Charmed: Another Halliwell

by Brenna's Urbangirl Projects

Summary: Buffy Summers is the daughter of Joyce and Hank Summers. Joyce was born Patience Joyce Halliwell she was Prue, Piper and Phoebe's aunt. When Joyce dies Buffy is left in the care of her cousins. Pairings: Prue, Piper, and Phoebe (and later Paige) canon pairings. Buffy/Dawn (Yes, Forbidden Sibling Love). A/U Set during and after Charmed Season 1 and Buffy season 1.

64. Chapter 64: Bad Girls

Chapter 64: Bad Girls

February 10, 1999 – Wednesday

Restfield Cemetery

Faith's heart pounded with the intensity of the fight, her body aching from the vampire's brutal blow to her face. Amidst the chaos, she couldn't help but bring up a personal question she had for Buffy, her voice laced with a mix of frustration and confusion.

She had dared to ask about Buffy and Xander, wondering if there had ever been something more between them. Buffy's denial had stung, leaving Faith with lingering doubts and a yearning for clarity.

With a fierce determination, Faith unleashed a flurry of powerful blows, driving the vampire back momentarily. But a brief glance at Buffy, her eyes seeking answers, proved to be her downfall. The other vampire seized the opportunity, catching her off guard and slamming her to the ground alongside Buffy. Their throats were constricted in the vice-like grip of their assailants, fighting to maintain their hold on life itself.

In the midst of the life-or-death struggle, Faith's mind remained fixated on her question, a testament to her stubborn nature. "So, what, you're telling me never?" she demanded, unable to let go of her curiosity even in the face of mortal danger.

Buffy, fighting for breath, couldn't help but be exasperated by Faith's timing. "Faith, really," she grunted, pushing back against the vampire above her. "Now is not the time."

But Faith was defensive, needing some answers even in the midst of the life-threatening battle. "I'm curious," she persisted, her voice tinged with vulnerability. "Never ever?"

Despite the dire situation, the two Slayers managed to shake off the vampires, their battle-hardened instincts kicking in. With almost synchronized grace, they leaped back to their feet, ready to take on whatever came their way.

"Come on, really. All this time and not even once?" Faith asked incredulously, the adrenaline fueling her need for the truth.

As the vampire rushed towards her, Faith landed a solid punch, followed by a swift toss to the ground.

"How many times do I have to say this?" Buffy's voice held a mix of frustration and determination as she faced off against the vampire, her heart pounding in her chest. "I have never—" she began, but before she could finish her sentence, the other vampire lunged at her, forcing her to react swiftly with a punch to drive it back. Her movements were fluid and fierce, fueled by her commitment to defending herself and her friends.

With a fireball forming in her hand, she hurled it at the vampire, causing it to burst into flames and disintegrate into a cloud of dust. Buffy turned to Faith, the emotional intensity still lingering in her eyes. "He's just a friend," she stated firmly, trying to quell any doubts about her relationship with Xander.

Faith, however, wasn't ready to let the matter go. As she dispatched her own vampire, she moved closer to Buffy, her voice tinged with a hint of playfulness and mischief. "So," she argued, her tone suggestive, "what are friends for?" Faith's words carried an undercurrent of teasing. "I mean, I'm sorry, it's just all the sweaty, nightly, side-by-side action, and you never put in for a little after hours—" She grunted, made a little motion with her hips.

Buffy raised her eyebrows, unsure whether to laugh or roll her eyes at Faith's banter. "Thanks for the poetry, and no," she replied with a hint of amusement. "I love Xander, I just don't love Xander. Besides, I think it ruins friendships to do that stuff."

Faith, ever the bold one, insisted that Buffy was overthinking things. "You think too much," she teased, but her playful demeanor masked a deeper concern for her friend.

Buffy's focus shifted abruptly as she noticed tracks and footprints in the dirt. Her face turned serious, her instincts kicking in. "There's one left," she whispered, her voice tinged with urgency and determination.

"How do you know?" Faith asked, her curiosity piqued.

Buffy's response was direct, her tone solemn. "I think too much," she said.

Without hesitation, Buffy set off in the direction the tracks led, Faith following close behind. The night enveloped them in darkness as they approached a small tomb. Something stirred in the shadows, and the tension in the air grew palpable.

"On three," Buffy whispered, her voice barely audible. "One—"

With a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, Faith propelled herself forward, gracefully rolling across the tomb, and landed on the other side. As expected, a third vampire awaited her, clad in the same ancient warrior attire as its fallen companions.

"Three," Buffy's voice murmured from behind.

The vampire struck Faith, a powerful blow that she skillfully parried before launching a retaliatory kick. To her surprise, the creature proved to be swifter and more adept in combat than she had anticipated. With a lightning-fast movement, it seized her leg mid-kick and ruthlessly flung her to the ground, the impact reverberating through her body.

From her vantage point on the ground, Faith's gaze lifted, capturing the sight of Buffy charging towards the vampire. The warrior, armed with a pair of swords, drawn from its belt, prepared to face the Slayer head-on.

Buffy unleashed a flurry of expertly executed punches and kicks, disarming the vampire and sending its swords clattering to the moldy ground. However, despite being disarmed, the monster retained its formidable strength. Buffy's strikes were deflected, and the vampire retaliated by seizing her by the neck, constricting her airway and tightening its grip.

In that moment of peril, Buffy's cry pierced the air, a desperate plea for help. Faith rushed forward. Holding her stake high, she charged at the vampire. With a swift punch, Faith drove the stake through the vampire's back, piercing its heart. The creature erupted into a cloud of swirling ashes, dissipating in the breeze.

"Nicely diverted, B," Faith exclaimed, her voice filled with a mix of admiration and triumph, raising her hand for a high five. But Buffy left her hanging.

"Diverted," Buffy replied, her breathing heavy and labored. "That was me fighting for my life, Miss Attention Span."

"Hey, this isn't a Tupperware party," Faith countered, her voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and amusement. "It's a little hard to plan on the fly."

"The count of three isn't a plan," Buffy snapped back, her irritation evident in her tone. "It's Sesame Street."

Faith's attempt to lighten the mood didn't go unnoticed as she reasoned, "Hey, they're toast, and we're here, so it couldn't have been too bad, right?" Her words held a touch of bravado, masking any lingering unease from the battle they just fought. She was always quick to put up a brave front. "Who were those guys, anyway?" she asked.

Buffy's shoulders rose and fell in a shrug, her brow furrowing with uncertainty. "I don't know. They didn't seem local. Look, why don't we grab the weapons, maybe Giles—" Her voice trailed off as her gaze settled on the spot where the vampire had dropped his blades.

Sensing Buffy's concern, Faith followed Buffy's gaze and found herself frowning as well. The unsettling truth became evident—the weapons were gone, vanished without a trace.

February 11, 1999 – Thursday

Gateway High School

Buffy sat with her friends, her heart filled with a mix of admiration and pride as she listened to Willow excitedly talk about her college choices. The student lounge buzzed with anticipation and uncertainty, the air thick with the weight of their future decisions.

Xander's amazement was evident as he sifted through the college catalogs and envelopes, his fingers delicately handling the possibilities that lay before them. "Willow, what are these?" he asked, his voice tinged with wonder.

Buffy chimed in, her own excitement palpable. "Wow, Willow. Looks like early admission came early this year," she observed, her eyes sparkling with joy for her best friend.

Oz, ever the calm and collected one, couldn't help but add a touch of humor to the conversation. "Hence the name," he quipped, his words infused with a sense of ease that belied the gravity of the moment.

Xander's attempt at humor betrayed the underlying nervousness he felt. "Harvard, Yale, Wesleyan… some German Polytechnical Institute whose name I can't pronounce," he listed, his voice tinged with awe. "Is anyone else intimidated? Because I'm just expecting thin slips of paper with the words 'no way' written in crayon."

Oz's response, delivered with his characteristic coolness, brought a chuckle from Buffy. "They're typing those now," he said, adding a touch of realism to the conversation.

Willow's excitement was infectious as she shared her joy at being accepted to actual colleges, her voice filled with a mix of elation and disbelief. " I'm so overwhelmed. I got in! To actual colleges. And they're wooing me... they're pitching woo," she exclaimed, her happiness evident in every word.

Buffy couldn't help but smile at her friend's joy. "The wooing stage is always fun," she commented, cherishing this special time of anticipation and possibility.

Yet, beneath the excitement, Willow couldn't help but voice her vulnerability. "But it's weird," she confessed, her tone revealing her insecurities. "Rejection I can handle because of the years of training, but this…"

Xander, in his own cynical yet supportive way, empathized with Willow's sentiments. "I feel your pain, Will," he said, nodding in understanding. "Like, right now? I'm torn between the fast-growing fields of appliance repair and motel management. Of course, I'm still waiting to hear back from the Corndog Emporium, so…" His humor served as a coping mechanism, masking the uncertainties that lay beneath the surface.

