A/N: I've had quite a few inquiries about when I'm going to quit stalling and spill the beans on Buffy's undead exes already. I'm going to (honest) but it might take a bit. I promise I've got it all planned out (shrugs sheepishly).
Big thanks and hugs to everyone who has reviewed and/or favorited this story. It's incredibly humbling and it really keeps me going. Also a big thanks to my beta isugirl.
The chapter title (Double Vision) is a Foreigner song from the album of the same name, 1978.
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Chapter 12 – Double Vision
Buffy had brought Dean along with her while she shopped for a new coffee table to replace the one those ugly, midget trolls had demolished. She was afraid he'd end up being miserable, but he actually seemed reluctant to leave the retail excursion behind. Of course, that was only because he'd discovered the joys of the vibrating massage chair the furniture store sold. He was in heaven and by the time she'd finished paying for her new table and arranging for delivery, he was also sound asleep.
"You sure you're done?" Dean asked with a yawn, his eyes at half-mast. "Cause if you wanna shop some more 'm good."
Buffy's face fell in disappointment. "Just my luck. You're actually offering to hang while I shop and I can't take you up on it, because it's starting to get dark out," she whined. "Happy, fun, shopping time is over and I didn't even get a chance to look at anything good. Furniture is boring, I need a shiny shoe fix."
Dean groaned and stretched before slowly hauling himself to his feet. He decided it was probably wise not to comment on Buffy's alleged 'need' for more shoes.
"Please tell me you bought this chair?" he asked hopefully.
"Sorry sweetie," she replied with fake sympathy and a pat to his back. "I don't think there's room in our relationship for the both of us."
"Don't be jealous," he teased. "I still need you. She doesn't give happy endings."
Buffy shook her head. "And the fact that you've actually given the chair a gender doesn't give me pause at all."
"Well, I sure as hell don't wanna sit on some dude and have him vibrate and rub on me," he remarked with a grin as he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. "So, what's the damage?" he asked.
Buffy glared at Dean and set her jaw stubbornly. She'd already told him she wasn't taking any more money from him unless he allowed Giles to pay him. She had tried to be patient with his bullheadedness, but recently Sam had clued her in on how dangerous hustling could be and how incredibly stupid it was to do it without backup. According to him, both of the Winchesters had been in more than a few scrapes with sore losers over the years. Her favorite highlight was the time Dean got jumped by a group of outlaw bikers and ended up severely beaten (as in multiple broken bones and contusions beaten) and then dumped unconscious at the ER by some random stranger. So, needless to say, she was done supporting this particular brand of lunacy. It wasn't like he didn't already have an extremely stressful job that placed his life in danger every single night; there was no need to invite rowdy drunks to the party.
"I'm not telling you," she stated flatly before opening the door to the sidewalk a little too forcefully, causing it to make a loud bang against its frame.
Dean shoved a stack of bills into Buffy's open purse. "Fine," he shrugged, "you're taking this anyway." He seemed completely undeterred by her obvious irritation. In fact, he looked a little smug and satisfied with himself.
Buffy crinkled her brow in anger and had opened her mouth to let him have it when she spotted Faith walking up the sidewalk toward them.
"Hey Buffy," she greeted enthusiastically as she hugged her tightly around the neck and kissed her on the side of the head.
Buffy was a little surprised by this. The other Slayer wasn't normally that openly affectionate. "Wow Faith," she remarked. "What's the occasion? You even called me by my given name."
The brunette looked self-conscious for a brief moment. "Just glad to see ya," she shrugged.
Buffy smiled and shook her head curiously at her friend. "Ok then. I'm glad to see you too. So, are you out shopping?" she asked.
Before Faith could reply, Buffy's cell started ringing.
"It's Giles," she groaned. "Guess I better answer. Give me a minute," she said to Faith as she stepped a few feet away to take the call.
After Buffy had walked away, Faith turned her attention to Dean and gave him a very friendly smile (a little too friendly if you asked him).
He raised an eyebrow at her. "So, have you seen my brother around lately?" he asked.
"Your brother…" she stated thoughtfully, sounding almost like this was news to her. "You mean Sam?"
Dean looked at her like she'd been drinking. "Uh, yeah."
"Sorry," she replied with an awkward laugh. "My mind's somewhere else today."
"Obviously."
