Faith was all hopeful and almost giddy that night. The idea of starting a relationship with Mort…. It felt good. Not the sort of good like going into a fight that she knew that she would win, but good in a way that was hard to describe. Nervous, hopeful, anticipation, and these warm shivery butterflies all combined with the memory of that kiss. She was looking forward to things unfolding, or blossoming. It was the first time that she could think of any relationship with a guy that she might be tempted to just smile into space and think about sappy poetry.
Mort was different from the other guys that she'd been involved with, and not just because he was a mutant. She wasn't entirely certain why, although a part of her wondered if maybe Xander back in Sunnydale might have been a decent guy if… but things hadn't gone that way. No use dwelling on what could have been. Xander could as easily been a jerk as a decent guy, and she had no way to know. Xander didn't matter now, Mort did. Mort was… Mort was a nice guy, with a sense of humor, and he wasn't afraid of the fact that's he was the Slayer. Maybe he didn't realize everything that went along with that, but he didn't seem to be upset about it. Maybe he figured she could tell him more or not at her choice, or maybe there was more to his mutation than the green and the jumping, but… she didn't think there was any reason to worry.
Mort was there still, with this little smile on his face, and a sort of dreamy look, as if he was still lost in hazy happy what could be's, or else the kiss had affected him just as much as it had her.
"I don't want to rush into things. For once, I want to try to do things right, to have a chance that this can last." The words were half whisper, half plea, and part prayer.
Looking at her, Mort put one hand on her arm, a bit below the shoulder. "I don't want… I'm not going to try to rush you. You could probably flatten me if I did." He smiled, teasing her just a little. "But this… I want this. I want us."
"Yeah… I want us too." Faith smiled, relaxing a bit. She hadn't thought he was the type to push for things, but it was good to be proven right. "Doesn't mean we can't be a bit more snuggly though."
"Snuggly… sounds good." There was something in his eyes, relief? Had Mort had girlfriends before? Wouldn't the women he'd met have to have been pretty silly for all of them to pass him up?
Faith tugged at him, leading him out of the library to the room, hoping to get a bit of snuggle time. There were a lot of silly people in the world. Maybe he hadn't… which she could deal with. She could show him how a few things were done. "It's been a long day, we should get some rest. I'm hoping we can go have a nice, normal evening out tomorrow."
"A nice evening out… I don't think I've ever had one of those." He shook his head a bit, looking as if he was exaggerating his puzzlement just a little. "Think we can manage? You don't seem to be terribly practiced at normal either, Faith."
"Well… maybe not, but we can try, right? Can't we go out, and just… sort of pretend that everything's normal for a while, no big destiny that comes with an impending doom, nobody hating the idea that you look a bit different, just… time to be together and relax?" Faith smiled hopefully, sitting on the bed.
"We can try, but it doesn't change the world." Mort shrugged, sitting beside her and taking his own boots off. "Wait a minute, what's this about impending doom?"
Faith sighed, letting herself lean over, resting her head on Mort's shoulder. "Well, you know I'm the Slayer. But there's a lot about that I didn't go into. There's only supposed to be one, although it turns out that there's two right now. One Slayer is Chosen when the previous one dies. One girl in all the world to fight the vampires, the demons, the forces of darkness. Generally, they fight alone. And die alone. Most Slayers don't make it past eighteen, Mellie couldn't find any records of a Slayer living past twenty five., and that one… that was a long time ago."
"Well then, that settles it. You're not going to fight the forces of darkness alone. I'll help you. Maybe we can find others willing to help you. If they all go alone, and die, it sounds like something's not working right." Mort wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. "If something doesn't work right, or there's a better way, change things. That's the idea behind progress. Evolution too, I suppose."
"Progress… I guess so. I hadn't thought about it like that." Faith smiled, feeling comfortable against Mort. He'd said before that he wouldn't leave her alone, but it just felt so good to hear it again. To know that someone would be there for her, be there to watch her back.
End part 17.
