A/N: Hi! Remember me? I know, I know...it's been a while. Sorry! My teachers like to crack down at the end of the semester apparently. No fun! But, alas, I am done with this semester and am on break! Yay! Freedom! You know what this means, right? Yes! More updates! I wouldn't expect them every other day, but at least twice a week. I really want to finish this story over break and start posting the AISHB sequel too! So, lots to read for you and lots to write for me! Everyone should be happy, right? :D
Soooo...let's get on with it!
Random Disclaimer: (I don't own Buffy).
Me: I'm back! And on break!
Buffy: 'Bout time! I was feeling neglected!
Me: I never knew you were so high maintence! (looks at Angel) You should watch out for that.
Buffy: (eyes narrowed) Hey, watch it! (grabs Angel's arm) He's mine!
Me: Oh, so that's how it's gonna be? (grabs Angel's other arm) Bring it on, Blondie!
Buffy: (yanks Angel's arm, pulling him toward her) Don't call me Blondie!
Me: (pulls Angel towards me) Whatcha gonna do?...Blondie...
Buffy: Alright, that's it! (leaps at me)
Me: Ahhhhhhhh! Flee!
Eye of the Beholder Chapter 28
Buffy was frowning as she and Faith made her way out of the Mayor's office. It wasn't looking very good. Apparently, the Mayor was mixed up in some dirty deeds. That was something that had caught Buffy by surprise. She hadn't gotten the 'bad guy' vibe from him.
Her mind brought forth snippets of conversation between herself and Faith while they'd searched through Allan Finch's remarkably spotless and markedly empty office. For a moment Faith had let her guard down, and Buffy could see how Allan Finch's death was torturing Faith. Buffy knew she wasn't the only one who probably had nightmares…
However, just as quickly as the remorse had shone through, it been replaced by a cynical callousness that had made Buffy flinch. Faith wasn't allowing herself to feel. She was in denial, and it was getting out of control. Faith needed to talk about what had happened and soon.
Buffy hoped that Angel could talk some sense into her.
She and Angel had talked with Giles and Wesley before she'd gone out with Faith to the Deputy Mayor's office. Her Watcher's opinions had been the same, but they had varied in ways. Giles was more focused on Faith and trying to get her to accept and work through her guilt. He agreed with Angel that Faith shouldn't be confronted outright as it would only cause her to be more defensive than she already was. Giles truly wanted to help Faith, Buffy could see that, but she also knew her Watcher well enough to know whether he was hoping for the best or looking at things realistically. Buffy knew that right now, Giles was hoping that Faith could be reached…but as things were, it didn't appear to Buffy as though Giles thought it would happen.
Wesley, on the other hand, was torn at loyalties. He wholeheartedly agreed that Buffy and Angel should try to help Faith—that they should all help her. However, he was fighting the niggling urge to call the Council and inform them of Faith's mistake. It seemed like only the rational thing to do, and Wesley much liked rationality. But this course of action would cause the Council to come to Sunnydale, and Wesley didn't want that, especially after the Review in London and then the fiasco that was Buffy's Cruciamentum in Sunnydale.
Buffy ached to help Faith. She wanted her dark-haired sister Slayer to see reason, to let herself feel the heart-crippling remorse that Buffy knew was being beaten down anytime it reared its head. Glancing in her periphery, Buffy scanned the young woman who walked beside her.
Faith seemed completely at ease, like nothing was wrong, like they hadn't been interrogated by police a few hours earlier for murder. She wasn't fazed. She was just there, in the moment, living it up.
Five by five.
Buffy was growing to loathe that phrase.
"So the Mayor of Sunnydale is a black hat, huh?" Faith spoke, snapping Buffy from her inner thoughts. "That's a shocker."
"Actually, yeah," Buffy agreed, as she voiced some of her thoughts. "I really didn't get the 'bad guy' vibe off him."
