It was high noon when the long-distance Greyhound bus rolled up into the Sunnydale stop. A few people piled out, but it was mostly empty. The driver was the last to pile out and he checked over the tires and latches on the bus before heading inside the small station himself. It had been a long drive from Salt Lake City and he was looking forward to some downtime.
Unbenounced to the passengers or the driver, there was one more rider to get off the bus. When all was quiet, a soft thumping sound started up from the lower baggage compartment near the rear wheels. After a few moments of continuous hammering, the latch popped from the bolts holding it in place and a figure hopped out. During this lunch break, there were few people around that had a chance of seeing the figure heave a duffel back onto their shoulder.
Pulling out a cigarette, the girl lit up before walking out of the bus yard towards the small town sprawled out before her...
Chapter 5: Punch Drunk Loathing
Four more hours until dusk, just four little hours. Why couldn't it be sooner? Why was Buffy even counting down the hours? Why wasn't the Boss calling with some work? Why didn't anything interesting happen during the day?!
After the disaster that was Buffy's awards ceremony, things had fallen into a pattern. Mostly that pattern had revolved around Buffy ignoring anything and everything that had to do with her life such as friends, socializing, and...well, that was pretty much all there was to Buffy's life anyway, so that just left her job. Night after night of slaying and running errands for the Boss. Going downtown to the beaten up old magic shop, taking a troupe of vampires into the sewers to find some rare mushroom being grown by a demon cult, or even keeping tabs on other beasties that were just passing through, nothing was too mundane for the blond.
Not that she was trying to run from life, Buffy told herself. After all, isn't this what she had always wanted? No Watcher, no annoying creatures trying to end the world, no annoying parents; this was supposed to be the dream of any young girl! Buffy reminded herself that she should be thankful, ecstatic even, that she had money of her own and an apartment all to herself.
So...why did she feel so miserable?
There were several explanations, but none the Slayer thought were adequate. Overworked? No, Buffy still felt ready to run out into the night and bust some skulls. Stressed? Not with that new jacuzzi tub she had installed the other week. Maybe it was the lack of banter? Well, working with vampires kept Buffy up-to-date on the latest scathing cutdowns and black humor.
What was it then?
"Ah, that's it," Buffy grumbled as she watched the title screen for a rerun of Cheers come on her big screen TV. Reminded Buffy a little of the Bronze, a place she hadn't been back to in weeks for fear of running into Willow or Xander.
What was she to do, though? Buffy couldn't crawl back to them, not when they probably hated her guts. Besides, they weren't of any more use even if they did see the big picture. The Slayer doubted that Willow would help with research if it lead to...to killing people. Xander would just start screaming his head off and she'd be forced to clock him again.
Not that Buffy had actually killed anyone else. Thankfully, she had so far been able to simply beat the ever-loving crap out of any humans she came across on patrols who weren't on the up-and-up and then dump them at the police station.
A more shocking development was Buffy's tolerance of using a gun, though. At first, she hadn't even wanted to take the thing out of her weapon's locker. Then, during a particularly boring day, she had brought it out to clean and maintenance along with her other weapons. That, of course, meant getting specific cleaning supplies which in turn lead Buffy back to the police station. She then proceeded to get into a very long-winded conversation about ammo, shotguns, and slaying in general which ended with a trip down to the basement firing range and a few free lessons. Now it was a rare sight to see Buffy without the Stakeout slung over her back during a patrol.
But that was all beside the point.
Buffy flopped and rolled around on her bed as she tried to think of something to pass the time. It was already 3:00PM and there were still more than a few hours left until nightfall. Summer, Buffy found, wasn't that great when you literally had nothing to do. She had bought everything for the apartment, a new wardrobe, all the N64 games she could ever play alone, and pretty much every cute thing to just toss around the loft for atmosphere.
Buffy was honestly shopped-out.
Finally, a light knocking on the apartment's door provided a much-needed distraction. Of course, it was probably just another magazine salesman or girl scout.