If Faith had dreams, she didn't remember them. She woke slowly, feeling comfortable, her cheek resting against Mort's chest and her arms around him. He'd held her, and they'd kissed a few more times, but nothing more. Oddly enough, that had seemed like enough, like there wasn't a burning need for more to feel connected. It was the first time that she'd ever woke up wrapped around a guy and felt like smiling because they were both in the bed together. Granted, they'd slept in the same bed since they'd got here, but it wasn't quite the same. Then, he'd just been a friend, not a boyfriend, not really. Now? Things were different, better.
"Mmmm. Is it morning already?" Mort's voice was a bit thick, as if everything wasn't quite awake yet. One hand reached out, groping for the blanket, and when his questing fingers found it, he pulled them up with a slight jerk, covering their heads. "Don't want to get up."
Faith smiled, resisting the urge to laugh. Her fingers moved over his ribs, light touches that could have been teasing or ticklish. "We do have to leave the bed eventually. There's this little matter where we're supposed to work for all that great food that Tanya's been giving us."
"True. But I don't have to like it." Mort sighed.
Faith moved, stretching and yawning. Honestly, she would much rather stay snuggled up with Mort than do work herself, but there were responsibilities. That and the fact that the bed, nice and comfortable as it was, was not the bathroom. "Life's full of things that you don't have to like, but they are."
With a small noise, Mort slid out of the bed, yawning as his feet hit the floor. "Doesn't mean I can't try to change some of it."
"Good point." Faith nodded, thinking of a couple things that could use changing.
They spent several hours working on the roof, and by the end of that time, they'd finished ripping away the old shingles, and had placed protective tarps over a few places where the roof needed some more serious repairs than simply the shingles. That would be a job for another time. The rest of the workday was spent carrying stacks of shingles and boxes of nails up to the roof, placing them near where they would be needed. No reason not to get as much preparation done as possible, after all.
"What type of movie do you want to see, anyhow?" Mort asked, shifting a box of nails so they wouldn't slide off the roof.
"It doesn't even really matter that much. Nothing in the horror category, this is supposed to be time away from normal life. Probably not something about a woman and her relationships, I just never really got into most chick-flicks." Faith was trying to think about that, wondering exactly what they would end up watching.
"I can deal with that." Mort sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "I've never been a fan of chick-flicks either."
"Probably because you're a guy… or at least, that's your easy, built in excuse." Faith smiled. "Maybe there's a good action movie?"
"That sounds pretty good. I'll even let you go shower first, as long as you don't use all of the hot water." He grinned, smiling at her. "I can get directions to a theater from Tanya."
"Deal." Faith's smile was almost too big. The whole thing sounded good – a shower, a trip somewhere with Mort, and a nice movie. She found herself wondering if they'd take the motorcycle.
She managed not to take too long in the shower, and changed swiftly into something a bit more presentable for their date. The leather pants, because leather pants were always good. And Mort liked the way they looked on her. One of her nicer looking tops, and a jacket with a concealed knife and stake, because you never knew what would happen. She wanted the night off, but that didn't mean that she would get it that way.
Faith then made her way downstairs, knowing that Mort would want the chance to shower as well. It might be nice to just sort of sit and enjoy the nice weather for a while, and they wouldn't be leaving before he was done anyhow. She didn't have a lot of chances to just relax and smell the flowers… what sort of flowers were they anyhow? Definitely not roses.
It didn't feel like very long before Mort was there, grinning at her. "Ready to go to catch a movie? We'll have to take the motorcycle…"
Faith smiled, hopping to her feet. "That's not a problem, I like the motorcycle."
They made their way into the theater, having decided on the action movie instead of the comedy. Holding cups of soda and a bag of popcorn, they prepared to enjoy a night off, just relaxing to two hours and fifteen minutes of fights, car chases, and explosions. It didn't matter that this was the sequel to a move that neither of them had seen, it didn't matter that it might well start in the middle of the story. They weren't really there for the plot of the movie anyhow.
They ended up laughing at the dialog and picking apart some of the fight sequences, enjoying themselves immensely. The popcorn vanished at an amazing rate, and they held hands, ignoring the salt gritty grease of the buttery flavored topping. They were together, and having fun. And in the darkness of the theater, not only could nobody notice the greenish cast to Mort's skin, they couldn't stare at the pair of them kissing.