Faith stopped and turned to Buffy, looking exasperated. "When are you gonna learn, B? It doesn't matter what kind of vibe you get off a person. Nine times out of ten the face they're showing you isn't the real one."
Buffy's eyes lit up at Faith's statement, seeing an opening. "I guess you would know a lot about that," she replied evenly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Faith snapped defensively.
"It's just—look at you Faith!" Buffy gestured to the dark-haired girl desperately, trying to get her to accept what had happened. "Less than twenty-four hours ago, you killed a man, and now you're all zip-a-dee-doo-dah? It's not your real face and I know it!" Buffy said passionately, her eyes welling with knowing understanding and pleading with Faith to open up.
As selfish as it may have been, Buffy didn't want to share her grief and turmoil alone. Angel was there for her to comfort and support her, but he couldn't really understand. He hadn't been there. "Look," Buffy whispered. "I know what you're feeling because I'm feeling it too."
"Do you?" Faith sneered insolently. "Cause I'd like to hear this."
Buffy ignored her tone and obliged. "Dirty." It was the first word that came into her mind. "Sick, like something creepy crawled up inside you and you can't get it out. And you keep hoping that it was just some nightmare, but it wasn't. And we're going to have to figure out—"
"Is there going to be an intermission for this?" Faith interrupted before Buffy's words could really sink in. Already, the crushing feelings she was desperately suppressing were screaming beneath her skin, demanding to be felt. But Faith refused to give in. She was strong. She was alright. Nothing was wrong. It wasn't her fault.
It wasn't her fault.
"We have to talk to—" Buffy began, but Faith cut her off.
"No! We're not talking to anyone okay?" Faith ordered, not knowing that three people already knew. Buffy thought about telling her, but quickly dismissed the idea. That would only make things worse. "This will all blow over in a few days," Faith continued confidently.
It had to blow over in a few days.
"And if it doesn't?" Buffy challenged.
"If it doesn't…" Faith trailed off with a casual shrug. "They've got a freighter leaving the docks every few days. It ain't fancy, but it gets you gone."
Buffy couldn't believe her ears. "And that's it? You just leave? You just live with it? You just live with seeing a dead guy in your head for the rest of your life?"
"Buffy, I'm not going to see anything." Faith stepped closer to Buffy, her dark eyes glowing in a fierce determination. "I missed the mark last night, and I'm sorry about it, I really am, but it happens! Anyway, how many people do you think we've saved by now? Thousands? And didn't you stop the world from ending? I'd say that puts you and me in the plus column."
"We help people!" Buffy argued, horrified at what Faith was saying. It was like she was keeping a tally going. Like it was a game. "It doesn't mean we can do whatever we want!"
"Why not?" Faith shot back, gaining momentum. This felt good, defending herself, explaining herself. It was about time Buffy woke up and saw the world for what it was. "The guy I offed was no Ghandi. We know he was mixed up in dirty dealings…"
"Maybe, but what if he was coming to us for help?"
"What if he was?" Faith shrugged off the possibility. That wasn't the point. "You're still not seeing the big picture, B. Something made us like this. We're warriors. We're built to kill."
"To kill demons!" Buffy practically screeched incredulously. "But it doesn't mean we get to pass judgment on people like we're better than everyone else!"
"We are better!"
Buffy stared at Faith, her face blank except for the shock in her eyes. Buffy couldn't seem to get passed those three words. Her eyes searched Faith's face, trying to discern any sort of falseness.
There was none.
"That's right, better," Faith repeated, beginning to speak quickly, the words flowing easily from her mouth in her exhilaration at finally voicing her thoughts out loud. It made them real. "People need us to survive. In the balance, no one's gonna cry over some bystander who got caught in the crossfire."
Sadness swept through Buffy's chest, gripping it tightly. "I am."
Faith sniffed disdainfully. "Well that's your loss," she said before turning and walking away, leaving a frozen Buffy behind.
Angel and Doyle sat facing each other, each of them deep in concentration. Suddenly, Angel's hand shot out and moved a pawn one space.
