Watching Your Back (Part 5)

Previously ...

Faith has returned to Sunnydale, apparently intent on reconciliation with Buffy and her friends. Torn between suspicion of the other girl and her reluctance to kill a someone who resolutely refused to fight back, Buffy has at last grown to trust Faith again, though the blonde's own behaviour seems to be increasingly erratic.

Meanwhile, Spike is seeking the Gem of Fey'R. If recovered, this item would prompt a flood of demons to come to Sunnydale. Aware only that the vampire has some plan afoot, the gang is attempting to discover what it is. Now, just as they have begun to make progress, a threat from Tara's past has suddenly arisen …

Chapter Thirteen

The man who called himself Hansard walked unseen through the crowds of milling shoppers. The mental discipline required to subtly steer approaching humans away from him without their ever noticing his presence helped him to focus for his upcoming task.

It had taken only a few hours to locate the renegade's home, but he had not yet made his move. It would not do to be too rash. Emotion was a dangerous influence on his mental faculties, and he must consider, plan and reflect before confronting the girl and her human lover.

Even now, the thought that one of his kind had bonded with a human caused a ripple of revulsion to run through him. But his focus held firm. It was imperative that he remain calm when he confronted the renegade. One who had defiled herself so completely would doubtless resort to any tactic to escape the prescribed punishment, and he must be careful.

Reaching the exit of Sunnydale's improbably large mall, Hansard waited patiently until a human passed close enough to activate the door's sensors, then made his way outside. His concentration had held firm throughout his passage through the crowded mall, and he had not once come close to detection. Even when he thought of the renegade, his composure remained intact.

It was time to confront her.

As he moved silently along the sidewalk, Hansard slowly began to build a pattern of defensive spells. The renegade was young, but he sensed she was powerful. Additionally, there was every chance she would resort to human magic in an attempt to thwart him. Such spells were crude, but potent. He would have to careful.

By the time he reached the house shared by the renegade and her lover, he was as prepared as he could be for the confrontation to come. Walking slowly toward the front door, he felt a moment's surprise when it opened. Has she decided to surrender?

Then he saw that it was the red-haired human in the doorway. She must be about to leave. This was unexpected good fortune. Taking the renegade would be made less complex if there were no distractions. And there was no chance that the human could know he was there.

"Come in." she said quietly, staring directly at him.

Hansard paused in surprise. How?

Then he saw the gossamer silver threads within the human's aura. The renegade. A sharing. Was there no crime to which this girl would not stoop?

Recovering his composure, he moved toward the door again. Given that the renegade had shared their heightened perceptions with her human lover, it seemed obvious that they intended to resist him. But there was no harm in accepting the invitation to enter. Unlike vampires, such words held no power over his kind.

Within, the building reeked of magic. Human Magic. It was so unlike that of his own people. So … obvious. He could literally smell it: pungent and all pervasive. Not unpleasant, as such, but impossible to ignore.

"Where is she?" he asked the human as she closed the door.

"I am here, Elder." The renegade stepped into the hallway from a neighbouring room. Her voice was soft, hesitant, warm. Human. Hansard suppressed a feeling of distaste. When he replied, his own tones were as empty and dead as always,

"You know why I am here. You have broken our most sacred laws."

The renegade nodded. Like himself, she was wreathed in spells. Unlike him, many of them used human magic. Strong indeed. The bright colours swirled around her, too numerous and vivid to easily discern.

"Do you have an explanation?" he asked. There could be no explanation, no defence. They both knew that. But the question was required. It was the way.

"I love her." The renegade answered as the redhead moved to stand beside her. The two girls joined hands almost unconsciously. Hansard realised with growing irritation that they wore matching silver rings on their left hands.

"You defend yourself against your crimes by admitting to a greater one?" even as he said the words, he realised they were a mistake. They carried an unmistakable tinge of anger.

"Be careful, Elder." The blonde smiled slightly, "Emotion is for h-humans."

Focus. He calmed himself, the process familiar, comfortable.

"You endanger us all." He stated, "It cannot be allowed."

"How are you in danger?" the redhead interceded. She spoke without any attempt to conceal her own anger; a luxury of being human. "What Tara does is her own business."

"You have no part in this." He answered coldly, "it is not your affair."

"It's more mine than yours." The human's tone was as cold as his own, "You have no right to try and control Tara."

"She is one of us." His patience was frayed, but he persevered. It would be better to avoid violence with the human if at all possible.

"I don't care if she is your long lost daughter." The redhead placed her free hand on her hip, a resolute expression on her face. "I won't let you take her."

"You should stay out of our affairs, human. As we stay out of yours."

"You stay out?" the human exclaimed, "How? You help vampires and demons to spy on us!"

"Our impact is minimal."

"People die!"

He shook his head,

"That is just change. You have a soul. You are eternal. For us, there is only oblivion."

A stricken expression came over the human's face, and she turned to look at the renegade. The blonde nodded silently.

"God." The redhead actually looked at him with sympathy, "That's horrible."

"That is why we must remain in secret." He addressed his words to them both, but his eyes were on the renegade, "If we displease the Goddess, or alert the humans to our presence, then our people will be destroyed. Will you risk that, solely for your own happiness?"

His words were having an impact, he could tell. After her time among the humans, the renegade could not longer control herself as well as she should. He could see the doubt and confusion in her eyes. Perhaps she will see reason, after all.

"There must be something else you can do." The human insisted.

"No. There is no alternative."

"There are always alternatives!" she snapped, "And we will find them."

He sighed. For a moment, he had thought he might persuade them. Without bothering to reply, he began to craft a spell to bind them.

They reacted instantly, raising their voices in a retaliatory spell, hands still clasped together. He began to realise that they were more prepared than he had expected.

Moments later, he realised that his own spell was not coalescing properly. Something seemed to be interfering with it, slowing the formation of the weave. He frowned. What could it be?

Too late, the explanation occurred to him. His spell collapsed as he turned his attention to the house around him. Sharpening his focus, he saw beyond the vivid scents and colours of the human magic to the delicate spell behind it.

But by then, the cage was closed.

"Impressive." He acknowledged, examining the now evident spell that had entrapped him. "I underestimated you, renegade."

The blonde shook her head,

"It was Willow's idea."

He glanced at the human, who gave him a smug look in return.

"I should have expected that you would share our magical skills with her." He conceded, "You have broken so many other laws, why not this as well?"

"Perhaps you should be more polite, given your circumstances." The redhead had evidently overcome her earlier sympathy for him.

"There seems little point." He observed, "You must intend to kill me, anyway."

To his surprise, they both shook their heads,

"We'd prefer to m-make a deal." The renegade answered, almost timidly.

Xander and Anya were already at Giles' apartment when the two slayers arrived. The walk over from the college had been somewhat strained, with neither of them sure what to say in the aftermath of the heated conversation with Detective Lockley.

As Buffy and Faith took seats in well-separated chairs, Giles came through from the kitchen and placed a tea tray on the low-set table.