Buffy's words were filled with encouragement and a hint of excitement, her eyes shining with genuine support for her best friend. "Embrace it, Will," she urged, her voice warm and reassuring. "There's nothing standing between you and a whole new world."

Oz leaned in, his usual calm demeanor softened by a touch of concern. "Except... If I may suggest? Graduate. Getting left back? Not the thrill ride you'd expect," he offered, his words carrying the weight of wisdom from someone who had experienced life's challenges firsthand.

Even as he spoke, Cordelia strutted over. Buffy noticed that she was dressing to look hotter than ever, in a short black skirt and tight red top. After what had happened with Xander and Willow, it was not enough for Cordelia to dump him, she had to make him suffer for it every possible moment.

"That's so cute," Cordelia sneered, her tone dripping with scorn as she addressed Xander. "Planning life as a loser? Most people just turn out that way, but you're really taking charge."

Xander, in an attempt to protect his wounded pride, responded with a sarcastic retort, his voice a mixture of bravado and pain. "The comedy stylings of Cordelia Chase, everyone!" he announced with a tad too much volume, his facade momentarily slipping. "Who incidentally won't be needing a higher education when she can just market her own very successful line of Hooker Wear."

Cordelia's comeback was sharp, her words cutting through Xander's bravado. "Well, Xander, I could dress more like you, but... oh, my father has a job," she fired back before storming away.

Xander, feeling both wounded and defiant, turned to his friends, his gaze seeking reassurance and solidarity. "So, life beyond high school. Anyone. For the love of God, please, chime in," he pleaded, the weight of uncertainty about the future heavy on his shoulders.

Buffy offered a glimmer of hope amidst the tension, acknowledging the allure of a life beyond high school. "I hear it's nice," she said with a faint smile, her own dreams and aspirations mingling with the uncertainties of her academic challenges. "And a place I'll never go if I don't pass Mrs. Taggart's chem test tomorrow."

"Oh, I can help," Willow reassured her, her voice tinged with warmth and genuine eagerness to assist her friend. "Chemistry's easy. It's just like witchcraft, only less newt. Which makes me wonder how come you have trouble with it."

Buffy's reply carried a hint of self-awareness. "Piper does most of the potion making," she explained. "Though she has been teaching me to cook. Or at least trying to."

Willow's offer to have a study jam at her house brought a spark of excitement to Buffy's eyes. "So what do you say? Study jam, my house, tonight?" Willow proposed, her voice filled with genuine enthusiasm and the joy of spending time together.

"I'm there," Buffy vowed with a firm nod, her commitment to her friend shining through.

As the bell rang, signaling the end of their conversation and the beginning of their next class, Buffy found herself lingering, not quite ready to rush off to her next lesson. Her mind was on other duties she had to attend to. "I have to go see Giles. Report on last night's patrol," she explained, the weight of her duty evident in her voice.

Willow's concern for Giles brought a frown to her face, a mix of worry and empathy for the Watcher. "Oh, yeah, he said he wanted to talk to you," she mentioned.

Curious and worried, Buffy pressed further. "What about? Is he okay?" she inquired, her voice revealing her genuine concern for their mentor and one of the many male influences in her life.

Willow's frown deepened, her voice tinged with a touch of sadness. "He's looked better," she admitted, the gravity of Giles' condition evident in her response.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the library, Giles struggled to maintain a façade of politeness, his emotions oscillating between a sense of weariness and a simmering frustration. He was on the brink of losing his patience with the new arrival, an insufferably self-important man poking about in his treasured rare books. Giles knew that, out of courtesy and his position with the Council, he had to restrain his true feelings, but it was a challenging task.

His thoughts couldn't help but drift to an amusing yet scathing comparison. "Thinks he's Sean Connery when he's quite a bit more George Lazenby," Giles mused to himself, the momentary spark of humor offering little relief from the throbbing headache that plagued him. He wished he could banish Wesley from the library, kicking him out on his bony backside, but he couldn't. He was no longer Buffy's Watcher; Wesley was.

Wesley's air of self-importance grated on Giles' nerves as the man spoke condescendingly about the updated training procedures. "Of course, training procedures have been updated quite a bit since your day," Wesley remarked superciliously, his tone dripping with arrogance. "Much greater emphasis on field work."

Giles couldn't resist a dry retort, his voice tinged with sarcasm. "Really?" he replied, the weight of years of experience and wisdom behind his words.

Wesley continued to boast, oblivious to the subtle jabs Giles was taking at his inflated ego. "Oh yes. It's not all books and theory nowadays," he asserted. "I have, in fact, faced two vampires myself. Under controlled circumstances, of course."

Giles couldn't help but feel a mix of irritation and amusement at Wesley's attempts to prove himself. "You're in no danger of finding those here," he informed the pompous Watcher, his words laced with a hint of exasperation.

"Vampires?" Wesley asked, his tone revealing his curiosity and lack of real-world experience.

Giles couldn't help but smirk, a mixture of amusement and relief crossing his face as Buffy entered the library. "Controlled circumstances. Hello, Buffy," he greeted her warmly, his eyes reflecting the deep bond they shared.

Buffy's gaze turned toward Wesley, her eyes filled with suspicion and a hint of wariness as she assessed the newcomer. Her instincts couldn't help but question the intentions of this new Watcher.

"Well, hello," Wesley responded, attempting to project an air of suavity and charm, though his nervousness betrayed him.

Buffy turned to Giles, seeking confirmation. "New Watcher?" she asked, her voice carrying a mixture of curiosity and caution.

Giles nodded solemnly, acknowledging the change in their dynamic. "New Watcher," he confirmed, his voice carrying a tinge of melancholy at the shifting dynamics of their relationship.

Wesley stepped forward, attempting to make a good impression, and extended his hand in greeting. "Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. It's very nice to meet you," he introduced himself with forced enthusiasm.

Buffy's eyes briefly flickered down to Wesley's outstretched hand, her expression cool and guarded. She deliberately chose not to reciprocate the gesture, her subtle rejection sending a clear message. Slightly taken aback, Wesley withdrew his hand, realizing that his attempt at charm had fallen flat.

Buffy turned her attention back to Giles, her gaze searching for answers. "Is he evil?" she asked bluntly, her voice carrying the weight of past betrayals and the lingering trauma of previous encounters with nefarious Watchers.

Taken aback by the accusation, Wesley stuttered, struggling to defend himself. "Evil?" he repeated, his voice filled with genuine surprise and a touch of indignation.

Buffy's response held a hint of weariness, as she imparted her hard-earned wisdom. "The last one was evil," she informed him.

"Oh yes," Wesley replied, his voice carrying a hint of defiance as he lifted his chin, clearly not shying away from the topic. "Gwendolyn Post. We all heard. Mr. Giles has checked my credentials rather thoroughly and phoned the Council, but I'm glad to see you're on the ball as well." His attempt at nonchalance masked a deeper desire to prove himself to Buffy.

Wesley leaned in toward her, his voice dripping with melodrama as he emphasized the importance of caution in a Slayer's duties. "A good Slayer is a cautious Slayer," he declared, trying to impress upon Buffy the weight of their shared responsibilities.

Dubious, Buffy glanced at Giles again, searching for any hint that he trusted this new Watcher. The emotional connection between them was evident, and Buffy wanted reassurance that Giles was making the right choice in accepting Wesley into their fold. Her question was direct, carrying the weight of her past experiences with untrustworthy authority figures. "Is he evil?" she asked, her voice revealing a mix of concern and suspicion.

Giles, aware of the history that had shaped Buffy's trust issues, offered his own assessment of Wesley. "Not in the strictest sense," he replied, trying to offer a balanced view of the man.

Wesley, peeved by the questioning of his character, sniffed with obvious annoyance, yet trying to maintain a façade of professionalism. "Well, I'm glad that's cleared up," he retorted, his desire to earn Buffy's respect evident in his tone.

"As I'm sure none of us is anxious to waste time on pleasantries," Wesley continued, shifting the focus back to business. "And as I'm sure none of us is anxious to waste time on pleasantries, why don't you tell me everything about last night's patrol."

Buffy, however, couldn't hide her boredom, and she rolled her eyes in response. "Vampires," she stated simply.

"Vampires?" Wesley prodded, expecting a more thorough report from the Slayer.

"Killed 'em," Buffy responded, her nonchalant reply showcasing her casual confidence in her abilities.

Seeking to extract more valuable information from her, Wesley pressed further. "Anything else you can tell me?" he inquired, hoping to demonstrate his keen attention to detail and strategic thinking.