Doyle frowned. "Why'd ya do that?"
"Why would I tell you?"
"Good point." Doyle surveyed the board. He was surrounded. His poor queen was about to bite the dust and he knew it. "Can I surrender?"
"No."
"Why not?" Doyle asked miffed. "I want to keep my lady friend alive!"
Angel's eyebrows rose. "You do realize your 'lady friend' is a chess piece, right?"
"It's the principle of the thing," Doyle argued irritably. "Is this all you do when you're waiting for Buffy? Chess?"
"I read sometimes. Maybe throw a few punches at a punching bag."
"Oh, the joy that must bring you," Doyle nodded as if this explained everything. "So…you want to get a drink?"
Angel's eyes narrowed. "You still owe me a bottle."
"I thought we'd gotten past this." Doyle sighed and shook his head. "We drank it together. And not to mention you left me with me head on the table for twelve hours! Do ya have any idea how long it took to get that crick out of my neck?"
Angel's lips quirked up in a smile.
"You're smiling!" Doyle cried outraged. "Smiling at my pain, some friend you are! You old, broody, big foreheaded—"
Angel growled in warning, and Doyle huffed. "Stupid, sensitive, gold-digging…" he continued to mutter under his breath.
Suddenly, Angel's hand shot out and hit Doyle over the back of the head, which prompted Doyle to gasp in pain and close his eyes. "Doyle?" Angel asked worriedly. "Doyle? I didn't mean to—"
"Shut it, will you?" Doyle hissed through clenched teeth. "Tryin' to focus here…"
Angel waited anxiously, and finally Doyle exhaled slowly and opened his eyes. "I need that drink now," he mumbled as he rubbed his temples.
"What did you see?" Angel asked quickly, placing a hand on Doyle's shoulder to steady him.
"The dark-haired Slayer," Doyle muttered. "What's-her-face…"
"Faith?"
"Yeah, her," Doyle nodded. "Ow, uh…she's gonna kill Xander…at least I think that's what she called him…"
"Where?"
"A motel room?" Doyle guessed. "Pretty dingy. Needs a little TLC."
Doyle opened his eyes and looked up at Angel. "Well, get goin'! Go on, save the day!"
Angel stared at Doyle for a moment. Was he really going to do this? Act on a vision by a person whom he'd only met a day ago? Yes. Yes, he was.
But of all the people he could save, did it have to be Xander?
The Plymouth screeched to a stop outside Faith's motel. Angel jumped out of the car and jogged down the hall to Faith's room, picking up a discarded baseball bat along the way. The door to Faith's room was unlocked, and Angel burst in, his eyes settling on the bed. Faith was straddling Xander's waist, her hands clinched around his throat. He already appeared to be unconscious.
Faith seemed to realize that someone else was in the room and turned towards the door—just in time for the baseball bat to connect with her face. Angel caught the dark-haired Slayer before she hit the floor, and propped her up against the wall for the moment. He turned his attention to Xander, who was still unconscious.
Angel leaned over and listened for a moment. He nodded to himself, hearing Xander's shallow breaths that were slowly growing stronger. Good. Using just a little more force than was necessary, Angel slung Xander over his shoulder and carried the boy to the car. On the way, Angel may or may not have let Xander's head hit a pole.
Taking out a cell phone, Angel called Wesley to come pick Xander up and take him...somewhere. Angel didn't really care where as long as it wasn't with him. Wesley agreed, and Angel snapped the phone shut, taking a deep, unnecessary breath. Time to go get Faith. Walking back into her room, Angel picked Faith up off the floor. He was carrying her down the hallway towards the Plymouth when a white-haired lady exited her room. She eyed him critically, glancing from him to Faith's unconscious form.
Angel adopted a small smile. "She fell asleep," he explained. "She's completely knocked out."