"Ooh," Xander rubbed his hands together. "Ya gotta love a catered Scooby meet. And such an adventurous spread, too … tea … fruit cake…" he paused, "Cheese?"

"You eat it with the fruit cake." Giles explained, pouring himself a cup of tea.

Buffy wrinkled her nose,

"That has to be a English thing." She complained, "Like haggis."

"What is haggis?" Faith asked, tentatively trying a piece of fruit cake with cheese. Not bad.

"Well for one thing, it's Scottish" Giles set his tea on the table and picked up a large, leather-bound book, "Haggis is made from sheep's offal and oatmeal, and is cooked in the sheep's stomach. It's considered something of a delicacy. Rather like blood pudding." He smiled, as if in fond remembrance.

"I'd just like to take this opportunity to say 'yuck'." Buffy pulled a face.

"Yeah," Xander quipped, "Can we talk about something less disturbing? Like vampires?"

"Indeed." Giles opened the book and spread it on the table in front of him, "I spoke to Angel this afternoon. He has been looking into some information given to him by … well, he actually didn't say who told him."

Faith grinned to herself, sure she knew who had helped Angel. Way to go, Katie. I owe you.

"So what do we know?" Xander sat forward to peer at the book, "Woah. Personal hygiene alert. That is one ugly dude."

"This is Paolo Wurth." Giles tapped the photograph at which Xander had been looking, "He's a vampire, turned around 1945. Apparently Spike met with Wurth on his recent trip to Los Angeles."

Buffy stood and peered over his shoulder at the picture,

"I agree with Xander." She remarked, "What vamp in their right mind turned him?"

"It appears that his sire was Drusilla."

"Well that answers that question." Buffy dropped back into her chair, putting her feet on the table as she did so. "So who is this Wurst guy?"

"Paolo Wurth," Giles corrected, tsking in the back of his throat at Buffy's shoes, "was a Swiss black marketeer during the Second World War. He made a great deal of money selling guns to the French and Yugoslav resistance forces."

"So he was a good guy?" Faith asked, fighting the urge to copy Buffy's feet-on-table comfort, "the French were on our side, right?"

"Mr Wurth traded with anyone who could pay for his goods." Giles clarified, "he sold information and materials to the Germans, as well. He was absolutely amoral, as far as I can see."

Faith frowned. Drusilla.

"Wasn't she Spike's chick?" she blurted, "Drusilla, I mean."

"Yeah." Buffy mumbled, playing with the buttons on her coat, "At least until he helped me kill Angellus. She hasn't been seen since."

"It's just that Angel once told me that Spike always killed any vampires that Drusilla sired." Faith explained, feeling uncomfortable to realise that Angel had shared something with her that he had evidently not told Buffy.

"Spike always was the jealous type." Xander remarked, offering a piece of fruit cake to Anya. The girl shook her head, her eyes on Faith.

Speaking of jealous. The brunette suppressed an urge to smirk. Xander's got his work cut out with that one. The moment Anya looked away from her, she caught Xander's eye and silently mouthed the word "whipped". He had the decency to flush.

"Well, it seems he made an exception in this case." Giles noted, "Since he is evidently aware of Wurth's survival."

"Either that, or he has really bad eyesight." Xander grinned, "which might be an advantage when talking to this guy."

"Quite." Giles sighed. "Now, Angel wasn't able to get to Wurth himself, but he was able to locate one of Wurth's minions and…" he paused, as if looking for the right term.

"Beat the crap out of them?" Faith suggested helpfully, grabbing another piece of cake and cheese.

"Interrogate him." the Englishman gave the brunette a pained look. "It seems that Spike hired a spy of some sort –"

"Probably that invisible guy from the last meeting!" Xander exclaimed.

"Congratulations, honey." Anya gave him an affectionately scornful look, "it's good to see you're on the same page as everyone else."

There was a knock at the door, and Riley let himself inside the apartment.

"Sorry I'm late," he greeted them, "I had a class to take and couldn't get away. What have we learned?"

Buffy hopped out of her chair to kiss the sandy-haired former commando.

"Spike met a really ugly vampire in LA and hired a spy from him." She shrugged, "How ya been?"

"Good. Fully recovered." He smiled softly at her, his arms around her waist.

"So." Faith said, a little too loudly, "did Angel say anything else?"

"Yes." Giles nodded as Riley sat down in the chair Buffy had vacated. The blonde slayer swung herself into his lap, her feet dangling over the edge of the chair. "Spike also purchased the eyes of a Taladarm demon."

"Lovely." Buffy wrinkled her nose again, "The significance being?"

"Taladarm eyes are only useful in spells to locate missing objects." Giles explained, "Which means that Spike is looking for something."

"You need to soak Taladar eyes in blood, first." Anya in a conversational tone, "for about two weeks." She paused as she realised that everyone was looking at her. "What? I used to be a vengeance demon, remember? I know spell stuff."

"The attack on the dance." Faith murmured.

"What about it?" Xander asked.

"There were two students missing, right?" the brunette said, "we figured they'd been taken for turning. What if they were taken for their blood?"

"That would mean we know when Spike would be ready to go after this item." Giles mused.

"Which means we can be ready for him to make his move." Riley nodded, "when he won't expect us to be."

"Sure." Faith said with an edge of sarcasm, "Except that we don't know what he's looking for, or where he might find it."

"It'll be in a crypt." Xander said morosely, "These magic doodads always are."

"Which would be helpful, if we were anywhere but on the hellmouth." Anya shrugged, "But this is crypt central."

Faith frowned. The beginnings of an idea were beginning to form at the back of her mind.

"Spike's no fool, right?" she asked, glancing around.

"If he was, we'd be doing a much better job of kicking his ass." Xander shrugged.

"You should have staked him when he couldn't bite people." Anya glowered at Buffy. The blonde ignored her, her mind seemingly elsewhere.

"Then he's not going to risk us stumbling over him while he grabs whatever it is he's looking for." Faith rubbed her hands on her thighs as she thought things through, "Which means he'll try to lure us away with a distraction. Then, when he knows we're occupied -"

"He'll go after the doodad?" Xander gave her a surprised look, "Y'know, that actually makes a kind of sense."

"How does it help us?" Riley asked, his hand gently running up and down Buffy's arm.

"Spike's gonna have to be at the diversion." Faith explained, "so he can be sure we're properly distracted before he makes his real move. As soon as he's convinced of that, he'll bail."

"So?" Anya gave Faith a dark look.

"So he stages his diversion, and B and I go in to stop it." Faith explained, "As soon as he knows we're occupied, Spike leaves. As soon as he does, you guys, Red and blondie all pile in to the fight. Between you, you should be able to take enough vamps off B's back that she can go after Spike. We deal with the diversion while B stakes Bloody William. Problem solved."

"Why does Buffy have to go after Spike?" Riley challenged her, "are you scared?"

Faith favoured him with a scornful look,

"Nothin' I'd like more than to take on Spikey-boy." She snorted, "But I figure you guys will be more comfortable if B is the one you have to rely on, right?"

Evidently, no-one felt comfortable answering the question. Faith nodded.

"I thought so."