Giles, sensing Buffy's reluctance to open up fully, offered her a supportive look, encouraging her to share more about the encounter. Although hesitant, Buffy obliged, offering only the necessary details. "One of them had swords. I don't think he was with the other two," she reluctantly revealed.

Wesley's eyes lit up with excitement, his passion for knowledge evident as he heard Buffy's description of the swords. Eager to demonstrate his expertise, he hurried to a box of books he had brought from London and flipped through the pages of one particular volume. His fingers traced the illustrations with reverence as he found the relevant section.

"One long, one short?" he asked, seeking confirmation with a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Buffy nodded, her expression curious as she recalled the vivid details of the swords she had encountered during the fight. "Both pointy. With jewels and stuff," she added, emphasizing the unique and ornate nature of the weapons.

Giles chimed in, recognizing the significance of the swords. "Sounds familiar," he remarked, his interest piqued by the familiar symbols of the ancient blades.

Wesley eagerly shared his knowledge, handing the book to Giles to read about the historical significance of the swords. The page displayed lavish illustrations of the pair of ancient swords, and Giles absorbed the information.

"El Eliminati," Giles began to read aloud, but before he could delve further, Wesley interjected, taking the opportunity to showcase his expertise. "Fifteenth-century duelist cult. Deadly in their day, their numbers dwindled in later centuries due to an increase in anti-vampire activity and a lot of pointless dueling," Wesley explained with enthusiasm, reciting the knowledge from memory. "They eventually became the acolytes of a demon called Balthazar…"

The name caught Buffy's attention, triggering a sudden thought. "Belthazor?" she interjected, her mind racing with the possibility of a connection to Cole.

"No Balthazar," Wesley corrected her, his attention focused on the historical information at hand. "I take it you have dealt with a demon by a similar name?" he inquired.

Buffy replied with a simple "Yes," her voice holding a hint of trepidation.

"Anyways," Wesley continued, his voice carrying a mix of excitement and trepidation. "Balthazar brought them to the New World. Specifically, here."

Giles closed the book and handed it back to Wesley, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and suspicion. "You seem to know a lot about them," he remarked, his tone laced with a hint of admiration for Wesley's expertise.

With a smug expression, Wesley returned the book to its rightful place in the box. "I didn't get this job because of my looks," he quipped, his words revealing his underlying need for validation and recognition.

Buffy chimed in with a playful tone. "I really, really believe that," she said, a hint of mischief in her voice.

Clearly stung by the sarcasm, Wesley retorted, emphasizing the extent of his research. "I've researched this town's history extensively," he insisted, his words a defense against any doubts about his qualifications.

Giles, sensing the tension, redirected the conversation to gather more information. "So why haven't we seen them before this?" he inquired, seeking to understand the sudden reappearance of the Eliminati.

Wesley, still trying to regain his composure, explained the circumstances surrounding their absence. "They were driven out a hundred years ago. Happily, Balthazar was killed. I don't know by whom," he admitted, a tinge of frustration creeping into his voice at the missing details.

Buffy's brow furrowed in curiosity as she pressed for more information. "And... they're back because?" she prompted, wanting to uncover the motivation behind the Eliminati's return.

Wesley hesitated for a moment before responding, revealing a hint of uncertainty beneath his bravado. "Balthazar had an amulet, purported to give him strength. When he was killed, it was taken by a wealthy landowner named ... I don't want to bore you with the details," he said, attempting to downplay the significance of the information.

Buffy raised one eyebrow, her curiosity piqued. "Little bit late," she quipped, recognizing the irony of Wesley withholding details after sharing so much.

Wesley quickly backtracked, eager to provide the necessary context. "Named Gleaves," he admitted, acknowledging that the information might indeed be relevant. "It was buried with him, and I believe the few remaining Eliminati are probably looking for it. For sentimental value," he concluded, trying to paint a clearer picture of the situation they were facing.

Giles couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss with Wesley's nonchalant response. "And you don't think this amulet poses any threat?" he questioned, his voice tinged with a mix of concern and suspicion, wanting to ensure they were fully aware of the potential dangers.

Wesley, however, seemed dismissive of any possible danger. "Oh no, not at all. Nonetheless, we may as well keep it from them. Buffy, you will go to the Gleaves family crypt tonight and fetch the amulet," he declared with a hint of authority.

Buffy's response was a mixture of amusement and playful resistance. "I will?" she echoed, raising an eyebrow challengingly, challenging Wesley's assumption.

Wesley's frown deepened as he tried to assert his authority. "Are you not used to being given orders?" he retorted, attempting to establish a more commanding presence.

Buffy's smile only grew wider, displaying her natural wit and defiance. "Whenever Giles sends me on a mission, he always says please," she said with a bright tone, adding a touch of humor to her words. "And afterward, I get a cookie!" she teased, sharing a lighthearted moment with Giles, who stifled a chuckle beside her.

Wesley seemed to take Buffy's light-heartedness as a challenge to his position, and he tried to regain control of the situation. "I don't feel we're getting off on quite the right foot," he began, attempting to steer the conversation back to business.

However, before he could continue, the library doors swung open, and Faith made a dramatic entrance. Her swagger and the way she casually dragged her finger along the book checkout counter exuded confidence. Wesley couldn't help but be drawn to her presence. "Ah!" he exclaimed appreciatively. "This is perhaps Faith?"

Faith checked Wesley out from top to bottom, and her expression revealed her lack of enthusiasm at his presence. She glanced toward Buffy and Giles, seeking confirmation. "New Watcher?" she asked bluntly.

"New Watcher," both Buffy and Giles confirmed simultaneously.

Faith's reaction was swift and decisive. "Screw that," she declared, her defiance echoing through the library as she turned on her heels and strode back out the doors.

Petulance filled Buffy's eyes as she glanced at Giles, her frustration evident. "Now why didn't I just say that?" she mumbled under her breath, feeling a pang of annoyance at herself.

Giles, sensing her annoyance, attempted to address another matter. "Buffy, could you—" he began, but Buffy cut him off with a weary sigh.

"I'll see if I can get her back," she said, her tone resigned as she rose from her seat and brushed past Wesley. "Don't say anything incredibly interesting while I'm gone," she quipped with a hint of playful sarcasm.

Both men followed her departure with a mix of emotions. Wesley, determined to prove himself, held a firm belief that Buffy and Faith would eventually warm up to him. "They'll get used to me," he stated with a touch of assurance, though there was a trace of uncertainty in his eyes.

Giles let out a quiet sigh, silently contemplating the complex dynamics at play. He took off his glasses, gently cleaning them as if trying to clear his own thoughts. Wesley mirrored the gesture, as if trying to see things from Giles' perspective. When Giles slipped his glasses back on, his expression remained serious.

"Well, Faith, it might matter if she gets used to you," Giles finally spoke, his voice tinged with concern for both Faith and Buffy. "You should forget about Buffy. She is a Charmed One. Her allegiance is not to the Watcher's Council but to the Power of Three," he explained. "She will work with you, but she will not work for you," he concluded.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Outside, Buffy caught up to Faith as she stormed across the quad, not far from the fountain.

"Faith, wait," she said, moving up beside her. Faith stopped reluctantly and regarded Buffy. "I know this new guy's a dork, but … actually, I have nothing to follow that. He's just a dork."

"You're actually gonna take orders from him?" Faith replied, almost sneering. The prospect seemed absurd.

Buffy shrugged. "Probably not. But I do need his resources."

"You know," Faith enthused. "We're Slayers, girlfriend. The Chosen Two. Why should we let him take all the fun out of it?"

"That'd be tragic. Taking the fun out of slaying, stabbing, beheading—" Buffy said.

"Oh, like you don't dig it?" Faith replied.

"I don't," Buffy argued.

"Liar," Faith jabbed. "I've seen you. Tell me staking a vamp doesn't get you a little bit juiced. Come on, say it."

A bit embarrassed, Buffy glanced away. People passed by them, walking around the fountain.

Faith laughed gently. "You can't fool me. The look in your eyes right after a kill? Just get hungry for more."

"You are way off base," Buffy told her.

"Tell me that if you don't get in a good slaying, after a while you start itching for a vamp to show up so you can give him a good ungghh!" Faith thrust out her hand as though she held a stake.

"Again with the grunting," Buffy pointed out. "You realize I'm not comfortable with this."

Faith threw her hands up, a bright, cajoling smile on her face. "Hey, slaying's what we were built for. If you're not enjoying it, you're doing something wrong." She turned to walk away.

"What about the little idiot's mission?" Buffy called after her.

Faith paused only for a moment. "Tell you what, you go."

Shady Hill Cemetery

Night birds hooted and a cool breeze blew leaves across the grass as Buffy and Prue walked through the cemetery.

"So why is Faith not with you tonight?" Prue asked as they approached the crypt.

