Faith ordered pizza, and as they were waiting for it to be delivered, she stretched on her bed, feeling the bruises that were forming from those vamps. "Why do I remember things being easier before?"
"How should I know that one, Faith? Wait, does it have to do with this Mellie person that you mentioned?" Mort was inspecting his shirt, trying to find out if that green demon had slashed it open. There had been other concerns outside.
"Probably." Folding her hands behind her head, Faith closed her eyes, remembering her Watcher – her real Watcher, not that imposter Gwendolyn Post or the inept Wesley, but Mellie. The way that Mellie would carefully ask how things had gone, even occasionally helping on the sweeps through the cemeteries. Mellie who hadn't made her feel like a freak about this destiny thing. "She wanted to help me be the best Slayer that I could. To be familiar with any weapon, in case I had to improvise, or ran into something that thought swords or axes was the way to go. She'd check me over for injuries, and patch me up if I got hurt."
"What about your family?" Mort's question was low, curious.
"I never knew my dad. He was just… some guy that my mom dated a long time ago, someone that bailed on her after he knocked her up. After that, there was a string of bad boyfriends… Thank God I was an only child. Mellie showed up, and my mom was only too happy to send me off with her. That way, she didn't have to worry about me at all, and I wasn't costing her any more money." Faith could almost taste the bitterness in her voice, almost hear the remembered arguments. How her mother had blamed her for ruining her life, saying that if she'd never gotten pregnant, things would be better. The way that her mom would get so caught up in whoever it was that month that she'd forget about cooking, forget to feed her child. How she'd always known that she was unplanned, the bane of her mothers life.
"Faith, it's… well, not okay, but you aren't that girl anymore. You're not your mother's problem, and it sounds like she had plenty of her own anyhow. You don't have to go alone. I might not have any clue what that demon tonight was, or any other particular demon, but I'm not going to abandon you." Mort was looking at her, his face solemn.
Faith opened her mouth, half intending to brush him off, but then she stopped. He hadn't been trying to tell her that all was well, or trying to feed her a line to get a little Faith. He was just… Mort was just feeling as alone in this cruel, harsh world as she was. She was the only chance he had for any sort of company, the only person that wouldn't freak out about him being who and what he was. How was she supposed to deal with that? The single word that slipped out was soft, and she wasn't certain if he'd actually heard it. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Mort's own words were fairly soft. He then tossed her the blanket from her bed, which had fallen to the floor. "Might want to catch a little sleep, especially if you want to go out looking for more trouble tomorrow night."
"You just want me to let you get some sleep after that demon and the whole pants thing." Faith smiled, feeling oddly comforted by the simple gesture.
"I told you, he wasn't my type. Those teeth were much too big." Mort then turned out the little lamp, leaving the room swathed in murky darkness.
Faith was still smiling about it as she drifted to sleep. It was odd, having someone care if she was okay, even if it was more from an intense desire to avoid being alone than much else. Although, a tiny corner of her mind whispered that just because they'd only met, that didn't mean that they might not care, might not end up caring very deeply.
She knew that she was dreaming even as she walked down the hallway. It was dark stone, although the floor was covered in tiny stone colored tiles. There was a polished oak door, with a brass plaque reading Mayor Richard Wilkins. As she pushed it open, she noticed that her nails were painted a dark green that perfectly matched the leather pants that she was wearing.
It opened to Dick's office, complete with the little office golf cup, and the painting of the ocean that he'd had on his wall for a while. He was sitting behind his desk, with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk. "Faith, how's my girl? Come on in, sit down. Have some milk, it's good for your bones, you know."
Faith settled into the chair, accepting the milk and picking up a cookie. It was still warm, and larger than her outstretched hand, and the cookie started to bow as she lifted it. It was delicious. "Aren't you… sort of gone?"
"Well, there's gone, and there's gone. I am dead, there's no denying that. But I still worry about you, Faith. Off on your own, with nobody to take care of you. It's just not right." He shook his head, looking remorseful.
