Buffy stared. And stared. And stared some more. "Let me get this straight. Our bodies are possessed by the demon-y leftovers of the Slayer-y stuff inside us, but it does that because it's freaky demon-y stuff which possesses people."
Faith, drifting at some indeterminate point in front of Buffy's vision, shrugged. "Check with your little voice if you don't like it. Hell, I still ain't sure what's going on."
It's all true. We're in the space between.
And what in great muppity Odin is that?
Faith displayed her perfectly white teeth in amusement. "Yunno, I pull a face like that when annoyed with it, too."
"Huh?" Jerking back to their sense of reality, Buffy contemplated the problem, yet again. They couldn't get back into their bodies, and not for want of trying. It felt as though hours had passed in this place. They were stuck in some weird limbo accompanied by the voices of their inner Slayers, who also happened to have more control over their bodies than both humans did - but not that much more, since apparently their driving skills were even worse than Buffy's.
The idea of swapping direct places with the voice and becoming the thing in the back of her mind, Buffy could almost wrap her thoughts around it, almost comprehend.
Faith, however? The Faith of all the issues Buffy experienced from her in the first place? What the hell. Why were they even here, together? And why weren't they ripping each other's eyeballs out?
"Remembering the good old days?"
"With you, the word 'good' doesn't really come to mind," Buffy shot back, regretting the venomous words the moment she said them.
"Ah, and you're miss goody-two-shoes? I'm-right-you're-wrong-gal? Seem to recall my own knife being shoved into my stomach. Sorry, can't stab me here." Faith smirked maliciously. "Insubstantial shit going on. Just stuck with my company."
"You were bad. Stabbing bad people is what I do." Again, Buffy wanted to kick herself. Why did Faith make it so damn easy?
"You missed." Faith tapped her heart. "Shoulda got me here."
"And what the hell was with the body snatching? Sleeping with my boyfriend?" Buffy deliberately ignored Faith's statement, despite feeling a peculiar twinge in her chest.
However twisted that girl became, how far off the rails into fuck-up valley she'd penetrated, Buffy had never wanted to kill her. Not really.
In all honesty, she felt the rage dimming the more she tried to inject it, as if clinging to a bad habit. The reasons, all the reasons swirling in her head as to why she disliked Faith - once so convincing - now they just didn't matter. Not anymore.
"Surprised he didn't notice myself, guess you're a lot wilder in bed than I thought. Still though, a normal guy - not quite the same stamina a vamp can give, huh? You know, the vamp you tried to kill me for, and split up with like a month later?"
Buffy almost went for Faith then. Almost. The mocking sneer in the brunette's voice certainly asked for it. Buffy then thought of the other version, the girl she'd kissed, still in California, doing God knows what. How could two of the same person be so radically different?
Faith interpreted the long pause as something else. Tendon lines appeared on her throat as she clenched teeth. She swallowed, took a deep breath. "Sorry."
Buffy withdrew from her reverie, one eyebrow raised. "Huh?"
Faith's bottom lip tightened, rose. She glanced away, fidgeting, the complete opposite of her aggression a moment before. "Said sorry." Another pause. "Is all."
Apologising. Something panged inside. Buffy dropped her gaze as well. I said I'd kill her if she ever did.
Here's a funny thought. How 'bout you accept this time?
How can I?
How can you not?
Buffy realised the Inner Slayer was right. Realisation opened a door in her brain, in her heart. Light, harsh light flooded in, as if drowning her in truth. How could she not?
This Faith lost her Watcher. This Faith didn't have friends - except maybe Angel.
Only circumstance separated them. Not their core personality. Tiny little choices and moments, here and there. If anything ... Buffy raised her head.
"I'm sorry, too."
Faith, drifting in the surreal surroundings of their makeshift location, now exhibited shock. "Did you just apologise?"
"Yes."
"To me?"
"Ye-e-ess ..." Buffy wondered where Faith headed with this. "Are you gonna beat me to death for saying that?" She attempted a weak jab at humour. To her utter astonishment, Faith's lips turned upwards. It was the same smile she found so endearing on the other Faith. For a moment, Buffy lost all trail of thought.