They were still in a good mood as they made their way out of the theater, laughing about the final fight, delighted by the explosions and that fact that they'd been entirely safe the whole time. Such a welcome change from their usual violence.
Climbing on the motorcycle, they started through town, figuring they'd just go back to Tanya's place, which was starting to feel a lot like home, and relax. Maybe they could stretch on the roof and watch the stars.
Unfortunately, that idea was shot down when they headed south on a little street. There was a cemetery, and from it, Faith got a familiar sensation. There were vampires nearby. "Mort! The cemetery… it's not as dead as it's supposed to be. Pull over."
"So much for having the evening off." Mort sighed, pulling the bike off to the side of the road.
Faith frowned as she saw the dark sedan that was also pulled off in front of the cemetery. Who visited cemeteries at night? It was a short list, and didn't have anything particularly cheerful on it. "I don't like this."
"Neither do I." Mort's voice was low.
End part 18.
Faith could feel herself slipping from a more normal walk to a predatory stalk, half crouched as she followed the stomach tightening sensation of vampires. Judging from the feel of the air, there wasn't anything too powerful, but she could feel several minions nearby. Minions didn't just sprout from the ground like mushrooms, there had to be a master somewhere.
Faith and Mort took them down almost before the minions had time to notice hey weren't alone anymore. Faith had staked one immediately, and Mort had impaled the second with a slightly pointed cross carrying a bedraggled wreath of wilted flowers, and both the minion and the wreath disintegrated, falling to the ground with a faintly hissing patter. The third minion had time to swing a single punch, easily blocked before he was also dust.
"They looked like they were heading somewhere." Mort's whisper barely carried, but that was enough.
Faith nodded, wiping the dust from her stake as she looked around. There had to be something here to attract their attention. A pale glow to the right caught her eyes, and with a small gesture, she began moving that way, slowly, carefully. There was a bit of a feeling, like a presence, but she couldn't quite identify it. As she got closer, Faith could hear voices.
"I don't understand. What makes this one different from any other possible new vampire? Why are you so…" This speaker had the local accent, and sounded maybe fifteen years old. "You seem uneasy about this one."
"Lorrie, you don't need to understand all of this, that's why I'm here. A Slayer, which you may one day become, Slays, and it is up to the Watcher to understand, and to help you with the identifications." This voice belonged to an older man, with fading remnants of a British accent and the sort of oozing arrogance that made Faith grit her teeth and remind herself that Slayers were NOT supposed to kill humans.
"But this is different. I can't… I don't know how to describe it, but there's a different feel to this grave." Lorrie sounded like she was trying to explain her unease, and failing.
"True, this one is different. I was just hoping…" There was a pause, and the light shifted a bit. "I wasn't certain, not at first, but you do seem to be confirming my fears. This one, this potential vampire… He was a suspected mutant."
"Which would make him…. I didn't know that mutants could be turned." Lorrie sounded nervous. "What did he do?"
"I don't know. There wasn't any information. It is imperative that you stop him before he can become an even greater menace. Bad enough that he was a mutant, but a mutant vampire would be an abomination, an unparalleled danger." There was thick distaste and fear in the man's voice.
"Sounds like a card carrying bigot." Faith could barely manage to keep from spitting towards the Watcher. She winced as she remembered that she was fairly certain that she was even supposed to protect people like that. Maybe she could be a bit slow, wasn't she still reforming? There was a man sitting on a headstone as a girl who couldn't have been more than fifteen stood nervously beside the heaped pile of earth that meant a new grave, the strips of grass having either fallen or been kicked aside.
"Is that an official policy or just him?" Mort sounded just as unhappy as Faith felt.
"Tanya's uncle didn't feel that way. Mellie didn't feel that way. The two Watchers I met in Sunnydale…Neither of them actually said anything about mutants that I know of. I think it's just this asshole." Faith was still frowning, almost hoping that the soon to rise vampire would eat the Watcher. Unfortunately, he had the girl standing over the grave while he sat several headstones away. She couldn't tell much about the girl, her skin looked darker than Faith, but not too dark, and she seemed to have short dark hair. She was in a pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt, a stake clutched in one hand, but held like she knew how to use it.