An answering smile lit the old lady's face, as she nodding approvingly. She patted his arm. "You're a nice young man," she told him. "Like my Tom. He used to be so strong and young and handsome…" she looked at him appreciatively and Angel tried to keep a straight face. It was impossible not to crack a little smile. If only this woman knew that he was actually three times her age.
"Thank you, ma'am," Angel smiled charmingly.
"And you've got manners too," the old lady shook her head. "Well, I best be goin' now. You take care of her," she ordered sternly.
Angel's smile fell slightly, but not enough for her to notice. "I'll try."
Buffy was pacing in the main room of the mansion while Doyle watched from his place on the couch. "Really, ya should probably sit down Buffy," he tried again.
"No," Buffy shook her head, continuing to pace and glance at the door.
She'd gotten back to the mansion about a half hour ago. She'd rushed in, calling for Angel, only to have Doyle answer her instead. The Seer had then proceeded to tell her about his vision and how Angel had gone off to save Xander from Faith. Buffy had immediately started towards the door to follow, but Doyle had convinced her to stay.
"Why are you here?" Buffy asked him as a distraction from her anxiety.
Doyle coughed to buy himself time to answer her. He assumed that Angel would rather tell Buffy about his desire to seek atonement, and Doyle didn't want to spoil that. "Oh, you know, just here to help."
"Why?"
"Why must you ask?" Doyle countered. "Ya need to learn to just accept that things are the way they are sometimes."
Buffy frowned, but didn't comment.
At that moment, Angel entered the mansion carrying the still unconscious Faith in his arms.
"Why'd ya bring her here?" Doyle griped. "She makes me nervous."
"Angel?" Buffy questioned wide-eyed.
Angel ignored them both and set Faith down by the fireplace. "Buffy, remember the trunk in the closet I asked you not to open?"
Buffy's mind flew back in time and recalled the memory. She'd still been settling into the mansion, transferring clothes and such, leaving half her wardrobe at her house and half at the mansion. She'd just commandeered half the closet and was, admittedly, snooping around Angel's side of the closet. She'd flipped through his dress shirts, some of them much finer quality than others. She'd found a discarded fedora from the forties that she'd placed on her head with a smile, wondering how she was going to convince Angel to wear it. She'd been looking at his boots (he actually had quite an impressive stock) when she'd found the trunk. It was old and antique-y looking, sparking Buffy's curiosity. She'd tried to open it, but it hadn't budged. That's when she'd noticed that she needed a key.
Angel had come in then, and the smile that he'd been wearing had dropped immediately. "What?" Buffy had asked with a frown.
"You don't want to open that."
"Why not?"
"Because some things are better left alone."
Angel had asked her not to open it or go looking for the key, and Buffy had agreed, even though she hadn't understood what could cause Angel to act like he did concerning the trunk.
Buffy's mind returned to the present, focusing on Angel, whose back was to her. "I remember."
"Go to my desk. The top left drawer has a false bottom. Get the key, open the trunk, and bring the chains," Angel ordered quietly.
Buffy was frozen for a moment. Chains?
"Before she wakes up," Angel prompted her.
"Right," Buffy replied dazed. Chains?
Buffy shook her head and turned on her heel, quickly heading up the stairs to their bedroom. She went to Angel's desk. She'd always admired it, the old, polished wood. Angel cared a great deal about it, and she knew it had some emotional connection to him, though she hadn't found the right time to ask yet. Focusing on her task, Buffy opened the top left hand drawer and quickly emptied it of its contents before she let her hand feel the bottom, searching for the latch that would trigger the false bottom to open. She finally found it in the very back corner. She'd have never known it was there unless she'd been looking for it. Even then she doubted that anyone would have found it.
Not sparing the ingenuity of the false bottom a moment more of thought, Buffy grabbed the key. It was an old skeleton key, and the weight of it was solid in her small hand. This was only serving as a reminder that Angel had lived far longer than she had, and while he knew everything about her, she wasn't anywhere near knowing half of everything about him.