The phone rang suddenly. Giles answered it with an expression that looked suspiciously like relief.

"Hello? Oh, Willow. You what? Are you okay?" he paused, apparently listening. Occasionally he would nod, as if Willow could see him. "Yes, I will. Thank you. Yes, as soon as you can. And Willow? Please don't do anything like that again."

He hung up.

"What's the news?" Buffy asked, her attention apparently once more on the meeting.

"Willow and Tara have captured the spy." Giles took off his glasses and polished them, a clear indication that he was upset. "It was an extremely reckless thing for them to do."

Way to go, Red and blondie. Faith leaned forward,

"Did they learn anything from him?"

"Yes." Giles nodded, "It seems Spike is after an item known as the Gem of Fey'R. Willow and Tara are on their way over to discuss our next move. At the moment, I think that Faith's plan is our best option."

Faith's plan. The brunette grinned. I like the sound of that.

"I'm not so sure." Riley said slowly, earning a glare from the dark-haired slayer. "I mean, the basic idea seems sound, but I don't think Xander and Anya should be there. Maybe not Willow or Tara, either. They could be hurt."

"Hey!" Xander protested, "No way I'm staying on the bench for this!"

"It might be a good idea." Anya argued, "We aren't really equipped for this."

"I can look after myself." Xander maintained, "And you can help Will and Tara. After all, you know spell stuff, right?"

"I still don't think you –" Riley began.

"He can handle it." Faith snapped, earning a surprised but grateful look from Xander and a hostile one from Riley. "Fact is, we'll need everyone we can get, for this."

Giles, who had been flipping urgently through one of his books, suddenly exclaimed in excitement.

"I knew it!"

"What's up, G-man?" Faith asked the ex-Watcher.

"The Gem of Fey'R." Giles ran his finger across the open page, "It's an artefact which is sacred to the Jeneth demons. I know I've got them cross-referenced somewhere…" he began flipping through another book. "Yes! Here!"

Twisting the book around, he showed the group a charcoal drawing of a leathery-skinned demon. It had quite nondescript features. Except for the heavily seamed skin, hairless skull and somewhat feline eyes, it could probably have passed for human.

"Doesn't look like much." Faith observed, "What are they like?"

Giles span the book around in his hands and reviewed the text,

"It says here that they are organised, cultured and intelligent."

"Sounds pretty harmless, so far." Buffy remarked, "What would Spike want with them?"

"They are also ruthless, sadistic and cruel."

"Oh."

"And … oh dear." Giles abruptly fell silent.

"What?" Faith demanded, impatiently.

"They were cast out of the demonic planes over a thousand years ago for losing the Gem. It is like a Holy Grail to them. If it is found here, Jeneth demons from all over the world will converge on Sunnydale."

"We can deal with a few demons." Buffy shrugged.

"A few, yes." Giles agreed, "But this could be hundreds. Even worse, they would be willing to do almost anything Spike wanted in order to get the Gem."

"Wouldn't they just take it off him?" Faith asked, "Hell, I would."

Giles shook his head,

"The Jeneth take their debts very seriously."

"So Spike would have his own demon army." The brunette said slowly.

"In a nutshell, yes."

"But these guys aren't so tough, right?" Xander asked hopefully, "I mean, they lost the Gem in the first place…"

"In the demon orders, they are quite lowly placed." Giles conceded, "But unlike most of the other demons we've fought, they are almost untainted with mortal blood."

"So they're strong." Buffy said, apparently unconcerned.

"Very strong." The Englishman agreed quietly, "And very fast. And very resilient. Individually, the stronger among them are a match for a slayer. In groups…" he trailed off, evidently feeling that his sentence did not require completion.

Faith shrugged,

"Only one thing for it, then." She gave them her best cocky grin. "Make sure Spike doesn't get that doodad."

Buffy stood at the end of the street, scanning the road with a frustrated expression. It had been a week since they discovered Spike's plan. That meant he was likely to make his move in only a few days. In the mean time, she and Faith continued to patrol, and continued to find nothing.

"All this waiting is really beginning to tick me off." She muttered.

"Me too." Faith appeared out of the darkness, twirling a stake in her fingers, "Just a couple of blocks to go. You want to Bronze it, afterward?"

"Actually, I thought I'd do the Riley thing." Buffy glanced at the brunette, "Dancing just isn't doing it for me, any more, y'know?"

Faith shrugged as they moved on to the next street,

"I should probably get an early night, anyway." She mumbled, "Got a lot of classes tomorrow. Starting with Computers for Morons."

Buffy grinned. Faith's trepidation about her Business Computing subject had rapidly turned into scorn for the class.

"See? I said you could deal with college."

"Yeah. Well, Jesus, some of these kids seem worried the damn things will bite them."

"Whereas you never felt intimidated." the blonde observed drolly.

"So you and Riley are getting along pretty well?" Faith asked, pointedly ignoring her comment.

"Yeah." Buffy thrust her hands into her coat pockets, "He's pretty busy with classes, but we make up for it when we get together."

"More information than I needed." Faith glanced around the street, "Speaking of classes … you've been cutting a few."

"They were boring."

"B, this is only the second week of term. How would you know if they were boring yet?"

Buffy shrugged,

"I'm just really restless." She glowered at the empty street, "I wish Spike would make his move already."

"The thing about evil vampires is that they tend to make their own timetables." Faith frowned, "Which, given the scheduling of some of my classes, makes me wonder about our faculty."

Buffy favoured the joke with a distracted smile as they reached the end of the last street in their sweep.

"Well, that's it for another night." Faith slid her stake back inside her jacket, "Should I expect you back at the room late, or not at all?"

"Probably." Buffy wasn't really listening to the question. The frustration of another incident-free patrol was wearing on her nerves, and even the thought of being with Riley wasn't enough to temper her rising urge to slay something. Glancing around, she suddenly recognised the neighbourhood. Well, I've really been distracted. A smile flickered around the edge of her lips. Perhaps her problem could be solved with a little creativity.

"Look, I don't have any early classes, so I'm going to just check a couple more streets before I go to Riley's." She said to Faith, "You head back."

"You sure?"

"Yeah." She gave the brunette slayer what she hoped was a perky smile, "I shouldn't be too late tonight, 'kay?"

"Okay." Faith looked a little suspicious, but to Buffy's relief she didn't pursue it, "I'll see you when you get in."

"Yeah. Night."

"Night." The brunette turned and began to walk back to the campus.

Buffy watched the other slayer until she had disappeared into the next street, then turned and hurried two blocks eastward. Willy's Place. I should have thought of this before.

Moments later, she clattered down the stairs and into the dimly lit bar, swinging the door firmly closed behind her after she had entered. At the sound of the door shutting, Willy glanced over at her.

"Evening, Slayer." He said in a loud voice. Of the bar's four customers, two rose as if to leave. However, instead of moving to the bar, Buffy planted herself in front of the door,

"Sit down." She glared at the pair who had risen to leave. Silently, they complied.

"What's this about, Slayer?" Willy asked nervously, "I already told you I don't know anything about what Spike is up to."