"You okay?" The brunette, cautious about her words now, obviously unwilling to break their sudden and unexpected camaderie - folded her arms in front of her chest. The smile faded, as if remembering she didn't have much to smile about, so planned not to break it out again anytime soon.
"As okay as finding an out of body experience with a former enemy can be," Buffy deadpanned.
"Former enemy?" Faith picked up on the phrase in interest.
" I ..." How could Buffy explain it? "I don't want to hate you. I want to forgive you."
"You want to?"
Buffy nodded. "I'm getting there." Staring at the brunette before her, a mesh of conflicting emotions arose: the sting of their past mixing with the few good memories they did share. The straightforwardness of the Faith from this world, and the belated realisation these people were one and the same - but separated by a series of different choices and chances. Mentally, Buffy outlined their key differences, not trusting herself to say anything more. Their words always became twisted anyway, travelling down paths neither of them originally intended. It was the way of things.
The Faith Buffy had kissed - not nothing she wanted to overthink on, given the obvious implications that came with kissing someone who pretty much was a clone of someone else she claimed to hate - or at least hold intense emotion for.
This world's Faith had things going for her. Sure, the world was going to hell - literally - but before all that, she had friends. Buffy's friends. Because Buffy had died? Possibly. She hoped not, though. This world's Faith was more open, more mature. Why?
Stable motherly Watcher, check. If Buffy lost Giles, or, God forbid, her mother - she didn't know how she'd cope. She knew how Faith coped. Not well. There was no super gnarly vamp this time though, responsible for the Watcher's killing.
Shunting the distracting thought out of mind, she sighed. It didn't excuse anything the Faith in front of her had done. Not really. But at least she understood a little more. Was it enough to forgive? Maybe. Buffy certainly didn't make things easier. She had problems of her own - mainly dealing with Angel. Ah, Angel.
The silence between them stretched into an awkward length of time.
"Wonder if this was spose'd to happen." Faith broke it, indicating themselves. "Ending up here." She gathered her thoughts. "Well, to you. I'm the tag along. I came along by accident."
"Well, Willow did a spell to help us find a solution for the apocalypse, and it kicked me out my body. It's possible. You, though? I don't know."
Faith scowled then. "Getting dragged into your mess like this ..."
"Not my fault," Buffy shot back. "Deal with it."
"Trying. Been here ages. Can't escape."
"Ehem. Hello there, Slayers." A new voice cut through the monochrome like scissors, making both girls jump.
"Who the fuck are you?" Faith narrowed eyes at the newcomer, floating closer to Buffy, defensive in posture.
"What she said." Buffy examined the intruder, unsure of what to make of him/it. He could have been male, but his voice came a little too high, the shape of his body behind the roman-style toga a little too smooth all around. His skin glowed an iridescent silver. Storm-blue eyes travelled between their forms in interest.
"Forgive this little visit, but let's make things clear. I am a conduit for the Powers That Be. You know. The people pulling strings up there." He pointed vaguely above them. "Presumably you know about the Powers That Be. Yes?"
Buffy and Faith nodded, dubiously.
"Good." He clasped his hands together. "I've been sent here to pretty much tell you that we're short on time. This world - the one you've been stolen to - is dangerously close to organ failure. But that's not the problem. The real problem is, that you two only have about a week left before your absence in your home-world will start to impact the balance of good and evil. So in one week's time, you'll be returning home."
Buffy's mouth hung open. "Huh?"
The conduit smiled. "You were always on borrowed time, here. But both of you are needed. This world is meant to be a winner, but things have worked out against us. You know the whole multidimensional thing we have going on? Yeah?" He waited again for their nods, obviously conscious of how much they were really taking in. Which wasn't much. "Half the realities win the fight against evil, and half lose. It's kind of a delicate balance. This world absolutely cannot lose or the balance will start going heavily towards evil. But it did lose. It lost Buffy Summers. It stopped this Faith Lehane's ability to truly fight by suppressing her power. So you're both here to win it for them."
Faith, still defensive, shook her head, eyebrows scrunched in annoyed puzzlement. "Whatever you are, quit the chatter. Don't care about that shit. How did we get here? How do we get out? Are you gonna help on that point? 'Cause if not, fuck off."
The conduit looked offended. "You do realise you're talking to the emissary of higher beings, right?"