"Think he's going to get eaten?" Mort's question sounded almost hopeful.
For a moment, Faith let the image play across her mind, finding it… not quite as satisfying as she'd expected. "We got rid of the minions. And he'd got the girl between him and the grave, so it's probably unlikely."
There was a shifting of the clumped earth, and a hand emerged, with wicked talon-like claws instead of the normal dirt encrusted nails of a new risen fledgling. When the figure had finally hauled himself out of the earth, he was tall, with broad shoulders and short yellow hair sticking almost wildly up. He was undeniably a vampire, and snarled at the girl with sharp fangs.
"Why am I thinking of Sabertooth?" Mort's dry whisper held humor and unease all at once.
Faith found herself wondering about that herself. Mort had mentioned Sabertooth before, saying that the mutant had been another follower of Magneto, and something about him being big and carnivorous. But she wasn't certain how that connected to a vampire.
Snarling, the vampire lunged towards the girl, most likely hungry and angry. She moved, evading his claws and spearing the stake into his chest. She was trembling as the vampire dissolved. "He's… dead now."
"Good. You have just prevented a terrible abomination from menacing the world." The man stood up, rubbing his hands together as if he'd actually done something. "Now, let's go back to the car and go home."
"It didn't feel that different… but he was… he was a big guy. Like linebacker big." The girl shook her head, trailing behind him. "Shouldn't it have felt different if he was that dangerous?"
"Mutants are dangerous. Don't you ever forget that! Maybe we need to watch the Magneto Trials again…" The man's voice faded as he walked away, imperially certain the girl would follow him.
Faith shook her head, unable to find words that were suitably insulting for that man. "Uggghh. I'm just glad that Mellie wasn't anything like that. Dick wasn't even like that, and he was evil."
"Don't kill him, Faith. Prison's not worth it, someone else will take care of him. With an attitude like that, he's sure to have enemies." Mort put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her around for a hug.
"Don't leave me, Mort. Just… don't leave me." Faith held him tightly, tears leaking from her eyes as she pressed her face against him. She wasn't even certain who the tears were for – the now dead vampire mutant, the poor girl stuck with that ass for a Watcher, for herself, for Mellie, for the world… She didn't know. Right now, it didn't matter.
End part 19.
Mort was different from the other guys that she'd been involved with, and not just because he was a mutant. She wasn't entirely certain why, although a part of her wondered if maybe Xander back in Sunnydale might have been a decent guy if… but things hadn't gone that way. No use dwelling on what could have been. Xander could as easily been a jerk as a decent guy, and she had no way to know. Xander didn't matter now, Mort did. Mort was… Mort was a nice guy, with a sense of humor, and he wasn't afraid of the fact that's he was the Slayer. Maybe he didn't realize everything that went along with that, but he didn't seem to be upset about it. Maybe he figured she could tell him more or not at her choice, or maybe there was more to his mutation than the green and the jumping, but… she didn't think there was any reason to worry.
Mort was there still, with this little smile on his face, and a sort of dreamy look, as if he was still lost in hazy happy what could be's, or else the kiss had affected him just as much as it had her.
"I don't want to rush into things. For once, I want to try to do things right, to have a chance that this can last." The words were half whisper, half plea, and part prayer.
Looking at her, Mort put one hand on her arm, a bit below the shoulder. "I don't want… I'm not going to try to rush you. You could probably flatten me if I did." He smiled, teasing her just a little. "But this… I want this. I want us."
"Yeah… I want us too." Faith smiled, relaxing a bit. She hadn't thought he was the type to push for things, but it was good to be proven right. "Doesn't mean we can't be a bit more snuggly though."
"Snuggly… sounds good." There was something in his eyes, relief? Had Mort had girlfriends before? Wouldn't the women he'd met have to have been pretty silly for all of them to pass him up?
Faith tugged at him, leading him out of the library to the room, hoping to get a bit of snuggle time. There were a lot of silly people in the world. Maybe he hadn't… which she could deal with. She could show him how a few things were done. "It's been a long day, we should get some rest. I'm hoping we can go have a nice, normal evening out tomorrow."