"I'm coming," Buffy sighed when the knocking continued. To her surprise, it was none other than Allen Finch standing on the other side of her door. "Allen! Tell me the Boss has something he needs me to do. I'm going crazy. I might already be crazy. Best not to keep me waiting."
Finch looked flustered at the Buffy-isms, as he had come to categorize the Slayer's unusual banter, but then again pretty much anything unusual had him flustered. "So, how are you doing? Keeping busy?" He was trying to make polite conversation, but Buffy was having none of that.
"I'm just waiting for the sun to go down so all the baddies will come out and let me kill them. What do you think?" Buffy had to cut Finch off so he'd eventually get to the point. In a way, he was a bit like Willow. Only, you know, a fair bit more annoying.
"Ah, um, the Mayor sent me. We...we kind of have a problem. Someone's dropped by for a visit and a few of the demons have left to join them."
"What ever happened to employer loyalty?" Vampires were totally unreliable when it came to things like this. "Something new, big, and scary rolls into town and they all jump ship. Gives me an excuse to dust them, though. Who's the new Big Bad?" Buffy could hardly wait for a good brawl.
Finch pulled a manila envelope out of his coat and spread it out on a nearby coffee table. "Kakistos. Ancient vampire with...um...a hand problem...thing."
The slayer looked at the drawing of the demon and whistled. "Hand problem is putting it lightly. He looks like a walking cow with fangs." The Greek vampire had hooves for hands. Who had hooves for hands? That was just silly. "Has he set up shop yet?" Now Buffy was in full Slayer mode. She was already thinking of a few places a vamp like this would want to hang out.
"We don't know where he's put a lair, but he is looking for someone. A slayer."
Okay, so he was a fan. "I love it when they come to me. It's almost like having the gym delivered to your house." Buffy grabbed her leather jacket and slipped it on. Brushing past Finch, she rummaged through her weapon's drawer until she pulled a stake. She also grabbed her Ithaca Stakeout and slung it over her shoulder.
When the skittish Deputy Mayor spotted the shotgun, he paled more than usual. "I-is that the same gun as...?"
Buffy grinned as she tied up her boots. "Yup. The shots won't kill vampires by themselves, but what they don't tell you is that it takes their heads off better than a sword." She only had the one bandoleer of shells, though, and she didn't want to waste time going to the prescient for more rounds. Instead, she popped out a shell and tossed it to Finch. "Buy me a few boxes of those, okay? Key is under the mat." Before the man could argue, she was out the door, whistling as she went.
Walking though Sunnydale at dusk was deceiving. Nice people, a clean city, low crime; an all-American place to live. However, the white elephant was that everyone here knew not to walk these streets at night. At night, these streets were the undead's.
A young teenager wasn't walking on the main streets, though. She was ducking around through the back alleys, in the darkness, her eyes darting around and looking for threats. In particular, she was looking at any cars passing by on the street with tented windows.
Ducking inside a worn-down hotel, the girl pulled out a few wrinkled bills. "Single."
The man who was watching a football game behind the clerk's desk pulled a dusty old register out below the desk. "Yeah, so what? What's your name and how long you stayin'?"
"Name's Faith and none of your fucking business."
It was a quiet day in the Southland Industrial Park. Painted windows, bolted doors, a nice homeless guy in the corner; just about better than any crypt. Several vampires were lurking around, uneasy during the day.
"Something doesn't feel right," a tall one mumbled. He felt jittery, like there was something about to happen. Unfortunately for him, he was correct.
A brick crashed through one of the painted windows and flooded the warehouse with light. Three vamps, who were sleeping, instantly burst into flames and the rest were too busy trying to avoid being cooked to guard the door.
The handle was blasted away with a loud crack and a booted foot brought the rest of the door down. Buffy rolled inside and gave her shotgun a pump before blasting the head off a nearby vampire who had ran over. She picked her targets and blew off both feet of the one remaining vampire. With one round left in the tube, she marched up to him and rested the barrel on the demon's forehead.
