Chapter 6: "You eat with that mouth, kid?"
The Dream was always the same. Somehow she knew that, even though she'd never had it before. They were trying to hold the Gates of Hell, keep them from opening. Make sure the damned civvies made it clear before all freaking Hell broke loose, 'cause the demons were coming. Millions of them: a crawling, hopping, leaping, slithering, snarling tide of them, all fangs and slobber and pustulant skin. Bodies were packed too tightly, people trampling each other in their rush to get clear before It opened.
Everyone she'd ever known was there. She saw Xander, off to one side, an axe in one hand and a short sword in the other, chopping down at a thing with too many eyes, and tentacles. He freaking glowed - shining with something she'd only dimly recognized in him before. Pure intent, pure will. Nothing was going to get past him to harm those who's fight this wasn't: not even through death. Battered armor and more battered flesh, all too mortal, beneath it. He flashed her that lopsided grin, and then turned to hack again. Rona and Vi stood shoulder to shoulder with him, dealing Death to the undying.
She saw her mom in the crowd, swept away by pressing bodies. And there was B - Scythe flashing as she danced that whirling swirling dance of death she always did so well. Tiny blonde that had the monsters slavering to rush to the blade, because they couldn't, wouldn't believe that anything that small could be dangerous. QueenC, frowning with a cute pair of horns over her face, smashing down hellspawn right and left with a metal yardstick and a constant stream of invective at them for having the nerve of splattering her designer outfit with gore.
Slashed through a pit fiend and came to face with a visage she didn't recognize.. then did, kinda, suddenly and gasped, frozen. Brown hair, golden highlights. Shocked look back. And no time to ask, never any time, because they were coming, still coming - and if she stood here gaping like an idiot, she was going to die and everything died with her. Then combat swirled around and over her and the moment was lost...
Crowding the gates there was a screaming wave of hellspawn. Some of them cute little Disney devils, some of them straight out of the minds of Bosch and Geiger. The others were slowly, groaningly pushing closed the gates, against massive resistance too great for mortal strength to overcome. If only she and those like her could hold the line, keep the gibbering hordes from slashing them down as they shoved and groaned and died with the strain. She had curved blades in her hands that felt like extensions of her soul, and blood was deep around her. Blade and Whistler and King helping to close the line, Hannibal screaming a non-stop litany of "Fuck fuck fuck fuck ME! Game fucking Over!"
And there was Spike now, blazing so bright Faith couldn't look, burning away the lines of spawn around her. Trying to get to the gates to help push. A blue woman at his side, dealing death with an icy reptilian casualness. Angel somewhere else, she could feel him: full game face and laughing as he rended and tore, and was torn in turn. Joyce, with a skillet, and a grim 'Mom' look. Wesley, a bloody hole in his gut and blood at his mouth, blasting Fantasia demons with a Spas-12. Some kid, sandy hair, cocky as he swung a sword with restless abandon.
The crowd was thinning, trailing off as the normals made their escape, leaving those like her alone to buy them time with lives and blood, dearly, gladly spent. She had no idea who'd made it away... could only kill and pray: please gods, let it be my friends, my children, my loved ones. Let my life be enough.
Occurs that she could be making sure of their escape, clearing the path for them. Who the hell made it her place to be here?
Could hear C's voice in her mind from the other night's dream, as clear as bells, even though she could see her over over there, going under to a wave of goblins, far fewer after than before they took her. "You did. You grasped the Fire, Slayer. The fucking Chosen One. YOU chose this: to stand in the way of the Darkness, and gift it with Death."
She's standing before Faith now, glowing, looking not at all like she'd just been swept under and torn apart. Eyes full of compassion and Something Else, focused on Faith. "Who the hell else you gonna call?"
Beyond her, a truly odd company: a tall, Tall man, huge, and laughing, with a sword as tall as he is slicing his way to the windlass of the Gates. Clearing a Way. A dwarf, broad and amiable looking, but nothing amiable about that axe that cuts through hellspawn like a laser, and that rock solid arm that catches Xan under the shoulder as he falls and hauls him back to his feet effortlessly like a 200lb child. An elf, golden haired and and graceful with a bow that moves about like it has eyes of its own, firing endlessly. A woman, dark hair, leather pants, balls of light in her hands, melting whatever came near.