"A nice evening out… I don't think I've ever had one of those." He shook his head a bit, looking as if he was exaggerating his puzzlement just a little. "Think we can manage? You don't seem to be terribly practiced at normal either, Faith."
"Well… maybe not, but we can try, right? Can't we go out, and just… sort of pretend that everything's normal for a while, no big destiny that comes with an impending doom, nobody hating the idea that you look a bit different, just… time to be together and relax?" Faith smiled hopefully, sitting on the bed.
"We can try, but it doesn't change the world." Mort shrugged, sitting beside her and taking his own boots off. "Wait a minute, what's this about impending doom?"
Faith sighed, letting herself lean over, resting her head on Mort's shoulder. "Well, you know I'm the Slayer. But there's a lot about that I didn't go into. There's only supposed to be one, although it turns out that there's two right now. One Slayer is Chosen when the previous one dies. One girl in all the world to fight the vampires, the demons, the forces of darkness. Generally, they fight alone. And die alone. Most Slayers don't make it past eighteen, Mellie couldn't find any records of a Slayer living past twenty five., and that one… that was a long time ago."
"Well then, that settles it. You're not going to fight the forces of darkness alone. I'll help you. Maybe we can find others willing to help you. If they all go alone, and die, it sounds like something's not working right." Mort wrapped his arm around her shoulders, squeezing gently. "If something doesn't work right, or there's a better way, change things. That's the idea behind progress. Evolution too, I suppose."
"Progress… I guess so. I hadn't thought about it like that." Faith smiled, feeling comfortable against Mort. He'd said before that he wouldn't leave her alone, but it just felt so good to hear it again. To know that someone would be there for her, be there to watch her back.
End part 17.
If Faith had dreams, she didn't remember them. She woke slowly, feeling comfortable, her cheek resting against Mort's chest and her arms around him. He'd held her, and they'd kissed a few more times, but nothing more. Oddly enough, that had seemed like enough, like there wasn't a burning need for more to feel connected. It was the first time that she'd ever woke up wrapped around a guy and felt like smiling because they were both in the bed together. Granted, they'd slept in the same bed since they'd got here, but it wasn't quite the same. Then, he'd just been a friend, not a boyfriend, not really. Now? Things were different, better.
"Mmmm. Is it morning already?" Mort's voice was a bit thick, as if everything wasn't quite awake yet. One hand reached out, groping for the blanket, and when his questing fingers found it, he pulled them up with a slight jerk, covering their heads. "Don't want to get up."
Faith smiled, resisting the urge to laugh. Her fingers moved over his ribs, light touches that could have been teasing or ticklish. "We do have to leave the bed eventually. There's this little matter where we're supposed to work for all that great food that Tanya's been giving us."
"True. But I don't have to like it." Mort sighed.
Faith moved, stretching and yawning. Honestly, she would much rather stay snuggled up with Mort than do work herself, but there were responsibilities. That and the fact that the bed, nice and comfortable as it was, was not the bathroom. "Life's full of things that you don't have to like, but they are."
With a small noise, Mort slid out of the bed, yawning as his feet hit the floor. "Doesn't mean I can't try to change some of it."
"Good point." Faith nodded, thinking of a couple things that could use changing.
They spent several hours working on the roof, and by the end of that time, they'd finished ripping away the old shingles, and had placed protective tarps over a few places where the roof needed some more serious repairs than simply the shingles. That would be a job for another time. The rest of the workday was spent carrying stacks of shingles and boxes of nails up to the roof, placing them near where they would be needed. No reason not to get as much preparation done as possible, after all.
"What type of movie do you want to see, anyhow?" Mort asked, shifting a box of nails so they wouldn't slide off the roof.
"It doesn't even really matter that much. Nothing in the horror category, this is supposed to be time away from normal life. Probably not something about a woman and her relationships, I just never really got into most chick-flicks." Faith was trying to think about that, wondering exactly what they would end up watching.
"I can deal with that." Mort sounded like he was trying not to laugh. "I've never been a fan of chick-flicks either."
"Probably because you're a guy… or at least, that's your easy, built in excuse." Faith smiled. "Maybe there's a good action movie?"
