Chapter 53: Dirty Girls

July 15, 2003

Sirius sat with Faith in their bedroom as he listened to her tell him what Spike had done.

"I don't understand," Sirius said. "Before he got his soul. He had that muggle device in his brain that wouldn't let him harm a human. How?"

"I don't know," Faith said. "I tried to end it back in January. That was when he raped me. Not long after that he left. I found him in late April in the school basement, crazy. That was when he revealed he had gone to get his soul."

"Why do you trust him?" Sirius asked.

"Because I know what it feels like to take a life and regret it," Faith answered. "I have fought for my redemption ever since. Spike deserved the same."

Sirius looked into Faith's eyes and nodded, he pulled her close and kissed her passionately. He felt her return the kiss just as passionate.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Willow walked into hers and Buffy's bedroom. She smiled as she looked at her wife who was getting dressed. "Got a call from the hospital," she said waving her cell phone. Since the Fidelius Charm was cast the house phone had not worked, nor had the electricity. Willow and Sirius had to bewitch everything in the house so they had electricity and working plumbing. "They said they have a girl there and that yours and Faith's names and our cell phone numbers were the only information they found on her."

"Go and see what you can find out," Buffy said. "And take Dawn so you have a way back just in case."

"Will do, baby," Willow said as she kissed Buffy before heading out of the room. "Dawn!"

A couple hours later Willow and Dawn found that the girl had finally woken up. Her name was Shannon, and she was a Potential, as they had suspected. She was barely alive, hooked up and still bloody through her bandages. She told Dawn and Willow her story.

"He was a minister or something," Shannon told them. "At least, he dressed like one. I thought he was trying to 'save' me. At first."

"He picked you up on the side of the road?" Dawn asked.

Shannon nodded and croaked, "The Bringers were chasing me." She thought a moment, then added, "He said they were 'his boys.' Right before he burned me." As she pulled back the bandage on her neck, she revealed the burn mark the guy—Caleb—had left there.

"He wanted me to tell the Slayers something before . . . before he cut me," she said in a tiny voice. "He told me to give the Slayers a message."

"Which Slayer?" Dawn asked. "There are three of us."

"I don't know."

"What was the message?" Willow asked.

"He said, 'I have something of yours.'"

Dawn and Willow returned home and filled everyone in.

"We've got a new player in town," Buffy announced. "Dresses like a preacher. Calls himself Caleb. Looks like he's working for The First. He's taunting us. Calling us out. Says he has something of mine, Faith or Dawn's. Could be another girl. Could be something else. Don't know. I don't care. I'm tired of talking. I'm tired of training. He's got something of mine? Fine. I'm getting her back." She looked toward Sirius. "Sirius, contact Albus. Inform him we need members of the Order to back up myself, Faith, Dawn and yourself."

"Right away," Sirius said.

Moments later Buffy, Sirius, Dumbledore, McGonagall, Faith, Willow and Dawn were in Buffy and Willow's room, and they were holding a big power powwow.

"Where are we going?" Willow asked.

"I figured we'd do a little recon first, see what we can find out," Buffy said. She asked Faith, "You up for it?"

Faith nodded as she looked toward Sirius who smiled at her. "I'm ready to motor."

"Willow, when we leave. I want you to put up a barrier spell. We know The First can get past the Fidelius Charm. We don't know about its followers, not for sure."

"I will have one up," Willow said.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Faith, Buffy and Dawn followed a Bringer, who was darting through the darkness in a brisk and furtive way. The Bringer led them into a clearing, heading toward an old building, stone and vine-covered. Dark wood abounded; there were shadows, and it was quiet.

Abandoned, but not empty.

The Bringer went straight for a heavy wooden door, opened it, and went inside. He started down some stairs . . . and then the Slayers' view was cut off as the door slammed shut.

"What is this place?" Faith asked.

"Look." Buffy gestured. "There's more of them."

Bringers from the north of them, Bringers from the west. they walked out of the woods, maybe four of them, all headed for Door #1.

"Looks like we found our hornet's nest," Faith murmured.

Buffy concurred. "Dawn, bring in the cavalry," she said.

Dawn opened a portal and Xander, Spike, Sirius, Harry, McGonagall and Dumbledore stepped out.

"Harry, Xander," Buffy said. "Set up a perimeter. Guard the door. I don't want anything getting in behind us."

"Do you …?" Harry started to ask.

"If you hear screaming. I want you two to make the choice," Buffy said. "I'm not putting anyone in harm's way who doesn't want to be."

"You know me, Buff," Xander said. "Till the end."