"There's Mort. He said that he'd stick around, watch my back for me." She looked over at him, a part of her still wanting him to like what she was doing. To win the approval of the closest thing that she'd had to a father, even if he had used her as his personal hit-man – would that be hit-woman?
"Ah, yes, Mort. I've heard a few things about him. Worked with Magneto, didn't he? Now that's a character." Dick smiled, shaking his head as if amused. "You keep an eye on him. Young men are known for occasionally having immoral thoughts about pretty young women, and that certainly means you. I wouldn't want him to try to take advantage of you."
"I'm not even sure if I'm his type. He might be gay." Faith smiled, wondering how much of this dream was real. Was any of it real, or just some weird series of images produced by her mind?
"Nonsense. There's nothing wrong with a girl like you. He'd have to be a fool not to have noticed that much. Just remember to be careful – it's a very dangerous world out there. Filled with diseases and unhygienic situations and places. Like that motel you're staying in. Hardly a wonderful establishment." He sighed, taking another cookie.
"Do I have another option?" Faith looked at him, a tiny corner of her mind wondering why her glass of milk wasn't running out.
"Well, that depends. I did write you into my will, although I'd never really expected to need one. It was only supposed to be a mere formality, I was supposed to Ascend. If it's not all tied up in a legal dispute, what was mine should be yours now, minus the cut for death penalties and inheritance taxes." He looked saddened for a moment.
"Oh." Faith blinked, wondering if that was real, if this was some fragment of Dick checking in on her. It sounded just like him.
"Ah, that's not the point. It's good to see that you're keeping up with life. A lot of people would have just given up, thrown in the towel after Buffy turned on you like that. And there's something in the works to make her pay for that, I assure you. I'm just glad to see that you're still trying. I never thought you were a quitter, Faith. Keep it up." He smiled, reaching over to pat her hand.
"Thanks." Faith smiled, feeling the world start to dissolve into gray as the sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds. Several shafts of light fell right onto her face, forcing her to wake up.
She could still taste chocolate as she made her way to the shower.
End part 7.
There was a thumping on the door as she stood in front of the mirror. She'd been trying to figure out last night's dream-vision-thing. Had she really been talking to Dick? Where had the chocolate come from if she hadn't? Was he still watching out for her off… wherever failed demon mayors went when they died?
The thumping came again. This time, it was accompanied by a few pleading words from Mort. "Faith… please get out of the bathroom."
"Hang on to your pants, Mort." She smiled, feeling a little calmer just from hearing such a normal thing. Maybe it had been a visit from Dick, but she was still here, in this world.
"Right, I've got them. Could you just… let me have a shower?" Mort's voice had more of that dry sarcasm.
Opening the door, Faith discovered that he'd meant that literally. He was holding his pants and a shirt in one hand, clad only in the boxers that he'd slept in. His hair was a rumpled mess, and he had a couple bruises on his arms and one on his back as he ducked into the bathroom.
Faith just sighed as she ceded the bathroom to Mort, chuckling at the tiny click of the hotel's flimsy bathroom door lock. It really wouldn't keep anyone out, but it might make enough noise to let them know. As if her life wasn't bizarre enough… Well, actually, this was more normal than things had been in a long time.
She pulled on her clothing, carefully avoiding the leather pants. They were planning to go slaying later that night, she didn't want to get them ruined. Part of her mind was still trying to figure out what all of that had meant if it was just the product of her own mind. Was it a sign that she missed having somebody around to give her life direction? A sign that she missed Dick Wilkins and all of the stuff that had accompanied knowing him? Or maybe it just meant the pizza last night hadn't quite agreed with her?
She started to comb out her hair, trying to figure out what to do next. The idea of not staying in this miserable place was a given, but which way to go when they left? North? South? State Route 73? Should she just make a list of every road out of town and pick one at random? With a sigh, she started to make that list. If nothing else, the idea of figuring out the options might make one of them more appealing. Or maybe shed get some sort of Slayer hint – trouble to the west, or big evil over that hill…
"What did the table do that you're glaring like that?" Mort's voice sounded much more calm. Apparently, the time in the bathroom had been exactly what he'd needed.