And a big man, far too graceful and quick for someone his size. Not as tall as the other, smoking pistol in one hand and sword in the other. Laughing eyes, and a smirk that implies that there just can't be anything really wrong with a situation that he's a part of. She wants to belt him, instantly. He looks over at her, grinning. "Who the hell else, indeed?" He jerks his head towards the Gate that won't stay closed, won't shut, and the whole fucking World will die if it opens completely. "Looks like you found us some work of noble note, damned straight." Looks at the Gate and sighs, heavily, like he's Been There and Done That and is exasperated as Hell that it didn't stay Done. She knows the damned feeling.
"Don't know who the hell you are, or why you called us, Lady - but you can give a hand with this."
Her, give Him a hand? She'd tell him to bugger off to Hell, but it looks like they'd already done that thing.
"Shine in use or rust unburnished, kiddo. What'll it be?" He blew her a raspberry at her expression. "We're going to close this thing. You with?"
She stepped on a slice of cheese and woke up.
"Call Ghostbusters, stat..." She mumbled, fighting her way out of a smothering mass of blanket and pillow. "HUH? WTF, over?" Looked around, wild eyed. "Oh, fuck. Right. Slay Dream. Jeez."
She decided then and there that if she ever got her hands on one of the Powers That Say Fuck All Clearly, what happened next was going to involve a gasoline powered blender and habanero juice. She rustled around for some clothes. That's the damned thing about prophetic dreams, she groused. They don't tell you shit, you wake up tired, and having to pee real bad.
"Crap." Ok, so that was a weird one. She couldn't begin to interpret it, so she concentrated instead on fixing it in her mind, going over and over it, recalling every detail and straining for glimpses of things she hadn't paid enough conscious attention to while she was in it. Setting it in place so she'd be able to describe it to Wes later when she called him.
'Watcher Man'. Ok, now there was a laugh for you. If you were into sour humour and 'jokes on me' irony. Whod've figured that someone she'd enthusiastically practiced the 'five major torture groups' on would be the first she'd call when she had something like this to unravel? That he'd even talk to her, rather than immediately head to NJ to shoot her the fuck out of hand? 'But I was sick!' in a high small squeaky voice wasn't an excuse, wasn't a defense, wasn't anything but a cop out - and both he and she'd have known it if she'd ever been idiot enough to try that one out. Truth or not.
Instead, she'd been one of the first people he'd come to when hellgod-possessed Cordy'd unleashed Angelus on a rain-of-fire soaked LA. And she'd broken out of prison on his bare statement without a thought, without hesitation, without a pause. As he'd known she would. And laid her life, soul, and sanity on the line backing him up and risking all of the hard-won progress she'd made to bring back the man who'd flatly refused to let her commit suicide-by-vampire in a fit of rage, grief, and self hatred. As he'd known she would. And when the fuck had he learned to know her better than she knew herself, anyway?
When daddy's prissy little British prat walked through the fires of hell and friendship, maybe, and came out the other side of it a hellofa large man and with the kind of steel they don't put into you in prep school? Or maybe just desperation, because he'd known she was the only one he knew who could match Angelus dark-for-dark with a laugh, and because she owed Angel, owed both of them. Or both: the Wesley of Sunnyhell wouldn't have had the balls and insight to make that call and pull it off. The Faith of Sunnyhell wouldn't have given a shit.
Didn't explain why later when it was done, and she called, he was there with an easy laugh and an easy concern and a complete lack of judgment or reproach in his voice. She couldn't have done it, she knew: she figured she'd be inclined to take a spot of the 'hot, sharp, and cold groups' a bit personal like. For a long time after, and not forgotten or forgiven.
She made a face in the mirror. Hated introspection, anyway, dammit. If home is where when you go there, they have to take you in... your mind is where when you go there, you can't get the fuck out.