"That sounds pretty good. I'll even let you go shower first, as long as you don't use all of the hot water." He grinned, smiling at her. "I can get directions to a theater from Tanya."
"Deal." Faith's smile was almost too big. The whole thing sounded good – a shower, a trip somewhere with Mort, and a nice movie. She found herself wondering if they'd take the motorcycle.
She managed not to take too long in the shower, and changed swiftly into something a bit more presentable for their date. The leather pants, because leather pants were always good. And Mort liked the way they looked on her. One of her nicer looking tops, and a jacket with a concealed knife and stake, because you never knew what would happen. She wanted the night off, but that didn't mean that she would get it that way.
Faith then made her way downstairs, knowing that Mort would want the chance to shower as well. It might be nice to just sort of sit and enjoy the nice weather for a while, and they wouldn't be leaving before he was done anyhow. She didn't have a lot of chances to just relax and smell the flowers… what sort of flowers were they anyhow? Definitely not roses.
It didn't feel like very long before Mort was there, grinning at her. "Ready to go to catch a movie? We'll have to take the motorcycle…"
Faith smiled, hopping to her feet. "That's not a problem, I like the motorcycle."
They made their way into the theater, having decided on the action movie instead of the comedy. Holding cups of soda and a bag of popcorn, they prepared to enjoy a night off, just relaxing to two hours and fifteen minutes of fights, car chases, and explosions. It didn't matter that this was the sequel to a move that neither of them had seen, it didn't matter that it might well start in the middle of the story. They weren't really there for the plot of the movie anyhow.
They ended up laughing at the dialog and picking apart some of the fight sequences, enjoying themselves immensely. The popcorn vanished at an amazing rate, and they held hands, ignoring the salt gritty grease of the buttery flavored topping. They were together, and having fun. And in the darkness of the theater, not only could nobody notice the greenish cast to Mort's skin, they couldn't stare at the pair of them kissing.
They were still in a good mood as they made their way out of the theater, laughing about the final fight, delighted by the explosions and that fact that they'd been entirely safe the whole time. Such a welcome change from their usual violence.
Climbing on the motorcycle, they started through town, figuring they'd just go back to Tanya's place, which was starting to feel a lot like home, and relax. Maybe they could stretch on the roof and watch the stars.
Unfortunately, that idea was shot down when they headed south on a little street. There was a cemetery, and from it, Faith got a familiar sensation. There were vampires nearby. "Mort! The cemetery… it's not as dead as it's supposed to be. Pull over."
"So much for having the evening off." Mort sighed, pulling the bike off to the side of the road.
Faith frowned as she saw the dark sedan that was also pulled off in front of the cemetery. Who visited cemeteries at night? It was a short list, and didn't have anything particularly cheerful on it. "I don't like this."
"Neither do I." Mort's voice was low.
End part 18.
Faith could feel herself slipping from a more normal walk to a predatory stalk, half crouched as she followed the stomach tightening sensation of vampires. Judging from the feel of the air, there wasn't anything too powerful, but she could feel several minions nearby. Minions didn't just sprout from the ground like mushrooms, there had to be a master somewhere.
Faith and Mort took them down almost before the minions had time to notice hey weren't alone anymore. Faith had staked one immediately, and Mort had impaled the second with a slightly pointed cross carrying a bedraggled wreath of wilted flowers, and both the minion and the wreath disintegrated, falling to the ground with a faintly hissing patter. The third minion had time to swing a single punch, easily blocked before he was also dust.
"They looked like they were heading somewhere." Mort's whisper barely carried, but that was enough.
Faith nodded, wiping the dust from her stake as she looked around. There had to be something here to attract their attention. A pale glow to the right caught her eyes, and with a small gesture, she began moving that way, slowly, carefully. There was a bit of a feeling, like a presence, but she couldn't quite identify it. As she got closer, Faith could hear voices.
"I don't understand. What makes this one different from any other possible new vampire? Why are you so…" This speaker had the local accent, and sounded maybe fifteen years old. "You seem uneasy about this one."