"Yeah. I remember." Buffy didn't bother to look at the sweating barkeep. Instead, she took two small paces forward and raked her eyes contemptuously over the four now-anxious customers. Lower order demons. Not much challenge, but it'll do. "This is how it works. In about five seconds, I'm going to start kicking the hell out of all four of you. You've got that long to get ready. If anyone goes for the door, I'll break his legs."

For a long moment, all four stared at her as if they couldn't quite believe what she was saying. She smiled back, letting the edge of her rage show in the expression. That evidently persuaded them, because in the next instant they were up and charging her, grabbing bottles and chairs as weapons on the way.

Buffy ducked smoothly under a wild blow from the lead demon, then drove her forearm into its face. The creature fell backwards, rolled, and staggered to its feet again. The blonde had already moved on, kicking the second demon in the back of the knee. As she did, the third smashed a chair across her back, knocking her sideways over a table.

Rolling smoothly to her feet, the slayer smirked at the demons and wiped the back of her hand across her lip.

"That all you got?" The four didn't answer, and she saw that at least one was edging toward to door. "None of that, now." Buffy shook her head, "We're only just getting started."

Leaping forward, the slayer plunged once more into the melee. The rush of battle overtook her, and she whirled amidst the four, striking them with her feet, elbows, hands and knees. Their retaliatory blows seemed ineffectual, trivial. It's been too long.

And then, as suddenly as it began, the fight was over. Buffy found herself standing alone in the middle of the room, four unconscious demons sprawled on the floor. From somewhere behind the bar, she could hear Willy quivering.

"Wimps." She kicked one of the demons in disgust. It didn't even groan.

Hopping up onto the bar, Buffy grabbed a metal ashtray and dumped the contents, then examined herself in the reflective surface. Her hair was a mess, and someone had scratched her across one cheek. It was deep enough to bleed, but it wouldn't scar. Her left eye was going to shine up a beauty though, at least for an hour or so. Thank goodness for slayer healing.

"Willy?"

There was a timid moan from under the bar.

"Gimme a beer."

In the end, she had three beers, drinking straight from the bottle, her feet dangling over the bar. The first demon crawled out after about thirty minutes. By the time her eye was returning to its normal colour, the second was stirring.

"One more for the road, Willy."

Wordlessly, he passed her a fresh bottle. She hadn't offered to pay, and he was evidently too scared to ask. As he should be.

Reaching out suddenly, she grabbed Willy by the collar of his shirt and dragged him close to her. He looked ready to faint.

"Thanks for showing me such a good time." She grinned, and kissed him hard on the lips.

He almost yelped, his eyes widening in shock, before she shoved him away and slid off the bar.

Now she was in the mood to see Riley.

Angel lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Beside him, Darla stirred and opened her eyes. The way her blonde hair spread over the pillow reminded him of Buffy. A lot of things about her reminded him of the slayer. Mainly how much I miss her.

"Morning." He said quietly, as she slid closer to him in the bed, her teeth nipping at his shoulder.

"Is it?" she asked, her eyebrows lifting.

"About an hour until dawn." He began to sit up, but Darla placed a hand on his chest.

"You have somewhere to be, lover?"

He frowned.

"Not particularly, but I thought you would want to leave soon."

"Still hiding me from your little friends?" she laughed softly, "They must have realised, Angel. They can't be that stupid."

"Having them know and rubbing it in their faces are two different things." He did sit up this time, looking down at her as she lay in the bed. She looked back at him, her eyes half-closed, a faint smile on her lips. "Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?" she seemed genuinely unsure of his question.

"Coming to see me." He gestured vaguely. "Wolfram and Hart restored you to tempt me into evil. Why have you stopped?"

"Who says I have?" she gave him a smouldering smile.

"Darla." He frowned, not in the mood to be teased.

She shrugged,

"You're very handsome." Her fingertips gently stroked his arm.

"That isn't enough." He caught her hand in his, "You stalked the world for four hundred years, and now you turn your back on that just to share my bed?"

"I haven't turned my back on anything -"

"When was the last time you fed from a human?" he challenged her.

Darla lowered her gaze,

"You know when." She looked away.

"Cordelia." He breathed, his suspicion confirmed. "That's almost six months, Darla. I never knew you to go more than a few days, before. What changed?"

"You did." She looked back at him suddenly, and he couldn't tell if it was rage or fear or love he saw in her eyes. "I never thought you would hurt me. But you did. You staked me for that … that girl."

"Buffy?"

"Yes. The slayer, of all things." Her tone was both bitter and amused. "But I know what happened afterwards, Angel. I know that you can never be with her."

"But you think I can be with you?"

"Would it be so bad?"

"It can't work, for the same reasons Buffy and I didn't. I kill our kind, Darla."

"You haven't killed me. This time, anyway."

"I should have." He looked away from her, "Sooner or later you'll grow tired of waiting for me, and you'll start to feed again."

"Perhaps," such a familiar tone, at once little girl and seductress, "but I'm older than you, my love. And I have a great deal of patience."

"Is that was this is about?" he turned back to watch her eyes, "You think I'll lose my soul again?"

Darla smiled, her hand caressing the side of his neck,

"All it takes is one moment," she murmured, "if you forget yourself for even an instant, I will have my Angellus again. And I am very good at making you forget, aren't I, my love?"

He growled in the back of his throat and pushed her back on the bed, his hands in her hair. Their mouths met, briefly, teeth scraping at one another's lips.

"It's not going to happen." He breathed the words into her mouth.

She chuckled,

"We'll see."

And then there was no more need for words.

Chapter Fourteen

"Well?" Spike demanded, his limited patience all but exhausted.

Aleister nodded excitedly,

"The Gem is to the east of here." He announced, "Not more than two miles distant."

Spike smiled,

"That puts it somewhere in the town limits." he didn't try to conceal his self-satisfaction, "now explain how this gizmo of yours is supposed to work."

"It's quite simple," Aleister explained, lifting the silvery cube for Spike to examine, "the Taladarm eyes; plus several other ingredients; have been placed within this device. You notice that it has been decorated on each face with runes of detection and searching -"

"What are you, a bloody Watcher?" Spike snapped, "How do I use it?"

"The runes on the face closest to the Gem will glow." Aleister swallowed nervously, "the brighter they glow, the closer you are."

Spike took the box and turned it over in his hands, watching the glow move smoothly from face to face of the cube. Currently, the light they gave off was the colour of fresh blood. Appropriate.

"It'll do." He conceded, "What's the maximum range?"

"About ten miles," Aleister said, uncertainly, "but the Gem is much closer than that."

"Yeah, but if someone else makes one of these little toys," Spike shook the box casually, enjoying the way Aleister flinched as he did so, "then I want to know what sort of detection range they'll have with it."

"Oh. I hadn't thought of that."

"Which is why you work for me." Spike assured the other vampire calmly.

He turned to the only other vampire present in the room, a stocky Cuban whose real name he had never bothered to learn,

"Go tell the others to be get ready, Fidel." He slipped the cube into his jacket pocket, pulling out his crumpled packet of cigarettes as he did so. "We move tonight."