Buffy pushed the heavy door of the crypt open with a creak and she and Prue stepped inside. The flashlight beam illuminated the stone tombs and drawers, the sculpted statues. It was an enormous crypt. The Gleaves family had been very wealthy.

"New Watcher, Prue," Buffy answered as she moved to the first of the stone coffins. "I don't know why they couldn't just stay away. Anyways Faith doesn't want to play nice and I can't say I blame her. If it weren't for the fact Giles only has access to his own books now. I would say let's ship this guy back to England. But we need his resources."

The tomb's heavy lid seemed to stick a bit as she and Prue tried to slide it off, and then suddenly it moved with a rasp of stone on stone. Buffy shone her flashlight inside, and it illuminated the moldering bones within. There was no amulet.

"Strike one," Buffy muttered softly.

Prue moved to the next tomb and forced the slab of stone to one side. When Buffy flashed the light within, its glow glimmered off a jeweled amulet that was strung around the neck of a dusty corpse in red robes. "Here we go," Prue said with a grin.

"Game over," Buffy agreed, more than a bit relieved.

Then they heard voices behind them. They spun and saw the flickering of torches as someone approached the tomb. A lot of someones.

Without the amulet, Buffy and Prue leaped back to the first tomb and dropped inside, next to moldy, bare bones. Buffy snapped the flashlight off and dragged the slab across above them, closing them inside with the skeleton.

"Remind me not to mention this to Piper or Phoebe," Prue whispered as Buffy nodded in agreement.

Then they waited.

They could hear footsteps. A lot of footsteps. The guttering torchlight was barely visible through cracks in the stone. A clinking of metal told them they had failed in the mission. The vampires had the amulet.

A moment later the vampires went out again, the light of the torches and the sound of their footsteps receding. After counting to ten Buffy pushed back the stone slab above her and Prue. They rose up from the tomb … and Buffy felt a strong hand suddenly grip her shoulder.

Prue turned instinctively and thinking it was a vampire sent Faith telekinetically flying across the crypt.

"Faith!" Buffy said recognizing the other Slayer a second too late.

Prue frowned. "Sorry. You shouldn't have startled us like that, Faith."

"What are you two doing, hiding in there?" Faith questioned.

"Looking for the amulet," Buffy said defensively. "Wasn't counting on the special guest stars, ten against two. Hence the hiding."

Faith nodded. "Ten against three, now, so come on."

Outside, they saw the last of the vampires, torch in hand, drop into a sewer manhole and disappear. Faith rushed toward the hole in the ground, right in the middle of the cemetery.

"Wait. Stop. Think." Buffy said as she and Prue chased after Faith.

"No. No. No." Faith kept going.

"It's a manhole. Tight space, no escape, ten against three—not unlike three against one," Buffy reminded her.

And there might be more," Faith replied. "So come on."

"You're just gonna go down there? That's your plan?" Prue asked, stupefied.

"Who said I had a plan?" Faith countered looking at Prue. "I don't know how many's down there, but I wanna find out, and I'll know when I land. And if you don't come in after me—" Faith stepped up next to the manhole and smiled. "I might die." She jumped in without a second's hesitation.

Buffy rolled her eyes and stared at the manhole for a second. Then she turned to Prue. "She's right. I got to go."

Prue sighed. "Alright," she agreed not liking the odds that were stacked against them.

Then Buffy and Prue jumped in after Faith.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

With fierce determination blazing in her eyes, Faith lunged forward, unleashing a high kick at the menacing vampire before her. As her foot connected with the creature's cheek, she could feel the satisfying give of its skin under the powerful blow. The vampire stumbled back, clutching its injured face in agony, temporarily stunned by Faith's swift and forceful attack.

In the midst of the chaotic fray, Buffy and Prue fought alongside Faith, their movements a graceful dance of fury and skill. With each strike they landed upon the second and third vampires, the force behind their blows threatened to send the bloodsuckers reeling, struggling to maintain their balance.

The setting was a vast sewer maintenance area, a labyrinth of tunnels converging and diverging, and control valves dictating the flow of pipes throughout the space. The metallic scent of dampness and decay hung in the air, adding to the tension and urgency of the battle.

The vampires they faced were all adept swordsmen, reminiscent of the one they had dispatched the previous night. Some of the undead combatants had their blades unsheathed, while others relied on their speed and reflexes to outmaneuver their adversaries. The fight was a relentless whirlwind, leaving the group with little time to do anything other than defend themselves.

With every devastating blow they delivered, whether through backhands or expertly placed kicks, it seemed that another vampire quickly filled the void, pressing them from all sides. Though outnumbered by ten to one, the vampires displayed a remarkable agility and skill that made the fight all the more challenging.

Amid the fierce clashes, Buffy managed a brief moment to exchange words with Faith, her voice tinged with urgency, "We're surrounded!"

Faith, her adrenaline-fueled senses sharp, replied with a touch of humor, "Oh, you noticed that, too?" A small, wry laugh escaped her lips amidst the chaos, showcasing her bravado even in the face of overwhelming odds.

Buffy responded by performing a spinning kick, her lithe form a blur as she struck a vampire in the face. Planting her feet firmly, she then drove her foot into the gut of another assailant, sending it staggering backward. Just as she evaded a razor-sharp blade by a hair's breadth, the metallic clang of cold steel meeting concrete filled the air, a chilling reminder of the danger they faced.

Across the junction, Faith displayed her own remarkable prowess, flipping one vampire with such force that it collided with the unforgiving wall, emitting a pained grunt. Her gaze then shifted to another approaching foe, her swift kick sending him hurtling backward.

In the heart-pounding chaos of the relentless battle, Buffy, Prue, and Faith fought with all their might, their emotions mingling with adrenaline, and determination guiding their every move. Amidst the frenzy of fists and feet flying, Faith's mind struggled to keep track of the ever-changing faces of the monsters encircling her. She struck out wildly, her body a whirlwind of force and fury, her heart racing madly as she felt bone and flesh give way under the relentless barrage of her blows.

In the midst of the fight, two formidable vampires closed in on Prue with unexpected speed, catching her off guard while she was busy defending against a third assailant. With a crushing impact, they pinned her against the unforgiving wall, leaving her wild-eyed and struggling to break free. Her desperate gaze flickered toward Buffy and Faith, who had managed to clear some space around them, dealing with the recovering vampires. In that brief moment of respite, Buffy conjured a blazing fireball in her hand, while Faith readied her stake, poised to eliminate at least one vampire.

However, Buffy's attention was drawn to the perilous situation Prue found herself in. Despite the immediate threat, without a second thought, she hurled the fiery projectile at the vampires pinning her friend. The fireball hurtled through the air, connecting with its target, causing the vampire to scream in agony as flames engulfed him before he crumbled into ash.

But in that moment of selflessness, Buffy left herself vulnerable. An opportunistic vampire launched a surprise attack from behind, seizing her in a painful hold, immobilizing both of her arms. Faith and Prue called out to Buffy, but they, too, faced a swift resurgence of attackers, desperately pushing back the approaching vampires, yearning to reach their friend. Faith used her formidable headbutt to clear a path, enabling them to catch a glimpse of the perilous situation unfolding before them.

A second vampire, wielding both long and short swords, stepped forward, the sought-after amulet dangling from his belt. With a chilling demeanor, he pointed the long sword menacingly at Buffy's chest, issuing a chilling challenge. Prue managed to backhand a vampire in front of her, catching a fleeting glimpse of the unfolding confrontation as the scene played out in fast-paced snapshots.

Refusing to succumb to fear, Buffy deftly kicked the long sword from the vampire's grasp, sending it plunging into a concrete catching pool, where it disappeared with a splash. With the vamp's anger now amplified, he tightened his grip on Buffy's throat, thrusting the shorter blade toward her abdomen. But Buffy's reflexes were razor-sharp, and she skillfully dodged the deadly strike, seizing the vampire's wrist in an unwavering grip, determined not to surrender to her dire circumstances.

In the frenzied heat of the battle, Buffy, Prue, and Faith fought with every ounce of strength they could muster. Amidst the chaos, Faith's vision blurred with adrenaline, making it difficult to discern the individual faces of the monstrous foes surrounding her. Nevertheless, she unleashed a whirlwind of strikes, lashing out fiercely at any approaching threat. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest as the force of her blows tore through bone and flesh, leaving a trail of defeated enemies in her wake.

In the midst of the tumult, two hulking vampires moved with startling speed, overpowering Prue while she was momentarily preoccupied with fending off a third attacker. They ruthlessly slammed her against a wall, pinning her there, her wild eyes locked on Buffy and Faith, her desperate pleas for help seemingly drowned out by the cacophony of battle. Yet, even in her dire situation, Prue refused to succumb, fighting fiercely against her captors.

