Pawns of Prophecy

Part two

Realignment

Chapter nine

Buffy chose the meeting place more out of spite; very few places in Sunnydale were safe now and any place would have sufficed. The Watcher sent to broker peace sat in the lingerie department of a local clothing store. He looked decidedly uneasy, made worse by the fact that Buffy was late.

"Sorry to keep you," she said not too convincingly as she finally approached him. "We got side-tracked; they've got new stock in."

The man stood up as Buffy and Faith approached. This put him in full view of other customers. Just where to put his hands was forefront in his mind. However, he couldn't hide his disdain at seeing Faith. "What's she doing here?" he demanded, contempt clearly evident.

"She's a slayer and thus deserves your respect," Buffy declared failing to conceal her annoyance.

"She's a murderer!"

"So am I; I shot your colleague last year, or had you put that down to PMS?"

"I can justify it. The way the Council behaved last year was inexcusable, although I truly believe it wasn't their intention that your mother be harmed."

"Bygones…..Faith, you're awfully quiet."

"I'm just waiting for you to hit him. That and wondering whether to buy this wicked cool lingerie." Faith held up a delicate bra and panty set. "What do you think?" She pushed them close to the Watcher.

"Damn it! Will you be serious? These are important times; a war is being waged!"

Buffy's expression changed. "And we're on leave from the front line, so humour us why don't you."

A week had elapsed since Joss's memory recall. Demon attacks had increased daily and very few places were safe after dark or, to a disturbing extent, in daytime either. The gang were kept active day and night in shifts. The Council had contacted her on day seven.

"That front line is going to get crowded, Buffy."

She was taken aback by the use of her Christian name. Giles was the only Watcher who had ever been that comfortably informal; Wesley always seemed uneasy. Her initial thought was to admonish the envoy before her, but perhaps, she thought, a bridge had to be built. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Michael."

"Well, Michael, shall we go somewhere more…unisex?"

"Oh, yes please."

They threaded their way through the lingerie. Michael led the way at a speed that gave away his feeling of awkwardness.

"Say, Michael?" Faith asked from behind. "What do you think of this?" She held up a white cotton negligee. "Would it suit me or do you think it's too virginal?"

"Well if it is, it wouldn't be an issue for too long," he countered and turned back in the direction of the exit. Buffy gave Faith an amused expression; the man was apparently a quick study.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Over coffee and blueberry muffins, Michael explained that the Council were mobilising a small force of Watchers to assist with the fight against the demons in Sunnydale. The Child of Light would be flown over when they were sure that the situation was safe enough.

Buffy revealed that, as well as the Demon call up, the ranks of the Good had also expanded; Wesley and Cordelia had returned from Los Angeles with Gunn and his band of hunters. In total a force of over 30. Added to that, Riley and Oz had resumed their places in the student line up. Oz had come on Willow's request. Riley had turned up unexpectedly two days ago. Buffy recalled his entrance:

"You look well," she had said to her ex-lover. He stood in the doorway to Giles' shop. He remained stationary for so long that, for a brief frightening moment, she feared he had been turned into a vampire and was waiting to be invited in, or worse was a figment of her imagination. When he finally stepped over the threshold she nearly lowered her veil of indifference.

"Hi, man," Xander had said. He and Buffy had been talking before his arrival.

"Hello," Riley countered. He walked over to Buffy who had not moved to close the gap. "I heard you might need help here."

"We do," she accepted. "All the help we can get. Xander will fill you in on the details. I'll catch you later." She left the shop but overheard Xander speak.

"What did you expect, man? A hug and tears before bedtime? You left her alone, remember?" Later that evening Xander had reproached her for her behaviour towards the soldier. "You were harsh," he had said.

"What did you want me to say, or do?"

"Show some sentiment…."

"If I'm going to survive; I can't afford to be sentimental. I have to be harsh. He deserted me remember? Some day you might be faced with that and then you'll know. Wait for that time and then judge me." Xander didn't budge. "Oh, Xander! Why is it one minute we can be leaning on each other's shoulder and the next we're arguing?"