"You know what I hate?" Buffy asked as she gave her shotgun another pump. Both her and the vamp could hear the round click into the tube. "I hate it when my boss tells me that some new vampire is looking for me. Not only that, half of our vamps just up and leave to help this new guy find and kill me." The slayer gave the vamp a good push with the shotgun so that he was forced backwards onto the stone floor. Buffy slammed her foot onto his chest and repositioned the gun barrel over the vampire's throat. "Now, what can you tell me about a Greek vampire with freaky claw...things. Cow things. Not utters, though. Hooves."
Looking from the shotgun to Buffy's slightly amused face, the vampire realized he was staring down a second death so, like all good lackeys, he started singing. "Kakistos. He came into town yesterday. He-he and this other guy, his lieutenant, started buying up talent at a price higher than the Mayor would pay. They said they were going slayer hunting. I don't know anything else!" Buffy pressed down on the vamp's throat until he could barely talk. "I know a few of them are down at Willy's Bar! But that's it, I swear!"
Buffy groaned as she heard where she had to go next. "Willy. Why does everything lead back to him?" She shouldered her shotgun and walked out of the pool of blood that was rapidly spreading all over the floor. As she walked out, the vampire gave an labored grunt as he tried to stand. Buffy heard it and turned. "Oh, right. I forgot you." She tapped her shotgun on the bottom of her boot to clear the dust out the barrel before slowly bringing up. "Tell this to your buddies when you see them:"
"Don't cross the Boss."
"Jesus, don't the cops around here do shit?" Faith was just ducking out of her rat hole room when she heard shots ringing in the distance. California was supposed to be better than Boston, but this place was like a shooting range tonight.
The sun was just starting to go down and the brunette slayer felt the urge to go out and prowl around. She knew she wasn't completely safe, but staying holed-up inside her hotel room wasn't going to change things. Here, in Sunnydale, it would be harder for Kakistos to find her again. If he did...well, she still had her bus pass.
Still, Faith didn't think she'd need it for at least a few weeks. Walking into the dark alley behind the hotel, she slipped into a well-developed routine for patrolling that she had honed in Boston. Reaching out with her senses, she picked out a vamp from a crowd of drifters lingering about and started to ghost him.
Back when she was alive, Faith's watcher had said that one vampire, if left alone, would lead to others. That was something that Faith was very keen on. She had a lot of tension to work out and not all of it could be done between the sheets. This particular vampire looked like he was going to lead to a real goldmine if left alone.
Oddly, the demon wasn't heading to a crypt or blood bank. No, he was brazenly walking out into the street like a normal person. Into a bar, even. A rundown, pathetic shell of a bar. Not only that, Faith could feel many, many vampires and demons lurking inside.
"Time to go to work," Faith sing-songed with a grin. She pulled a stake from her coat and started a nice saunter. It was her "time to kick some ass" saunter that she reserved only for very special occasions. As she was about to open the door, her senses went haywire. So much so that it nearly stunned her for a moment.
A short blond girl pushed her way in front of Faith but was kind enough to hold the door open. "Coming in?" she asked. The dusty slayer blinked her eyes and managed to get back control of her senses in time to nod. All the vamps here must be affecting her inner slayer.
The girl was almost Faith's height now that the slayer looked closer; it was just the large leather jacket that made the blond look smaller than she was. That, and the shotgun resting in the crook of her arm was making her walk strangely. It was an Ithaca 34 Stakeout; really, a beautiful gun but with far too much kick for a girl like that. Faith knew enough of her old haunts in Boston to know that she didn't want to be in this bar at the moment, though. Unfortunately, the door was already open and she had to walk into the den of smoke and bad booze.
The inside of Willy's was nothing to write home about. Low lighting, a few stools, various cocktails of blood behind the bar, and clientèle that would make Alfred Hitchcock choke on his dinner. Willy saw the two women walk in, but something in Buffy's eyes made him keep his mouth shut. The blond teen looked around at the faces looking back at her; some were new allies that she recognized from City Hall while others were some of the rare few that escaped her during a patrol. They weren't who she was looking for. Risking a look back at the vampire that she had held the door open for, Buffy wondered if the girl was part of Kakistos's crew since she was a new face. It would make sense given the feeling the slayer was getting from her. There was something powerful about the punkish brunette. If it was enough to make even Buffy's senses tweak, then it was something worth looking into.