As he lit the cigarette, Spike allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction. The slayers won't know what's hit 'em.

A dark shape ducked back into an alleyway half a block ahead of the slayers.

Faith slowed to a stop.

"Vampire?" she said casually, putting her hands on her hips.

"Vampire." Buffy agreed, stopping beside her. "Furtive, much?"

"You think it's our boy?" the brunette drawled, resuming her slow walk toward the alleyway.

"Who else?" the shorter slayer had to take three steps for every two of Faith's, but somehow seemed in even less of a hurry, "Two weeks without even a sniff of a vamp, and now three near-sightings in one night. Spike must be ready to make his move."

"Are we?"

"We are." Buffy produced a small transitter, turned it on, then slipped it into the pocket of her jacket. "The others will know that things are about to start, now. And they can track us with the receiver."

"Where'd you get the high tech stuff?" Faith asked, peering into the alleyway.

"Riley still has some commando gear left over from the Initiative." The blonde brushed past her, "You see? He does have his uses."

"I know exactly what use you see him for." Faith said, with a sly grin.

Buffy shrugged, evidently unembarrassed by the innuendo,

"You know how slaying is."

Hungry and horny. It was time to change the topic of conversation. Giles still wasn't able to explain Buffy's changed behaviour. I wish Tara and Red had been able to help. Unfortunately, the two wicca had to divert a lot of their strength to imprisoning the spy they had captured. It was limiting their ability to investigate what was going on with the blonde slayer.

And talking to B doesn't help. She doesn't even see that she's changed.

"So are they still leading us west?"

"Yeah," Buffy clambered over the fence at the end of the alleyway, then waited for Faith to follow.

"You know Sunnydale better than me. What's out this way?"

"We're about half a mile from the docks." Buffy brushed back her hair, scanning the street they had just entered, "it's mainly factories and warehouses around here."

"Prime vampire real estate," Faith noted dryly, "There!" she pointed in time for Buffy to spot the dark figures entering a warehouse some fifty yards away.

"Looks like we're about to spring Spike's trap." The blonde remarked, drawing a stake from inside her jacket.

"Looks like." Faith agreed, spinning her own stake in her fingers.

They walked slowly toward the warehouse, keeping away from the few streetlights.

"You ready for this?" Buffy asked, resting her hand on the handle of the warehouse door.

"You know me, B." Faith grinned, "Five by five."

The blonde thrust open the door and they plunged inside.

Within, the warehouse was shadowy. A few fluorescent lights were spaced at wide intervals across the exposed rafters, but less than half were working. Thankfully, what would have been disturbingly gloomy for normal humans was par for the course for slayers.

"Nice place." Faith joked, scanning the piles of rusty machinery.

"Renovator's dream." The other slayer agreed, her boots kicking up small clouds of dust on the floor. "Looks like it has a rat problem, though." she indicated a set of footprints leading into the depths of the building.

They moved forward, not straying more than a few feet away from each other. If they got separated in the maze of boxes and machinery there could be no guarantee of finding one another again, quickly.

"I hope the others can find their way through all this junk." Faith murmured, "how long do you think it will take them to get here, anyway?"

"We can't be more than five minutes from Giles' place." Buffy shrugged and spoke in a normal tone of voice, seemingly oblivious to the trap they were deliberately walking into, "Sunnydale isn't that big, and the roads are quiet this time of night."

"I hope so." The brunette confessed.

"You're nervous?" Buffy raised her eyebrows, "What happened to the girl who always charged in?"

"A lot."

The blonde nodded, conceding the point. Moments later, they emerged from amidst the machinery to find a short iron staircase leading down into a spacious loading bay.

Spike stood in the centre of the bay, flanked by over thirty vampires. Many carried weapons: knives, clubs or chains. Beyond the crowd were two garage-sized roll-a-doors.

"Evening, darlin'." The British vampire greeted Buffy jauntily, "you brought the substitute slayer, I see. And I thought this would be a private party."

"This from the guy who invited thirty guests." Faith jumped lightly down onto the concrete. Her blonde companion made no answer, but joined the brunette in the bay.

Spike shrugged,

"What can I say? Gatecrashers are always a problem."

Buffy charged.

For a second, Faith was caught flat-footed by the blonde's unexpected action. Then, with a curse, she leapt after the other slayer. Dammit, B. The more time we wasted on the 'tough talk', the quicker the others would have been here.

There did seem to be advantages to Buffy's direct approach. The blonde's opening strike had been so unexpected that Spike had only narrowly dodged it, and Buffy had slain the two vampires directly behind him before any of the others could even react.

Which still leaves the odds at fifteen-to-one. Faith came in low, sweeping out the legs of a female vampire. She struck an overhand blow to the fallen vamp's chest, then surged to her feet as it dusted beside her. Her rising stake caught a second vampire under the ribcage, dusting it as well.

The brunette was just feeling a moment of satisfaction when a heavy iron chain slapped into her arm, tangling it. The attacking vamp pulled strongly, almost yanking her from her feet. Faith braced herself and pulled back, but that just locked them in position. A baseball bat caught her across the back of the shoulders.

Lucky it wasn't your head, moron. Keep moving! Suddenly relaxing her arm, the slayer let the vampire haul her forward, then jabbed him sharply in the face. He staggered and released the chain. Moments later he was dust.

Two more vampires barrelled into her, slamming her into the corrugated iron wall of the loading bay.

"That hurt." she snarled, driving her forearm into the face of the left-hand vamp. Its grip loosened, and Faith twisted out of her jacket, leaving the vampires holding nothing but denim.

Kicking a knife-wielding vampire in the chest, the brunette looked around rapidly for her fellow slayer. Buffy was in the midst of more than a dozen vampires, a wide, feral smile on her face.

Well at least B is enjoying herself. Faith sprinted out of the knot of vampires that were closing in on her, and leapt up onto the short iron staircase. Damn it, there are too many.

Two vampires leapt up onto the platform on either side of the staircase whilst three more approached her from the front. Seeing the vulnerability of her position, Faith threw herself forward, knocking one of the vampires from its feet. Rolling quickly, she felt something strike a glancing blow on her arm, while a chain slapped into the concrete beside her head.

Flexing her numbed fingers, the slayer scrambled to her feet, absorbing a kick to the thigh as she did so. A backhand blow staggered the closest vampire, but more were already encircling her. Shifting her weight, the brunette suddenly turned and took two quick steps toward one of the vampires. It recoiled, and she threw her weight forward, driving a hole in the circle. Momentarily free, Faith plunged onward, racing toward the wall of the bay.

The vampires followed in a clump, spread out just enough to box her in against the wall. Not gonna happen, deadbeats. Faith leapt, thrusting her leg against one of the main pillars, then threw herself into a back-flip that carried her over the heads of her pursuers.

Landing lightly, she kicked one of the surprised vamps in the back of the knee, then staked him cleanly as his leg folded beneath him.