"The same goes for me, Buffy," agreed Harry. "If this Is to be the end, the one place I would want to face it is at yours and Dawn's sides."

Dawn and Buffy smiled at their brother.

The rest of the group crept downstairs into the vast main cellar of the building. The cavernous room was filled with wine barrels and large casks. It smelled of must and wine. It was cold.

They were sharp, ready. Moving in formation, they spread out, guarding each other's backs.

"Stay alert," Buffy commanded them. "Bringers are here somewhere. We just need to find where they went . . ."

"Shouldn't be too hard," Spike said loudly.

A phalanx of Bringers stepped forward into the light from the dark archways around the room. They were armed—knives, staffs—and they had the group surrounded.

Dumbledore and McGonagall raised their wands.

"Cover each other's backs," Dumbledore said. "Let them come to us."

And they did.

The Bringers attacked, bringing chaos and destruction with them.

Sirius, Dumbledore, Dawn and McGonagall fired of stunning spells while Faith, Buffy and Spike traded rapid-fire blows with their Bringers.

Within moments the Bringers were either dead or unconscious.

From the darkness just ahead of them came the soft clicking of boots on concrete. They turned and saw Caleb, smiling evilly.

"Well now," he began easily, "you all are just burning with righteousness, aren't you? Problem is, you think you're blazing like suns, when really your matchsticks in the face of darkness." He walked toward the Slayers, as calm as he could be. "You having fun? Hope my boys haven't worn you out too much. Need you fit for when I . . . purify you."

"Save the sermon, padre," Buffy snapped. "We heard you had something of ours."

"Well, I do now," he said, obviously amused. "You liked my little message, did you? You know, I ruined a perfectly good knife on that girl. Got her soiled blood all over the place. I may need a new truck." He looked at Buffy, Dawn and Faith. "So, you're the Slayers," he said. "The strongest and fastest and most aflame with that most precious invention of all mankind the notion of goodness. The Slayer must indeed be powerful."

Dawn saw him aiming a punch straight at her. She smiled and waved then opened a portal and he dropped into it.

"Where did you send him?" Dumbledore asked.

"Hell dimension," Dawn answered. "He won't be a problem."

"Spread out," Buffy said. "Let's find what he's got."

McGonagall was the one to find something, a small copper trap door in the floor. "Buffy," she said.

Buffy walked over to McGonagall and smiled. "Faith, Dawn, you both are with me." Dawn and Faith came over to Buffy and they pulled open the trap door and climbed down.

They looked around at the walls of rough stone. They realized they had found what Caleb and The First had been hiding from them.

"Sword in the stone deal," Dawn said as she looked at a scythe buried to its hilt in stone. "So, which of us do you think is King Arthur?"

"Buffy," Faith said. "Give it a try. You were called first out of the three of us."

Buffy walked forward, reached out a hand and gripped the scythe's handle and, as easily as pulling a knife from butter, pulled it from the rock.

The scythe felt good in her hand; it felt right.

It felt like it belonged to her. But did it?

Buffy looked at her sister and Faith. She tossed the scythe to Faith. "What do you feel?" she asked.

Faith caught the scythe and she like Buffy could feel that it belonged to her. "Damn. That's like, wow," she said. "It feels like it belongs to me."

"Which likely means," Dawn said as Faith handed her the scythe and she too felt it. "That it belongs to the Slayer. Which means it belongs to all three of us."

"Ah so you found it!"

Buffy, Faith and Dawn turned and saw The First.

"Not going to help you any. Willow go boom!"

In the Summers' home Willow stood in the middle of the living room. She could feel something on the other side of her barrier spell was adding ever increasing pressure to the barrier.

Suddenly a portal snapped into existence and Buffy, Faith, Dumbledore, Xander, Harry, Dawn, Spike and McGonagall came through.

"Baby, drop the shield, now," Buffy said.

"What?" Willow asked.

"We don't know what The First is doing," Dumbledore said. "But it has threatened that you and everyone here were going to die in an explosion."

Willow waved her hand and the barrier spell dissipated. For the time being they were safe.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Moments later McGonagall, Willow and Dumbledore worked in Willow's room, McGonagall and Dumbledore held tomes in their hands. Willow was on her laptop. The scythe was like a third person in the room, a silent sentinel with its secrets locked away . . . and the power in it thrumming eagerly, to be used by the Slayer.

Then Willow found something. "Okay," she said, looking at the screen, "before the vineyard was just you know, a vineyard? It was a monastery." She glanced over at the scythe. "It could have been put there. Creepy monks, messing with powers they don't understand?"