"Do I know you?" Buffy suddenly asked. Perhaps the lamest way to start a conversation with a stranger, but it would work.
Faith looked surprised at the sudden question. "Ah, uh, don't think so?" She just wanted to get to the bar to get a drink. At first, she had thought the blond was going to rob the place. Now, though, she wasn't so sure. "I don't know anyone who carries a piece like that," Faith motioned to Buffy's right side and at the shotgun hidden within, "on this side of the US."
"Protection. You never know what to expect out here." Buffy walked over to the bar and sat down. She knew the other girl was going to follow if only out of curiosity. "Bourbon, Willy."
"One bourbon, one bottle of Jack," Faith corrected. She flashed a grin when Buffy's eyebrow ticked upwards a bit. "I don't like overrated moonshine, Blondie."
Buffy drummed her fingers on the bar, not letting the dig get to her. So, the girl didn't out and out order blood. Did she know Buffy was the Slayer? If so, why not try to get away as fast as possible to go get her boss? Maybe she thought Buffy was just a regular girl and was looking for a bite to eat? That didn't make sense either, though. She had seen the shotgun despite Buffy's best efforts to keep it hidden.
"So, are you new in town?" Buffy asked as she popped a beer nut into her mouth. The slaying earlier had gotten her a bit hungry.
Faith nodded and reached over the other girl to grab a handful of the snacks. "Yeah, just got here today," she answered in between her loud crunching.
Their drinks arrived before someone else could pose a question and Faith quickly popped the top of her large bottle. "Cheers!" she shouted before downing a good portion without preamble. Buffy was far more conservative with her choice of poison and only swallowed when the brunette took a second gulp.
Alright. The girl could down half a bottle of Jack Daniels without effort, made her Slayer-Senses go haywire, and either didn't know Buffy was the Slayer or didn't care. Things weren't looking too good for the brunette's chances at the moment.
"So, what's your name?"
With a waggle of the eyebrows, Faith responded, "Want something to go with my phone number, huh?"
Buffy's face scrunched up in confusion and her brow dropped. "I don't have your number." Maybe the other girl wasn't as immune to alcohol as first believed.
Faith took another drink from her bottle and wiped her mouth off on her coat sleeve. "True, but with all the questions you're asking me I'm guessin' that that's what you'd want next."
The blond slayer let out a sigh when half the bar started to snicker at her. Wonderful. Losing face in front of the vampires is what lead to this little problem in the first place. "You might want to just answer my questions when I'm pretending to be off the clock. You wouldn't like me when I'm working," Buffy threatened.
"Yeah, well, if you think you can scare me, then you're barking up the wrong tree. Worse things than you have tried to shake me down and I'm still here." Faith easily finished off the bottle of Jack and slammed it down on the counter. "Thanks for the free drink, Twinkie, but I've got things to do."
As Faith was walking away, she felt the cold metal of a shotgun barrel catching up with her head. The bar was already starting to clear out of vamps, much to her annoyance. "Okay, since you don't know what you're getting into, I'll let this slide," Faith growled. She had really wanted to clear the bar herself.
"Funny, that was going to be my line. You might think you're miss 'big, bad, punk-pire' because bullets can't hurt you, but I guarantee that a twelve gauge shell can cut through your neck just as fast as a sword."
The next few moments would mesmerize the only witness left in the bar as Faith decided she had had enough of the lippy blond. The dusky slayer twirled and hit the barrel faster than Buffy could pull the trigger and the shot went wide, ripping a hole in the wall. Instantly, the other teen twirled the shotgun around until she could swing it backwards and try to club the brunette in the back of the head. It would have worked if Faith hadn't already dropped to the floor.