Buffy went to the closet and immediately knelt by the trunk. She quickly unlocked it and lifted the lid. She didn't take a second longer than necessary. She grabbed the heavy chains and fished them out of the trunk's depths, ignoring the ominous clinking sound that they made. Once she'd gathered the chains she shut the lid of the trunk and turned away from it, refusing to acknowledge what else she'd seen in there.
Angel was in the exact same spot when Buffy returned with the chains. She knelt by his side and Angel wordlessly took the chains and proceed to use them to secure Faith to the wall. They were quiet for a few moments before Angel turned to her. His chocolate brown eyes were troubled, but determined.
"You and Doyle should probably be outside when she wakes up. It won't do any good for you two to be here," he told them.
Buffy wanted to argue, but she knew he was right.
Faith took that moment to moan slightly, as if acting on some unheard cue, and Buffy quickly stood and went out into the garden, Doyle following behind her.
Angel settled on the coffee table, facing Faith, twirling the baseball bat in his hands. He risked a glance out towards the garden. He couldn't see Buffy, but he could picture her in his mind's eye. She was standing, her arms were wrapped around herself as she stared up at the sky. She'd have questions, and Angel didn't know if he would answer them.
Faith moaned again, and began to shift, the chains clinking with the movement. Angel's attention snapped to hers the moment she opened her eyes. Faith was dazed for a second, before she realized that she was chained to the wall. She yanked at the chains experimentally before rubbing her wrists. She looked up at him with a smirk, taking in her new situation with a false ease.
"Finally decided to tie me up, huh?" she asked playfully. "I always knew you weren't really a one-Slayer-guy."
Angel continued to play with the bat. "I'm sorry about the chains," he apologized. "It's not that I don't trust you…actually, it is that I don't trust you." Angel set the bat aside as he focused all his attention on Faith.
"The thing with Xander, I know what it looked like, but we were just playing," Faith explained carelessly.
"And he forgot the safety word," Angel mocked her evenly, his disbelief apparent. "Is that it?"
"Safety words are for wusses."
Angel got up and crouched in front of Faith, just out of her reach. "I bet you're not to big on trust games, are you Faith?"
"What, are you going to shrink me now?" Faith scoffed disdainfully. "Is that it?"
"No, I just want to talk to you."
"That's what they always say. And then it's 'Lemme stay the night. I promise I won't try anything.'"
Angel knew when to give it a rest. "Alright, you wanna go the long way around, fine." He stood up. "I'm not getting any older."
Angel walked out into the garden, and Buffy immediately went to him. "How is she?"
"It's like talking to a wall," Angel told her dryly. "Except you get more from a wall."
"But you'll keep trying, right?" Buffy pushed and Angel wrapped an arm around her waist, his hand settling low on her hip.
"Sure. We're just getting started," he assured her, glad that she was focusing on Faith instead of the contents of the trunk.
"So, what do I do?" Buffy asked helplessly. She wanted to do something. Anything.
Angel smiled at her apologetically. He knew how she felt. "Look, right now, there's nothing you can do."
Buffy frowned, but was undeterred. "Well, this is bound to last awhile, right?" she asked. "So, I'll just go to Faith's and get some of her stuff. That way she'll see that we're on her side."
Angel knew that it wouldn't accomplish nothing. If anything, Faith would assume that they were trying to lure her into a false sense of security. She simply didn't trust…but Angel would indulge Buffy. "That's a good idea."
"Okay," Buffy brightened a little now that she had something to do. A task. "I'll be right back."
"Buffy," Angel stopped her as she pulled away and placed his hands on her shoulders. He had to tell her the truth about how this could go down with Faith. She needed to hear it. "Look, I—I don't want you to get your hopes up. She may not want us to help her."
"She does," Buffy insisted. "She just doesn't know how to say it."