Fuck it. Coffee, food, action. This wasn't gettin' nowhere fast.
Coffee was easy. King had the everful pot going and was kicked back with his feet up watching the news - on multiple channels, multiple screens. And content to say "Hi" with a grunt and a casual wave of a mug to the pot rather than inane conversation. Food was almost as easy: someone'd gone out at some point and stocked the fridge with a wide selection of sliced deli meats and cheese, cupboard with breads, and counter with an array of pastry boxes. She made herself a thick Dagwood with a topping of horseradish and hot sauce and wandered back in to assassinate the clock for a bit while it vaporised. Early afternoon by the clock.
Stretch, workout, sluice off settled the meat and left her loose and restless: a bored predator with energy to burn and nothin' but nothin' to do. At least with it being set up for Blade and all, the gym's weight machines and free weights were actually massive enough to give her something to strain against, rather than just mark time. She kinda enjoyed that.
Mid/late afternoon, she'd finished another dagwoody, polished and brightened the edges of every piece of steel she owned, checked over her bike - twice - and started and stopped working on book three of Longyear's Infinity Hold series. Good book, but it couldn't, didn't, grab hold of her when she was like this. She had real people that were looking to die on her if she couldn't work this out - imaginary ones, no matter how personable, couldn't get a grip on her. She muttered an apology to Bando Nicos, shoved him in a pocket of her bag, and got up to pace for the umpteenth time.
Restless, confused, and bored makes for a irritable Faith, and an irritable Faith is annoying. She'd started marking time by Hannibal's muttering wince every time she'd yet again pick up some piece of equipment, turn it over in her hands unseeing, and put it back down somewhere else. She was kind of amazed he hadn't slapped her hands yet. She gave it maybe another 30 minutes before he forgot she could bend steel bars, snapped, and treated her like a hyperactive four year old. She was kind of looking forward to it. Blade was ignoring them both. Imperturbable, immersed in screens on one of the computers. Probably downloading zombie porn.
"Will. You. Please. STOP rearranging the firearms and settle down somewhere?! Jeeze!" Hannibal's glare could give thermite a run for its money. "I am NEVER having kids."
27 minutes on the dot. Close enough. Snicker.
"Can be arranged?" There was just enough amusement in her voice to let him know the 'Bored now. Yellow Alert.' tone was joking. Mostly.
snort "That'd almost be a blessing if I thought they'd grow up like you."
"Who says I'm growed up?" She batted her eyelashes at him, leaning forward on the counter across from him.
ahem "Sorry? Lost my train of thought for a minute. What?"
She smirked. "Not lost. Derailed." She made a chalk mark motion with her hand. "Yes! Still got it!"
"Why yes, you do. Both of them." He grinned.
"Didn't realize you'd noticed."
"Distracted. Not dead."
"Sorry." She shrugged. "Bored."
"No. Really?!"
She swatted him on the arm, not hard enough to leave a bruise. "Schmuck."
She stood up again, ignoring King's 'here we go again' eye roll "Yo, Blade?" He rumbled something without turning his head.
"I need to go out for awhile, do some shit." She made a vague gesture around the room. "Before I end up bending or breaking King here."
Without even turning around or slowing the muted clatter of keys, came: "Break away. No big loss."
"Hey!"
Ignoring Hannibal. Pause, "No, I mean: 'Am going. You mind?'"
He swiveled his chair around slowly, steepled his fingers, regarded her over them for a long few minutes. "Said yesterday. Not kidnapped. Don't need my permission" Waited til she acknowledged it with a short nod. "But... " He motioned her over to the console.
She looked over his shoulder as he pulled up a map. "We're here. Back streets leading in, here, here, here. Main streets leading past, here. Waterfront here. Downtown this way. Card with number on table, memorize" Gave her a look. "Don't lead anything back. Call as you head in so we can check and see if you have ticks on you. Have fun. Don't die. Git."
She stepped back, grinned, clicked her heels together and snapped a salute. "Sir, yes Sir! Five-by-five sir! Getting now, Sir!"