Dean felt distinctly uncomfortable when Faith took a long moment to allow her eyes to leisurely and appreciatively travel up and down his frame. "It's funny you mentioned your brother," she remarked finally. "We had a little discussion about you and Buffy last night. We were thinkin' it would be pretty hot if the four of us got together. Ya know… privately," she added as she licked her lips.
Dean just stared at her with an open mouth, thinking he must be imagining things, because she couldn't be suggesting what he thought she was suggesting. Please God No! Unfortunately, all doubt was erased from his mind when she placed a hand on his shoulder, put her lips against his ear, and traumatized him for life with a graphic description of exactly what the four of them could do together. The parts Sam had supposedly added were particularly horrifying. He'd never, ever be able to get the picture of his brother in that particular position out of his mind…never. He felt like poring bleach in his ears.
"Think about it," she said as she pulled away from him. "Sam's obviously in. So, you two just say the word and it's on."
Dean was way beyond coherent speech at that point, so he didn't even bother trying to reply as she winked at him and patted him on the cheek before quickly disappearing down the street.
"Where did Faith go?" Buffy asked a minute later as she stepped up beside Dean.
"Places to go, I guess," he replied in a distracted tone.
Buffy studied Dean curiously. He didn't look right. His eyes were wide and his face was pale, causing his freckles to stand out more than usual. Something had definitely freaked him out, because he looked like he'd just seen a ghost. Since Buffy knew he wasn't particularly afraid of ghosts, she was guessing it was something else. So, between Giles' latest agitated phone call and Dean's spooked expression, she reluctantly decided to put aside their preempted money argument until later. She could always slip the money back in his wallet when he wasn't looking. If he could be childish, then so could she.
"What's wrong?" she asked.
"Nothing," he answered quickly.
"Right," she replied skeptically. "Because I've seen your nothing face and that's not it."
"Trust me," he said. "You don't wanna know."
"Was it Faith?"
"She—," he began before shaking his head. "Just, never mind. What did Giles want?"
Buffy gazed at him a moment with raised eyebrows before replying to his deliberately subject-changing question.
"You know how the girls have been freaking out lately? Well – buy your tickets - because apparently it's even zanier than ever and now they've added slapstick for that special kind of fun. It's a full scale mini-Slayer meltdown. They're all trying to scratch each other's eyes out. Even Vi and Rona are acting wiggy. I guess we better drop by there, because I might have to commit some murder before I go slaying."
"Can I watch?" he asked with a grin. "Cause cat fights are hot." Besides, he desperately needed some new imagery at the moment.
"Sorry, no lingerie-clad pillow fights," she replied dryly. "There will be no hotness, unless you're a fan of ugly, ugly death. I'm telling you, I'm so beyond tired of all of the schoolgirl drama. If I hear one more word about people spreading rumors or telling secrets or stealing favorite hair scrunchies or anything else earth shattering like that … I'm going to scalp someone… with a spoon. A dirty, rusty spoon."
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As Buffy and Dean walked through the main doors of the Council, Rona slammed right into Buffy. She obviously couldn't get out of the building fast enough and didn't care who she had to go through to do it.
"Rona?" Buffy asked with a surprised gasp.
"She can have them," she snapped, "because they don't pay me enough to put up with this crap!"
"Wait a second," Buffy pleaded, obviously trying hard to be patient. "What happened? Who can have what?"
"Vi happened," she stated venomously. "According to her, I don't pull my weight around here. 'I never help her with the girls'," she mimed in a whiney, nasally voice. "So you know what? I'll go on patrol, but I'm not lifting one pinky finger to help her with those brats. Then she'll see how lazy I am. They can shove their drama down her throat for a change!"
Buffy sighed in frustration. "Vi actually said that stuff to you?" she asked doubtfully.
Rona folded her arms in front of her and huffed. "She wasn't woman enough to say it to my face if that's what you're getting at. But, believe me, it came from a reliable source. So, don't try to put a spin on it," she added with a jab of her finger and then stormed away before Buffy could question her further.
"See?" she remarked to Dean in exasperation. "We're trapped in Bizarro World. Everybody's been replaced by their evil twin."
He just shook his head. He had no clue what to tell her to do with all those crazy-ass, super chicks. It might be time to consider calling in the National Guard. Maybe there really was some truth to that rumor about chicks that live together all going on the rag at the same time. The idea was downright terrifying.
"Sam," Buffy exclaimed when she saw the younger Winchester heading up the hall toward her. "What the hell's going on around here?"