Buffy leapt over the attempted sweep and gave her shotgun a pump midair. As she landed, the Ithaca unloaded into the place where Faith's head had been only a moment before, blasting a fair-sized hole in the floor. The Bostonian had rolled out of the way and was now making a break for the back exit. Shot after shot tore through the bar as Buffy tried to nail the girl and only a last second leap saved Faith from getting hit. Out of shells, the gun was slung back over the blond's back by its strap and the slayer sprinted off after her prey.
The chase was on.
Faith, who was starting to wonder just what the hell she had gotten into, had the advantage as she tore up the outside steps to get street level. Twinkie was good. Real good. The Boston slayer hadn't had such a close shave since the last time Kakistos had caught up with her in Cleveland. Hell, a few stray shot had actually tore into her leg. She was bleeding, but the wounds were mostly superficial. The other girl could not be allowed to catch up, though. Faith couldn't take another barrage like that without serious cover. Or a tank. Whichever she found first.
As she could hear someone coming up the stairs after her, Faith made for the fire escape attached to the side of the bar. She easily pulled herself up the ladder, which was only half-down, and was half way up the second one when her pursuer finally spotted her.
"Climbing? Are you kidding me?" the blond grunted. Nevertheless, she too started up the metal construct.
Faith finally hit the top and ran over to a large air conditioning unit that was humming a few yards over. There she waited until she heard boots softly scuffing on the shingles. With a supreme about of patience and control, the dusty slayer waited for her hunter to get closer and closer to her hiding place. Just before the other girl came into striking distance, though, Faith heard new rounds being loaded into the blond's shotgun. Even though she knew she had been scouted and that her ambush was foiled, Faith couldn't' afford to wait.
The first strike came faster than Buffy had thought it would. She didn't have enough time to load even bring the barrel up before her gun was knocked away. It slid along the roof until it hit the lip all the way on the other end.
"No more boomstick, blondie," Faith taunted. Her hand snaked out and grabbed Buffy's own as it balled into a fist. "What ya planning to do now?"
Buffy answered by driving her forehead into Faith's face. As the Bostonian staggered back, Buffy wrenched her hand out of the other teen's grasp and drove it into her midsection. Following this up with a knee to the chin, the other slayer was soon sprawled out on the ground.
Even though she had won a breather, Buffy didn't have a stake handy. She looked around for something else to substitute, but was caught sleeping by Faith's recovery time. Amazingly, the brunette had already shrugged off the earlier punishment. A strong hand grasped the back of Buffy's leg and easily collapsed her knee, driving the slayer down to the ground.
"Fucking shit, that really hurt!" Faith grabbed Buffy's skull in both hands and threw herself backwards. Blond hair met black shingles as a loud crack came from the blond's skull as it impacted. Not bothering to follow up, the brunette rolled to her feet and made a mad dash to the shotgun. Grabbing it and rolling into a spin, the Slayer twirled around and took aim. "Alright, now it's time to...play?"
Faith blinked as her declaration was met with silence. There was no one on the roof at all. She scanned for any sign of the blond but only the routine twirling of the nearby air conditioner caught Faith's attention. Then, in the distance, the slayer heard the sound of boots on roof tiles.
Impossible! The nearest rooftop was easily thirty feet away! Nevertheless, Faith followed the sound and saw the blond running the opposite direction, full-tilt. It was then that Faith saw it. She saw the blond slam her foot down, while running, and easily clear a twenty-foot gap between roofs without breaking stride.
Slowly, Faith got to her feet. Now she was pretty sure the girl wasn't a vampire. She had to be a demon of some kind, but no vampire could clear distances like that nor move quite that fast. At least, none that she had seen. Faith looked down at the shotgun still in her hands and sighed. Now she was carrying around a loaded weapon, on the roof of a bar that had just gotten shot up. She could hear sirens in the distance, too.
"What the fuck am I going to do no-"
The slayer never got to finish her remark as something impacted with her at a bone-crushing speed. Without any control, Faith flew through the air, twisting as she went, and crashed into a metal exhaust pipe. Several things inside her audible snapped when this happened and the girl gaged up some blood.