Slayer hearing caught a barely perceptible "Not 'sir'. Work for a living" as he turned back to whatever he'd been doing and she laughed on the way out. Cool.
...
Hannibal watched her go with a bemused look and a shake of the head. He turned back to the others to see both of them watching him quietly with expectant looks. "What?!" he asked.
"Go ahead. Get it out of your system," Blade suggested. Abby smirked and started counting off on her fingers with an exaggerated 1... 2... 3... 4... 5... 6... display.
"Oh. Right," King rolled his eyes. "So this is basically where I jump up, waving my hands about and pace back and forth yelling about how we just let the potential psycho-chick - whom we don't even know much about - wander off with a map so she can lead her associates back to kill-or-capture us all and feed us to the bad guys. And go through the whole 'how the hell can you trust her so casually' bit at Blade while he sits there impervious making 'meaningful expressions' with eyebrows and shit. Right?"
Blade and Abby looked at each other, Blade with a mock astonished millimeter lift of an eyebrow.
"You think he's seen this episode already?" Blade asked her.
Abby nodded, looked back at King. "Pretty much."
"Yeah yeah, fuck you guys." Hannibal smirked. "It's no damned fun if it's predictable. Piss off."
"'Impervious'?" Blade frowned slightly at him.
"I know your damned words," King snorted. "I'm not nearly as dumb as I look." He ignored Abby's snort, "Ok, so... " He looked a pointed inquiry at the other two.
"I like her." Blade stated. Abby nodded.
King stared at him incredulously. "You? You don't like anyone."
"I like you," Blade rejoined.
King snickered, "Noo... you hate me. You just tolerate me."
"Well, that's true," Blade acknowledged. "But I've gotten used to you."
"You didn't have to agree so fast, dammit." Blade gave him a bland look with a hint of amusement, and King grinned and went on. "Ok, so, how do we know she's not a threat?"
"She's a threat. I just don't think she's a threat to us." Blade stated. Abby nodded, cautiously.
"And how do you know that? Dammit." King threw his hands up in the air, "I agree with you even. But - I'm not sure I want to risk Abby's life and yours on gut instinct and 'like'. So... how do you know, so emphatically?"
"I talked to her. Abby talked to her." Blade studied his hands. "I talked to Abby."
Hannibal gave him an incredulous look, "YOU talked to her? Mister 'never use a word when a eyelid twitch will do'? Wow."
"I even used words and shit." Blade settled into his recliner and crossed his arms, lowering his eyelids. "You should try it sometime."
"The mind boggles. Did you get that on film?" King smirked, "Hey - I talk to people!"
"No," Blade countered. "You talk at people. You poke at them with sarcasm and jokes and make them react. And then when they react, you watch and measure. Not the same."
"It works," King snorted. "Yeah... ok. Point." He spread his hands, "Look: we know from checking into her she's had a rough time of it. I sympathize even... gods know Abby and I have reason to empathize. But - she works for a group that we don't know much about. She's connected with the head of the LA branch of Wolfram & Hart, pretty heavy bad guys from all available data. Group she works for recruits young girls with special abilities and trains them in private academies." He glanced at Abby, then met Blade's eyes carefully.
"Worked for," Abby put in. "You recall when we were talking earlier."
Hannibal made a gesture, "Wouldn't be the first time an operative was 'fired' to place them somewhere else." Abby nodded.
"My instincts about people are good. They have to be," Blade put in. "She says she's not interested in her former associates knowing about us, especially not by way of her. My instincts say she's telling the truth." He paused, sipped from his beer. "I think she's running from them."
"I think so too," Abby said. "I don't get the impression they really like her wandering around as a loose cannon after parting in a bad scene, from what we've gathered."
"So she's on the level, and her friends come looking and we get caught in the middle." Hannibal stated, "Not seeing a big difference."
"Then we deal with it," Blade shrugged slightly. "What do you want to do, drown her in the bathtub and toss her remains on the street?"