Faith scowled. "Don't care."
"Fine. You're both here to complete your ascension. This world has an interesting demon gift for the Slayers in question. You have your normal boost of power. And then you have the transformation state. To put it simply, we need you both to achieve transformation into the demon inside before the week ends. And you can only do it with each other, because your power is split between you both, instead of being in a single Slayer. Then you can do your jobs, save the world, everyone goes home happy."
Things started clicking into place. The power Buffy felt inside, the suggestion that came with it, the voice that spoke. She always knew, somewhere, she could lose herself to it. Become something more and less. Less human, more powerful. More accomplished in her duty. More destructive.
"So you dragged us here to figure this out?"
The conduit nodded. "Yes. I'm not allowed to help more than this. It's already a little fraudulent I'm here, but we really are running out of time, and neither of you are close. For Power's sake, you're two continents apart from each other. You were supposed to meet, but you didn't." The conduit wrapped his silver arms in front of his toga, clearly frustrated. "I have to depart. But please. Communicate. Talk to Balkir. It wants to help. And find the link between yourselves. It will make things easier."
The conduit was quite suddenly and simply gone.
Both Slayers stared at the empty space where the invasion had taken place.
"What," Faith said, "Is Balkir."
Me,the Inner Slayer said. Just the source of all your power, no problem.
"Shut up." Buffy waved her hand at Faith, dismissing the brunette's mood. "I'm thinking."
"I don't even know what just happened! That thing said nothing about how to get out. He just ninja visited and said shit and left. Like, what?" Faith's anger bubbled at her helplessness to get out the situation. "Buffy, did you get anything?"
"I did." Buffy stared at Faith, drawing the brunette into reluctant silence. "And we have to connect."
Faith POV, Sunnydale, California
"So, what? You dusted him?"
"Sort of." Faith touched her tender neck for what must have been the hundredth time that evening. "Then Buffy ran off. Wanted to go after her but I remember what happened last time I did that."
"I'm so glad you're okay." Willow embraced Faith, quickly joined in by Tara and Xander.
At the edge of the woodland, Giles and Voirrey's cars were parked side by side, their fronts half-nuzzled in upward sloping grass. Mud caked the tyres, and dust the windows. Faith's Harley rested at a tilt, helmet locked in a polycarbonate box attached on the back.
Voirrey stood with her back to them, one hand spread on her bandaged stomach, the other helping rest a cellphone against her ear as she tried contacting the others in Prague. A charger plugged into a battery container in the car stretched a wire into the phone.
"Where can we go now, Giles?" Xander directed the question. Anya frowned.
"What he said."
"Anywhere but here," Giles replied. "There is a Council safehouse I know of, but it's a considerable distance away, and the Watcher who owns it is not ... a fan, if that's the word? - of my methods, or the fact I've had in my charge two successful Slayers. It's a great honour to be picked for an active Slayer, you understand. Still, he cannot refuse if I come knocking."
"I like that you have backups." Xander nodded approval. "Makes me feel less like screaming my head off and then running around like a chicken. Without the head."
"Why can't we stay here?" Anya pointed at Sunnydale. "The problem is here. You lot are supposed to save the world. If I wasn't cut off from my powers ..." She left it hanging.
"You know, you have a valid point." Xander kissed his girlfriend on the cheek. Faith observed Voirrey in the background, talking quietly on the phone. Was she speaking to the people in Prague, or recording a message on an answering machine?
Anya, still on track, shrugged. "How can we seal the Hellmouth?"
Giles wrinkled his brow, the glasses dropping a centimetre down the bridge of his nose. He pushed them back up. "We could ... if we found six witches and warlocks willing to sacrifice themselves, perform the blood hexagon spell again."
"No!" Faith spat vehemence, making fists, also echoed by Willow and Tara.
"Yes." Giles stared through his rimmed glasses, cold, dispassionate. "If that's what it will take to save everything else, then it must be done. I'm willing to accept alternative methods, but it is becoming increasingly obvious we're running out of options."
Faith couldn't believe what she was hearing. "It ain't right."
"No. I quite agree with you. It's not." The shadows of the evening and his decision invaded his features, making him appear much, much older. Faith refused to agree with him. A part of her knew he made sense. But she didn't want it.
