The car door closed behind Buffy, and Tara immediately wanted to call her back. Faith and Willow whispered quietly and intently in the front seat, still discussing the move to Sunnydale High School. That left her alone with Englemann and Walsh.
Both of them stared at her.
It was an uncomfortable situation. Tara tried to meet their combined gazes – and lasted less than a minute. Her face heated (actually, her entire body) and her heart rate raced.
"Perhaps you can talk some sense into the rest of the group?" Professor Walsh leaned closer to Tara and smiled. "There really isn't any need to hold us hostage, Miss…?"
"M-Maclay," Tara stuttered automatically.
"Miss Maclay. I'm sure we can clear up this whole mess in the morning." Walsh gestured toward Englemann. "The Colonel and I are scientists. That's all. We aren't a threat to anyone." Her voice grew softer, almost conspiratorial. "I'd be happy to show you the research we're working on. You might find it interesting."
That was true. "Yes. Yes, I would." Tara managed to scoot another few inches away from Walsh and fought a shudder. The woman was crazy. Did she really think she could convince Tara they'd made a mistake? That they'd misinterpreted the lab and the experiments?
Apparently so. "Perfect." Walsh's smile widened as if she sensed victory at hand. "Then the Colonel and I will just…"
"Sit your sorry asses down," Faith interrupted tersely. "If ya' don't, I'll have to make you." She turned in the front seat and glowered. "And B ain't here to keep things friendly. I gotta come back there, you won't be havin' fun."
Tara barely restrained an inappropriate giggle at Faith's threat. She sounded like a stereotypical parent with a child.
"How about I use a little spell to keep them quiet, honey?" Willow asked – and Tara's amusement evaporated. "That book I borrowed from Giles last week had a kickass binding spell, and I'm pretty sure I remember all the words."
"That w-won't be nec-cessary." No way was Tara letting Willow do any magic, let alone an unknown, untested spell. Pinning Walsh and Englemann with a steely glare, she continued. "Will it, Professor?" The woman had to know about the dangers of magic. Ethan was part of her plans.
It appeared, though, that Walsh wasn't as smart as she pretended. Instead of agreeing with Tara, she snorted. "Surely you don't expect me to believe Miss Rosenberg has any kind of arcane ability?"
Willow lurched forward until her upper body loomed over the back of the seat. "I'll show you…"
A sudden surge in the ambient energy in the Jeep sent Tara internally scrambling. Her right hand snapped up as she whispered a single harsh word. Thanks to the need for speed – and a desire to illustrate to her entire audience the efficacy of real magic – a shimmering wall of blue energy sprang up between Willow and Walsh. "Sit down," Tara ordered, "and be quiet." She left it up to the rest of the group in the Jeep to decide to whom the command was meant.
For the first time in Tara's life, people listened to her. Walsh froze, the sneer still twisting her lips, and Willow stared at Tara with wide, shocked eyes. Carefully grounding the energy she'd borrowed, Tara slowly settled back in the seat.
Tara only had a few minutes to enjoy the fruits of her labor, however. "We got company," Faith announced tersely.
"S-soldiers?" Tara asked, wondering how they'd found them so quickly.
"Looks like. Kinda hard to tell." Reaching up, Faith flicked the switch on the interior dome light, ensuring it would remain off, and then cracked the driver's side door. "I keep bitchin' at the super to get the lights out here fixed. Even Slayer sight ain't good enough to see right now. I'm gonna check it out." She turned and looked at Tara. "You and Red'll have to keep the Brain Trust from runnin'."
The words didn't make sense. "Wh-what?" Tara frowned.
"Go ahead, Faith. We can take care of it." Willow had apparently followed the conversation. Or, Tara realized as she shook off her confusion, she didn't seem to understand that using magic wasn't a cure-all. "You saw what Tara did a minute ago. Walsh and Englemann won't get away, I promise."
Great. Willow promised the hostages would still be in the Jeep. Tara didn't have time to point out that she hadn't vowed anything of the sort. In fact, she would have explained how drained she was and how dangerous it would be for her to try anything more complicated than a prayer right now.
Unfortunately, Faith hopped out of the SUV while Tara was marshalling her arguments.
The new silence in the car felt different than before. The balance of power had altered. Walsh and Englemann no longer huddled in fear. In fact…Shifting until her back was against the rear passenger-side door, Tara glared in what she devoutly hoped was a menacing fashion at the two scientists.
Goddess, Buffy needed to get back soon, or they were going to have a problem.
***
"Were we incorrect in assuming the threat was on the university campus?" Giles must have missed Buffy's comment about not having time to explain. Buffy could almost feel him staring at her in bemusement.