Buffy and Faith had managed to carve out a brief respite within the chaos, surrounded by four vampires recovering from their onslaught. The momentary pause granted them the opportunity to ready their weapons, a fiery ball forming in Buffy's hand, and Faith swiftly drawing out a stake. Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them as they readied themselves to eliminate at least one vampire each.

However, their plans shifted as Buffy caught sight of Prue's perilous situation. Her heart compelled her to act without hesitation. In an instant, she released the fireball, aiming it directly at the vampire holding Prue captive. The fireball found its mark, engulfing the vampire in flames, and reducing it to a cloud of ash.

Amid the chaos, a cunning vampire seized the opportunity to attack Buffy from behind, ensnaring her in a painful hold with both arms restrained. Faith and Prue desperately called out, but before they could reach her, more adversaries descended upon them, forcing them to fight back with all their might.

Faith's determination surged as she headbutted a vampire, creating a momentary opening for them to assess Buffy's situation. A second vampire, wielding both long and short swords, approached Buffy with the amulet they had been seeking, its presence adding urgency to the already intense conflict. The vampire directed the long sword towards Buffy's chest, a taunting challenge issued in his grim voice, "Let's settle this honorably."

Prue, amidst her own skirmish, caught fleeting glimpses of Buffy's perilous standoff. With a powerful backhand, she dispatched her opponent but remained attuned to Buffy's life-and-death struggle.

Buffy, refusing to yield to fear, expertly disarmed the vampire's long sword, sending it plunging into a nearby catching pool. Yet, her triumph was short-lived, as the enraged vampire clutched her throat and thrust the shorter blade menacingly towards her abdomen. Buffy's agility saved her, narrowly evading the attack, and gripping onto the vampire's wrist with unyielding determination.

The air crackled with tension as the vampire's snarl filled the space, his vicious intent clear. With a malevolent force, he propelled Buffy over the edge of the catching pool, determined to drown her in the unforgiving water. Panic surged through Buffy as she fought desperately against the vampire's unyielding grip, her lungs burning for air as she struggled to break free. The weight of the water pressed down on her, threatening to snuff out her life.

Prue and Faith, hearts pounding in their chests, watched in horror as Buffy's life hung in the balance. Amidst the chaos of their own battles, their screams of her name pierced the tumultuous atmosphere. Buffy's resistance waned, her movements slowing, until she lay still and motionless. The vampire, believing his cruel task complete, turned away, leaving Buffy seemingly lifeless beside the pool.

In the face of such tragedy, Prue's rage ignited like a tempest. She unleashed a devastating kick, shattering bone as her emotions fueled her fury. Swiftly pivoting, she launched into a lunge, unleashing a palm strike that fractured the vampire's nose. Her desperate mind racing, Prue's focus shifted to reaching the pool, a shared determination with Faith to rescue their fallen comrade.

Yet, just as hope seemed to waver, a miraculous sight unfolded before them. Buffy's seemingly lifeless form twitched, her hand reaching out and clenching the hilt of the vampire's long sword. In a breathtaking surge of strength and defiance, Buffy emerged from the water, the blade already in motion, ready to sever the head of the vampire holding the amulet.

The vampire narrowly dodged the fatal strike, and Buffy's nonchalance in the face of her near-death experience caught them off guard. "I hate when they drown me," she noted with almost casual detachment.

Prue's relief was palpable, and she sternly admonished, "Don't worry me like that again, Buffy."

"Promise, Prue," Buffy responded, her resolve unwavering as she deftly parried the vampire's attempt to attack her with the short sword. The tension between life and death hung in the balance, and the intense combat raged on around them.

With a burst of strength, Faith shook off an assailant who had pinned her to a wall. She retaliated with swift, powerful strikes, sending the vampire tumbling into a nearby tunnel. The odds, however, were overwhelming. More adversaries seemed to multiply before their eyes, an unending horde that pushed them to their limits.

The urgency in Faith's voice cut through the chaos like a knife. "B! P!" she snapped, her eyes burning with determination. "We've got to go!"

Prue, her own emotions running high, concurred with Faith's assessment. "Faith's right, Buffy," she asserted, her voice unwavering despite the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "We need to flame out."

Buffy's resolve was unyielding, her eyes fixed on the coveted amulet clutched by the vampire before her. "We came for the amulet," she declared, her voice resolute as she thrust out the sword, deftly plucking the amulet from the vampire's belt. "We're not leaving without it."

With the tables turned against them, the vampire recognized that the tide had shifted. Fear etched across its face, it decided to retreat, eager to join its fleeing companions. A sudden realization swept over the trio—Prue, Buffy, and Faith—triumphant, they had managed to overcome the seemingly insurmountable odds stacked against them.

Faith's heart still raced from the exhilarating battle as she strode to Buffy's side, a triumphant grin lighting up her face. "Tell me you don't get off on this," she quipped, reveling in the thrill of their shared victory.

Prue rolled her eyes in response to Faith's audacious remark.

Buffy held the amulet in her hand, examining it with a mixture of relief and pride. A tiny half-smile graced her lips, her heart swelling with gratitude for her comrades' steadfast support. "Didn't suck," she mused, her words tinged with a playful tease as she clasped Faith and Prue's hands tightly. They vanished in a swirl of fiery flames.

February 12, 1999 – Friday

Gateway High School

The morning light filtered through the library windows, casting a weary glow upon Buffy's face as she reported to Giles and reluctantly to Wesley. Fatigue weighed heavily on her shoulders, but amidst it all, an unusual sensation swept over her—a sense of newfound strength and resilience, as if the trials of the previous night had somehow invigorated her spirit.

Intrigued by the amulet they had obtained, Wesley carefully turned it over in his hands, his eyes fixated on its intricate details. He examined it so intently that Buffy half-jokingly wondered if he might actually kiss it. "Well, looks authentic enough," he declared, setting the amulet down with a hint of satisfaction. "Of course, there are tests to be made before actual verification."

Buffy's frustration simmered beneath the surface. She was more concerned about the dangerous encounter they had faced with the cult, and she didn't hesitate to voice her discontent. "How about verifying that your 'nearly extinct' cult was out in magnum force last night?" she quipped. "Faith, Prue, and I got into a serious party situation."

Giles, always attentive to his Slayer's well-being, appeared in the doorway of his inner office, his worry evident. "Are you and Prue all right?" he inquired with genuine concern.

Her fatigue momentarily forgotten, Buffy mustered a lighthearted response. "I had to lather, rinse, and repeat about five million times to get the sewer out of my hair, but otherwise, I'm of the good. And Prue's good, nothing a Charmed One couldn't handle," she assured, acknowledging Giles' caring nature with a silent gratitude. She then directed a pointed look at Wesley.

However, Wesley's focus remained unyielding. He ignored Buffy's implied criticism and proceeded with his usual penchant for order and discipline. "Perhaps there were a few more than we'd anticipated, but I'd expect you to be ready for anything," he chided. "Remember the three key words for any Slayer. Preparation. Preparation. Preparation."

Buffy couldn't help but challenge his rigid mindset. "That's one word three times," she pointed out, her irritation becoming more evident.

As the school bell rang, Buffy knew she had a chem test to attend to. "I have a chem test," she said. "It's so sad that I'm actually happy about that." But before she left, she addressed Giles, the man who had been a constant pillar of support and guidance. "Giles, we need to talk."

Wesley's reaction was less than pleased, and he asserted his authority as her new Watcher, attempting to curtail any discussions between Buffy and Giles about slaying matters. "Buffy, I must ask you to remember that I am your Watcher," Wesley declared. "From now on, anything you have to say about slaying, you will say to me. The only thing you need discuss with Mr. Giles is overdue book fees. Understood?"

Buffy instantly disappeared in a swirl of fiery flames, transporting her to a confrontation with Wesley, their faces mere inches apart. Her eyes blazed with an intensity fueled by her loyalty and protectiveness over Giles, whom she regarded as family.

"I don't care who you are," Buffy asserted, her voice carrying the weight of her emotions. "The only reason you're here is for your resources with the Watcher's Council. The Charmed Ones don't want to burn an ally by turning our backs on Giles. If we want to use that resource, it is our call, not yours or the Watcher's Council. You got me? If you don't, you can pack your bags."

Wesley, taken aback by the force of Buffy's conviction, could do nothing but nod in acknowledgement. Her unyielding determination spoke volumes about the strength of her bond with Giles and her family.

Turning to Giles, Buffy's face softened with affection. "We'll talk," she assured, a glimmer of hope lighting up her eyes.

Giles beamed with pride, touched by Buffy's unwavering loyalty and her willingness to stand up for their friendship against the Watcher's Council.

But as time was slipping away, Buffy had to leave. Eavesdropping on the conversation between Wesley and Giles, her heart clenched with mixed emotions.