Blinking, Faith looked at him. He'd pulled on his pants, but not his shirt, and a few drops of water had fallen from his short hair to his chest. His nicely muscled chest. Standing there, still damp from his shower, without a shirt, he looked tempting. And apparently, she'd been so caught up in the question of where to go that she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings. "Trying to figure out where to go when we leave this miserable place."
"Makes sense. Considering those damn Bigots of Humanity, this definitely isn't the place to make home. What sort of options do we have?" Mot nodded, looking as if the memories of last nights encounter still annoyed him, or maybe previous memories of similar prejudiced encounters.
"I've been listing out the roads leaving town. Maybe something will make one sound better or worse. Any tidbits to help?" Faith sighed, rubbing at her temple.
"Well, I came in on that miserable bumpy road going south. Nothing of interest that way. And there's roadwork on the big road going east and west, what was the number? Forty seven, I think. If we eliminate those two from the list, does it help any?" He had a small towel, and was trying to get a little more of the water out of his hair.
"Yeah, that should help some. How are those bruises feeling today? They don't look so noticeable…" Faith smiled just a little, appreciating the view. She might not know if Mort would even be interested, but he did look pretty good.
"One benefit of being a mutant, I heal a little faster than regular humans. They've faded to a greenish that doesn't quite match the rest of me." His smile had a hint of bitterness to it. "So, where do we look for trouble tonight?"
" There's a couple old buildings on the west side, out past the actual town. Creepy looking house, a couple old barns… They just sort of scream danger – don't come closer. Like something that should be in a horror movie." Faith was still trying to figure out if she was actually getting a Slayer feeling about them, or if she'd just seen too many horror flicks.
"So, since they scream keep away, we're going to drop in." Mort shook his head, sitting on the bed. "This whole Slaying thing seems to be filled with things that aren't very safe. And you aren't even supposed to have someone to watch your back?"
"Yeah, well… the Council sucks. Almost as bad as the vamps." She sighed, resting her head on her hand, letting the pen fall to the table top. "This whole thing… There will always be another Slayer, so they really don't care. Maybe the actual Watcher with the Slayer cares about her, Mellie cared, but… The head yahoos could care less. Probably don't even know the name of the current Slayer. Either Slayer."
"Thought there was only supposed to be one?" He was untangling the laces of his boots, half looking at her as he did.
"Well… I'm not the only one to not like the whole Stands alone bit. The other Slayer… Buffy. She was actually called before me. She has some friends. One of them went looking for her, found her after some old ugly vamp dropped her in a pool to drown. He gave her CPR, and bam - one not so drowned Slayer. But that meant that she'd been dead, for a few moments anyhow. Ended up with another Slayer, but she was all traditional, and went down. Then, it was my turn, and here I am." Faith sighed, hating the flare of jealousy that she felt every time she thought about Buffy. It wasn't for the blond Slayer's looks, but for the life she had, a great mom, loyal friends, a Watcher that was still alive… Yeah, it must be pretty good to be Buffy.
"You don't have to be alone anymore. You have me. Told you that already, silly." He had a small smile, and had pulled his boots onto his feet, fingers busy with the laces. Of course, I'm no expert on naming demons, but… I'll go into danger and creepy old barns with you."
"Hey, that's more than I'd expected before I came to this miserable town. We can manage without the books of demons. Got to. And I was thinking maybe… north and eastish when we leave?" Faith grinned, glad that she had Mort with her.
"North and east it is then. After we go find out if there's anything mean and carnivorous in the old barns." He chuckled, as if the whole thing seemed a bit off for him.
End part 8.
"You're a bad influence on me. Convincing me to go looking for demons in old barns…" Mort's words were less than cheerful, but he didn't really sound angry as he followed her towards the first ominous looking ramshackle barn.
"Ah, admit it, Mort. If you hadn't ended up here with me, you'd be bored." Faith's words were teasing, but she was trying to cover up the sudden pang of uncertainty and nervousness. What if Mort left? What if he decided that staying with her was too dangerous?