Sam was clearly frustrated. He combed his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath before replying quickly. "Kellie supposedly told Ashley that Marci was a slut and Ashley borrowed Kim's iPod when they were out on patrol and didn't return it, but she swears she didn't. Should I go on?" he asked with a defeated sigh. "Or would you rather hear about the fist fight between Chelsea and Kaitlyn? Allie had to give them both stitches."
Buffy practically roared in rage. "Now I've heard enough! Those girls better be ready, because I'm headed their way just as soon as I find the right spoon."
Sam watched Buffy's furiously retreating form for a second. "What's up with the spoon?" he asked his brother.
Dean didn't reply. "Sam, we need to talk," he said seriously.
"About?"
"Look dude," he began, obviously uncomfortable with what he was about to say. "I know that people get into different things, but some things are just … well, they're just too different. For me anyway. But you do what you gotta do. I'm not judging. Just don't expect me to get involved and please don't tell me about it. You get me?"
"No Dean," Sam said slowly. "I don't get you."
Dean ran a hand down his face before clenching his fists in frustration. "Sam… the thing is… okay, you know I've done the threesome thing before and I'm down with kinky–"
"Whoa! Hold up. I don't really need-"
"But," Dean said loudly, cutting off his brother's attempt to interrupt, "I don't want another dude in the mix."
"Okaaay."
"I know some people do and fine, whatever, but that's just not my thing. Plus, Jesus Sam, I'm your brother! I know that Becky chick and some of those other whacked-out fan girls get off on…" he paused, he could not say the word 'incest' in this conversation. It was just too much. It would simply have to be implied. "Dude!" he finally exclaimed instead. "This is the real world, not the internet. You've got to draw a line somewhere."
"Dean, what the hell? Where did-"
Dean held up his hand. "I'm not talking about it," he stated firmly. "You'll always be my brother and I support you and all that other happy sappy crap, but no, I'm not going there. So, get your freak on whatever way you need to, but leave me out of it… and Buffy too," he added sternly.
"You know what?" Sam asked as he threw up his hands in exasperation. "That right there… whatever the hell that was… was the very last morsel of crazy I can swallow today. So, I'm leaving. In fact, I'm going to the most monster infested part of town I can find, because I'm pretty sure those guys will be more sane than anybody around here. Later!"
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If it weren't for the fact that that evil fuck, Crowley had her sister, the Shifter would be having fun. Messing with the Slayers was actually pretty entertaining. Humans were so pathetic and predictable. All of them were horribly insecure and easily manipulated. She only had to cherry pick a few secrets and half-truths out of their heads and then put a bug in the right ear. It was simple child's play and yet it caused so much hilarious discord and chaos. She'd even gotten the chance to practice her preferred craft, which was larceny. Of course, what she'd been doing could barely be considered more than petty theft. She'd been stealing gadgets and trinkets, baby stuff like that. She was a pro, but still, it was always a kick to go back and do the simple stuff for a change. Before this nightmare she'd found herself trapped in, she and her sister had been working high dollar jobs all over the continent for as far back as she could remember. Bank robbery was their favorite and most profitable gig. It was so ridiculously easy when you could look exactly like the bank president and be in two places at once.
Until now, she'd never considered herself a killer, not really. Sure, there had been some unavoidable incidents over the years, but it had never been her goal. Tonight it was more than a goal, it was a mission. She was furious that she'd been forced into this situation and someone was going to pay. Besides, as much as she hated and distrusted Crowley, the demon had been right about one thing – the Slayers were obsessed with killing Mother. Maybe she was working for the enemy, but she could, at least, get in a few good hits for her team. Besides, she may as well go all out because she knew Crowley wasn't going to let her and her sister live. She'd finally accepted that much. The best she could hope for was to go quickly and painlessly. So, she'd do what he wanted, get a little payback for Mother as a bonus, and more importantly, she'd get payback for her father. Her poor, sweet father, who she'd watched die a horrible death at the hands of that demon and it was all thanks to the sorry, lowlife hunters who'd handed them over to him.
All her life she'd feared hunters. She and her family were always trying to stay one step ahead of their silver bullets and blades. And who were they to judge her? It wasn't like she was any worse than a lot of human criminals. No, she was just better. Now, after what had happened to her father, she hated hunters even more than ever. She detested them almost as much as Crowley and she'd picked up enough from the Slayers' heads to realize that the 'boy toys' were hunters. Today, she'd found out that they were also brothers, which made her even more determined to make them pay. They would surely appreciate what it was like to watch a member of their own family suffer. If not, she'd find a way to make them appreciate it, especially since she could now get into the skin of the older one. But, she'd have to bide her time on that front. Crowley had made it clear that he was interested in the Slayers, particularly the lead bitch. So, to keep him happy, she had to be Buffy first.
