Wearing Masks (Part 8)

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) and Buffy (in Faith's) have just been arrested for the murder of Tara Maclay: and the detective arresting them is actually the Mayor.

It takes almost ten minutes for the cops to drag us out to the cars. They search the place to make sure no-one else is around, read us our rights, crap like that. Through most of it, I'm numb. I'd let myself forget about Tara's body; never considered the implications. Not the Mayor, though, he's kept his eye on the ball. Now he has us both, and thanks to my track record, we're probably both going to be locked up 'til we're forty. No wonder he's looking smug. There'll be no Slayer around to spoil his next big scheme.

"Don't sweat it, Faith." B flinches when I call her by my name. "I'll keep you warm on the cold prison nights." I know baiting her is stupid, but it's how I deal.

B scowls, but doesn't answer. Guess as far as she's concerned, this is just another fine mess I've got her into.

"Let's get these young ladies to the car." The Mayor nods to the two cops watching us, and they drag us to our feet.

"Hey! Watch the hands, creep!" Buffy yelps. I can't help but smirk. What does she expect, when she's wearin' one of those short skirts she digs so much? And in my body, too.

The cops haul us outside. I don't bother to struggle. B's body weighs maybe a hundred pounds, and that's with boots on. The gorilla who has hold of my arm is over twice that.

Of course, he's just as intimidated by the business end of a sub-machine gun as I am, which is exactly what's waiting for us, outside.

"Back away from the girls." There are two of them, and the one on the left does the talking. Strong British accent, decked out all in black. Doesn't take an Einstein to figure that two plus guns equals 'Council'. They musta decided to turn up to B's party a little early.

"You're making a mistake." The Mayor is caught in the doorway, just behind us. He looks pissed, but he doesn't try anything. Guess this new body is vulnerable, too. Something to remember, if I live long enough for it to matter.

"Let the girls go, and back away." Left-hand guy repeats, slowly. After a nod from the Mayor, the cops do as he says, and the other Council guy steps in to prod us toward one of the cop cars. They work well together, never getting in one another's way.

"Wait . . . my friends are -" B protests, looking back at the apartment. That earns her silent guy's elbow in the face. My jaw aches in sympathy, but I keep my head down. Looks like they think she's me, at least for the moment.

"In." the Council guy speaks for the first time, shoving us into the back of the waiting car. Then he covers his buddy while he backs up to the car. They work it smoothly, one of them covering the two cops and the Mayor at all times. The second guy slides into the passenger seat only after the car is started and ready to go, and they take off at high speed, leaving the cops to fumble for their guns.

We've barely cleared the block when B pipes up again,

"We have to go back! They've got my friends!"

"Shut it." The guy in the passenger seat doesn't even bother to look back through the security grill. "We were told to pick you up, and that's all we're doing."

"Very smooth you were too, guys." I smirk. They're gonna kill me anyway, so I may as well stir 'em up while I can, "Did the Council give up that whole 'secrecy' deal they used to be so keen on? Maybe we could get buttons that say 'I slay Vampires. Ask me how.'?"

"Put a zip in it, Summers."

"I'm Summers!" B yelps, "She's . . ." her expression gets puzzled. Yeah. Never bothered to find out my surname, did ya, B? Best of friends, us. "She's Faith."

"That's me." I don't see the point of lying, "A ten-gallon gal in a pint-sized body."

"Pint-sized!" trust B to get side-tracked by that, "at least I'm in good condition, flabby!"

I shrug,

"Eight months in a hospital bed ain't so good for the muscle tone, B."

That shuts Little Miss Self-Righteous up. At least for a couple of seconds.

"Come on, guys." She whines, "We need to go back for my friends . .. ."

"I don't think you understand, Summers." The guy turns to look at us for the first time, and there's a grin on his face like a kid pulling wings off flies, "This isn't a rescue mission. This is a capture. You're both going back to England for re-education."

For a long second, B is deathly silent. Then she's screaming and thrashing in the back seat, using words I had no idea she even knew. Me, I laugh. I can't help myself.

I'm still chuckling thirty minutes later, when the first seizure slams through my body.

----------

I arch my back and scream as the pain rips through me. I'm no stranger to getting hurt. I've broken bones, been all but gutted, and fallen damn near far enough to kill anyone. But this is nothing like that. This feels like my blood itself is on fire, and every beat of my heart triggers a new wave of agony.

"Jesus!" I can hear Buffy yelling and shouting as she tries to get as far from me as possible. It's the first sounds she's made since she ran out of abuse for the Council freaks, and her voice is still raw and ragged.

"Quit it!" one of the freaks hammers on the security grill, but I'm barely aware of it. Instead, I'm concentrating on the way that the handcuffs are cutting my wrists, because that's about the least painful thing happening to me right now.

Then the second wave slams through me, and it's even worse. I could swear I black out from the pain for a few seconds. I definitely get a nosebleed: I can taste the blood as it drips down to my mouth. The pain is completely unbearable.

And then it stops.

I sag forward in the seat, gasping for breath. My whole body feels slick with sweat. Only now does the Council stooge stop hammering on the grill, giving a grunt of satisfaction. What, he thought I could fake something like that?

I don't know what just hit me, but the pain fades quickly. Much faster than it ought to, in fact. I slump backwards and breathe deeply through my mouth, since my nose is clogged with blood. Despite what just happened, I feel pretty good. Better than I should. Better than I have since the picnic on the lawn.