"Yeah, well… no chance of being bored with you." He sounded a bit less worried. "Besides, if I'm here watching your back, you're here trying to watch mine. Safer than being alone, I think."
Faith was trying not to laugh too loudly as they made their way through the fallow field to the barn. There was a thin path trampled through the weeds, possibly made by deer, but… Faith didn't quite think so. Suddenly, there was a flurry of wings, as a flock of things emerged from the barn. Small, fast moving shapes, flapping and screeching into the twilight. She ducked, unsettled by the flurry of wings and at the same time a bit embarrassed by the reaction. She thought that she saw something flicker downwards, but there were so many bats all around them, she couldn't be certain what it had been.
"Gleeah… bats. Nasty…" Mort's voice sounded repulsed. "What else is in that barn? Bats didn't make this little path…"
"Only one way to find out." Faith tried to sound confident instead of nervous, determined instead of a bit freaked out. Even the fact that she was the Slayer, with the whole destiny to do things like this didn't make creepy old buildings any more comfortable.
They had barely made it to the door when a pair of shapes rushed out at them. The things were definitely not human, and definitely hostile. Lizard-like scales in shades of orange covered the things like armor. The first one was a sort of orange red, with a frill under the jaw that was almost the color of blood. The other was a lighter orange, with a soft yellow orange line of spikes down the spine, almost like an iguana. Neither one had a discernable sex, and they stood about Faith's height, with sharp claws and snapping jaws. The lizardy things split up, the one with the red going after Faith, while the other went towards Mort.
"Careful, a lot of lizards have nasty germs… give you the sort of infection that could cost your arm." Mort's words were clearly a warning, and he paused, leaping upwards, rebounding off the wall in an effort to avoid wicked talons. "Assuming they don't just bite it off."
"Wonderful. Hopefully a basic hack and slash should do it." Faith hardly had the breath for the words, busy trying to find an opening to use her axe on the red frilled demon.
"That would be a lot more convenient." Mort's words were a little sarcastic. "I left my lighter back at the hotel."
Faith was just about to tell him to stop with the bad jokes when the lighter demon caught his arm, claws sinking into his flesh before it hurled him into the side of the barn, the impact causing the wall to break, and Mort vanished into the darkness. With an incoherent shriek, she redoubled her efforts, leaving a number of bloody gashes along the darker creature, the scales not quite enough to prevent her from chopping into flesh.
"That place is a mess!" Mort's voice was a bit angry, although there were undertones of what could have been pain. He was leaping over head, something long and sharp gleaming in his hand. Apparently, there had been sharp things hanging inside the barn, because with his first leap, the left arm of the demon was severed, and it hissed in pain.
Now that they both had sharp instruments of slicing death, it wasn't long before the demons were in pieces on the ground. Faith stood over the bodies, her muscles aching, the small slashes from the claws stinging as she tried to catch her breath. "That was… not just a creepy old barn. That was definitely nasty inhabitants."
"There were bones inside. Mostly animal bones, but there were a few… I think I saw a human skull." Mort's voice was low, as if he didn't want to startle her.
"Nasty. I think it's a good thing we killed them then." Faith sighed, wondering if they should try to clean up the wounds now, or check the other buildings first. "Hey, Mort? Did we bring any bandages with us?"
"Yeah. The antibiotics might be more useful, but we've got both." He shook his head, rubbing at his shoulder. "Just when those damn bruises were going away…"
"Sorry about that. Hot shower on the massage setting… if that hotel has one of those. Ready for the next creepy old building?" Faith smiled, reaching out to touch his arm. He was okay, he hadn't been killed or maimed or run away in a desperate urge to be anywhere but where she was…
"As ready as I get, I suppose." Mort offered a slightly crooked smile. "Should we hope the next one is empty?"
Faith just grinned at him, feeling better. He was still here, still staying. Irritating as this whole insecurity thing was, it would be worse if she'd let him see how much being alone had bothered her. Even worse if he did leave. "It would make things simpler."