Now that she was in Buffy's skin, the Shifter was on a little hunt of her own. From her psychic link to the bodies she borrowed, she knew all of the basic patrol routes. All she had to do was find one of the precious little baby Slayers and then she'd make her first strike. She hit pay dirt when she happened upon cute, little Kellie Chu. It seemed Buffy liked this one especially. She decided it was probably because the older girl felt a kinship to her. The teen was tiny like Buffy (a little smaller even) and she was also a California girl, who was obsessed with nice clothes and cute boys. Another bonus was that Kellie was bubbly, friendly, and very well liked in general. This meant that killing her would be an especially hard blow to the little Slayer clan. No one ever expects the sweet, peppy ones to get it.
"Hi Buffy," the young girl chirped in her cheery Valley Girl accent. She hoped Buffy wasn't still angry about the rumors she'd been accused of spreading. She looked up to the older Slayer and didn't want to disappoint her. Nobody else on earth could kick that much ass and still manage to look so stylish.
"Hi Kellie," the Shifter greeted behind the Slayer's annoyingly bright smile. "I like that braid," she remarked.
"Thank you," Kellie beamed happily. "I learned how to do it on the internet. There's this whole site that like teaches you all about how to do the coolest braids and stuff. It's so amazing! I could do yours sometimes if you want," she offered excitedly.
Shifter-Buffy walked behind the girl on the pretense of checking out her hair more closely. Then, she jerked the teen's head back by her shiny, black braid and slit her throat before the little idiot even knew what hit her. It was just way too easy. If they were all like this, she'd be able to pick them all off in no time at all.
Once she was sure the girl was dead and she'd left the chief Slayer a special message, Shifter-Buffy pulled the girl's cell phone out of her pocket and found the real Buffy on the speed dial. She didn't want to risk sending a message out on the radio, not while all the other Slayers were listening. She wanted to make sure that Buffy and only Buffy found little Kellie. That way the message would sting more deeply. The hunter's whore needed to see this for herself to fully appreciate it.
"Buffy," she said desperately when the Slayer answered (even though she was still in Buffy's body her voice was a perfect imitation of Kellie's). "I need you to come quick. I'm in an alley off of Patton. Please hurry," she begged with a choked sob before cutting the connection and casually dropping the phone onto the girl's lifeless body.
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The more Dean thought about it, the more ridiculous the things Faith had said seemed to him. There was no way Sam would have gone along with any of that. She was obviously just messing with his head… and damn had it worked. If she hadn't been so thorough in her descriptions, it might not have freaked him out so much, but that chick had one messed up and detailed imagination. She was way too much for Sammy. They needed to talk about how he'd better leave that crazy broad alone. He had to nip that entire situation right in the bud. Somebody like Faith was likely to go Glen Close on a guy's ass and the fact that she was also an insanely strong Slayer just made it even more disturbing.
Now that he'd cleared his head with a drive across town accompanied by the always soothing tones of AC/DC, Dean was ready to make some quick cash before he hit the streets. Thanks to those Oompa-Loompa Faerie bitches he was down to his last fifty bucks. So, he'd picked a rather rundown looking bar that had a half burned-out, neon sign advertising pool. The place didn't look too promising, but he hadn't hit it before so that made it attractive. He was secretly starting to consider the wisdom of allowing Giles to pay him. He couldn't hustle during the day for one thing; there wasn't any money to be made. The main problem with doing it at night, however, was that it cut into the job. The other problem was that there were only so many pool halls in Cleveland. He was going to run out of fresh blood eventually. Their dad had warned them to never use the same crapper twice (and no matter what Sam said, that saying made perfect sense).