"You're not helping," Wesley admonished Giles sternly, a hint of frustration in his voice.

Giles smirked. "I know," he mused sarcastically. "I feel just sick about it. But you know I did warn you. Buffy's loyalties do not lie with the Watcher's Council but with her cousins, the Charmed Ones, who she sees as her sisters, and who see her the same. She will work with you, but she won't work for you. You really need to take that into consideration in your dealings with her."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

As she sat in the chem lab, waiting for the test to start, Buffy's annoyance with Wesley had faded into the background. Her mind was consumed by the events of the previous night—the adrenaline-fueled fight with the sword-wielding vampires that left her feeling exhilarated and alive. Willow and Xander, her steadfast friends, sat behind her, but her seat was turned as she earnestly attempted to convey the intensity of the experience.

"It was intense," Buffy tried to articulate to Willow, her voice tinged with emotion. "It was like I just let go and I became this force. I just didn't care anymore."

Willow, understanding the depths of Buffy's emotions, empathized with her friend's sentiments. "Yeah, I know what that's like," she replied, sharing a moment of connection.

But Buffy felt a sense of isolation in her experience, as if only she, as the Charmed Slayer, could fully grasp the magnitude of the moment. "I don't think you can," she gently expressed to Willow. "It's kind of a Slayer thing. I don't even think I'm explaining it well."

Xander, ever the supportive presence, chimed in with a light-hearted comment. "You're explaining it a lot, though," he remarked, offering a reassuring smile.

Their teacher, Mrs. Taggart, slipped the test booklets in front of them, signaling the beginning of the test. As she walked to the front of the class, she reminded the students to maintain silence during the exam. Buffy's attention wavered for a moment, but she quickly refocused on her friends.

"The thing was, Faith knew that I didn't even want to go down there—" Buffy started to say, continuing her attempt to convey the emotions that surged through her during the fierce battle.

However, the teacher's interruption pulled her back to reality. "Miss Halliwell?" Mrs. Taggart's voice called her out.

Buffy's lips formed a lock-it-and-throw-away-the-key gesture in response to Mrs. Taggart's reminder about the chemistry test. Mrs. Taggart acknowledged her silent request and announced the time limit for the exam. As the teacher stepped out of the room, closing the door behind her, Buffy's attention immediately returned to her eager recounting of the thrilling night before.

Excitement filled her voice as she turned back to Willow, eager to share the best parts of their recent encounter. But Willow's gentle interruption reminded Buffy of the task at hand—the test she hadn't come to study for. Her enthusiasm momentarily dampened, Buffy offered an apologetic look to her friend. "Right, got it. Sorry," she replied, attempting to reign in her excitement and focus on the exam.

Undeterred, Buffy turned her attention to Xander, seeking to continue her exhilarating tale. She leaned in closer, ready to share the next thrilling detail. However, Xander, immersed in his multiple-choice test, halted her with a plea for concentration. "Hey, whoa!" he interjected. "Can we resume Buffy's ode to Faith later? Like when I'm not actively multiple-choicing?"

Buffy, momentarily taken aback, observed the telltale twitch in Xander's eye every time Faith's name was mentioned. Her curiosity piqued, she couldn't resist teasing him further. "How come your eye twitches every time I say Faith's name?" she inquired playfully, a small smile dancing on her lips.

In response, Xander attempted to deny any connection between the two, but his eye betrayed him once again. "What? No it doesn't," he protested, attempting to conceal his reaction.

Ever persistent, Buffy leaned even closer, focusing intently on him. "Faith," she uttered her name with an amused glint in her eyes, watching for any telltale sign.

Xander's reaction to Buffy's playful teasing was tangible, his eye twitching, and he hastily covered it with a hand. "Cut it out," he implored, his voice laced with exasperation. "We've got a test to take, and I'm highly caffeinated, and I'm trying to concentrate. Some of us actually care about school, you know."

Though Xander's words attempted to steer her focus back to the exam, Buffy couldn't help but feel restless. The desire to be anywhere but in the classroom weighed heavily on her mind. She cast a glance around the room, observing her classmates diligently working on their booklets while she struggled to find motivation.

Then, like a beacon of escape, Faith appeared at the window, grinning mischievously as she peered inside. Buffy's heart stirred with a mix of emotions at the sight of her fellow Slayer. Faith had a way of drawing her in, even when she least expected it.

Faith playfully breathed on the window, drawing a tiny heart with an arrow through it, a love symbol that held different significance for them. For most, it conveyed affection, but for them, it spoke of their shared connection through slaying. Lately, the emotions that surged within Buffy during their battles felt different, deeper somehow, and she pondered the significance of that shift.

Against the concerned voices of her friends, Buffy couldn't resist the call of the outside world. She climbed out through the window, Faith closing it behind her. The sunlight bathed them in its warm embrace as they strode across the high school grounds, a sense of freedom washing over Buffy. She felt lighter, better than she had all morning.

Curiosity sparked within her, and she asked Faith, "What's up?"

Faith responded with a casual nod, her demeanor betraying her eagerness. "Vampires."

Buffy's smile widened, excitement building within her at the prospect of a new slaying opportunity. "Uh, Faith, unless there's a total eclipse in the next five minutes? It's daylight."

Faith's confidence remained unwavering, her plan already unfolding. "Good for us, bad for them. I found a nest."

Buffy's enthusiasm surged, the promise of a challenging battle lifting her spirits even further. "That has potential," she remarked.

Abandoned Warehouse

After a brisk fifteen-minute walk, they arrived at the abandoned building Faith had pinpointed as the vampires' lair—a squat where they took refuge during daylight hours. The structure appeared desolate and forbidding, with its boarded-up and painted-over windows, as if hiding the sinister secrets within.

With synchronized determination, they kicked down the double doors, their entry punctuated by a resounding crash. The scorching rays of the sun streamed in behind them, filling the dim space with a mix of sweet light and ruthless heat. A disturbing scene unfolded before their eyes—the vampires sprawled on the floor like discarded trash, slumbering like addicts in a rundown crack house. As the sunlight penetrated the dark recesses, two of the vampires caught fire, their agonizing screams piercing the air.

The sudden blaze jolted the others awake, their instinct for self-preservation overriding their thirst for blood. Panic surged through the room like wildfire, and the vampires scrambled and ran, fleeing from the wrath of the sun.

Faith's voice rang out, her tone laced with bravado and humor. "Rise and shine, people," she declared, reveling in the exhilarating thrill of the chase.

Buffy observed their desperate flight with a gleeful grin, her own excitement building. "This is your wake-up call," she playfully taunted, her adrenaline surging as she prepared to give chase. The confrontation with the vampires brought a mixture of emotions—fear, exhilaration, and a sense of purpose—to the surface.

Payson's

As night blanketed the world outside, Piper stood behind the bar, her gaze fixed on Buffy and Faith as they danced with unrestrained energy. The pulsating music reverberated through the club, matching the wild rhythm of Faith's hips as she moved and swayed with uninhibited abandon. In comparison, Buffy's dancing exhibited a sense of control, but with an underlying yearning to break free, to release her primal essence and surrender to the intoxicating allure of the music.

Together, they formed a captivating duo, drawing attention like a magnet, the guys in the club flocking around them like bees to honey. Yet, amidst the swarm of admirers, Buffy and Faith remained focused solely on each other. Their celebration was an intimate affair, a private acknowledgment of the vampire nest they had successfully eradicated earlier that day.

Phoebe joined Piper at the bar, her curiosity piqued by her sister's unwavering gaze. "What are you staring at?" she inquired, settling onto a stool.

"Our sister," Piper replied, her eyes still fixed on Buffy, concern etched on her face. "Did Prue tell you that she got a call from Gateway and that Buffy had skipped out in the middle of her chem test?"

Phoebe's surprise was evident. "No," she answered. "Of course, unless you've forgotten, Prue and I aren't exactly on speaking terms right now."

Piper raised an eyebrow, her voice laced with subtle reproach. "Still?" she questioned, her gaze shifting toward Phoebe. "How long is she going to let this Cole thing stew? It's not like she can claim the high ground when she and Buffy did the same after Angel's return."

Phoebe sighed, her expression reflecting a mixture of understanding and frustration. "I know," she admitted, her voice tinged with resignation. "But she is."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy's gaze locked with Angel's stern expression. With a pang of longing, she discreetly broke away from Faith and the guys and hurried to his side. Emotions welled up within her as she leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs around him in a fervent embrace. "Hey. You're not leaving, are you?" she pleaded, desperation seeping into her voice.

Angel's somber response heightened her unease. "Saw you making friends," he stated, his tone hinting at underlying concern.

The heat of anger rose within Buffy, feeling possessive and defensive over her connection with Angel. "Them?" she questioned, a mixture of frustration and jealousy swirling in her heart. "Boys. I like you."