End part 9.
"How should I know that one, Faith? Wait, does it have to do with this Mellie person that you mentioned?" Mort was inspecting his shirt, trying to find out if that green demon had slashed it open. There had been other concerns outside.
"Probably." Folding her hands behind her head, Faith closed her eyes, remembering her Watcher – her real Watcher, not that imposter Gwendolyn Post or the inept Wesley, but Mellie. The way that Mellie would carefully ask how things had gone, even occasionally helping on the sweeps through the cemeteries. Mellie who hadn't made her feel like a freak about this destiny thing. "She wanted to help me be the best Slayer that I could. To be familiar with any weapon, in case I had to improvise, or ran into something that thought swords or axes was the way to go. She'd check me over for injuries, and patch me up if I got hurt."
"What about your family?" Mort's question was low, curious.
"I never knew my dad. He was just… some guy that my mom dated a long time ago, someone that bailed on her after he knocked her up. After that, there was a string of bad boyfriends… Thank God I was an only child. Mellie showed up, and my mom was only too happy to send me off with her. That way, she didn't have to worry about me at all, and I wasn't costing her any more money." Faith could almost taste the bitterness in her voice, almost hear the remembered arguments. How her mother had blamed her for ruining her life, saying that if she'd never gotten pregnant, things would be better. The way that her mom would get so caught up in whoever it was that month that she'd forget about cooking, forget to feed her child. How she'd always known that she was unplanned, the bane of her mothers life.
"Faith, it's… well, not okay, but you aren't that girl anymore. You're not your mother's problem, and it sounds like she had plenty of her own anyhow. You don't have to go alone. I might not have any clue what that demon tonight was, or any other particular demon, but I'm not going to abandon you." Mort was looking at her, his face solemn.
Faith opened her mouth, half intending to brush him off, but then she stopped. He hadn't been trying to tell her that all was well, or trying to feed her a line to get a little Faith. He was just… Mort was just feeling as alone in this cruel, harsh world as she was. She was the only chance he had for any sort of company, the only person that wouldn't freak out about him being who and what he was. How was she supposed to deal with that? The single word that slipped out was soft, and she wasn't certain if he'd actually heard it. "Thanks."
"You're welcome." Mort's own words were fairly soft. He then tossed her the blanket from her bed, which had fallen to the floor. "Might want to catch a little sleep, especially if you want to go out looking for more trouble tomorrow night."
"You just want me to let you get some sleep after that demon and the whole pants thing." Faith smiled, feeling oddly comforted by the simple gesture.
"I told you, he wasn't my type. Those teeth were much too big." Mort then turned out the little lamp, leaving the room swathed in murky darkness.
Faith was still smiling about it as she drifted to sleep. It was odd, having someone care if she was okay, even if it was more from an intense desire to avoid being alone than much else. Although, a tiny corner of her mind whispered that just because they'd only met, that didn't mean that they might not care, might not end up caring very deeply.
She knew that she was dreaming even as she walked down the hallway. It was dark stone, although the floor was covered in tiny stone colored tiles. There was a polished oak door, with a brass plaque reading Mayor Richard Wilkins. As she pushed it open, she noticed that her nails were painted a dark green that perfectly matched the leather pants that she was wearing.
It opened to Dick's office, complete with the little office golf cup, and the painting of the ocean that he'd had on his wall for a while. He was sitting behind his desk, with a plate of chocolate chip cookies and two glasses of milk. "Faith, how's my girl? Come on in, sit down. Have some milk, it's good for your bones, you know."
Faith settled into the chair, accepting the milk and picking up a cookie. It was still warm, and larger than her outstretched hand, and the cookie started to bow as she lifted it. It was delicious. "Aren't you… sort of gone?"
"Well, there's gone, and there's gone. I am dead, there's no denying that. But I still worry about you, Faith. Off on your own, with nobody to take care of you. It's just not right." He shook his head, looking remorseful.
"There's Mort. He said that he'd stick around, watch my back for me." She looked over at him, a part of her still wanting him to like what she was doing. To win the approval of the closest thing that she'd had to a father, even if he had used her as his personal hit-man – would that be hit-woman?