Something slashed her arm, and the brunette jerked sideways, straight into the arms of a big, strong vampire. Damn. Blind-sided. He grabbed her and began to squeeze, his breath cold and foul on her cheek.

Faith snapped back her head, hearing the bone and cartilage in his nose shatter under the blow. A stamp of her heel onto his instep and she was free. Surrounded again, but free.

Arms spread, trying to ignore the blood trickling down onto her hand, Faith turned slowly, holding back the six vampires around her by sheer force of the cocky grin on her face. It wouldn't stop them for long, she knew, but it gave her a moment to look around.

Buffy was still surrounded, but seemed to be holding her own quite successfully. Better than me, anyway. Where's Spike?

She found him at the last moment; ducking out through the open vehicle doors, obviously satisfied that the slayers were occupied. Shit. Where are the others?

As if on cue, Riley and Xander burst out of the machinery, leapt into the bay while still at a full run, and charged the vampires surrounding Buffy. Moments later, the three girls appeared, forming a small circle and chanting. A grim-faced Giles stood guard over them, a stake and a cross in his hands.

One of the vamps surrounding Faith half-turned to look at the newcomers, and she used the distraction to slam her foot into his shin. There was a satisfying crack, and the vampire tumbled sideways, moaning.

"Yeah, I bet it hurt, you undead son-of-a-bitch." She mocked, spinning her stake and stepping back again. Keep 'em distracted. Keep 'em here. One of the others growled, but she just laughed, her eyes on the fight surrounding Buffy.

Xander and Riley had caught the vampires by surprise, slaying two and drawing off two more, with whom they were now desperately fighting. Just a little more and B will be clear. Light flashed suddenly from the three chanting girls. It splashed over a vampire, which screamed, bursting into flames. An opening appeared in the vampire lines.

"Go, B! Now!" Faith yelled, then staggered as a blow caught her left side. She swore and lashed out blindly, her eyes still on Buffy. Go. Please. Go. Another blow, this time from the right.

For a moment, she saw Buffy look at the gap. For a moment, the blonde half stepped toward it. Then, with a howl, Buffy whirled and leapt into the thick of the vampires.

"No!" Faith screamed, feeling strong hands grabbing at her but not able to care. "No, B! Go after Spike! He's getting away!"

Then something struck her head, and her vision blurred.

"No, B! Go after Spike! He's getting away!"

Riley heard Faith's urgent shout and risked a glance at the blonde slayer. To his shock, she had ignored the chance to pursue Spike, instead leaping back into the fight.

His vampire lunged at him, and he twisted aside, grabbing it by the shirt and helping it on his way as he did so.

A rapid glance at the large doors through which Spike had retreated and he saw that they were slowly rolling shut. For the moment, he was the only one free. It couldn't be more than a few seconds before both doors would be closed.

He ran, throwing himself flat to roll under the closing door. As he rose to his feet, he heard something collide heavily with the other side.

Riley scanned the street quickly, looking for the bleached blonde vampire. There. Spike was hurrying along the sidewalk, already a full block away. It's all up to you, Finn. He broke into a run, his booted feet sounding loud as they pounded into the concrete.

The British vampire turned to face him whilst he was still twenty yards away. Riley pulled up quickly, sizing up his opponent and taking a moment to regain his breath.

"Well, if it isn't GI Joe." Spike smiled unpleasantly, "Come to do what a slayer can't, hero?"

"Come to do what needs to be done." Riley lowered himself into a crouch, gripping his stake tightly, "I've dealt with your type before."

Spike's smile broadened, and he laughed mockingly,

"You think staking a few cubs impresses me? I've killed two slayers, boy. You've never dealt with anything like me."

Riley shrugged,

"Big talk from Hostile 17."

Spike's smile twisted, then took on an air of anticipation. Then he attacked.

Riley was driven back by the initial impact. Spike was strong. And fast. Much faster than he had expected. Grunting with the effort, he ripped out of the vampire's grip, lashing out with his stake as he did so. Spike dodged the blow, a smile still pulling at his lips.

Breathing deeply, Riley circled slowly. Spike turned as he did so, always facing him.

"Getting tired?" the vampire taunted, "I've had deodorants with more staying power than you."

Riley didn't answer. Mid-combat banter had never been his strong point.

Instead, he lunged forward, thrusting with the stake. Spike twisted aside of the blow, striking Riley's elbow as he did so. The stake slipped from his suddenly numbed fingers. Moments later, the British vampire threw him bodily into a nearby wall.

Sucking in gulps of air, Riley narrowly dodged a kick that had been aimed at his head, and drew a fresh stake with his left hand. It was normally his weaker hand, but he didn't have proper feeling in the fingers of his right arm.

Spike shook his head,

"You still don't get it, do you?" he seemed relaxed, totally at ease, "You're gonna die, mate. The only reason that it won't be slow and painful is that I have a package to collect."

"We'll see." Riley lunged forward again, receiving a stinging blow to the head as he did so. His own blow went well wide. Then Spike's hands grabbed the back of his jacket and the vampire slammed him into the wall. He heard, but did not feel, his forehead collide with the brickwork. Not good. Something hot and sticky was dripping down his face.

Keeping him pinned to the wall, Spike prised the stake from his fingers.

"I could turn you, now." He murmured into Riley's ear. The ex-commando tried to struggle, but his limbs seemed heavy and weak, "Give the little blonde bitch a real treat. But what's the point? You won't be the first boyfriend she's helped me kill."

Riley felt himself being pulled around, so that his back was to the wall. He tried to focus on Spike, but his vision kept slipping in and out of darkness.

Then he felt a sudden pressure on his chest. For a moment, there was pain, so far away he might have imagined it. Then he just felt cold. He slid to his knees, dimly hearing Spike speak,

"Never send a boy to do a slayer's job."

And then the final darkness claimed Riley Finn.

----------

She howled, a deep note of mixed rage and pleasure, then hurled herself into the knot of vampires. Dimly, she was aware of others fighting the prey. Her prey. She ignored them, her whole being focussed on the task she had made for. Slaying. She could feel the power in her, her strength and speed greater than they had ever been in the past.

The undead fell before her, one after another, as the rising tide of the battle burned within her. This was so much better than a single kill in a graveyard, or slaying a handful of newborn. Her vision was flooded with red, yet totally clear. Wherever she moved, vampires died.

She could sense the other life forces here. Mostly humans, but also some others. A demon, weak and powerless. An empty one, soulless and pitiable. And something else, like a pale shadow of herself. It struggled at the midst of several vampires.

Curiousity drew her to it, the vampires scattering before her. But there was nowhere to run. She pursued them, slaying one after another. Some fought, all died. She could sense a few of their blows landing, her blood welling from a dozen small scrapes. She welcomed it, knowing that the scent would drive her prey wild.

Then suddenly there were no more, and she stood alone. One of the humans approached her slowly, speaking urgently, but she had no interest in his kind. Her shadow was to her left, crouched on the floor. She could smell blood and weakness on it. Sniffing experimentally, she stalked over to it, tangling the creature's hair in her hands and drawing it to its feet.