Angel fought not to smile. Situations such as these always brought out their age difference. Buffy's innocence was something that Angel treasured. He loved how she wasn't a cynic like he was. He loved how she was always so optimistic…but Angel had lived long enough to know that sometimes people didn't want help. Whether because they were too afraid to accept it or too prideful, sometimes people just didn't want to be helped. Faith's situation was one where Angel would have to tread carefully and play his cards right at the most opportune moment. Murder was a concept that Angel knew all too well, as well as the ramifications.
"She killed a man," Angel tried to explain to Buffy. "That changes everything for her."
Buffy shook her head. "Giles said that with counseling, they might not even have to lock her up."
"That's not what I mean," Angel replied evenly. "She's taken a life."
"I know," Buffy frowned, not seeing the point.
"She has a taste for it now."
Angel paced past Faith. "I know what's going on with you."
"Join the club," Fain snorted. "Everyone seems to have a theory."
"Hmm," Angel hummed noncommittally. "But I know what it's like to take a life. To feel a future, a world of possibilities, snuffed out by your own hand. I know the power in it, the exhilaration. It was like a drug for me."
"Yeah?" Faith replied sarcastically. "Sounds like you need help to me, a professional maybe."
"A professional wouldn't have helped me," Angel returned easily as he sat down on the coffee table. I would have killed him before he even tried. Angel added in his head. "I stopped when I got my soul back, my human heart."
"Goody for you," Faith cajoled insolently. "Now, if we're gonna party, let's get on with it." She motioned to her chained wrists. "Otherwise, could you let me out of these?"
"Faith you have a choice," Angel ignored her. "You've tasted something few ever do. I mean, to kill without remorse is to feel like a god."
Faith struggled against the chains. "Right now, all I feel is a cramp in my wrist!" Faith continued to yank at the chains. "So let me go!"
Angel ignored her again, crouching down in front of her. "But you're not a god," he continued. "You're not much more than a child. Going down this path will ruin you. You can't imagine the price for true evil."
"Yeah?" Faith sneered. "I hope evil takes MasterCard."
Angel couldn't help but smile. "You and me, Faith," he said as he stood. "We're a lot alike."
Faith scoffed.
"Time was I thought humans existed just to hurt each other," Angel explained. "But then I came here, and I found out that there are other types of people." Angel's lips pulled up at the corners in a small smile as he thought of Buffy. "People who genuinely wanted to do right. And they make mistakes. And they fall down, you know, but they keep caring—keep trying. If you can trust us, Faith, this can all change. You don't have to disappear into the darkness," he finished softly, fervently, and he could see that he was getting through to her.
Faith was silent for a long moment before she shrugged, and held out her wrists. "Can I go now? Nice chattin' with you and all, but I got places to go, people to see, demons to kill…"
Angel studied Faith, his eyes narrowing slightly. There was truly nothing he could do from here. From here on out, it was all on Faith. He'd said his piece and he knew it did no good to beat a dead horse.
Angel unlocked the chains.
"You're actually letting me go?" Faith raised her eyebrows. "Wow. I'm surprised…slightly disappointed in a way," she couldn't help but smirk sultrily at him. "But surprised."
"It's all on you now," Angel told her. "Your decision. Your life. I can't tell you what to do."
"Damn straight," Faith agreed as she moved past him.
She got to the door and thought about pausing and turning back to Angel to say—something. A 'thank you' didn't seem to be what she was looking for, but it was close. The clawing guilt that she'd been fighting was so close to the surface, she could barely beat it back down. Faith thought back through her conversations with Buffy and with Angel. She remembered Allan Finch's wide, terrified eyes. She remembered the blood. She quickly flashed through the events of the past thirty-six hours.
She made her decision, and shut the door without saying anything.
Faith knew where she was going. She was going to the docks, and she was going to hop a freighter. She was going to escape.
She'd gotten to the docks easily enough. No trouble, no one stopping her…
And then Little-Miss-Goodie-Two-Shoes showed up and ruined it.
"You don't give up do you?" she asked Buffy.