"Ah, yes, Mort. I've heard a few things about him. Worked with Magneto, didn't he? Now that's a character." Dick smiled, shaking his head as if amused. "You keep an eye on him. Young men are known for occasionally having immoral thoughts about pretty young women, and that certainly means you. I wouldn't want him to try to take advantage of you."
"I'm not even sure if I'm his type. He might be gay." Faith smiled, wondering how much of this dream was real. Was any of it real, or just some weird series of images produced by her mind?
"Nonsense. There's nothing wrong with a girl like you. He'd have to be a fool not to have noticed that much. Just remember to be careful – it's a very dangerous world out there. Filled with diseases and unhygienic situations and places. Like that motel you're staying in. Hardly a wonderful establishment." He sighed, taking another cookie.
"Do I have another option?" Faith looked at him, a tiny corner of her mind wondering why her glass of milk wasn't running out.
"Well, that depends. I did write you into my will, although I'd never really expected to need one. It was only supposed to be a mere formality, I was supposed to Ascend. If it's not all tied up in a legal dispute, what was mine should be yours now, minus the cut for death penalties and inheritance taxes." He looked saddened for a moment.
"Oh." Faith blinked, wondering if that was real, if this was some fragment of Dick checking in on her. It sounded just like him.
"Ah, that's not the point. It's good to see that you're keeping up with life. A lot of people would have just given up, thrown in the towel after Buffy turned on you like that. And there's something in the works to make her pay for that, I assure you. I'm just glad to see that you're still trying. I never thought you were a quitter, Faith. Keep it up." He smiled, reaching over to pat her hand.
"Thanks." Faith smiled, feeling the world start to dissolve into gray as the sunlight filtered through the gaps in the blinds. Several shafts of light fell right onto her face, forcing her to wake up.
She could still taste chocolate as she made her way to the shower.
End part 7.
There was a thumping on the door as she stood in front of the mirror. She'd been trying to figure out last night's dream-vision-thing. Had she really been talking to Dick? Where had the chocolate come from if she hadn't? Was he still watching out for her off… wherever failed demon mayors went when they died?
The thumping came again. This time, it was accompanied by a few pleading words from Mort. "Faith… please get out of the bathroom."
"Hang on to your pants, Mort." She smiled, feeling a little calmer just from hearing such a normal thing. Maybe it had been a visit from Dick, but she was still here, in this world.
"Right, I've got them. Could you just… let me have a shower?" Mort's voice had more of that dry sarcasm.
Opening the door, Faith discovered that he'd meant that literally. He was holding his pants and a shirt in one hand, clad only in the boxers that he'd slept in. His hair was a rumpled mess, and he had a couple bruises on his arms and one on his back as he ducked into the bathroom.
Faith just sighed as she ceded the bathroom to Mort, chuckling at the tiny click of the hotel's flimsy bathroom door lock. It really wouldn't keep anyone out, but it might make enough noise to let them know. As if her life wasn't bizarre enough… Well, actually, this was more normal than things had been in a long time.
She pulled on her clothing, carefully avoiding the leather pants. They were planning to go slaying later that night, she didn't want to get them ruined. Part of her mind was still trying to figure out what all of that had meant if it was just the product of her own mind. Was it a sign that she missed having somebody around to give her life direction? A sign that she missed Dick Wilkins and all of the stuff that had accompanied knowing him? Or maybe it just meant the pizza last night hadn't quite agreed with her?
She started to comb out her hair, trying to figure out what to do next. The idea of not staying in this miserable place was a given, but which way to go when they left? North? South? State Route 73? Should she just make a list of every road out of town and pick one at random? With a sigh, she started to make that list. If nothing else, the idea of figuring out the options might make one of them more appealing. Or maybe shed get some sort of Slayer hint – trouble to the west, or big evil over that hill…
"What did the table do that you're glaring like that?" Mort's voice sounded much more calm. Apparently, the time in the bathroom had been exactly what he'd needed.