"Sounds like a perfect relationship to me. You never know, we could be an item in another reality."

"I don't know about that," she had countered. "But, I'd settle for this reality."

"….it's complicated," Xander had responded.

"From my side it's become a lot simpler, but….perhaps when all this is over, when we have more time to really think…."

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The Army of Good was stationed in Angel's former mansion; it was the only place in Sunnydale large enough to hold the nearly forty strong defenders. A warehouse would have been larger, but that would have put them too close to their enemies' territory. Buffy had mixed emotions spending time there again. She pushed back painful memories and supported herself with the knowledge that Angel was safe and happy in the reality that he now occupied.

Buffy introduced Michael to everyone. He looked suitably impressed. A room had been set up as crude hospital for anyone wounded in battle, and there were some occupants already there. Another was set aside for training. The large fireplace had been lit and chairs positioned round it. He was offered an armchair and given a cup of coffee. Buffy, Faith, Wesley and Gunn sat round him. They were the nominated leaders; Buffy and Faith for obvious reasons, Wesley because of the knowledge he possessed and Gunn in recognition of his skills and the fact that his group would answer only to him. Willow was part of the makeshift council as well due to her Wiccan abilities. She was with Tara elsewhere in the house, though.

"Michael," Wesley spoke up first. "Tell me, when did the Council first find out the prophecy was tainted?"

"About a week ago. I would have given anything to be there. One of my sources…"

"Sources? That sounds a bit covert for a something you already belong to." Wesley commented.

"Things have changed since you left, Wesley. The US branch spies on the English head office. In England they spar and plot for influence like a bad American soap opera. To now find they have been misled for centuries is particularly galling. The Council leader has ordered a thorough search of the archives for anything that would have given any warning. I pity the archivists; if they don't find anything they'll be considered useless. If they do discover something they will most probably be locked up for incompetence."

"Well, my heart bleeds for them," Faith uttered sarcastically from the end seat.

"Have you searched your records here?" Michael asked Wesley.

"We….we don't have many books here," he answered awkwardly. "There was a fire."

"Oh….I understand. I had forgotten. I never got the opportunity to meet Mr Giles. Although he was persona non grata, there were many of us who acknowledged his wisdom and recognise a talent lost." Buffy smiled her gratitude. "What are your immediate plans?" Michael asked.

"We've received a tip that a group of demons have occupied the Mall. We plan to raid and flush them out," Buffy

explained.

"Is that the only location you have record of?"

"Oh no, believe me they're everywhere. But that's the largest grouping we are definitely aware of. Gunn will take his group there. Faith and myself will patrol separately around town to weed it of stragglers."

"Can I accompany you?" The Watcher asked the slayer. "I'm fairly proficient at combat, so wouldn't be too much of a hindrance." Buffy accepted the offer of company.

Gunn stood up and excused himself; he wanted to brief his hunters. Faith went with him. Wesley and Michael then left to chat Watcher stuff. Buffy remained seated. She looked at the fire burning, concentrating on the flames flickering in an attempt to avoid specific memories filling the gap that the cessation of conversation had left. The effort caused her to miss Tara's approach. She looked up startled when the enigmatic Wicca, who had previously been regarded as just Willow's friend, stood opposite her.

"I have to leave. It's nearly March; my busiest time," she said cryptically, "I have other responsibilities."

Buffy wasn't surprised. "Willow?" She asked simply.

"We've said our goodbyes. In fact, you might want to see her; she took it quite hard. I left her a present, though. Don't worry." Tara said suddenly, looking into Buffy's eyes. "I'm sure everything will turn out right, as Nature intended." She then walked in the direction of the door. Her presence, however, dissipated before she reached the exit.

Buffy stood and went to look for her friend. She found her sitting on the edge of one of the beds lined up in a room on the floor above. She was cradling Amy, stroking the rat's fur. It was apparent she had been crying but appeared calm now. When she saw Buffy standing in the doorway she put Amy on to the next bed. "Tara's gone," she said simply.