He'd finally found out that his brother was taking the Council's money. Sam had told him during a particularly self-righteous lecture about Dean going out hustling alone. He'd apparently been prepared for him to go ape shit, but Dean hadn't. It was different for Sam, he wasn't living with the head Slayer and he put up with those whiny teenage girls all the time. Honestly though, Dean was finding himself getting more and more sucked into all of that drama and the reasonable part of him realized he didn't really have a good excuse anymore. Most importantly, he felt like he'd proved it to Buffy that he wasn't trying to get a free ride and he guessed she was right about the Council money not being her money. But the truth was, Dean Winchester was a very stubborn man and damn proud of it. The fact that Buffy and his brother had dared to team up on him to demand that he stop hustling, made him all the more determined to keep on doing it out of pure spite. Those two weren't going to force him to quit, even if it did make sense. Especially Sam. That kid was worse than any woman ever thought of being when it came to nagging. So, Dean would keep on hustling and gambling until he felt he'd made the point that the decision was his own. Of course, when he finally did end up getting outnumbered by a pissed-off mark's friends and got his ass handed to him, it was going to be pretty damn embarrassing. He could always blame a phantom gang of fake vampires though. They were everywhere, which made them convenient scapegoats in the case of any unexplained broken bones.
Dean was twenty dollars down and ready to make his move and start winning when his phone rang. It was Buffy, so he asked the guy he was playing to hold on a minute while he took the call.
When he answered, he immediately knew that something wasn't right. Buffy's voice was too flat and also undercut with a barely contained rage. Something had gone terribly wrong tonight.
"What happened?" he asked anxiously in response to her request to come meet her.
"One of the girls," she replied distantly. She then took such a long pause that he wondered if she was going to say anything else. "It's Kellie," she finally said. "She's… I didn't make it in time. Just come, please."
Dean didn't try to get many more details from her, he figured he'd get the story when he got there and that was what he was concentrating on. The guy he'd been trying to hustle was smug and remarked that it was Dean's good luck that his 'old lady' had called him home before he could lose any more of his money. Dean vowed silently that he would come back some night and take this mook for every dime he had. Right now, however, it just wasn't important.
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Dean parked on the street and took off on foot to find the alley Buffy was supposed to be in. He could smell the distinct odor of human blood before he even rounded the corner. Instinctively, he pulled his pistol and kept it pointed at the ground as he walked.
Buffy was standing at the dead end with her back to him and didn't turn at the sound of his footsteps. He knew he'd been trained to be stealthy, but even so, there was no way he could sneak up on Buffy on a normal day. He said her name quietly to alert her to his presence. She turned briefly and then went back to apparently staring off into space. As he got closer, he saw the young girl's body lying on the pavement in the middle of a huge puddle of blood. He didn't have to see her lifeless eyes to know that there was no chance she was alive. The poor kid was gone. He quickly surveyed the scene, noting that this was no vamp kill or anything else that liked to feed on their victims. Her throat had been slit. It was deliberate and judging by the depth of the wound, it was overkill. To add insult to injury, the twisted freak that did this had also buried the kid's own stake in her heart.
When he looked up, Dean realized that Buffy wasn't staring into space after all. She was looking at the side of a dumpster where 'Hi Buffy' had been written in blood. The sick son of a bitch had even dotted the 'i' with a crudely drawn heart and added a smiley face. What the fuck?
Dean could tell by Buffy's stance that she was one wrong move away from flying into a violent rage. He'd been there enough times himself, hell he'd like to go there right now. He approached her cautiously, because he suspected that if he touched her, she'd punch him without even realizing what she was doing. That was fine if it made her feel better, but he couldn't risk getting knocked out right now. They needed to get the hell out of there. The smell of blood alone was liable to attract all sorts of nasty freaks, plus there was the fact that the incompetent shits at the Cleveland PD might haul them in for murder.
"Buffy," he said softly, trying to draw her attention.
"I guess we should have a plan for this sort of thing," she observed in an almost detached tone. "I mean," she shrugged, "I knew this would happen. After all, I signed their death warrants when I sent them out on their own."
"Don't stay stuff like that. It's not true," he said gently, holding out a hand out to her. "Just come with me. I'm going to get the car and then we'll get her out of here. Okay?"
Buffy shook her head. "No, she shouldn't be alone."
Dean stood uncertainly for a moment. He couldn't force her to come with him, but was hesitant to leave her here by herself, even if it was only for a minute or two. She was too distracted and he was afraid something could get the drop on her in this condition. He finally decided that the best course of action would be to hurry his ass up and go get the car, so he took off at a run.