Blinking, Faith looked at him. He'd pulled on his pants, but not his shirt, and a few drops of water had fallen from his short hair to his chest. His nicely muscled chest. Standing there, still damp from his shower, without a shirt, he looked tempting. And apparently, she'd been so caught up in the question of where to go that she hadn't been paying attention to her surroundings. "Trying to figure out where to go when we leave this miserable place."
"Makes sense. Considering those damn Bigots of Humanity, this definitely isn't the place to make home. What sort of options do we have?" Mot nodded, looking as if the memories of last nights encounter still annoyed him, or maybe previous memories of similar prejudiced encounters.
"I've been listing out the roads leaving town. Maybe something will make one sound better or worse. Any tidbits to help?" Faith sighed, rubbing at her temple.
"Well, I came in on that miserable bumpy road going south. Nothing of interest that way. And there's roadwork on the big road going east and west, what was the number? Forty seven, I think. If we eliminate those two from the list, does it help any?" He had a small towel, and was trying to get a little more of the water out of his hair.
"Yeah, that should help some. How are those bruises feeling today? They don't look so noticeable…" Faith smiled just a little, appreciating the view. She might not know if Mort would even be interested, but he did look pretty good.
"One benefit of being a mutant, I heal a little faster than regular humans. They've faded to a greenish that doesn't quite match the rest of me." His smile had a hint of bitterness to it. "So, where do we look for trouble tonight?"
" There's a couple old buildings on the west side, out past the actual town. Creepy looking house, a couple old barns… They just sort of scream danger – don't come closer. Like something that should be in a horror movie." Faith was still trying to figure out if she was actually getting a Slayer feeling about them, or if she'd just seen too many horror flicks.
"So, since they scream keep away, we're going to drop in." Mort shook his head, sitting on the bed. "This whole Slaying thing seems to be filled with things that aren't very safe. And you aren't even supposed to have someone to watch your back?"
"Yeah, well… the Council sucks. Almost as bad as the vamps." She sighed, resting her head on her hand, letting the pen fall to the table top. "This whole thing… There will always be another Slayer, so they really don't care. Maybe the actual Watcher with the Slayer cares about her, Mellie cared, but… The head yahoos could care less. Probably don't even know the name of the current Slayer. Either Slayer."
"Thought there was only supposed to be one?" He was untangling the laces of his boots, half looking at her as he did.
"Well… I'm not the only one to not like the whole Stands alone bit. The other Slayer… Buffy. She was actually called before me. She has some friends. One of them went looking for her, found her after some old ugly vamp dropped her in a pool to drown. He gave her CPR, and bam - one not so drowned Slayer. But that meant that she'd been dead, for a few moments anyhow. Ended up with another Slayer, but she was all traditional, and went down. Then, it was my turn, and here I am." Faith sighed, hating the flare of jealousy that she felt every time she thought about Buffy. It wasn't for the blond Slayer's looks, but for the life she had, a great mom, loyal friends, a Watcher that was still alive… Yeah, it must be pretty good to be Buffy.
"You don't have to be alone anymore. You have me. Told you that already, silly." He had a small smile, and had pulled his boots onto his feet, fingers busy with the laces. Of course, I'm no expert on naming demons, but… I'll go into danger and creepy old barns with you."
"Hey, that's more than I'd expected before I came to this miserable town. We can manage without the books of demons. Got to. And I was thinking maybe… north and eastish when we leave?" Faith grinned, glad that she had Mort with her.
"North and east it is then. After we go find out if there's anything mean and carnivorous in the old barns." He chuckled, as if the whole thing seemed a bit off for him.
End part 8.
"You're a bad influence on me. Convincing me to go looking for demons in old barns…" Mort's words were less than cheerful, but he didn't really sound angry as he followed her towards the first ominous looking ramshackle barn.
"Ah, admit it, Mort. If you hadn't ended up here with me, you'd be bored." Faith's words were teasing, but she was trying to cover up the sudden pang of uncertainty and nervousness. What if Mort left? What if he decided that staying with her was too dangerous?