"I know." Buffy approached her closest friend and sat alongside her.

"What is with the two us and partners?" Willow complained. "You fall for a vampire with a soul who cannot return your love, followed by a soldier with a death phobia, and I lose myself with a …well I don't know exactly what Tara is."

"And there's the werewolf as well," Buffy teased.

"Hey, comfort wanted here."

Buffy smiled. "Tara said she left you a present."

"Yes, a spell. Here, she wrote it down," Willow offered her the piece of paper. Buffy refused to take it.

"You're the witch. Why don't you try it?"

Willow unfolded the sheet and recited the words.

"Powers that be,

please aid our plight.

A spell cast in haste

cannot be set right.

In our time of need, please amend.

Correct the mistake

and restore our friend."

"That's so Sabrina!" Buffy said.

"Yeah, and you're the pink Power Ranger," Willow responded petulantly.

They were both jumped out of their concentration by a scream from the bed next to them. Sitting opposite them was Amy. She was distinctly lacking in fur and whiskers. Clothing was sorely missed as well.

"Oh, my," said Xander from the doorway. "Hi, Amy. Welcome back."

Buffy and Willow took several moments to respond to the spell's result before they embraced their friend. Amy cried tears of relief and gratitude.

"Uh, Xander," Buffy glanced up from the bed. "Could you sort of make yourself scarce or I'll tell Anya you've been looking at another woman again."

When Xander pulled himself away from the scene Buffy helped herself to some spare clothes from one of female hunter's bags and passed them to Amy.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

The former students of Sunnydale high sat round the fire. Amy was the centre of attention; the return of their old school friend to human form was probably the most positive thing to have happened to them since Graduation Day.

"It's so good to be on two legs again," the restored Wicca offered.

"I only wish you had returned to less interesting times," Buffy said. They had brought their friend up to date on everything that happened in the several months that had passed. Everything since the night she had transformed herself into a rat to escape the witch burning.

"I could do with a pizza," Amy said suddenly. "With everything on it. I'm starving."

"I only fed you this evening," Willow added.

"Oh, right. What was it…..yeah, sunflower seeds. The same as yesterday and the day before."

"And an apple."

"I forgot that, thank you, but I could really do with some meat….and ice cream! You don't know how much torture it was watching you eat that in your college dorm, and hear you talk about what you had in the canteen…"

"You could see and hear what we did from your cage?" Buffy asked uneasily.

"Oh yes."

"What, everything?" Willow put in.

"Oh yes. Especially when you stopped putting the sheet over the cage."

Buffy and Willow blushed and Amy giggled. When she realised how much she enjoyed the emotion she laughed again. Xander's imagination was on overdrive.

"We didn't realise you were so sentient as a rat," Buffy said eventually. "Otherwise we would have been more….."

"Thoughtful," Willow helped.

"Careful," said Buffy.

Anya smiled, still highly amused.

"Since you were so aware of your humanity, I guess the metal wheel was kind of patronising," Willow added

embarrassed.

"Actually, I rather enjoyed the wheel. Mind you, the plastic run around ball was just plain sadistic."

Chapter ten

The hunter took out the CCTV that overlooked the entrance to the Mall. It was just a precaution; Willow had assured them she had neutralised all the cameras by hacking into their mainframe. Another of Gunn's group prized open the large sliding doors. The large band of vigilantes paraded into the brightly lit shopping centre. Cordelia and Wesley took the lead with Gunn.

"I still don't think it was necessary for you to come along," Wesley whispered ungraciously to Cordelia.

"Yeah right, and you would know your way around here, I'm sure. Before my tax exile status this used to be my second home. Anyway, what are you doing here?"

"Looking after you."

"That's so typical of a man; thinking a woman needs protecting. That he's capable of doing it. It's also kind of sweet, though," she conceded.

"What can I say? It's the English in me."

They all moved further into the Mall. Keeping to the edges of the wide avenues, their bodies reflected in the closed

shop windows, they inched forward.