It moaned softly, and she grunted. Faintly, she could sense its strength, like an echo of her own, but choked off, limited. The scent of it was strongest at the neck, where a fresh wound was still bleeding.

Oblivious to the humans around her, she drew the wound to her mouth, suckling on the warm blood that coated the creature's skin. The taste was strong and sweet; like her own, but slightly spoiled. She growled, not sure if it was prey or not.

One of the humans grabbed at her, shouting something. She pushed it away with one hand, knocking it to the ground. As she did, the creature stirred weakly, drawing closer to her, like a cub to its mother. Not prey, then.

Faith could hear the beat of her own heart like a drum in her ears. There was a dull pain in her neck, and she knew dimly that she was being drained, the vampire groaning in pleasure from the taste of her blood. But her eyes were still on Buffy. The other slayer was golden, unstoppable, a force of nature as she tore through the vampires who faced her.

She tried to call out. To Buffy. To Xander. To anyone. But she couldn't hear anything over the drum of her heart. Couldn't speak or make a sound.

And then it was dark, but she felt herself lifted up. And she was in her mother's arms again, back in the days before things went wrong. She murmured and drew closer into the strong arms that were holding her safe.

Buffy jerked back in surprise, feeling Faith's body like a dead weight in her arms. Her mouth tasted of blood and she gagged, fighting an urge to spit. The brunette was only semi-conscious, obviously badly hurt. Did I? No, of course not.

She shook her head, trying to clear it. Then Xander was there, scrambling up from the ground to draw Faith away from her, his expression half anger, half alarm.

"Riley?" she asked, her voice seeming thick from the blood.

"He went after Spike." Xander snapped, "Like you were supposed to."

Her chest felt tight. She ran.

Riley.

Chapter Fifteen

Faith opened her eyes with a soft moan of pain. She was propped against the iron staircase, Giles hovering over her.

"Hey." She winced. There were dull aches from every part of her body, and a stronger, sharper one from her neck. Jesus, I almost didn't make it. "Did we win?"

"I don't know." Giles answered pensively, "Riley managed to go after Spike. Buffy is looking for him. Now keep still. You've been badly hurt."

"You should the other guy." Faith joked weakly, "B blew off the plan, didn't she?"

"Yes." Giles admitted, applying a bandage to her neck, "It was …"

Not like her. Faith nodded, then moaned softly. Okay, no head movements.

"She was something else, though. Wasn't she?" she murmured, feeling a wave of dizziness hit her, "B, I mean. I've never seen anything like it. Those vamps couldn't even touch her."

"It was … eye-opening." Giles said, somewhat uncomfortably. "I've certainly never seen her like that, before."

"We should go find her." Faith tried to stand up, and the world tilted alarmingly. Woah, I'm a mess.

"You should keep still." The ex-Watcher reminded her, "Even with your slayer healing powers, it will take a while for you to recover from your injuries."

"Okay." Faith smiled shakily, "but just for five minutes, 'kay?"

"Not a second longer." Giles agreed sombrely as the brunette slipped back into unconsciousness.

"Xander?"

The young man turned at the sound of his name.

"Hey," he walked over and crouched beside her. "Sounding a bit rough there, Faith."

The brunette smiled,

"Feeling it, too. Help me up?"

"Sure." He supported her arm gently as she levered herself to her feet, leaning heavily on the iron staircase. They seemed to be the only ones left in the bay.

"Where are the others?"

"Looking for Buffy."

"You got the short straw, huh? Watching over the invalid."

Xander shrugged,

"I have experience in being bedside-guy. And someone needed to stay and protect you in case any vamps came by."

"My protector." Faith managed a smirk, "Enjoy it whilst it lasts, Harris. In half an hour I'll be able to kick your ass all over the block."

She expected a snappy riposte, but he merely shrugged again.

"Okay, I'm missing something." she let go of the staircase experimentally. Her legs didn't feel too steady, but she didn't seem in imminent danger of falling over, "Something's wrong, isn't it?"

"It's Riley." Xander didn't look at her, "Giles found him outside."

Faith didn't need to ask. She could see it in Xander's face. But the words came anyway,

"He's dead?"

"Yeah…" Xander stopped, at a loss for words, "Yeah…"

"How's B?" It was the first question that came to her mind.

"We don't know." He shook his head, "She must have found Riley's body straight away … it was only just down the street. Giles thinks she's out looking for Spike."

"And everyone else is out looking for her."

"Yeah."

"Are they using the receiver … the one that Riley gave her?"

"They can't." he shook his head, "Buffy left her jacket over Riley's body. The transmitter was in the pocket."

She leaned heavily against the staircase,

"Why, Xander? Why does everything I touch go to hell?"

He laughed, shortly,

"It isn't you, Faith. It's Sunnydale. Even if you'd never come here, we'd still be fightin' that funky evil." Xander sighed, "There'd still be a Spike, or a Mayor, or an Adam. There always is. At least with you here we have double the slayer firepower."

"We don't, you know." Faith grimaced, "The time was, I thought I could match B at just about anything, from staking vamps to playing miniature golf. But I wasn't even in the same league tonight."

Xander didn't answer. He didn't need to. They had both seen the difference between the two slayers.

"We should go help them look for her." Faith stood up, intending to walk to the large doors of the bay. Xander caught her as she half-stumbled,

"Not a chance." He said quietly, "I have very clear instructions. I have to make sure you go to bed and rest. The others will find Buffy. You can speak to her tomorrow."

Briefly, Faith considered arguing, but there was a determined set to Xander's jaw.

"I should pop you one." She muttered.

"Do it and I'll kick your ass."

She laughed softly. He probably could, at the moment.

"Okay. You win. Take me home, Xander."

Willow and Tara had returned to the house.

Hansard couldn't specifically identify the point where he had ceased to think of them as 'the renegade' and 'the human'. That was quite unsettling. Too human.

It did not require the heightened senses of his people to see that they were both concerned about something. He watched them from the prison they had fashioned, mildly irritated that the events of their lives were beginning to hold an interest for him. That too, was a human trait.

"Were you successful?" he asked calmly, fully aware that something was wrong.

At first, neither answered. Then Willow; 'the human', he corrected himself; sighed,

"We don't know if Spike got the Gem or not. Buffy was supposed to go after him, but she didn't. So Riley did. He … he died. And now Buffy has disappeared."

Hansard considered her words.

"If she has not returned, it is likely that your companion was also slain by Spike."

"No!" the redhead shouted, tears springing to her eyes, "She's alive!"

"That is not a logical conclusion."

"Don't go all Spock on me." She snapped.

Spock? Hansard ignored the comment,

"If Spike does have the Gem, you should leave immediately." He said blandly, "The Jeneth demons will begin to arrive within a matter of days. You cannot defeat them."

"You thought we couldn't beat you." Willow reminded him.

"Touché." He conceded, "However, your powers are now limited by the very fact that you must keep me bound. That causes a fatal weakening of your powers."

"If you would agree to keep Tara's presence here a secret, we wouldn't need to imprison you."

"It is an unacceptable request." He replied, "I told you what Spike was seeking as a demonstration of my good intentions. But I cannot grant what you ask."