"I believe it is far older than that," Dumbledore said.

"Well, I found a reference to stories the monks used to tell about something older . . . like, maybe some kind of pagan temple."

"Native American?" McGonagall wondered.

"No." Willow thought a moment, glanced again at the screen, then back at the two Hogwarts professors. "Maybe we're coming at this the wrong way. Maybe we need to research the weapon itself." She gestured. "I mean, look . . . maybe it's the Axe of Dekeron . . ." She read off the monitor ". . . said to have been forged in Hell itself. Lost since the Children's Crusade, where it killed a lot of . . . children." She looked up. "I hope that's not it."

Dumbledore gestured with his book. "I've found references to the Sword of Moskva, and the Reaper of the Tigris. The problem there is that there isn't a clear enough illustration."

Willow got up and crossed to the scythe, warily lifting it up. She examined it. "It doesn't have any markings," she said. "Would it be so hard to include a little sticker? 'Hello, my name is the Blank of Blankthuselah, consult operating instructions before wielding."

She closed her eyes, moving into a meditative state, searching for the scythe's vibratory plane.

Buffy stepped into the room and saw Willow holding the scythe. "Do you feel anything, baby?"

Willow opened her eyes and looked at her wife. "Not at first glance, must be a Slayer thing," she said. She closed her eyes and opened herself to her own magic. She could feel the magic that radiated from the scythe. "Yes, I can feel it." She set it down and went back to the computer. She studied the screen again. "Man, none of this sounds right." She pointed. "Look at this, something just called m with a question mark. What the heck is that?"

Dumbledore stepped up behind Willow and looked at the screen, in particular the m with a question mark.

"Albus?" McGonagall said.

"As you know Minerva, I studied hieroglyphs. This is m plus glottal stop which represented by a little picture commonly thought to represent a sickle or scythe. It appears in thousands of carvings, in Egypt and throughout the ancient world."

"Carvings?" Willow echoed, looking at Dumbledore. She could feel the tumblers beginning to line up, the sense to become . . . sensible. "Like you'd have on a pagan temple?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy, Faith and Dawn stepped out of a portal into a clean, well-kept cemetery. They walked looking for the place Willow, Dumbledore and McGonagall had found. They eventually spotted a tomb, Egyptian-looking in design.

They tried to find a way to open the door, then finally gave up and pushed it down, sending up a plume of dust that swirled and eddied like a ghost before it dissipated.

They entered cautiously, amazed at the thick layers of dust coating the walls, thinking vaguely of mummy movies and wondering what weird context Andrew would put this in.

"I'd forgotten," a voice echoed in the dark.

Dawn, Faith and Buffy whirled around, the scythe at the ready in Buffy's hand.

An old woman sat on a throne of dust, her clothes so old and faded they appeared to be made of dust as well. Her face was sepia, her eyes . . . ancient.

"I'd forgotten how young you three would be," she said. "It comes from the waiting. The mind plays tricks."

They walked toward her, and the woman gestured to the scythe. "I see you found our weapon."

"Who are you?" Buffy asked cautiously.

"One of many." The woman closed her eyes, opened them, looked far off through time, so much, so very much, but distant memory. "Well, time was. Now I'm alone in the world." She ticked her gaze toward Buffy. "I'd gamble you out of the other two know what that's like."

She stood, approached Dawn, Faith and Buffy; they stiffened and went on the defensive.

"Don't worry," the woman said. "You hit me, I'd just about crack in half. But then . . ." She scrutinized the scythe, keeping a respectful distance. "You three have been doing some killing lately. And you all are going to do a lot more. Not a wonder you're so anxious."

"So, who are you?" Faith demanded impatiently. "Some kind of ghost?"

"Nope." The woman smiled faintly. "I'm as real as you are. Just . . . well, put it this way. I look good for my age." She said again, "I've been waiting."

She held out her hand, and waited. Buffy felt compelled to hand her the scythe. The woman hefted it appreciatively, and examined it. "Which of you pulled it out of the rock?"

"I did," Buffy answered.

"I was one of those who put it there, and don't think that was easy." She smiled more fully.

"What is it?" Dawn asked.

"Weapon," the woman replied, as is if it should be obvious. "A scythe. We forged it in secrecy, for one like the three of you who . . ." She stopped and smiled at the Slayers, still holding the scythe. She looked like a Tarot card, wonderful and old and mystical.

"I'm sorry," she said. "What are your names?"

"Buffy."

"Faith."

"Dawn."