"I can't believe Buffy went like she did." Xander changed the subject, scratching at his thick woolen sweater.
Again, a cocktail of conflicting feelings arose in Faith. She went through the fight against Kakistos again in her head, and of the end, when Buffy had spared her. What did it mean? Why had the spell done this to the blonde?
Making said blonde incredibly powerful. An icy sliver of a notion came into Faith's mind, slid down her spine. Was it possible?
"Hey. Y'all." She managed to find her voice. "What if ... what if the spell you did worked?"
Eyes gaped at her.
"What?" Xander said.
Then Voirrey came off the phone and approached them. She held the cellphone up triumphantly. "I caught what Faith just said. And it may very well be possible. Vllk thinks so. He's mentioned something very interesting happening from his end. Listen up."
Angel POV, Prague
Shafts of sunlight poured through the mud-encrusted windows. Dead bits of skin and dust curled in the heated air. Wesley sat by the sink, draining yet another glass of water. Wentz rummaged in the fridge, getting out a dry piece of cheese, probably well past the sell-by date.
Vllk and Angel watched out one of the frontal windows. Both golems were stationed outside, their impressive clay forms there as a deterrent between those inside the house, and Faith. Faith, in her disfigured, demonic glory, paced around and around the courtyard. Every now and then, a plaguewalker or demon wandered in. The number of corpses grew by the hours.
Angel examined Faith in nervous excitement. When he'd followed her earlier, to his delight, he caught the faint scent of human blood, leading him straight to Wesley. Giving up the chase on Faith, he joined with the people he previously thought dead, with admonishments from them. ("I wrote a note. We had to move in a hurry. Can't you read?")
One of the walkers shambled into view. Faith erupted onto the hapless monster with a shriek of furious and elated energy, decimating her foe in a matter of seconds. Vllk and Angel retreated from the windows when she fixed those black eyes on them, face tight in predatory intent.
Any attempts by them to reach her humanity had failed. Whatever was driving her now, it refused to let her move from this location, where they all hid, content to butcher stray demons. As long as it wasn't slaughtering everyone in the house, Angel didn't mind.
"Amazing," Vllk whispered, silently counting the number of dead demons. "This is what the older documents talk about, in the days before the Cruciamentum." He wiped muck from his glasses. "If I could access the Lyceum again, I'm sure I can find something that will describe how it works, exactly."
When Faith's routine patrol neared their house, she looked at them blankly, those sinister, weird eyes flitting between them and the golems. After a brief moment of indecision, as if calculating whether it was worth the effort to punch through the golems to get to the people inside the house, she was off, pacing once more to the other end of the court.
"My heart leaps every time that happens," Wesley admitted, daubing sweat off his forehead. He began filling up another glass of water.
"It proves there's something akin to conscience, inside there." Vllk placed a gnarled, bony hand on the window frame, fingertips scraping through peeling paint.
"Or laziness," Angel said.
Vllk tsked, unamused by the words. "Of course, she's effectively the cork to our bottle. Supplies will not last long like this."
Wentz looked guilty as he continued chewing the cheese.
Four plaguewalkers in irregular formation, came out of a main streetway, attracted by the earlier commotion. With a roar, (Vllk believed she was deliberately baiting them to come by making so much noise) the brunette leapt at her newfound prey, adding to the dead's number.
"How many does that make slain now? Fifty? Sixty?" Wentz joined them, licking his fingers for the last remnants of cheese crumb.
"Close enough. Voirrey has shared the information that her group preformed the spell as suggested, and it's induced a similar state in their own Slayer. Our descriptions matched. The veiny corruption, the eyes, the manner, the increased strength and fighting ability ..." Vllk grinned ghoulishly. "She thought their spell a failure, until then. I think this was meant to happen. I believe this is what the Prophecy actually signifys." He stabbed a finger at Faith. "Dark hair, darkslayer. And in Sunnydale, light hair, lightslayer. This is logic. This was why your Powers insisted on the previous Slayer being alive." He then frowned, temporarily pushing pause on his connective reasoning. "So was she never meant to die ...?"