"I don't like this, Gunn," Wesley said from behind the leader of the group. "We're too enclosed and there's only two main exits."

"There are fire exits too, Watcher. We've fought in more confined spaces, believe me."

"If we were looking for Xander," Cordelia thought out loud, "I would search the food hall. The video arcade would be a good place for Oz. But, where would vampires and other nasties hang out?"

They came to a V-shaped intersection. The large space was occupied by seating around a fountain, and by two banks of escalators extending to the upper floor. "Cordelia?" Gunn motioned to the ex-cheerleader.

"Both avenues eventually join again about two hundred yards further down. To the left are designer clothes, the right is Nerd Street…computers, a video arcade and a fantasy comic shop etc." She pointed up. "The food halls are up there."

"OK, we go left. Two will remain here and keep look out."

All but the nominated two headed down the left intersection. They reached the end, where an identical fountain stood, and were about to turn into the other avenue to return to the atrium, when they heard whistles being blown. This was signal for danger and the sound came from the previous fountain. The whistles stopped to be replaced by screams. Gunn led the charge back. However, they stopped half way when they saw their quarry. Demons, too many to count, blocked their exit. The hunters all knew there was too many to force their way through and too many to fight a winning battle.

"Let off some bolts here then we retreat to the rear exit. We must dent their numbers a little and then get back to inform the others what size force we're up against." Gunn directed everyone forward several yards before getting them to stop suddenly and fire their crossbows. Several demons were killed in the wave of bolts that hit the front ranks. However, their aim was not accurate enough to hit hearts and those that were vampires were able to continue their charge. Other monsters from the rear joined them. Another wave was fired at them, but the advance of the enemy was faster and able to climb over each front rank that fell before.

The hunters backed up, firing at random now. Gunn gave the order to retreat when he realised they were about to be overrun. Hopefully they could escape without losing any more than the two that died earlier. His hopes were given a severe knock when he saw another large group approaching them from behind. They were being squeezed in to an ever-decreasing fighting zone.

"Gunn!" Cordelia cried. "The stairs…over there. They lead to the upper floor. From there we could take the walk way to the multi level car park."

They made their escape via Cordelia's suggested route. When they reached the top of the stairs their enemy was still gaining on them. Gunn pushed his way through the swing doors and found himself in the food hall. Several themed restaurants were laid out; Philippino, Mexican and Chinese were the nearest, and he could see an Olde English cake shop on the other side, across the wide space that separated the sides of the Mall.

"The car park exit is down to the left and on the other side of the atrium, pass the escalators to the ground floor." Cordelia pointed ahead, but cut off her directions when she saw several figures emerge from the kitchens to block another escape route. This time, however, the numbers didn't seem too uneven.

"OK, ten of you stay here and hold off those behind us. They have to come through the doors, which will restrict their ability to charge en masse. I want you to load and fire in two ranks, backing away all the time. The rest of us will do the same only heading forward. Pick your targets well. If you can't guarantee a heart wound don't fire at a vampire as you will only waste your bolts."

Four rows of five men and women were formed. , two facing the doors, two facing the tables. The doors burst open and demons poured out. The front rank let loose five bolts and stood behind the rear rank that then fired five more. The latter then stepped back and the former, who had had time to reload fired again. The other ranks of archers did the same to the enemy blocking the escape route. Slowly all four ranks edged closer to freedom, but they were too slow and the ground being made up was still too far from the car park. Eventually their bags were empty of cross bow bolts. As one the hunters tied their bows to their backs and pulled out daggers and short swords.

"Everyone! We fight our way forward to the car park. Once there split up into groups of two and make your way back to base. Good luck!"

They charged the tables, swords held high. Wesley and Cordelia joined in. Wesley felt alive for the first time in his life. He lashed out left and right, shouting all the time. Finding himself surrounded, he sliced down to the right opening up a horned demon's stomach. He then swung round on his feet and swept the sword up creating a vertical wound on a vampire behind him. He followed this with a thrust of a knife held in his other hand to its heart. The adversary burst into dust to reveal a comrade standing directly behind it. Wesley drove his sword through its ribcage and pulled it out again, his other hand pressed against its stomach as leverage to assist the exit through bone and cartilage. By now adrenaline had made him high. He held sword and knife up and shouted a berserker cry of challenge and triumph. Thirty years of Watcher obedience, bureaucracy and control were erased in seconds.