"No." King made a face, "Besides... she might be able to kick our asses." He grinned. "Ok, so what do you think about all of this 'slayer' crap?"
Blade raised an eyebrow. "It fits. I've heard the legends. Myths."
Abby gave him an inquiring look and he continued, "Into each generation, a Slayer is born. May not put her on our side, or make her a 'good guy', but it puts her on the same side of the war."
"So you buy all the mystical garbage she spouted? 'Thing the Darkness Fears'?" Hannibal grinned. "Tooth Faerie next?"
"She bends steel bull-barrels." Blade looked at him. "She can match me going full out in hand-to-hand. She can take a punch from me that would kill you and bounce back." he added, "Heh. Dhampir, vampires, Dagon, Bloodpack... Is mystical garbage that far out?" He smiled slightly, "Daywalker: the darkness fears me, too."
Hannibal smirked, "Yeah, but but but... at least you're not Evil!!" He laughed at Blade's eye roll-and-growl, exchanged high-five motions with Abby.
"Sure you're not just still pissed she made you step back when you snarked at her, King?" Abby snickered. King stuck his tongue out and grinned. "I agree. She's stronger and faster than me. She adjusts almost instantly to techniques and styles in a fight, without even realizing she's doing it consciously, I think." She paused, "And I don't think she's interested in hurting us. My instincts."
"And you're possibly even less trusting than Blade," Hannibal said. "So, check and double check." He spread his hands and threw them up. "And I like her too. She's funny, tough, and she's got that 'I just know you're going to kick me so get it over with now' look in the back of the eyes that makes me want to punch out a lot of people. Every time she refers to herself, almost, it's a slam."
"Yeah... " Abby made a face. "And I don't think she uses that to get in with people, like a con would. She uses it to push them away."
Hannibal snorted, "So we're all insane together. I feel so much better now."
"What now?" Abby looked at Blade.
He shrugged microscopically, "Wait. Watch. Get to know her better." Paused, "And if we're wrong, we deal with it."
...
Had been heading first to a mall, but spotted a Wally World along the way and hit it instead. It'd do. Short chunk of cash later netted her a flip-style TracFone and a year subscription card, double minutes, and enough time in the bottle to keep her going for awhile. Got it set up, and registered, and put the battery back into her council phone to kill a bit of time while it activated and registered the added time. Checked her missed calls and messages.
Hrrmmm... That's interesting. That can wait a bit. THAT one can wait for-ever as far as she cared. Ok: Wes or... ah. Two birds, one rock. Picked W&H's number off the contact list.
"Wolfram & Hart, how can I direct your call?"
"Yo, Harm. Lorne there?"
"Faith!" She pulled away from the phone and the ear splitting squeal. "I'll put you through."
"Yeah, thanks... and Harm: bit less THX there. The Audience is deafened and I want to use that ear again some day, k?"
"Well, sorry, jeeze." There were a few clicks followed by a short pause and some 'on-hold' crap vaguely resembling music.
"Faithy! Heya there, sweet cakes, how ya doin'?"
"Making it. Kinda." She paused, "Did you talk to Wes any?"
"No. Well, he said you called, no details. But I do know that him and the Fredlets have been locked into the musty books and the computers since before-crack-o-dawn early this morning."
She made an exasperated noise. "Jeeze. Told him to get some sleep."
"Ha ha. I'm not even going to dignify that with a response, babycakes." She heard the green demon snort on the other end. "You call out of the blue, have problem, and think Wes is going to leave you on hold and go saw logs? Get real."
"Thought 'no details', huh."
She could actually hear the eye roll "They've been at the research thingy since before dawn. And I heard your voice when I picked up. Hello? Green, anagogic, not retarded."
"Ah. Right." Just to screw with him, she let herself sound dubious at the 'not retarded' comment and grinned. "Got any contacts in New Jersey? I need a major demon bar or three to troll, and a name or two."
"Oh jeeze, wouldn't be caught turned in Jersey, so not many. Can give you a couple, and a name, maybe. If he's still around." He sounded thoughtful, "Before I do, sing a bit."
