the room. Time for a little organ donation, pal, she thought. Pressing the tip of the blade against the demon's chest, she drew it expertly down the middle of its body. She began a second cut, but stopped abruptly. Her Slayer senses pinpointed a vampire entering the crypt. Easing away from the body with slow deliberate movements, Faith shifted her grip on the knife.
"It wasn't a very exciting fight, Faith. I missed all those little quips of yours and the flashy moves. What's the matter, losing your love for the job?" The unexpectedly familiar voice taunted from behind her.
"Fuck you, Angel. Still doing the Scooby's dirty work?" She turned slightly so she could see the tall vampire. "I hate to break it to you, but you're too late to save your girlfriend. The demon's mine."
Angel glided into the room. "Seems to me, you haven't gotten the prize yet. Why don't you go tell your Boss you lost the fight. I'll take the heart back to Buffy, and nobody has to know you aren't the bad ass you pretend to be."
Faith snarled at the final comment. "What is it with you, Soul Boy? Think just because you feel the need for redemption the rest of us have to fall in line, too? It's not going to happen, got it?" She stood watching for any sign he was going to attack.
It didn't seem Angel was interested in fighting. He put his hands in the pockets of his leather coat and simply watched the angry teen. "Still afraid to do what's right? Or is it admitting you made a mistake that keeps you on the wrong side of the fight?"
The question jarred the Slayer. Buffy's visit had planted a tiny seed of doubt in her mind and heart over her allegiance with the Mayor. Now, Angel threatened to water the seedling that had already begun to sprout. The two centuries-old demon smiled slightly, noticing the delay in Faith's answer. "Come on, Faith. Drop the act. You may hate Buffy; although, I doubt that. But hate is a long way from being a murderer. Give me the heart. Without it, Buffy will die."
The Dark Slayer stepped away from the demon's body. He was getting to her, just as he had in the Manor after Allan Finch's death. "Nice try, Angel. You must have missed the memo, though. I'm already a murderer."
"Finch was an accident. You know; I know it; Buffy knows it." The vampire tilted his head, considering the teen before him. "Stop clinging to the image of the Mayor as a surrogate father, and do the right thing." Angel knew he'd miscalculated with the last statement. Faith's eyes went cold and the trademark smirk appeared.
"Almost had me, there. Guess I just don't learn, huh?" the whisky-rough voice purred seductively. "So, Big A, what are you going to do to stop me from taking this heart and leaving sweet Buffy to her fate?"
Anger overrode the knowledge that the young girl was pushing his buttons. Vamping out, he charged the Slayer. Faith sidestepped the rush, but just barely. Pivoting, she brought the knife down, but the thick leather of the vampire's coat deflected the blow. The two faced each other across the dead demon. The time for talk was over. In silent agreement, Slayer and vampire moved away from the body and began to circle, each waiting for an opening. The younger brunette knew she had to end the fight quickly. The ribs broken early on against the demon burned with every breath and limited her movement. Counting on greater size and strength, Angel moved in with a quick right. As the teen dodged, he followed with a series of kicks and punches, driving her across the room.
For her part, the Slayer worked to avoid, rather than block, the powerful blows. She slipped past a hard right hook, dancing inside the vampire's defenses. A sharp, hard punch doubled Angel over and Faith was waiting with a raised knee. A satisfying liquid crunch indicated a broken nose. Shoving hard, the teen threw the large vampire across the spacious crypt. He landed hard but rolled to his feet. The blood spewing from his nose brought the girl up short.
"Faith, no!" She heard Buffy's voice just as the stake entered the vampire's chest. Oddly, there was no dust, just warm, sticky liquid staining her hands. A closer look revealed her hands were covered in blood.
Faith's sudden lack of motion startled the bleeding vampire, but didn't stop him from lashing out with a booted foot. He connected with already broken ribs, and the Slayer dropped to the floor, gasping. He left her there, not concerned with finishing the fight permanently. Instead, Angel pulled a slim poniard from a wrist sheath and headed for the prone demon. Finding the incision Faith had begun, the vampire quickly finished the job. Dropping the poniard onto the stone floor, he used both hands to wrench open the demon's chest cavity. Sparing a glance for the teen, Angel noticed she had regained her footing; although, she was swaying badly. Holding one hand to her damaged ribs, the Slayer still seemed determined to keep him from taking the heart. Whatever the girl thought, Angel knew she posed no threat in her current condition. Dismissing her, he turned back to his task. Reaching into the demon's chest, he grasped the still heart in his hand and sliced through the blood vessels and muscles holding the organ in place. With prize literally in hand, Angel brushed past the injured Slayer, running for the Summers' home.
Giles and Joyce stood in the hallway, peering in at Buffy. The blonde girl tossed and turned, begging in broken moans for the thoughts to cease.
"I can't stand this. I keep wondering if I'm hurting her with my thoughts," Joyce said, glancing back at the ex-Watcher.
The Englishman stood just behind the older Summers, head lowered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "You're not," he answered. "She can't pick one thought out of the…" He hesitated, searching for words. "Out of the din," he finished. He was about to go on, when a frantic knock sounded at the door. Both adults rushed down the stairs.
The Scooby gang waited at the bottom, looking for some signal that it was OK to let visitor in. Not bothering to say anything, Giles brushed past Willow and Oz, wrenching open the door. Angel stumbled in, hands filled with the demon's heart. Xander made a choking sound and rushed from the room at the gruesome sight. "I've got it," the vampire said unnecessarily.
Motioning the demon into the dining room, Giles and Willow gathered supplies. Mixing ingredients in a shallow wooden bowl, the older man held his creation out to the young witch. The redhead chanted and waved her hands over the offering. A brief flash of light exploded from the bowl followed by billowing smoke. "OK, Angel, carve the heart into pieces," the ex-Watcher ordered. As the vampire began his grisly task, Giles dumped the contents of the still smoldering bowl into a beaker containing a thick blue liquid. Swirling the contents, he waited impatiently for Angel.
Scooping up the heart pieces, the vampire dropped them into the beaker. As soon as the organ fragments hit the liquid, the blue darkened and light glittered the fluid. After several seconds, the volatile mixture seemed to stabilize. "That's it," Giles announced. He raced up the stairs with the rest of the gang trailing behind. Once inside Buffy's room, Joyce sat on the bed, pulling her daughter into a semi-seated position. The older man forced the beaker to the twitching girl's mouth, liquid trickling over her lips and down her chin. Some must have gotten passed the closed lips, though, because the Slayer coughed and choked. More liquid rushed into her open mouth. The beaker swiftly emptied and the young girl stopped fighting Joyce's hold. Hazel eyes scanned the room before slowly closing again. Buffy's breathing evened out as she dropped into sleep.
Faith staggered through downtown Sunnydale. The fight with Angel had ended hours ago, but the Slayer was just now getting close to home. Her ribs needed professional attention, but the teen continued in the opposite direction from Sunnydale General. She crossed Main Street in the middle of block, focused so intently on reaching her apartment that she missed the tingling of her Slayer senses. Cold, inhuman eyes watched her slow progress. Speaking into a cell phone, the watcher said, "Yeah, she's back – empty handed."