"Lorrie, you don't need to understand all of this, that's why I'm here. A Slayer, which you may one day become, Slays, and it is up to the Watcher to understand, and to help you with the identifications." This voice belonged to an older man, with fading remnants of a British accent and the sort of oozing arrogance that made Faith grit her teeth and remind herself that Slayers were NOT supposed to kill humans.
"But this is different. I can't… I don't know how to describe it, but there's a different feel to this grave." Lorrie sounded like she was trying to explain her unease, and failing.
"True, this one is different. I was just hoping…" There was a pause, and the light shifted a bit. "I wasn't certain, not at first, but you do seem to be confirming my fears. This one, this potential vampire… He was a suspected mutant."
"Which would make him…. I didn't know that mutants could be turned." Lorrie sounded nervous. "What did he do?"
"I don't know. There wasn't any information. It is imperative that you stop him before he can become an even greater menace. Bad enough that he was a mutant, but a mutant vampire would be an abomination, an unparalleled danger." There was thick distaste and fear in the man's voice.
"Sounds like a card carrying bigot." Faith could barely manage to keep from spitting towards the Watcher. She winced as she remembered that she was fairly certain that she was even supposed to protect people like that. Maybe she could be a bit slow, wasn't she still reforming? There was a man sitting on a headstone as a girl who couldn't have been more than fifteen stood nervously beside the heaped pile of earth that meant a new grave, the strips of grass having either fallen or been kicked aside.
"Is that an official policy or just him?" Mort sounded just as unhappy as Faith felt.
"Tanya's uncle didn't feel that way. Mellie didn't feel that way. The two Watchers I met in Sunnydale…Neither of them actually said anything about mutants that I know of. I think it's just this asshole." Faith was still frowning, almost hoping that the soon to rise vampire would eat the Watcher. Unfortunately, he had the girl standing over the grave while he sat several headstones away. She couldn't tell much about the girl, her skin looked darker than Faith, but not too dark, and she seemed to have short dark hair. She was in a pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt, a stake clutched in one hand, but held like she knew how to use it.
"Think he's going to get eaten?" Mort's question sounded almost hopeful.
For a moment, Faith let the image play across her mind, finding it… not quite as satisfying as she'd expected. "We got rid of the minions. And he'd got the girl between him and the grave, so it's probably unlikely."
There was a shifting of the clumped earth, and a hand emerged, with wicked talon-like claws instead of the normal dirt encrusted nails of a new risen fledgling. When the figure had finally hauled himself out of the earth, he was tall, with broad shoulders and short yellow hair sticking almost wildly up. He was undeniably a vampire, and snarled at the girl with sharp fangs.
"Why am I thinking of Sabertooth?" Mort's dry whisper held humor and unease all at once.
Faith found herself wondering about that herself. Mort had mentioned Sabertooth before, saying that the mutant had been another follower of Magneto, and something about him being big and carnivorous. But she wasn't certain how that connected to a vampire.
Snarling, the vampire lunged towards the girl, most likely hungry and angry. She moved, evading his claws and spearing the stake into his chest. She was trembling as the vampire dissolved. "He's… dead now."
"Good. You have just prevented a terrible abomination from menacing the world." The man stood up, rubbing his hands together as if he'd actually done something. "Now, let's go back to the car and go home."
"It didn't feel that different… but he was… he was a big guy. Like linebacker big." The girl shook her head, trailing behind him. "Shouldn't it have felt different if he was that dangerous?"
"Mutants are dangerous. Don't you ever forget that! Maybe we need to watch the Magneto Trials again…" The man's voice faded as he walked away, imperially certain the girl would follow him.
Faith shook her head, unable to find words that were suitably insulting for that man. "Uggghh. I'm just glad that Mellie wasn't anything like that. Dick wasn't even like that, and he was evil."
"Don't kill him, Faith. Prison's not worth it, someone else will take care of him. With an attitude like that, he's sure to have enemies." Mort put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her around for a hug.
"Don't leave me, Mort. Just… don't leave me." Faith held him tightly, tears leaking from her eyes as she pressed her face against him. She wasn't even certain who the tears were for – the now dead vampire mutant, the poor girl stuck with that ass for a Watcher, for herself, for Mellie, for the world… She didn't know. Right now, it didn't matter.
End part 19.