A few seconds later, the other shoe drops. I always was a little slow at school.

Blind luck has put me behind the driver's seat, and I take the opportunity with both hands. Or in this case, both feet.

Before anyone can react, I plant my boots against the security grill, brace myself in the seat, and thrust with both legs. The grill tears free and slams into the back of the driver's head, slamming it onto the steering wheel. The car slides out of control, smashing into a wall. Both Council guys crash headfirst into the windscreen, though their safety belts stop 'em from flying through it. In the back, I get tossed around a little, but it's nothing a slayer can't handle. B manages to land on me, which ain't entirely unpleasant. There's a thought: getting pelvic with your own body.

"Sorry." I grin into her surprised face, then rap my forehead against hers. It leaves me seeing stars, but her unconscious, which was entirely the point.

I don't know how I got my slayer powers back, but I do know how I hope it happened. And a certain red-haired witch looms large in those hopes.

I push open the door, then stagger out. With some space to move, I manage to hook my legs over my wrists, getting the handcuffs in front of me. From there, it ain't too hard to snap the chain between them. I can't lose the cuffs themselves, but this will do for a start.

Working fast, I haul the two Council guys out of the car and smash their guns. It's tempting to keep at least one, but I don't really know how to use it. Plus, I'm not a hundred percent certain if B has her powers back or not, and I wouldn't want her to grab the thing off me. One of them is carrying a stake, though, so I do take that. And about four hundred bucks from their wallets. Looks like these guys get a much better wage than us Slayers.

Despite the crumpled fender and bodywork, the car's engine coughs into life first time, and I swing it out onto the road, B's body laid out on the seat behind me. For a moment, I sit there with the nose pointing eastward, willing myself to hit the gas. I can drive for an hour and dump B: even I'm not bitch enough to leave her for the Council boys to find when they wake up.

All I have to do is drive away. Move on, the way I've spent my whole life doing. It should be getting easier, with all this practice. But it's not.

I curse and swing the car back toward Sunnydale.

----------

It takes Buffy ten minutes to wake up. Or at least, ten minutes before she sits up and glares at me. I'm pretty sure she spent the two before that trying to break out of her handcuffs.

"Still just an ordinary mortal, huh, B?"

"Screw you." B growls as I glance at her in the rear mirror, then peers at the road. "Where are you taking me?"

"Little place called Sunnydale." I play with one of my cuffs like it's a bracelet, "I gotta say the bondage look works on you, B –"

"Sunnydale?" she sounds surprised.

"You remember it." I say lightly, "Great weather, shame about the demons? Little matter of some captured friends we have to rescue?"

"We?"

"Well, me, really. Since I'm the only Slayer on deck at the moment."

"Why?" the distrust is clear in her tone, "You've got nothing to gain from going back."

I shrug.

"I want my own damn body back. Besides, the Mayor is just as pissed at me as he is at you."

As far as it goes, that's the truth. There's more to it, of course, but there's also no way in hell that I'd let B know that.

"The Mayor?" she laughs, "You're not still going on with that story you fed Willow, are you? I'm not buying it, Faith."

"Ask me if I care." I take the Sunnydale exit too fast, and wrestle the car back under control as Buffy yelps in the back seat. "You're strictly a spectator on this trip, anyway."

----------

With no better place to start, I head straight to the Sunnydale PD, parking the car in an alleyway two blocks from the station.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Buffy tries to open her door as I search the car for any extra weapons. I've used a stake on a human once. It's not something I want to repeat. There's a night-stick and a good hefty flashlight, but that's it.

"Stay put." I push the door closed just as she finally gets it open. "You'll only get in the way."

"Like hell! I've killed vampires without my powers. I can handle a bunch of cops."

"Did the vampires have guns?"

That shuts her up. But only for a moment. Then she pipes up, again.

"They're my friends. I have to try."

Screw it. It's her funeral. I can get used to this body, if I have to.

So I snap the chain on her cuffs and hand her the night-stick. She'll need it more than I will. Then we head up to the station, sticking to the shadows as we go. B keeps up okay, but she's breathing pretty hard by the time we get there.

"Damn." It only takes one look at the station for a prickle to go down my spine.

"What is it?" she peers past me, her night-vision not as good as mine. I wonder if that's an effect of the drug, or if my body just got short-changed.

"There's a body just inside the foyer." A normal human wouldn't see it unless they were within a few feet. "And there aren't enough lights on. Mayor must have called in some reinforcements."

"Not this shit about the Mayor again –"

I spin, slamming Buffy back against the wall, my stake raised high. She opens her mouth to scream, and I slap my hand over her lips. The little bitch promptly sinks her teeth into me, and I have to bite back a yelp of my own.

The two people who were creeping up behind us leap back nervously, but have the presence of mind to keep quiet. I relax, then wait until I'm sure B's seen them before I take my now bleeding hand off her mouth.

"Hi guys."

Xander nods. Willow, for some reason, is too busy staring at my hand to respond.

"Guys?" B looks confused. There's a surprise. "What's going on?"

"In a nutshell?" Xander raises an eyebrow, "The Mayor you said was dead took everyone to the Station to lock them up, then called in a bunch of vamps to keep watch. Seems he didn't feel the Sunnydale PD was up to the task. I'm really hoping someone has a plan, here."