The disclaimer for this chapter was stolen by aliens, who claimed to be working for JKR. I don't know why they're interfering with a Buffy story. Anyhow, I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer, or any associated properties. And if anything is missing, blame the aliens.

A jackhammer slams into her gut as fire stabs into her heart, forcing Faith's eyes open again. She vomits out a stream of water, and coughs until her lungs feel like they're bleeding. Opening her eyes, she tries to look around. Her head is restrained, strapped to some sort of board. In fact, her entire body is restrained. She soaking wet, upside-down, and…yup, naked too. So, she was drowned, revived, and, well, that's now.

Faith coughed again to try and clear her throat. Still feels like sandpaper, but that won't stop her. "What's going on?" she croaked out.

"It's unfortunately simple, my dear. I drowned you, until death set in, and then revived you. Just like happened to Buffy a year and a half ago. With one difference." A familiar voice answered her.

"Elliott? Why?" she demanded of the man she had started to think of as her Watcher.

"The difference being that I have managed to trap the Slayer spirit fountainhead, if you will, inside of you. Hence the magic circle, and the runes along your body. I apologize for the nudity, but the alternative was having you sit around in wet clothing, which would be unhealthy." Marston responded in a maddeningly calm tone.

"You killed me you son of a bitch! The hell you care about my health! When I get out of here, I'ma rip your head off!"

"You won't be getting out of here, Faith. Haven't you figured it out yet? I'm re-creating the circumstances that twinned the Slayer line, except I'm keeping the line with you. I owe Miss Rosenberg a debt of gratitude there, her research was the last part I needed for the ritual to keep the line anchored in you."

Faith felt a chill that had nothing to do with her wet, naked state. She wasn't an expert in dealing with crazies, but you didn't spend time on the streets without picking some of the essentials up, and Elliott Marston was the dangerous kind of crazy. Not because she was at his potentially non-existent mercy, though that didn't help, but because he was inspired. He Believed, and nothing was going to change his mind.

"What d'ya plan on doing with an extra Slayer? It's not like three of us is a huge improvement over two of us." Faith was desperate to keep him talking. If he was talking, he wasn't drowning her.

"And you still fail to understand. I don't want one extra Slayer. At any time, the council is aware of fifty to one hundred potentials, with at least that many unknown. I don't plan for one extra. I plan for an army."

Faith opened her mouth to argue, but the water rushed up to greet her, and the breath in her lungs was forced out by the electrodes on her diaphragm.

Pain and light greeted her once more, and again she threw up two lung-fulls of water. This time, she was aware of Marston speaking over her retching.

"Each time I drown and revive you, another Slayer is chosen. I would do this in a continuous loop if not for the fact that I have to re-stabilize the ritual after each death, which is an annoying delay. Still, at this rate, I should manage fifty by sunrise. Of course, you'll start experiencing brain damage after the fifth time or so, and regress to a vegetative state sometime between the twentieth and thirtieth time, but that's unfortunately unavoidable. I don't have any particular grudge against you, or any real desire for you to suffer, but one does as one must." Marston spoke in an even, clipped tone, his normal drawling accent minimized due to his focus.

Gasping for breath, her head swimming, Faith desperately tried to think of something to distract him. "I doubt that the Slayer spirit will stick around in a vegetable, what with the whole mystical warrior thing going on, y'know?"

"It's happened before. The council black archives, where the truly dirty deeds are buried, tell tales of Slayers who survived grievous head wounds, but were little more than drones. The Slayer spirit did not leave, and even started to heal the poor creatures. It was estimated that they would have returned to functionality after a decade or so, though without any memories of their original personalities. As you may have deduced by now, the council lacks patience, and the girls were executed, so the strength of the Slayer could pass on. I expect the same to happen to you."

Faith had been scared before. Seeing Kakistos kill Diana had turned her blood to ice, and taken from her everything but the ability to flee. Some of her experiences from before she became the Slayer back on the streets of Boston visited her nightmares to this day. But she'd never been quite as terrified as she was now, held captive by this well-spoken Englishman who planned on killing her all night.

"Elliott, you can't do this!" Faith begged desperately.

"I've done it twice so far. And it has worked. So it appears that yes, I can."