"Not on my friends, no," Buffy answered truthfully. When she'd come back to the mansion to find that Angel had let Faith go, Buffy had immediately gone back to the motel. Faith hadn't been there...
There was only one other place that Buffy knew Faith would be.
"Yeah, because you and me are such solid buds, right?" Faith snorted sarcastically.
"We could be," Buffy retorted. "It's not too late."
Faith's face contorted in disdainful disgust, her resentment rearing its ugly head. "To what? Change and be more like you? Little-Miss-Goodie-Two-Shoes? Ain't happening, B."
"Faith, no one is asking you to be like me, but you can't go on like this." Buffy tried not to let Angel's words enter her mind, but she couldn't stop them.
Some people just don't want to be helped.
Faith suddenly grinned at her, and it made Buffy uncomfortable. There was just something…off about it. "Scares you, doesn't it?" she asked.
Buffy wasn't going to deny it. "Yeah, it scares me. Faith, you're hurting people. You're hurting yourself."
"But that's not it." Faith advanced on Buffy, but the blonde-Slayer held her ground. "That's not what bothers you so much. What bugs you out is that you know I'm right. You know in your gut that we don't need the law. We are the law."
"No," Buffy disagreed firmly before turning around and walking back the way she'd come. She hated that Angel was probably right, but she had so desperately hoped he'd been wrong. Now, though, with Faith trailing along after her, becoming more and more passionate the longer she spoke, Buffy was beginning to see that Faith was on her own.
"Yes. You know exactly what I'm talking about because you have it in you too. I've seen it, B. You've got the lust, and I'm not just talking about screwing vampires."
That caused Buffy to whirl around to face Faith, her eyes glittering with fury. "Don't you dare bring him into this," she warned darkly.
"It was good, wasn't it?" Faith taunted. "The sex. The danger. Bet part of you even dug him when he went psycho…"
"No!" Buffy argued horrified at the thought and the small part of her that knew Faith was right.
"See, you need me to toe the line because you're afraid you'll go over it, right B?" Faith continued to follow her. "You can't handle watching me living my own way, having a blast, because it tempts you! You know it could be you!"
Buffy had had enough. She stopped, spun on her heel, and backhanded Faith across the face.
Faith's head jerked to the side, and she brought a hand up to her cheek. She grinned at Buffy. "That's my girl."
For a split second, Buffy considered continuing the fight, but she decided against it. It wouldn't do any good. "No. I'm not going to do this."
Faith grabbed her arm and spun her back around. "Why not? It feels good, doesn't it? Blood rising…"
Buffy suddenly heard a noise from above them and looked up in time to see a pile of crates tumbling down upon them. Having only seconds to act, Buffy shoved Faith back as hard as she could before taking the brunt of the impact. Buffy hit the ground hard and lights flashed before her eyes as she fought against unconsciousness. She was dazed, and heard the muffled sounds of a fight going on around her. She willed herself to move, but it was like her body was refusing to respond. Buffy growled under her breath and tried again, this time managing to prop herself up on an elbow to look around. She saw Faith fighting Trick and some of his goons and the urge to fight and protect welled within her. Buffy forced back her dazedness and fought to get to her feet. She tossed the crates off her legs and got to her feet wobbly, trying to find some balance.
Just her luck, right as she felt like she was on solid ground, Trick punched in the face, causing her to fall back into the crates. Buffy staggered back to her feet and faced Trick. She tried to backhand him, but he blocked it. Buffy's next punch to his abdomen connected, but it was weak and didn't even cause him to stumble. Trick sent a right hook her way, and Buffy didn't have time to block. She stumbled back from the force of the blow and fought to keep her footing. However, Trick spared no moment for possible recovery and his fist hit Buffy under the jaw, causing her head to snap up and her body fly back into another pile of crates.
Suddenly, Buffy felt a cord wrap around her neck. Trick yanked on the cord, and Buffy gasped and pulled at the cord as it cut off her air. He slung her into the pallet of crates, and Buffy was barely able to get a sense that she'd been knocked to the ground before Trick yanked on the cord again, pulling her up and slamming her against the wall.