"Buffy, Faith, Dawn." The woman tested their names on her tongue. Then she proceeded. "We kept it hidden from the Shadow Men, who—"

"Who?" Buffy asked.

"They became the Watchers, and the Watchers watched the Slayers." She raised her brows and said proudly, "But we were watching them."

"What are you?" Dawn wondered.

"Guardians," the woman said. "Women who want to help and protect you. This . . ." She gestured to the scythe ". . . was forged, centuries ago, by us. Halfway around the world."

Buffy glanced around. "Hence, the Luxor casino theme."

"Forged there, it was put to use right here," the woman continued. "Only once, to kill the last pure demon that walked upon the earth. The rest were already driven under. And then there were men here, and then there were monks. And the first men died and were sent away, and then there was a town." She looked at the Slayers. "And now there are the three of you. And the scythe remained hidden."

"Does this mean we can win?" Buffy asked.

The woman shrugged. "That's really up to you three. This . . ." she reached out, running a finger along the flat side of the scythe. ". . . is a powerful weapon. But you already have weapons. Use it wisely and perhaps you can beat back the rising dark. One way or the other, it can only mean an end is truly near."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As Buffy, Faith and Dawn exited the tomb two things surprised them. One that night had fallen and they wondered how long they had been in there. Two was that Angel stood there waiting for them.

"Buffy," Angel said.

"Hey," Buffy said as she stepped up to the vampire and hugged him before stepping back.

"Not what I would have expected from you, Buffy," he said.

"Didn't you hear, Angel," Faith said. "Buffy got married."

"You did?" Angel asked as Buffy nodded. "I'm happy for you."

"So, what are you doing here, Angel?" Dawn asked.

Angel looked at Dawn and then at Buffy, they could see surprise register on his face.

"She was called last year," Faith said. "I flatlined on an operating table after being shot. As you can see, I take after Buffy. With the dying not sticking thing."

Angel nodded as he handed Buffy an accordion file. "I got coverage on the whole thing. Very gripping, needs a first act."

Buffy shook her head. "You would have to leave L.A."

Angel looked at them and said, "It's the First. Right? The First Evil. The power that tried to convince me to kill myself."

"Yeah." Dawn said.

"It's gotten a little more ambitious since then," Buffy added. "It's raising an army."

Angel considered. "Well, it failed once."

"Reliable source?" Faith wondered motioning to the file.

"Not remotely," Angel assured them.

"Well, any port in an apocalypse," Buffy said.

"I brought something else as well," Angel said as he pulled out a tremendously gaudy amulet and held it out to Buffy.

"I can already tell you, none of us has anything that goes with this," Buffy said as Faith and Dawn laughed.

"It's not for any of you," Angel told them.

"Explain," Dawn said.

Angel shook his head. "I don't know everything. It's very powerful and probably very dangerous. Has a purifying power . . . or a cleansing power ...?" He glanced at it ". . . or possibly scrubbing bubbles. The translation is . . . anyway, it bestows strength, worn by the right person."

"And the right person is...?" Faith asked.

"Someone ensouled. But stronger than human. A champion." A beat. "As in me."

"Or us," Dawn said.

"No," he said firmly. "I don't know nearly enough about this to risk you three wearing it. Besides . . ." He grinned faintly. "You all have already got that cool axe thing."

"So, you're going to be in this with us?" Faith asked.

"Shoulder to shoulder," Angel answered.

Buffy looked at Angel and said, "No."

Angel frowned. "No, what?"

"No, you're not going to be in this fight," Buffy said.

"We can't risk you," Faith added. "We need a last line of defense in case we fail."

"Faith's right," Buffy agreed. "If this gets past Sunnydale, then it's days—or hours—before the rest of the world goes. We need a second front, and we need you to run it."

"If I'm here we have a better shot at capping this thing," he insisted. He gestured to the papers in Buffy's hands. "I've read the files—"

"We've lived the files," Dawn interjected. "Or have you forgotten my first introduction to Buffy's life?"

"I have not forgotten, Dawn," Angel said as he remembered the young girl who had cradled her sister's head begging said sister to wake up.

"It's our fight," Buffy said. "It might be our last. But it's ours."

He looked at them. "Okay," he said.

Author's Note: Next chapter is the episode Chosen, then we head back into the Harry Potter side of things with Half Blood Prince. I have been debating doing one more arc for Buffy between Half Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows and pulling from the BTVS novel Dark Congress. The problem I have there is in that novel Tara was resurrected. That would mess with my Buffy/Willow pairing and I am not interested in doing a menage a troi pairing again (I have one in Slayer Reborn) at the moment.