Wesley, following the thought process with intense concentration, put down his glass. "Perhaps not. I've got another idea, too. What if this Faith's arrival when we dragged Buffy into our world is not as accidental as we suspected? As far as we can tell, only the Slayers not originating from here have been affected by this ... condition."
"It looks that way." Angel placed fingers to his lips, nails digging into teeth. "But I'm kind of hoping this isn't permanent. She's a double-edged sword."
"Agreed." Wesley squinted in thought.
"If we could find a means to control her ..." Vllk followed the thread, a peculiar expression much like greed coming into his face.
"But we can't." Even as Angel said it, he wondered. Whatever was happening to Faith at the moment, she still seemed to recognise him. A Slayer's instincts were wired to beat the crap and stake any and every vampire in range. The fact Angel still lived proved pretty compelling.
Faint shimmering from the city-wide barrier reminded Angel of its presence.
"At least our ancestors were not as stupid as the idiots today." Vllk observed the ripples. "The Dark ones are trying to break it, but it will hold. It must. And we must stop them."
"Is there a Hellmouth here?" Angel realised he'd never asked.
"In a sense." Vllk scratched his chin, then under his nose, thinking. "The Pit has similar properties to the Core. A holding place for the old ones who could not be destroyed by conventional means. Our golems were guardians, humans who defended our cause in life, and in their death, had their heart's blood spilled on a scroll. This scroll rests on a construct's tongue. It's how they're animated."
Angel looked at the golems in a new light, disturbed. "That's creepy. Why does it always have to be about blood?"
"But of course it is. Blood is powerful. You, a vampire of all creatures, should know." Vllk directed contempt at Angel.
"Hey. No arguments, here." Wesley cut the air with his extended hand. "More thinking, and solving."
"There's too much thinking," Angel muttered, sour. "Wouldn't mind more action."
Wentz was examining each of the cupboards in a vain hope for more food. "It's obvious, then. We need to get the dark ones back into the Pit."
"How?" Vllk snapped.
Angel raised a hand. "We put little pieces of candy down leading all the way to this Pit, and let them follow."
Vllk glared at Angel. "Your humour is ill-timed. We should ..." He halted his sentence, like a driver slamming down brakes in a car. Faith, outside and a fair distance away, was happily pounding one of the dark ones up. They identified it by its wispy horns, and the strangely amorphous shaping of a body formed by thought.
They all came to the window and watched. "Aren't they supposed to be incorporeal?" Wesley rested arms on the sill, enjoying the sight.
The darkwalker recoiled back in pain, form folding in on itself as Faith made contact with her fists. Holes exploded in its body, before they knitted up again. Each injury inflicted took longer and longer to repair.
A rattling sonic scream caused Angel to wince and clamp palms shut on his ears.
"What?" The humans glanced at him, apparently unaffected. The screaming continued.
"It's ..." Vllk scrutinised Angel's reaction, the posture of the dark one. "It's calling for help. We can't hear it, he can." The Czech's eyes expanded, owlish in his gaunt, sunken face. "Vampire, your candy trail idea may have merit." His voice trembled in excitement. "It may actually work! Yes!" In the energy of a mad genius, Vllk sprang for the door.
Angel didn't understand. "What are you doing?"
The Czech turned back and chuckled, tributaries entrenched in his features. "Ready to save the world?"
Wesley gasped. "Of course. I see what you intend." He joined Vllk by the door. "I'm certainly up for it."
Their mood infected Angel, even though he didn't know the idea in their heads. He didn't remove his hands from his ears, though. "Count me in."
The Inbetween, Faith POV
"I can't do it." Faith rolled in mid air, frustrated, ready to break something, except she couldn't touch a damn thing in this place. "Aaarrrgh! Fuck!"
Buffy listened to her outburst, half-amused and half-exasperated. "Yeah, that'll help."
Faith switched her frustration onto Buffy. "Don't see you doing anything. And I've been here ages. I want my body back!"
"Oh, I know the feeling."
"Don't you fucking start." Faith knew exactly what Buffy was referring to. It seemed years ago since the mayor's switching spell. The sudden memory of the mayor induced mixed feelings. Trust me to get an evil father-figure. Moisture pricked her eyes. She blinked it away, focusing back on her internal problem.
What's happening with my body at the moment?