Buffy struggled to get loose, but she was too weak and too dazed. She was just acting on instinct, fighting for air. She felt Trick lean in towards her neck. "I hear once you taste Slayer you never wanna go back."
Buffy renewed her struggle, but it seemed to be hopeless. She sensed Trick's teeth coming closer and closer to her neck, but the bite never came. Instead, she heard, "Oh, no. No, this is no good at all."
Trick exploded into dust, and the cord dropped to the dock. Buffy gasped, greedily sucking in much needed air. She turned and saw Faith, her stake raised where Trick's heart had been. They stared at each other warily, waiting for the other to make a move. Faith lowered her stake, and Buffy massaged her neck. There was another awkward silence before Buffy broke it. "Thank you."
"Okay, how do I look?" Doyle asked as he ran a hand through his short hair. "Good? Great, even?"
Buffy rolled her eyes, turning to look at Doyle who was currently fidgeting in the backseat of the Plymouth. "Doyle, it's not like we're taking you to your own funeral."
"Funeral? Funeral?" Doyle repeated. "You're tryin' to kill me!"
Angel snickered as he pulled into the Sunnydale High School parking lot. "Give it a rest Doyle. Calm down."
"Just nervous," Doyle muttered. "You know…nervous."
"The only person you have to fear is Cordelia," Buffy told him comfortingly. "She can be scary," she teased with a smile.
"Alright," Doyle took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. "Take me to my doom."
Angel scoffed, and took Doyle by the arm, leading him into the library. All the Scoobies looked up at their entrance, and their gazes immediately settled on Doyle.
"Buffy, Angel, who is this?" Giles asked warily, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.
"Oh, don't worry 'bout me," Doyle smiled nervously. "I'm one of you guys. Fightin' the good fight."
Silence.
"Friend of Angel's…" Doyle tried.
Silence.
"And me," Buffy interrupted. "He's my friend. I've never had an Irish friend."
Angel frowned. "Forgetting something?"
"What?" Buffy muttered. "You don't have the accent anymore…"
"That doesn't matter…" Angel argued with a slight pout.
Buffy fought not to grin.
"Oh, come on, it's just a new guy!" Cordelia huffed as she grabbed her purse. "I don't know why I even came. It's not like I actually like any of you."
Doyle's eyes lit up, and Buffy and Angel shared a look.
"Nice to meet you too, Princess," Doyle smiled with all the charm he could muster.
Across town, Faith looked up at the building in front of her. Striding forward confidently, she threw open the doors and walked into the building like she owned it. Climbing into the elevator, she punched the button for the top floor. Incredibly ridiculous, yet predictably soothing elevator music played that Faith ignored. The doors opened and Faith was on the move again, completely bypassing the desk secretary.
"You can't go in there!" she protested, but Faith continued on. She was not to be stopped.
She opened the door and shut it, turning to face the man that sat behind a large desk. "You sent your boy to kill me," she accused his surprised face.
"That's right, I did."
"He's dust."
"I thought he might be, what with you standing here and all."
"I guess that means you have a job opening."
The Mayor smiled.
Yes, Faith is still going to go bad. I know a few of you were hoping that she wouldn't, but I have reasons! Faith's character is one that needs to go through some trials to figure out who she really is. She's too independent and too opinionated to follow another's advice or guidance. For Faith to get where she was in S7 of Buffy, she needs to go through all this.
And for those of you who are disappointed that Buffy and Angel didn't talk about what was in the trunk, never fear! I DO get to that in the next chapter. Wanna guess what episode? (Drum Roll) "Enemies!" Yes, I'm excited too...mainly because it has one of the best Angel/Buffy lines ever AND Angel punches Xander in the face...
So...until next time! Hopefully fairly soon!
Lots of love,
ArthursCamelot