"Yeah, well… no chance of being bored with you." He sounded a bit less worried. "Besides, if I'm here watching your back, you're here trying to watch mine. Safer than being alone, I think."
Faith was trying not to laugh too loudly as they made their way through the fallow field to the barn. There was a thin path trampled through the weeds, possibly made by deer, but… Faith didn't quite think so. Suddenly, there was a flurry of wings, as a flock of things emerged from the barn. Small, fast moving shapes, flapping and screeching into the twilight. She ducked, unsettled by the flurry of wings and at the same time a bit embarrassed by the reaction. She thought that she saw something flicker downwards, but there were so many bats all around them, she couldn't be certain what it had been.
"Gleeah… bats. Nasty…" Mort's voice sounded repulsed. "What else is in that barn? Bats didn't make this little path…"
"Only one way to find out." Faith tried to sound confident instead of nervous, determined instead of a bit freaked out. Even the fact that she was the Slayer, with the whole destiny to do things like this didn't make creepy old buildings any more comfortable.
They had barely made it to the door when a pair of shapes rushed out at them. The things were definitely not human, and definitely hostile. Lizard-like scales in shades of orange covered the things like armor. The first one was a sort of orange red, with a frill under the jaw that was almost the color of blood. The other was a lighter orange, with a soft yellow orange line of spikes down the spine, almost like an iguana. Neither one had a discernable sex, and they stood about Faith's height, with sharp claws and snapping jaws. The lizardy things split up, the one with the red going after Faith, while the other went towards Mort.
"Careful, a lot of lizards have nasty germs… give you the sort of infection that could cost your arm." Mort's words were clearly a warning, and he paused, leaping upwards, rebounding off the wall in an effort to avoid wicked talons. "Assuming they don't just bite it off."
"Wonderful. Hopefully a basic hack and slash should do it." Faith hardly had the breath for the words, busy trying to find an opening to use her axe on the red frilled demon.
"That would be a lot more convenient." Mort's words were a little sarcastic. "I left my lighter back at the hotel."
Faith was just about to tell him to stop with the bad jokes when the lighter demon caught his arm, claws sinking into his flesh before it hurled him into the side of the barn, the impact causing the wall to break, and Mort vanished into the darkness. With an incoherent shriek, she redoubled her efforts, leaving a number of bloody gashes along the darker creature, the scales not quite enough to prevent her from chopping into flesh.
"That place is a mess!" Mort's voice was a bit angry, although there were undertones of what could have been pain. He was leaping over head, something long and sharp gleaming in his hand. Apparently, there had been sharp things hanging inside the barn, because with his first leap, the left arm of the demon was severed, and it hissed in pain.
Now that they both had sharp instruments of slicing death, it wasn't long before the demons were in pieces on the ground. Faith stood over the bodies, her muscles aching, the small slashes from the claws stinging as she tried to catch her breath. "That was… not just a creepy old barn. That was definitely nasty inhabitants."
"There were bones inside. Mostly animal bones, but there were a few… I think I saw a human skull." Mort's voice was low, as if he didn't want to startle her.
"Nasty. I think it's a good thing we killed them then." Faith sighed, wondering if they should try to clean up the wounds now, or check the other buildings first. "Hey, Mort? Did we bring any bandages with us?"
"Yeah. The antibiotics might be more useful, but we've got both." He shook his head, rubbing at his shoulder. "Just when those damn bruises were going away…"
"Sorry about that. Hot shower on the massage setting… if that hotel has one of those. Ready for the next creepy old building?" Faith smiled, reaching out to touch his arm. He was okay, he hadn't been killed or maimed or run away in a desperate urge to be anywhere but where she was…
"As ready as I get, I suppose." Mort offered a slightly crooked smile. "Should we hope the next one is empty?"
Faith just grinned at him, feeling better. He was still here, still staying. Irritating as this whole insecurity thing was, it would be worse if she'd let him see how much being alone had bothered her. Even worse if he did leave. "It would make things simpler."
End part 9.