Coming to his senses, though, he continued to fight his way forward. He realised that several hunters were down, but they were closer to freedom. He then saw Cordelia. She was with another hunter who was lashing out, frantically trying to defend them both. They were now up against the railings of the atrium, their backs arched back whilst their swords lashed forward. Two demons got in too close and Cordelia's protector was taken down, his throat ripped out. The second demon grabbed Cordelia by her waist.

"No!" Wesley cried out. He made his way to her but had to negotiate past three demons to get to her. She was lifted up by her nemesis, her legs kicking out wildly but ineffectually, and tossed over the side of the railings. She screamed as she descended. Wesley fought his way to the side and looked over. He saw her lying on her back. Her legs were sickeningly twisted. He headed to the nearest escalator.

"Wesley! Where are you going?" Gunn called out.

"To Cordelia!"

"Don't be stupid. She's probably already dead."

"Probably is but might not. You go, I'll find my own way back!"

Wesley bounded three steps at a time down the motionless escalator. He was six feet away from Cordelia's still form when he conceded she was dead. He continued his approach, however. Kneeling down he lifted her to a seated position and sat with her nestled in his arms before eventually hoisting her over his shoulder. It was then that he saw the group of monsters in front of him. He heard the footsteps of others from behind. Wesley sighed. He gently put Cordelia's body down and faced his enemy, sword and knife back in his hands. They approached slowly and formed a circle round him. Some had seen him fighting on the other level and were apprehensive to test his skill. Wesley tired of the waiting. He charged forward. He made ten yards, taking down one foe per foot gained before he fell to the horde.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Faith entered Willy's Bar. It was the end of that night's patrolling and she felt unfulfilled; she had met no demons to cast her unique judgement upon. She noticed Spike hunched over a table, hugging an empty bottle of Jack Daniels.

"Oh great, just what I needed." The bleach-blonde vampire uttered when he saw the slayer approach.

"What're you doing here, Spike? Why aren't you standing at the gates of the Hell mouth holding it open for your fiends?"

"Not bloody likely. You can all fight your war without me. Willy! A drink for my executioner."

Faith put on a disgusted expression. "Don't be such a drama queen. How long has he been here, Willy?" She asked the owner as he brought over a full bottle.

"Since 5pm," the small weasel like man answered desperately. "..…yesterday." He put the bottle and two glasses on the table and after affording a brief pained plea to the girl he left his unwelcome customers alone.

"I don't know why he complains," Spike commented whilst twisting off the bottle top and filling Faith's glass. He took a swig from the bottle. "I pay for my drinks. If I didn't come here profits would plummet."

Faith sat down. She put her stake on the table in front of her; an automatic action as she always had it near to hand. Spike looked at it as though she were rubbing salt into an already festering wound. She removed the weapon and slipped it into her right boot. "So, why the marathon session? Do you think I might have the chance of being on the winning side this time?" She asked adopting a light-hearted approach.

"50/50," Spike answered morosely. "For me it's a no win situation. If my kind, as you insist on calling them, win, the Hell mouth stays permanently open. If we lose, it's back to Hell for me. Either way it's an unwelcome change of scenery. I can just see the weather forecast – drought, pestilence and death followed by scattered showers. Contrary to popular literature, most of us like this mobile restaurant we call the World; I like trees, green grass and clean rivers. The prospect of molten lava and dead vegetation holds no appeal at all. I blame Tolkien," he ended eventually with another swig of alcohol.

"Wow, that was especially emotive. I'm bloody depressed now." Faith teased.

"What're you doing here, anyway? Why aren't you out there committing genocide on anything that doesn't meet Council parameters?"

"Cheer up! I've always resisted killing you because you know how to have a good time. But I'm sorely tempted to put you out of your misery."