Gently, Angel lowered her back to her feet, their eyes locked in an intense exchange. She searched his face, trying to discern his thoughts. "What's the matter? You're not afraid of little me, are you?" she teased, but her vulnerability peeked through the facade.

Realizing that they needed a more private space to talk, Angel led her behind him, guiding her to a secluded sofa in the back of the club. The moment they sat down, Buffy's concern deepened, sensing that Angel's visit was more than a casual one. "I can sense this is a business trip," she sighed, glancing over at Piper, who approached them.

"What's the what?" Buffy inquired, her voice tinged with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.

Angel revealed the reason for his visit with a sense of gravity. "Balthazar," he disclosed, and Piper joined them, the weight of the impending challenge hanging in the air.

Buffy held onto Angel tightly, her arms wrapped around him in a protective embrace. "Dead demon," she murmured, seeking solace in his presence.

His response was tinged with a hint of uncertainty, "Not as dead as you think." With a heavy sigh, he stood up and moved to another couch, distancing himself slightly from Buffy. Their emotions were entangled, the weight of their shared battles taking a toll on their hearts. "Word on the street puts him in the packing warehouse on Devereau. He's looking for—"

"Word on the street puts him in the packing warehouse on Devereau," he disclosed, his voice filled with a mix of determination and concern. "He's looking for—"

His words were interrupted by Buffy, who completed his sentence with a sense of urgency. "His amulet," she stated, her eyes locking with Piper's as they sat together.

"It's supposed to restore his strength," Piper added, her expression mirroring the gravity of the situation.

Angel's face darkened, the burden of knowledge weighing heavily on him. "From what I'm hearing, that's not something we'd like to see happen," he remarked, the weight of their shared mission visible in his eyes.

Piper's smile held a hint of pride. "Well, Buffy got the amulet last night," she revealed.

"I know," Angel responded, his tone tinged with regret. "I spoke to Giles, but he said Buffy gave it to—"

Before he could finish his sentence, Wesley's arrival disrupted the moment. "Ah, there you are!" Wesley's voice echoed through the room.

Buffy couldn't help but tease him, her playful spirit shining through. "Wow, speak of the really annoying person," she exclaimed with a hint of humor.

Piper's disapproval was evident, her head shaking slightly as she addressed Buffy's remark. "Buffy," she spoke with a soft reproach.

Unyielding, Buffy stood her ground, her emotions a mix of defiance and hurt. "Well, he is," she defended herself, her determination unmistakable.

Wesley, feeling somewhat out of place in the lively surroundings of Payson's, acknowledged Buffy's tenacity with a hint of amusement. "You're certainly giving me a run for my money," he replied, glancing around the establishment in distaste. Drawing closer to Buffy and Piper, he lowered his voice to a whisper, wanting to maintain some semblance of privacy amidst the social chaos. "I think we should establish that if you're going to go out slaying, you leave me a number where I can contact you."

Piper, protective of Buffy and fiercely loyal, jumped in with narrowed eyes. "You will get her cell phone number when you prove to be resourceful," she asserted, her tone unwavering.

Surprised by Piper's assertiveness, Wesley turned his attention to her. "And you are?" he inquired, his curiosity piqued.

Unyielding, Piper introduced herself with a touch of authority, not backing down. "Piper Halliwell, one of Buffy's legal guardians and a Charmed One," she stated, highlighting her commitment to protecting Buffy.

Angel, ever direct, interjected with a sense of urgency. "Where's the amulet?" he demanded, his focus on the task at hand.

Caught off guard again, Wesley turned to Angel with uncertainty. "And who are you?" he inquired, grappling with the unfolding dynamic between him, Buffy, and Piper.

As the tension filled the air, Buffy's emotions were palpable, her heart racing with urgency and determination. "A friend," she declared firmly. Her concern for the amulet's safety was evident in her eyes as she asked, "Do you have it?"

Wesley responded with an air of self-importance, his tone masking a hidden vulnerability. "It's somewhere very safe," he stated, attempting to maintain control of the situation.

Buffy's frown deepened as she observed him closely, her intuition telling her something was amiss. Rolling her eyes, she couldn't resist her instincts, deciding to take matters into her own hands. In a bold move, she reached inside his jacket and retrieved the amulet from the inner pocket.

"How did you know?" Wesley stammered, his surprise evident in his expression.

With a touch of lightheartedness, Buffy replied, "Pooches your jacket," revealing her keen observational skills and knack for finding what she sought.

Without hesitation, she tossed the amulet to Angel, her trust in him unwavering. Meanwhile, Wesley's shock turned into a protest. "Now, hang on a minute," he protested, trying to regain control of the situation.

Angel stepped in, his voice firm yet tinged with concern. "Walking around with this thing is like wearing a target," he warned Wesley, emphasizing the danger that carrying the amulet posed.

Piper, aligned with Angel's warning, nodded in agreement, her emotions mirroring Buffy's. "He's right. A demon would go straight for you," she cautioned Wesley, a protective instinct rising within her.

Amidst the charged atmosphere, emotions crackled like electricity. Buffy's concern for the amulet's safety was palpable as she asked, her voice laced with urgency and a hint of vulnerability, "You'll put it somewhere safe that's actually safe?"

Without hesitation, Angel rose from the couch, his determination evident. "I'll do it now," he affirmed, his eyes locking with Buffy's in a shared understanding.

Buffy, too, stood up, her gaze shifting towards Piper. "I'll do some recon on Balthazar, and no, not Belthazor," she said, her frustration with demons' lack of originality evident. "Piper, why don't you head back to the Manor? I saw you talking to Phoebe; if she's still here, get her to help you look through the books for Balthazar. See what it takes to vanquish him," she instructed.

Wesley's agitation and insistence on Balthazar's demise brought out a defiant side of Buffy, her emotions colliding with his skepticism. "If I may, Balthazar is dead. Am I the only one who remembers that?" he protested, appearing like a petulant child about to throw a tantrum.

Angel's cautionary words carried a mix of love and worry, his concern for Buffy's safety evident in his every gesture. He leaned in for a quick kiss, their bond strengthened by the shared understanding of their perilous lives. "Be careful," he warned her, unable to hide the depth of his feelings.

A flash of sass and confidence crossed Buffy's face. "You know me," she replied, her voice tinged with humor, though her eyes reflected a deeper understanding of the risks she faced.

Angel headed for the door, Buffy walked back out on the dance floor and Piper walked back toward the bar and Phoebe, leaving Wesley to glance around in utter confusion. On the floor, Faith was grinding provocatively with a pair of cute guys. As Buffy passed by, she grabbed Faith by the hand and pulled her away.

Faith's playful voice lingered in the air as she reluctantly disengaged from her admirers, promising to reconnect with a mischievous invitation. "Call me!" she called out, her words carrying a sense of excitement and anticipation.

Piper came to a halt beside Phoebe. Leaning closer, she whispered with a sense of urgency, the weight of their shared responsibility coloring her voice. "We're on demon duty," she confided. "A demon with a similar name to Cole called Balthazar."

Devereau Street

In the dimly lit warehouse, the atmosphere was thick with a sense of impending darkness. Balthazar, the malevolent demon, resided in a chilling spectacle, sitting in a grotesque bathing tank surrounded by vampire slaves, their actions serving to moisten his sickly pale skin. Though confined by his massive weight, the demon exuded a malevolent aura, fueling his belief in his magnificence and power. Enraged, his form quivered with fury as he faced the Eliminati swordsmen before him.

With a raspy voice, Balthazar taunted his trembling adversaries, the satisfaction evident in his sinister snarls. "Let me tell you what I see," he sneered, his voice laced with contempt. "I see fear. And remorse. And the pitiful look of faces that cry out for mercy. What I don't see is what I want to see, and that's my amulet!"

One of the Eliminati, paralyzed by fear, stammered a response, his voice laced with terror. "Lord Balthazar, we found it. We had it! But one of the Charmed Ones and the Slayers—"

The demon's impatience flared, cutting off the words with a sharp retort. "Already I'm bored," he snapped, his disdain evident in every syllable.

With a flicker of raw power, Balthazar unleashed his mystical abilities, manipulating the very fabric of reality to exert his dominance. Though his enormous form hindered his physical mobility, he compensated with his terrifying command over the unseen forces. A vampire, torn from the ground, hurtled towards him, meeting a brutal demise as the demon's hands closed around its skull with a satisfying crackle.

With a chilling aura of malevolence, Balthazar turned his attention to Vincent, the commander of the remaining Eliminati. "Vincent, come here," he beckoned, his voice a chilling command.