He backed the Impala into the alley, so that he could make a quick escape if necessary. In the trunk, he knew there was a ratty old bedspread stolen from some flea bag motel he and Sam had once stayed at. So, he pulled it out and quickly spread it on the ground, careful to avoid the puddle of blood. He had to walk in in the puddle to retrieve the body, however. There was no getting around it, so he just did it and tried not to think about what was happening. Seeing a dead kid was always horrible, but when you'd seen that kid alive almost every day for months, he was discovering that it somehow managed to be even more horrible. So, he locked it all away and went on auto-pilot. Right now, he just had to do what he had to do and get them the hell out of there. He wouldn't allow his conscious mind to register the fact that she looked all of twelve, instead of the sixteen or seventeen he knew her to be and he completely ignored that her body felt like it weighed almost nothing and that he was about to wrap this little girl up in a threadbare blanket from a no-tell-motel. He just couldn't go there. He couldn't even acknowledge that she had a name.
Before folding the bedspread over her, he pulled out that obscene stake and closed the girl's vacant brown eyes. He mumbled a 'sorry kid' as he laid her shrouded body across the back seat.
Buffy observed the entire scene with a wide-eyed stare of disbelief. She then climbed into the passenger's seat and waited quietly for Dean to get in and get the engine started. As soon as he turned the key in the ignition, the classic radio station that was dialed-in started into the chorus of Van Morrison's 'Brown Eyed Girl'. Of freaking course that was what was playing, he thought bitterly as he quickly snapped off the volume. Whenever something horrible happened, he'd noticed that the radio suddenly seemed to have a really sick and twisted sense of humor.
Once he'd assured himself that they were in the clear and not being followed, Dean picked up the phone and quickly punched his brother's name.
"Yeah," Sam answered with a long-suffering sigh. He was clearly still irritated and not looking forward to another bizarre and confusing sex talk, meaning he was perfectly fine.
Dean felt a surge of relief. "Sam, some bad shit's gone down," he said with an uncertain glance toward Buffy. "I need you to watch your ass out there. Check in with everybody. Make sure they're all accounted for and on their toes. But…" he paused, "you won't be able to get… Kellie… and Buffy's with me."
"What do you mean, I 'won't be able to get Kellie'?"his brother asked with a hint of panic in his voice.
"I can't get into that right now," Dean replied gruffly. "Just, make sure everybody else is okay. I'll catch you up later."
"But Dean—"
"I don't know what happened Sam," he replied in anticipation to his brother's question. He knew he was being a little short, but he had a really full plate at the moment. He also realized that this was going to be hard on Sam, because he'd spent a lot of time with these girls and he knew his brother felt responsible for them. "I'm sorry man," he added more gently. "I'll call you back," he promised before ending the call.
Dean looked back over at Buffy after finishing his call with Sam. She was just staring out the passenger side window. He wasn't sure how to help her. 'Sorry' just didn't seem like an adequate word right now. Also, he felt certain that the rest of the night was going to be extremely long. Everyone would be looking to Buffy for answers and leadership. They'd want orders, they'd expect a plan. Like either one of them knew what the hell had just happened. She seemed to be psyching herself up in anticipation for it. All of her walls were up and he was sure they would crumble if he touched her. So, he decided to handle what he could for her and respect that she needed to keep it together for a while longer. That's what he'd want someone to do for him.
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Buffy had called Giles before they'd arrived back at the Council. She was matter-of-fact, yet clearly angry during the conversation. Some of the numbness appeared to be wearing off.
The Watcher was already out front waiting when they pulled in. He looked ruffled and grim with his uncombed hair and lined face. Dean was extremely grateful when he noticed that the man had a stretcher from the infirmary with him. Carrying the body on a stretcher would allow him to be a little more detached than he'd be if he had to hold the girl in his arms. Detached was good right now.
When he and Giles carried the body in, the halls were lined with the solemn faces of the fifteen virgins who weren't allowed to patrol. Since the dragon was gone, they were allowed to go out during the day, but patrol was still considered to be too risky. Dean was amazed at how fast news spread around there. Of course, that probably had a lot to do with Andrew, who was visibly crying and being practically held up by two of the young Slayers.
One girl asked Buffy a question and it was like somebody had suddenly opened the floodgates. Everyone started shouting questions at the same time, tears and anger in their voices. Dean found it impossible to separate one inquiry from the next, but the name 'Buffy' must have been repeated at least a thousand times. It was a freakin' nightmare. He knew these girls were upset, but he was ready to start throwing punches if they didn't back off and stop badgering her. Jesus! It was like some twisted parody of a parade as they carried the body to the infirmary.