"Sod off, killer!"

Faith shoved their table to one side. It flipped over and collided with the one next to them. The two demon occupants stood up and threatened to teach her a lesson. Faith glared at them. "Just try it! I've not killed anything yet tonight and I've got energy to spare."

They thought better of it and moved to an empty table in the far corner. Faith turned to Spike. "And you!" She spat. "You're like a man with no balls; useless."

Spike swung his arm in a wide arc. His fist hit Faith's cheek hard and sent her stumbling back. She stayed standing, however, and rammed her head into his stomach. Spike collided backwards into another table behind him; the momentum made more effective by the added weight of the slayer as follow through.

"Hey!" Willy screamed. "I know the end of the world is nigh, but do you have to fight the battle in my bar?"

The protagonists ignored his pleas and continued: With Spike on his back and Faith sitting astride him, the Slayer gripped his ears and began striking the floor with the back of his head. Spike desperately gripped her by the throat and rolled them both over. Pressing his advantage, he jumped up and landed a kick to her rib cage. Faith slid a few inches across the floor on the strength of the kick and spilt Jack Daniels. She stood up, grabbed an unbroken chair and disassembled it across Spike's left shoulder. As he reeled against the impact she followed it with a kick to his groin. Despite her earlier jibe, the vampire doubled up in pain: his legs giving way. Faith upper cut his chin, which sent him returning to the floor behind him.

"Yes!" She shouted in triumph, punching the air. "John Wayne eat your heart out!" She punched the air again. As if in support of her victory loud explosions erupted from outside; dust fell from the ceiling and bottles and glasses shook orchestrally on their shelves to the impact of the violence being wrought elsewhere. "What the fuck is that?" She exclaimed turning to the door.

"Like I said; the end of the world is nigh," Willy answered ominously.

Faith turned towards the barkeep puzzled. She then made to leave.

"Where are you going?" Spike taunted a few feet away. He was back on his feet. "Abandoning a fight. That's not like you."

"What's up, Spike. You still depressed?"

"No I'm not! I'm psyched!" He answered. Then he suddenly realised and his expression changed to horror. "You mean you started the fight to cheer me up?"

"Yea. Call it charity," she said twisting an unseen blade.

"That's nasty."

"I know, I'm a bitch, but a bitch that beat your ass," she countered, a broad grin on her face. "See you around." She left the bar and found Sunnydale lit up with fires and ringing with more explosions. The air smelt like the 4th of July. She strode through the streets back to the Mansion; a mixture of curiosity, excitement and a little twinge of fear fighting for dominion in her mind.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

Earlier Buffy and Michael had decided to call it a night: more out of boredom than any sense of it being time to retire.

"I don't like to complain," Michael said. "But, I was expecting a bit more activity."

"You're as bad as my father."

"You took your father on patrol!" Michael blurted incredulously.

Buffy smiled. "It was a bonding exercise. He only joined me one time."

"You are the most extraordinary slayer."

"Extraordinary or just long-lived?" She probed good-humouredly.

"Both really. You have been the subject of much debate…..heated debate for two years now."

"I'm sure I have. I'm probably a thorn in your side. If forced to admit it, I kind of enjoy twisting it."

"Not everyone has been disapproving of your conduct, Buffy. Some of us recognise that the World would be a far worse place without the deeds you have done. We have a lot to be happy about."

"Yea?" Buffy looked away, feeling slightly embarrassed. "When we get the Hell mouth closed there'll be no need for a slayer. The World can be an even happier place then," she said bitterly.

"Happier the land that needs no heroes." Michael recited.

"That sounds suspiciously like a quote."

"A misquote. But then, I am from the American branch of the Council."

"I'm insulted; they sent an inferior to broker for peace," Buffy joked.

"I aspire to be inferior; no one expects much of me then. Get to know your limits, Buffy."

"I know them already. I vowed to protect Joss, though. And I will see the Promised Land," she added glancing away.

Explosions suddenly rocked the air.

To be continued. Please review.