"Oh lord."
"Ah ah ah! No singy, no namey." He ignored her muttered 'dick', and said "Quid pro quo, kiddo."
sigh "Your ears, don't blame me." She started humming a bit to ease into the first thing that came to mind:
"You and me we're goin' nowhere, baby...
Running in circles back around to our pasts.
You and me - we're goin' nowhere's slowly,
When we should be goin' nowhere fast!
Baby you know we should be goin'
Nowhere fast!"
"Wow. You know, you're not too damn' bad when you pick something in your register, sweet thing."
"Jeeze. You made me sing just so you could crit my dulcet tones?"
"'Dulcet tones'? Ok... where is the real Faith and what have you done with her?"
"Ha ha. I read a book. Honest."
snicker "I believe it. Ok... hrrmm."
"Hrrm is bad. I'm not going to like 'hrrmmm'."
"No no, nothing like that. Well... " Short pause, and then he said, "I'll grab Angel, and we can be there in about 10 hours, maybe less."
"Jeeze! No! Dammit." She made her voice turn mean, so it wouldn't come out as scared as the sick feeling in her gut. "No, dammit. Just tell me what the hell you saw, alright? Don't need a hand holding, and ain't dragging you guys in. Final. End of story. End discussion. Christ."
"ok." Definitely a dubious sound there. Not good. "Apocalypse season's early this year, sweet cakes"
"Gee, I figured that out already."
"Hold on. This isn't an exact science, y'know." She could hear him gathering his thoughts, sorting out whatever he'd gotten by whatever means he did that thing. "You'll make it, if you're in time. Otherwise, no point - no one makes it. What you hate is what you need for this. Good song choice: both your past and present have keys in them. Don't play the game: kick over the table. Don't let the game play you. Not all of what you need is outside of you; you've already mostly got it. You're both Dreamer and Dream." He ran down after that, then lost the vague tone to his voice and came back to his normal, upbeat tone. "Anything there?"
"Wow. Cryptic, much?" Her voice was absent: she was running that through her mind, fixing it there.
"Hey. Just the messenger. I don't get the mail, I deliver it." He had that tone that suggested he was still seriously considering grabbing the AI crew and heading out. Freaking heroes.
"K. Stay there. I'll shout if I need you guys. Can you put me to Wes?" He gave her a couple of addresses and names, and then clicked her over, saying 'Take care of yourself, girl.' She gave Wes the dream details and the reading, and when he said they hadn't dug up anything yet, said she'd be back in touch, absently and broke the connection, still worrying at Lorne's wordings. "Fuck."
She was still thinking things through when she kicked the bike into gear and rode off, wandering aimlessly enjoying the rumble of power between her legs and the crisp air in her teeth. Waiting for dark. Killing time until killing time. Making a decision, she pulled into a diner and found a booth at the back: ordered coffee and burgers from the tired looking waitress. Pulled out her phone again and returned the earliest of the missed calls in the log. At least it was the least objectionable one.
Distracted voice on the other end. "Hello... ?"
"Little-D. Me. What'd you want?"
"Hey! Faith! Umm.. gimme a second here... " She heard papers rustling and keys clicking, breathing and muttering sounds. "Cool! Umm. I talked to Giles. And Vi... "
"Right. Yeah. And immediately shot me a call to make sure I'm ok and not gone suicide-slayer?"
Snort. "No. Know you're ok. You're an alley cat. You land on your feet and dust off." She heard the girl switch hands with the phone, and getting comfortable.
Snort back. "Yeah?"
Giggle. "Hell yeah. Bets that you a) rode out, b) moped, c) got drunk and maybe tore up a bar or two, d) went out and killed every vamp and demon stupid enough to cross your path, e) turned up on the porch of someone you know and they took you in, let you sleep it off, fed you. And now you're pissed, hurt, and shaking it off and figuring out 'what next?' Am I right?"
Heh. "Close enough." She paused. "Not mad? And how'd you figure that out?" She dug into her food while listening.