Your friends, allies, whatever, are holed up in some random house. And you're pacing around killing randoms. Demons, that is. Not random people.
Demons?
Yup. All of them. It's quite impressive.
Really don't get why I can't see this, but you can. Faith clawed at the mental barrier separating her from the Inner Slayer, and her body. Again, she felt the oncoming suggestion of pain, growing more intense the closer she dug.
Work with me, the Inner Slayer, a.k.a Balkir, said. That's what your pushed for time PTB conduit told you to do.
I'm trying! Faith blasted the thought.
Not really. You're throwing a tantrum and you're fighting me.
Ugh!
Buffy floated closer, arms folded, eyebrow twitching, lips poised. "Hey. Rage-y," she said.
"What?"
"There's something we're doing wrong."
"Ya think?"
Buffy ignored the sarcasm. She reached to touch her hair out of habit, frowning when it didn't produce the same tactile pressure she was used to. "We're trying too hard to solve it by ourselves, trying to connect with our Slayers. I mean, we're both Slayers, right? We both have this thing in us. The same thing, even."
Faith bit back on her instinctual retort, grudgingly listening. "Go on."
"And usually there's only one Slayer, so ..." Buffy shrugged. "We're kinda split up, I guess." She smiled primly. "So we need to work on the link between us as well. Not just Balkir or whatever its name is. See? I wasn't doing nothing. I was thinking, too."
Faith growled to herself, but didn't dismiss Buffy's words. She knew she wasn't smart, that Buffy had the education. Still sucked to be reminded of it, though.
That's something. So you're split up between us?
Yes and no. I've developed a voice based on your own personality. That's unique. But my power is in both of you, yeah.
Uh.
The blonde waited, seeming to know Faith was consulting. "Well?" she said.
"You have an idea." Faith stated it.
Buffy nodded. "Yes. I thought ... maybe ... we could touch." She said the last words in a rush, uncomfortable.
"Huh?"
"Not like that!" Buffy blurted, her form briefly retracting. Realising what she just said, she blushed furiously.
"Like what?" Faith jumped on the opportunity, but suppressed the other words, the ones that wouldn't help. Even though they were really, really tempting.
"I mean we should like touch because we can feel each other's Slayer connection thing better." She rolled her eyes. "Or what passes for touching in this place."
Ah. At the mention of it, Faith sought out the Connection, the thrum that linked her to Buffy, there if she concentrated. Always there.
"Could that be why?" Faith whispered, her brain now opening up.
"Why what?"
"Why we feel it. This thing. 'Cause it's the same thing in both of us?"
"Could be." Buffy embraced Faith's path of thought. "It kinda makes sense. In a weird, mystical, what the hell our lives are totally insane kind of way."
Faith had to laugh at that. Something strange flickered in Buffy's expression.
"So. Shall we?" Buffy magnanimously held out her hands. Casually, Faith took them.
"Worth a shot." They both closed their eyes, finding it awkward to look at each other. A butterfly-light pressure lingered where their palms touched, where it should have been firm and warm, instead of like ghosts. Out of vague curiosity, Faith squeezed. The pressure remained the same.
It unnerved her. She struggled into some kind of focus. Presently, she felt Buffy fishing, searching with her mind, and tentatively reached out as well. A shock of energy fizzed through them when they connected - really connected.
And, suddenly, everything made sense. Their powers merged, increased. Their minds delved into one another. Faith understood Buffy on a fundamental level - not her memories, her past, but just who she was. Shame coursed inside. I can never be like that.
Buffy, however, had arrived at a very different conclusion. This is freaking amazing. I don't even know what this is but it's amazing. You're pretty amazing, too.
Uh.
You heard me. Deny it and I'll punch you in the face.
Faith laughed again. Oh, scary. Better be careful around you, Summers.
I see it! Buffy's triumph infused Faith. This is it, this is what we're meant to do.
Yes ... the Inner Slayer said. They both heard it. The voice spoke in both of them, unified.
Faith saw it too. She reached out for her own mind, her own body previously denied to her - and tumbled into it with a disorientating blur of scenery. Welcome light bit at her eyes. Dust travelled up her nose canals. Heat seared her arms, sweat made her clothes cling.
And there were demons all around.