They did not answer, but moved away from him, silently signalling that the conversation was at an end. He accepted this calmly, but did not refrain from eavesdropping.

"He's right, you know." Tara murmured. She was always the more difficult to hear of the two. "We can't help fight the Jeneth if he need to keep him imprisoned."

"We don't know that we need to fight the Jeneth yet." The redhead insisted, "Buffy might have stopped Spike."

"She didn't." Tara shook her head, "We would have heard from her by now if she had."

"She's not dead!"

"I agree," the blonde placated her human lover, "We would know if she were. But we must assume that she did not manage to stop Spike. He had a big lead on her. She probably couldn't find him."

"So where is she?" Willow asked miserably.

"I don't know." The renegade admitted, "but we know that she hasn't been acting like herself, recently."

"Yeah," Willow shivered, "did you see the way she tasted Faith's blood? What was she doing?"

"Blood is a vital fluid." Hansard observed calmly, interrupting them, "it contains the very essence of a living thing. That is why vampires feed on it. Some creatures can absorb or analyse that essence by consuming blood."

"What does that have to do with Buffy?" the redhead demanded.

Hansard stretched his lips into a small smile. It was an unfamiliar act, but it served to convey the fact that he had information they required.

"I can explain your friend's changed behaviour." He said quietly, "Just as … Tara … would be able to do if she had not polluted herself so completely with human failings. The question is, what is the information worth?"

The two girls looked at one another, confusion clear in their expressions. Hansard's expression did not change, but he felt a faint surge of satisfaction. Now they will have to bargain.

The marker seemed too small, somehow. Faith stared at it, unable to imagine how Riley could be reduced to the simple plaque he had been given. Slowly, she drew her denim jacket around her, shivering despite the bright sunshine of the day.

Two days, and no word from B. She couldn't look at the others who stood at the marker. She knew what she would see in each face. Grief. Loss. Blame. It had been her plan. And now Riley was dead. Granted, she had never really liked him; that was an attitude she had learned from Angel even before she came back to Sunnydale. But he meant a lot to B.

And now the other slayer; the better slayer; was missing. And Spike presumably had the Gem he had been looking for. Which meant that demons were probably already on their way to Sunnydale.

Jesus, B. Where are you?

There were only the four of them there. The official funeral; Riley's official grave; was in Iowa, with his family. But Faith had wanted there to be something in Sunnydale to commemorate him. Something for B to see. And so they had placed this simple bronze plaque in a distant corner of the cemetery. One more grave amidst the thousands.

Thank god Red and Tara aren't here. She couldn't have faced the blame from two more sets of eyes. It was hard enough to carry the image of how Buffy would look at her when they next met. The two wicca were still trying to coax their prisoner into revealing what he knew about Buffy's strange behaviour. So far, they had had little success.

Giles spoke the eulogy, his voice soft yet firm. He said the phrases with a tired familiarity that tore Faith up, inside. He's buried so many people. She imagined the day that he would speak the words for her. Would anyone else come?

She kept her eyes on the plaque, but she could feel both Xander and Anya watching her. The girl's eyes would hold suspicion and distrust. Faith could handle that. She was used to it. Xander's eyes were worse. She knew they would hold pity. And that was something she couldn't deal with.

So she kept her gaze on the plaque, tracing the words again and again with her eyes. Riley Finn. A Good Man. Then at last, Giles was done. For a moment, she thought of saying a prayer, but with a hollow feeling she realised that she didn't know how.

"Goodbye." She mumbled at last, turning away from the grave.

"Faith! Wait."

The brunette turned back reluctantly, stopping only because she could not pretend she had not heard Xander call.

"Are we going to train this afternoon?" he asked, seemingly oblivious to the glare they were getting from Anya.

"I don't know." She mumbled, not looking at him, "I should look for B. She's gotta be out there somewhere."

"You shouldn't blame yourself for what happened." Xander ducked low so that her downcast eyes met his. "It wasn't your fault."

"Really?" Faith felt her lip twist into a smirk, "does your girlfriend agree?"

"Anya doesn't blame you for what happened. She doesn't like you much, granted. But she doesn't blame you."

"Well either way, maybe we shouldn't spend so much time together, yeah?" Faith shrugged, doing her best to play the hard, tough slayer. "She probably wants you around even more, now."

Xander sighed,

"Look. I'll be at the gym from four till six. If you come by, we'll train. If you don't …" He shrugged. "… then you don't."

"Okay." Despite herself, Faith smiled slightly. "I'll see if I can make it."

Willow sighed and rubbed her eyes tiredly. Hansard watched her impassively. Unlike the two girls, he could go for several days without the need for sleep.

"Your request remains unacceptable." He restated his position. "I cannot turn my back on Tara's actions. They endanger our whole people."

"We need her." The redhead protested, "I love her."

If Hansard had been human, he would have shrugged.

"These matters do not concern me."

"A month." It was the first time Tara had spoken in nearly an hour.

"What?" the redhead looked at her lover in confusion, but the blonde had her eyes focussed on Hansard. He merely waited, impassive.

"A month." She repeated, "If we let you go, you tell us everything you know about what has happened to Buffy, and you leave us in peace for a month. At the end of that time, if you still want to take me for punishment, we won't resist."

"Like heck we won't!" the human exclaimed in shock.

"Willow," Tara took the redhead's hand in her own, "Please. I have to do this."

"But -"

"The offer is acceptable." Hansard said calmly.

"Agreed."

"Wait!" Willow protested.

"It is too late." Hansard shook his head, "the deal is made." Already he could feel the imprisonment spell dissolving around him, as Tara ceased to supply it with energy.

"No!" the human protested again, tears in her eyes. The extravagant display of emotion made Hansard feel a vague sense of discomfort.

"I will tell you what you need to know." He addressed his words to the renegade. "And in a month, I shall return to take you for justice."

"If you do not change your mind." She said quietly.

There was an air of confidence about her that he found surprising. False bravado.

"I will not."

She crouched at the mouth of the cave, waiting for the darkness to come. Waiting to hunt. It had been millennia since she last walked the world. Millennia in which slayer and vampire alike had grown weak. She would change that. She would hunt again.

Sending dreams had not been enough. The new slayer had turned too far from her true purpose. Had become part of the weak, human world. Had renounced the role they were supposed to play in favour of offering protection in exchange for acceptance.

Slayers were not protectors, they were predators. The supreme predator, designed to cull the weak from among the vampires as the vampires in turn culled the humans. The world would learn that again. She would hunt, and slay, and show the soft mortal world exactly what the slayer was supposed to be. She did not seek acceptance by the humans. It meant nothing to her. She sought only the hunt, and the chance to slay.

The girl had been strong, to resist the sending of the dream. But she had also been blind to the true power of the slayers. She had never even suspected what was happening to her. Now her body belonged to a true slayer, and the proper order would be restored.

The sun began to set, and the slayer smiled. Soon she would hunt.

And, trapped deep within the slayer, the soul of Buffy Summers slowly began to die.