"Duh. Genius, remember?" There was a pause and a sigh. "Not mad. I figured you'd deck that slick asshole and walk before now. Just... kinda annoyed that it happened over this. Really didn't need to find out we got that blindsided."
Faith groaned. "Jeeze. Did everyone know Robin was a loser but me?" And, "Yeah. That kinda surprised me too."
"No. Only the people with like, eyes, who gave a shit. Me, Xan, Vi... " She groaned. "We kind of missed the, how'd you put it... 'fucking short eyes' thing completely though. Jeeze."
"You eat with that mouth, kid?" She ignored the vocal eye roll, "Xan didn't."
"'One Who Sees'. And we should have listened to him. Not let Buffy, Kennedy, and Willow run with the freaking and push him out to Africa." Dawn made a disgusted noise and a sigh, "Ah well. Water gone down da hole."
"Yeah, well, best put in a plug." She considered for a moment, "And... 'who gave a shit'? Like, when did you and I become buds, Dawnie?" Honestly curious.
"Huh. Maybe on that long bus ride from Sunnyhole when you and I were the only ones functioning and talking? Or maybe in LA when Buffy was spazzed over Spike, Xan was depressed over Anya, Giles and Andrew were going all PTSD along with the mini-Slays? Or later when I noticed I was the only one you kept in touch with for more than just your 'Yo, mini-slay found/inbound, demon dead, next?' sitreps? Seems to of happened though." Dawn sounded a bit surprised too. "Or at least, possibilities there, huh."
"Yeah. Maybe. Anyway... so, why did you call?" Faith decided she really didn't need to do bonding stuff at the moment. She needed slayer mode for what was next, time to cut to the chase. She was all too aware the clocks were ticking...
"Ah. Yeah." Dawn suddenly got real quiet, and still. "Had a dream. Vi had it also. You were in it."
"Oh shit." Suddenly wide awake and tingling in a Bad Thing way. "Let me guess: huge hole, demonic city, feeling of impending doom? Or: hordes of demons, people fleeing, gates of hell?" Shit!
"Kind of a combination of the two? And a lot of people I didn't recognize. Think Vi had the latter one." Dawn's voice got very small. "What the hell are you into, Faith?"
"Usual. End of the World. Mr. Staypuff. Dogs and cats, living together. A catastrophe of Biblical proportions. Same shit, different day."
There was a choking splutter from the other side. "Damn you for making me laugh. Now I have cappuccino all over this shirt."
"Heh. Score!" Faith's voice got serious. She made it hard, cold. "Look, Little-D. Why I called. Listen up. You: Do. NOT. come to New York. Don't come anywhere near this coast. Stay on the other side of the pond. Australia, maybe. Outer space. Watch your ass. Don't get into cars with strangers. Don't get kidnapped. Don't die. Heart attack serious: don't blow me off. Don't give me a bunch of 'I'm all growed up now and and' crap. L-man had a reading. There was mention of a Key in it."
"oh." D's voice got very small then.
"Yeah." Faith's voice got gentler. "Hell with B's 'little sis' paranoia. This is my instincts talking. We'll settle the 'friend/not-friend' thing later, but you are not going to get your ass killed on me. And you are not going to be used to kick off Hellmouthzilla. Ain't happening. Got me?"
"Yeah. Ummm... should I round up the big guns?"
"No." She sighed. "Not playing lone wolf here. Got the Dreams and the warning. Was told this one was mine, no uncertains. And I got backup for it." She smiled. "Already had this convo with the Fang-gang. Gettin' old." Pause... "I will talk to Vi. She needs to know if her backyard's about to blow, just in case."
sigh "Ok. Dammit. Who am I to argue with the PTB?" grumble "Do let me know if you need anything, right?"
"Hrmm. Research, if you can do it on the QT, keep it from from B and the crew?" She hated even asking that.
"No probs. Call me." Small laugh, "Y'know... You do 'Command Voice' pretty well."
Faith snickered and broke the connection.
Darker now. Time to go kill shit and break things. She threw money on the table and stalked out.