"Thanks for holding that for me," Buffy stated as she dusted herself off. Her breathing was only the slightest bit stressed as she walked over to her fallen firearm to reclaim it. She gave it a pump and proceeded over to the prone figure of Faith laying several yards away on the other side of the roof. "You know, it's great that vampires aren't bright. They see someone running away and they don't even keep their guard up. Did it ever occur to you that I could just make a U-turn somewhere and double back?"
With the little strength Faith had left, she pulled herself up into a sitting position. She had hit the pipe arm-first, so that was broken. She had also probably ruptured something, judging by how much blood was pouring into her mouth with every breath. Not the best of places to be at the moment.
"F...fuck...you..." Faith growled. She could face death with a little bit of dignity, anyway. It was this will that stopped the pained scream from coming out when Buffy grabbed a fist-full of her hair. She did manage to spit at the blond, hitting her on the corner of her face.
Buffy pulled back and wiped away the blood that had hit the corner of her mouth. "You're a live wire, huh?" The shotgun was back in Faith's face, just under her chin. "I have a great way to pull the plug. You don't tell me what I want to here, you turn into a billion little dust bunnies. Got it?"
Wonderful. Not only was Faith going to get killed by a demon, she was going to get killed by one of those really crazy ones.
Just as Buffy was about to ask her first question, the fire escape began to shake as thick boots pounded their way upwards. The blond slayer's eyes flicked over to the side, but her grip on the shotgun remained concrete.
She was going to kill them, Faith realized. Either blast them as they poked their heads over the side or let them get all the way up and then tear them to pieces and eat their insides or something. She knew what needed to be done.
"Watch out!" Faith screamed as the first group of SWAT members hit the roof tiles. Buffy pulled the trigger a second too late to take off Faith's head, but the brunette's arm suffered dearly. Dozens of shots tore through the flesh and muscle in it, shattering bone and spraying blood everywhere, but the slayer was running on pure adrenalin by this point.
Both Buffy and Faith hit the ground, the latter on top, trying to hold the blond in place. "Get the fuck out of here!" Faith was yelling to the police. "I can't hold her for much longer! I can't-"
A loud crack sounded as the butt of an officer's rifle cold-cocked the side of Faith's head. Stunned, the slayer could only watch in growing horror as several guns were trained on her. One of the cops was even helping the demon to her feet.
"Is she a...demon?" the cop asked. He had never seen one before so he was a bit shaken up.
Now nothing made sense to Faith. The girl wasn't attacking the police, she was being treated like a criminal, and they thought she was the demon? Faith desperately wanted to say something, but the haziness in her head was making that difficult.
Buffy was silent for a few moments as she weighed her options. "...I don't think she is. She's breathing, so that means she's not a vampire, and her blood is red. That takes out most of the local demon types that I know about." Yes, the girl wasn't a demon at all. "Take her to the hospital before she bleeds to death, I'll find someone to get to the bottom of this."
When the order was given, a team of paramedics was allowed up to the roof with a stretcher. They slipped a neck brace onto Faith and lifted her up to the stretcher. Distantly, Faith could hear them talking about a concussion, but there was nothing the girl could do at this point. Instead, she kept watching the blond demon hovering on the edge of her vision. When the medics stuck a needle in her arm, Faith could feel what little bit of consciousness she had left fading away. Before everything was up, though, she reached out with her good arm and caught the hem of Buffy's jacket. "W...we ain't..d-done..."
The blond lightly unclasped Faith's hand and folded over the unconscious girl's chest. "Somehow I get the feeling we never will be," Buffy mumbled. She licked her lips a few times to get them moist and was happy to taste a little bit of her bourbon still on them.
"Miss, do you need a handkerchief?"
The blond turned with an odd expression, her tongue still idly licking away. "Hmm? Why do I need one?" She was even more confused when the officer made a face that was somewhere between disgusted and terrified. "What is it?" she asked, growing annoyed.
"To...to wipe off that girl's blood...it is...was...all over your face." Buffy abruptly stop enjoying herself and her eyes widened so much they threatened to split her skin. That had been...blood? It didn't taste like blood...
That can't be a good sign...