Once they'd laid the girl's body to rest on one of the beds and returned to the hall, Giles attempted to call everyone to attention. They weren't listening to him, however, and if Dean heard the name 'Buffy' come out of one more mouth, he was going to start shooting. He started to say only God knows what when Buffy suddenly spoke up.
All of the girls quickly quieted down and turned their full attention toward her. This wasn't Buffy they were looking at, it was the Slayer. The girl had been pushed down and replaced by a deadly calm confidence. She was suddenly a military commander, promising swift retribution to the creature that'd caused this. The details she gave were limited, but she told the girls what they needed to know, which was that something was out there and it was out to assassinate Slayers.
When Buffy was finished, everyone was much more subdued and they allowed Andrew to usher them back toward the dorms, where they would inevitably be up all night talking and mourning. Dean was so relieved that was over, although he'd been highly impressed with the way Buffy had handled the situation. He was sure it was better than the profanity filled tirade he would have probably delivered if she hadn't spoken up first. Of course, she'd just have to do it again when the rest of the girls got in from patrol. He so badly just wanted to take her home and get her away from all these people, but he knew it couldn't happen. He'd just have to attempt to hold his temper and back her up in any way possible. He wished he could go hunt and kill whatever had done this, but he wasn't going to leave her here to face all the questions alone. Unfortunately, they had to do the tedious part of the job, which meant going over the evidence, doing the research, and coming up with an actual plan before they could start smashing heads.
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Faith had been working her usual routine, which consisted of slaying everything she could find as she made her way toward the general direction of wherever Sam was most likely to be. It was just a typical night. Then, she'd heard him on the radio and his voice sounded especially tense. He was checking-in with everyone, basically doing a roll call across the airwaves. He warned each of them to be extra alert. It didn't take a genius to realize that something had gone south. So, she pulled out her phone and called him. It turned out they were only a few blocks away from one another. They decided to meet in the middle so he could fill her in.
She was surprised when Buffy appeared from one of the side streets in front of her. Faith thought she was working the other end of town that night. Of course, if something hairy had gone down, her plans could have changed.
"Faith," she greeted with a friendly smile. "I'm so glad I ran into you."
"What's up B?" she asked a little distractedly. The scene seemed off. Judging from the sound of Sam's voice, something bad had gone down, but Buffy didn't appear too concerned. Maybe she hadn't been told, but then again, surely Buffy would be in the know. The street they were on was particularly dark, so she didn't notice the blood on the other Slayer's hands and clothes until they were very close.
"Damn!" she exclaimed. "That's an awful lot of blood."
"Don't worry," she replied with a nonchalant shrug. "It's not mine. I just ran into a messy kill."
Faith observed Buffy suspiciously for a moment, but was thrown off when her friend's shoulders suddenly began trembling with sobs. Whatever had happened, she'd apparently been thrown by it, which explained the loopy behavior.
"Oh God, B," she said, taking a step toward the other girl so that she could place a hand on her shoulder. "What's happened?"
It took a second for Faith's brain to admit that a knife had just been plunged deep into her gut. She attempted to push away with the hand she still had on Buffy's shoulder, but the girl twisted the blade and the searing pain made her powerless. She stared into her friend's eyes in utter hurt and disbelief.
Buffy smiled back at her cruelly. "Come on Faith, don't look so shocked," she said scornfully. "You should've known I'd have to do it again. You don't deserve to be a Slayer. You're trash and its way past time I took you out. So, enjoy hell," she added cheerfully with a kiss to her forehead.
The Shifter started to pull out the knife as the Slayer began sinking to her knees. She decided she might need to stab her again to finish her off, these chicks were tough. Then, she halted when she heard a male voice calling Faith's name. It was one of those bastard hunters.
In a blind panic, she bolted in the other direction, leaving the blade sticking in the girl's body. She ran as far and as fast as she could with no idea of where she was headed. The first kill had made her too over-confident. She should never have gone after the more experienced girl. Faith had almost made her and now there might be a Goddamn hunter on her trail.
She had to get away and hope that the Slayer was already dead and that the darkness had prevented the hunter from getting a good look at her. In her trips into the Slayers' minds, she hadn't found any info on Shapeshifters. Apparently, her kind didn't cross paths with their kind very often. However, even though she hadn't been in either of the hunters' skin yet, she knew without a doubt that they would quickly put things together and would also know exactly how to end her. She needed to find a safe place and get out of her current skin before anyone else spotted her.