Faith was once more plunged into the water, and had the air torn from her lungs.

As she came to a third time, spewing and in agony, Faith knew despair. Her limbs felt like lead, and her heart ached with each beat. Things seemed sluggish and blurry, but snapped into focus moments later in a demonstration of Slayer healing that she didn't really appreciate at the time.

She'd tried breaking her way out (strength without leverage is easily neutralized), and she'd tried talking her way out (but reasoning with a madman is futile). She was out of ideas, and terrified that she would start slipping away a piece at a time, her brain rotting from lack of oxygen. Marston was speaking again, but she didn't care. All she could hear was her heartbeat thundering in her ears, beating off-tempo, and getting louder.

As she realized that she wasn't hearing her heart, the door shattered.

Buffy rose to her feet amidst the splinters of the door. Faith was shackled to a metal slab above a tank of water, inside an elaborate runic circle. A further protective ward contained Marston and his bizarre ritual set-up. She glared at the Watcher as Willow and Giles started analyzing the runes, and Oz and Cordelia held Xander back.

Marston grabbed a large pistol from the table next to him and closed his book with a small sigh.

"I suppose that I made an error somewhere in covering my tracks? I'm impressed at how quickly you found me." He stated calmly.

"You remember the whole conversation we had in my mom's living room a few hours ago? How Faith and I share the Slayer spirit? Well, when you try to cut it off from me, it's pretty damn noticeable." Buffy spat at him.

Marston winced, but his hand didn't waver. "Should have thought of that. Getting sloppy in my old age. And you immediately suspected me?"

"Willow and Giles tried a tracking spell on Faith, and when that didn't work, one on you, since we couldn't find you either. We didn't suspect it was you behind this until we got here and the only car was yours." Buffy tensed her muscles, ready to leap as soon as her brain trust figured out what would happen when she crossed the ward line.

"I thank you for the undeserved charity. I won't bother defending my actions, as they are quite indefensible. Miss Lehane will be able to explain what happened, eventually, but as the ends truly don't justify the means…" At this point, Elliott dropped the book he was holding into a brazier, watching it flare up improbably high, and consume the journal very quickly. "…I would rather that no-one can attempt to re-create my method. Rupert, you should read my other notes. There are things you have not considered about the Hellmouth, and far worse out there than I. Lie to the council. They should not know what happened here."

"Do you really think we're going to let you go after this?" Buffy snarled at him, trying to ignore the echoing growl from Xander.

"I didn't plan on letting it get that far." Elliott shrugged, put the gun to his temple and fired.

Everyone froze in shock as Marston fell to the floor, half his head painted against the wall and ceiling. The runic circles both flashed and faded slightly, prompting Giles to run over and start freeing Faith. Buffy stood stunned for a moment and rushed to join him and Xander, who had beat her to the punch. Willow and Cordelia looked paled, and Oz escorted them out to get some fresh air and avoid the puddle of brains.

As soon as she was free, Faith clung to Buffy and Xander and cried. A small part of her head was screaming at her for being weak in front of others, but she ignored it for the sheer relief of being alive.

After a few moments, Buffy untangled herself from the brunette Slayer. "Sorry Faith. I'm glad you're alive, I truly am, but we only have a short while before the whole urge to kill rises, and I'd prefer to avoid that after the day you've had. Rain check with chocolate ice cream for the weekend?"

Faith wiped her eyes and tried to pull herself together, forgetting she was wrapped around Xander wearing nothing. "I'll let you off the hook this time, B, but only 'cause I know you're tired from patrol, and I'd hate to embarrass you in a fight."

Buffy smiled at the bravado before leaving the room.

AN: And the turn. First off, please let me know if you think this chapter upgrades the rating to M. I don't think it does, but I'm also callous and desensitized, so my judgment might be off here.

Second, feel free to ask about the ritual. I have the entire thing planned out (aside from the actual magic, being that, y'know, reality?), but explaining the whole thing would have interrupted the flow of the chapter.

Third, what do you think of the new twists? Who will be chosen? Will I bother including them in story in the foreseeable future? Only time will tell.

And lastly, please review. It encourages me, though some might see that as a bad thing.

Thanks.