Stuffing stakes and daggers into a duffel bag, she pointedly ignored him. "You'll have to take Mom and the supplies in your car, Giles," Buffy finally said. Then, realizing neither of the adults had actually moved, she spun and glared. "Look, we have to hurry. Things got a little freaky on campus and we have to leave."
Giles' mouth opened.
"And don't ask any more questions. When we get to the high school, I'll explain." Or try to. Buffy wasn't sure she understood everything herself. Maybe she'd give explanation duty to Willow. "Right now, stop staring and start packing."
Not waiting for a response, Buffy decided she had plenty of small weapons and trotted down the hallway. Faith kept the heavy duty pieces in the bedroom. The duffel bag wasn't big enough for the two swords or the crossbow. Feeling like a tiny Rambo, she looped the crossbow over one shoulder and rigged the swordbelts across the other. The tips dragged the ground with every step as Buffy made a final examination of the weapons cabinet. A pair of matching sais and a pile of crossbow bolts filled the last space in the duffel bag.
It was time to leave. At least, that was Buffy's intention – until she spotted Willow's computer on the bed. Slayers used sharp, pointy objects. Genius budding witches were more deadly with the Internet. Buffy inexpertly crammed the laptop and power cord into the padded backpack she found stuffed next to Willow's nightstand and staggered back into the living room.
"We're ready, honey." Joyce stood by the door with plastic grocery sacks bulging with food looped over her arms and shoulders. "I sent Rupert down to get his car." Her lips twitched. "I thought he might need the extra time to get it started."
Buffy chuckled. "That's low, Mom." And yet, true. "I think you've been spending too much time with Faith." She eased past Joyce and opened the apartment door. "Stay close and be ready to run," she cautioned, warning replacing humor. "We created a diversion on campus, but…"
Nodding, Joyce met Buffy's eyes. "I read the Slayerette Handbook, Buffy. I know the rules. You lead; I follow."
"Thanks." Buffy slid out of the apartment and paused. She could faintly hear cars idling in the parking lot, and a dog barked in one of the nearby units. The scent of curry burned her nose. Her Slayer senses, though, remained blip free. "Let's go," she ordered softly, hitching the swordbelts higher on her shoulders.
She couldn't use Slayer speed on the trip back to the Jeep. Each step, each scrape of scabbard on concrete, each shift in the wind caused Buffy to twitch. They had to hurry.
They were. Buffy heard Joyce panting as they cleared the final step. "Oh, shit! Find Giles, Mom. Now!" Sprinting for the Jeep, Buffy hoped her mother followed orders. The SUV rocked in the parking space, and she glimpsed bodies flailing around inside. What the hell was Faith doing in there?
When she finally arrived at the Jeep and wrenched the driver's side passenger door open, it became clear that Faith wasn't doing anything. Faith wasn't among the bodies sprawled on and over the seats.
"Hey, Buff!" Winded and flushed, Willow still managed a bright smile. "Tara and I had things under control. Walsh wasn't getting away." She wiggled her right hand where it was tangled in the professor's lab coat.
Buffy chose not to argue that point – even though Walsh's escape had more than likely been imminent. "Thanks for taking care of things," she said smoothly. Reaching out, she gripped a free spot on Walsh's coat and forcibly rearranged her on the back seat. "You know, I left Faith here to handle the physical stuff. We're saving you and Tara for the fireworks later." It took all her self control not to come right out and ask why Faith wasn't in the SUV.
Tara's head suddenly appeared at the far side of the Jeep. "Sh-she s-saw som-something." Even in the dark, Buffy saw the bright blush staining her cheeks as the stuttering words ground to a halt.
Wait. The blush didn't look right. Pressing Walsh into the seatback and roughly shoving the Colonel out of the way, Buffy leaned into the vehicle. "Tara, you're hurt!" A bruise marred the skin under Tara's left eye and there was a line of scratches on her neck.
Faith was history. Buffy silently vowed to...explain the responsibilities of staying behind with the support crew the next time they squared off on the practice mats.
"N-no." Buffy wasn't surprised at Tara's immediate denial. "I'm f-fine."
"No," Buffy echoed. "You're not fine." Reaching out, she gently brushed the bruised skin. "Not fine at all." Her fingertips tingled. "Who was it?" Buffy would take care of the culprit – right after her talk with Faith.
A slow smile answered Buffy's demand. "Why? So you c-can turn Cave Bu-Buffy loose?" Tara took Buffy's hand, pulling it away from her face. "You don't have to do that. I'm fine. It's only a bruise, B-Buffy. I've had worse."
That wasn't the point, Buffy wanted to protest. She didn't. Looking into Tara's eyes, she glimpsed a hint of old pain. Not wanting to add to those obviously unwelcome memories, Buffy gave in. "I'll keep Cave Buffy under wraps. This time. If it happens again, though, I won't be responsible for my actions. It'll be hair pulling and heavy clubs all the way."