Vincent hesitated, visibly afraid, but he moved closer, unable to resist the dark magnetism of the demon's summons. Balthazar urged him closer still, his voice dripping with cruel anticipation as Vincent leaned over the vile bathing tank.

The demon placed a bony hand on Vincent's shoulder, his voice a sinister whisper that sent shivers down the spines of those present. "Let me tell you what I want to see," he hissed, the malevolence in his gaze leaving no doubt about the fate that awaited any who dared defy him.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Outside the grim warehouse, the night held its breath as Buffy and Faith peered through a shattered window, their eyes fixed on the nightmarish scene unfolding before them. The sinister aura emanating from Balthazar and his vampire slaves sent a shiver down their spines, while the oppressive weight of their mission bore down on their hearts.

Buffy's voice carried a mix of determination and trepidation as she assessed the situation with her companion. "Okay, we got ten, maybe twelve bad guys," she whispered quietly. Her eyes locked onto the formidable demon, his grotesque appearance contrasting sharply with the humanity within her that still craved a life of normalcy.

Faith's fiery spirit urged them to act boldly and swiftly. Buffy recognized the allure of Faith's approach, realizing how much she had changed under her influence. "I say we take 'em all, hard and fast, now!" Faith declared, her eyes burning with intensity.

The weight of responsibility pressed upon Buffy's shoulders, and she knew they needed more than her fireballs to face the formidable foes. A profound determination filled her voice as she reasoned with Faith, "We need a little more firepower than just my fireballs. We should head back to the library."

Acknowledging the reality of the situation, Faith reluctantly agreed, her gaze scanning the surrounding buildings for any advantage. "Well, I guess Jacuzzi Boy isn't going anywhere," she conceded. "I just wish we had…" A sudden realization sparked in her eyes as she spotted the nearby Meyer Sports & Tackle store. "Oh, that is too good."

As they approached Meyer Sports & Tackle, Buffy felt the gravity of their decision. Time was of the essence, and lives hung in the balance. The conflict within her was palpable, knowing that her choice could have far-reaching consequences. Prue's disapproval weighed heavily on her mind, but so did the urgency to protect the innocent from Balthazar's malevolent plans.

Whispers of doubt and resolve mingled in her mind as Buffy whispered, "Prue is going to kill me."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

With fierce determination, Faith forcefully kicked open the door of the sporting goods store, the sound reverberating through her veins. Nervously biting her lip, Buffy cautiously trailed behind, apprehension etching lines of worry on her face. Their hearts pounding, they strode purposefully into the store, their eyes scanning the surroundings for weapons.

As Faith's gaze swept over the store, her excitement ignited like a spark in a powder keg. A gleam of anticipation danced in her eyes, fueling her adrenaline-fueled frenzy. Unable to contain herself, she unleashed her fervor with a swift, forceful elbow, shattering a glass case, and liberating an exquisite, high-end crossbow from its captive confines.

Tentatively, Buffy voiced her concern, her voice laced with anxiety, "Think they're insured?"

Faith's lips curled into a self-assured smirk, her confidence radiating like a beacon. "Strangely, not my priority," she retorted. Locking eyes with Buffy, she conveyed the essence of a simple truth. "When are you going to get this, B? The life of a Slayer is very simple. Want..." Faith strode towards another glass case, brimming with an array of lethal weaponry, her hand transforming into a fierce fist that shattered the barrier. "...Take…" With a triumphant flourish, she produced a pair of nunchuks, firmly grasping her spoils. "Have."

Buffy stood there, transfixed by Faith's audacious display, a mixture of awe and begrudging admiration intertwining within her. She turned her gaze and discovered another case, housing an impressive collection of hunting and throwing knives. In a hushed voice, she repeated Faith's mantra, her words saturated with newfound resolve. "Want, take, have." With a determined hand extended, she commanded, "Knife!" In a swirl of fiery flames, a menacing, dangerous-looking blade materialized in her hand. "I'm getting it," she declared, determination emanating from her core.

Unleashing her own torrent of force, Faith delivered a powerful kick, obliterating yet another glass case. Her brawny arms grasped a formidable compound bow, towering above her with arrows poised to strike.

A sudden explosion of sound reverberated through the air as a gun discharged, shattering the tense silence that enveloped the store. Startled, Faith and Buffy found themselves confronted by two uniformed policemen, their authoritative presence amplified by the weapons aimed squarely at them.

The older of the two officers, his face etched with a stern determination, issued a command that pierced the charged atmosphere. His grip on the gun betrayed a hint of uncertainty, mirrored by his partner's wavering hold on his own weapon. "Drop the weapons and get down on the ground! Now!" he barked, each word laden with urgency. Stepping forward, his gun locked firmly in both hands, he closed the distance between them.

With a flick of her wrist, Buffy reluctantly relinquished the stolen knife, watching as it clattered to the floor with a heavy thud. Faith, on the other hand, rolled her eyes in a display of nonchalant defiance, begrudgingly discarding the imposing compound bow she had previously wielded.

"Now, spread 'em!" the officer commanded, his voice brooking no dissent.

"You wish," Faith sneered, her defiance reverberating in her retort.

The officer twitched, a mix of frustration and escalating tension coloring his features. "Hands in the air where I can see them," he instructed, his words laced with caution. "Slow," he added, his unease evident as Faith moved with a speed that unsettled his comfort level. Glancing at his partner, a glimmer of relief washed over his face. "Good. Cuff them."

As the younger officer produced a pair of handcuffs, circling around to the rear, Faith cast a mischievous glance at Buffy, a trace of amusement dancing in her eyes. "I like him," she whispered, her voice tinged with playful admiration. "He's butch."

Buffy, however, failed to find any humor in the situation. Overwhelmed by the weight of impending consequences, she muttered to herself, her voice barely audible amidst the chaos. "Prue is going to kill me."

Streets of San Francisco

As the police patrol car rolled through the illuminated streets of San Francisco, the cold, unforgiving metal of the handcuffs gripped their wrists, serving as a stark reminder of their predicament. Confined in the caged rear compartment, their freedom had been stripped away, and a cloud of uncertainty loomed over their future.

The city lights flashed across the darkened windshield, casting flickering shadows within the vehicle. The policeman glanced at the rearview mirror, meeting the gazes of Faith and Buffy. His voice carried a mixture of intrigue and suspicion as he probed, trying to make sense of the situation. "That's some artillery you two were putting together. You with one of them girl gangs?"

A touch of weariness seeped into Faith's reply, her tone tinged with sarcasm. "Yeah, we're the Slayers," she responded, her words hinting at a burden far beyond ordinary comprehension.

Contemplating their dwindling options, Faith turned to Buffy. Her voice took on a subtle edge, urging action. "You want to get out of here?" she asked, her resolve evident in her posture as she subtly positioned herself to unleash their plan.

Buffy's expression betrayed a mix of doubt and concern, wary of the risks involved. Her mind weighed the consequences against the greater purpose they served. "Can't save the world in jail," Faith reminded her, a resolute conviction underscoring her words.

Reluctantly, Buffy surrendered to the urgency of the situation. She lowered herself beside Faith, their shared purpose merging into a silent understanding. Time seemed to slow as Faith silently counted to three, and in a synchronized move, their legs shot forward, striking the metal mesh that separated them from the front of the car. The impact was sudden and forceful, sending the barrier snapping off its supports, propelling the two unsuspecting officers forward with a resounding crash.

The impact was a symphony of chaos and pain as both policemen collided with the unyielding windshield, their heads connecting with a sickening thud. The patrol car veered wildly, tires screeching in protest as the driver struggled to regain control. A collision was inevitable, and they crashed into a parked car at the edge of Buena Vista Park. The deafening cacophony of the accident stirred the slumbering neighborhood, and dogs added their panicked barks to the chaotic mix, amplifying the sense of urgency.

Disentangling themselves from the wrecked police vehicle, Faith clutched the precious handcuff keys, their metallic touch a lifeline to freedom. The girls stood back to back, a unified front, as Faith deftly maneuvered to unlock the cuffs binding their hands.

Buffy's concern for the injured officers was palpable as she implored, "Hurry up so I can see about healing them," her eyes filled with compassion.

Faith's retort, though tinged with annoyance, held a touch of relief. "Five people have already called an ambulance, thanks to the ruckus we made," she scolded gently, reassuring Buffy with her knowledge that help was on the way. "And they're fine," she added, a glimmer of confidence in her voice.

As if scripted, the once-unconscious officers began to stir, their groans punctuating the tense air. Faith skillfully unlocked their handcuffs. "Come on, let's get out of here," she urged, a sense of urgency propelling her forward.

Buffy hesitated for a moment, torn between her instincts to aid the officers and her loyalty to Faith. Yet, with a lingering glance at the dazed cops, she made her decision.

February 13, 1999 – Saturday

Halliwell Manor

The next morning, Buffy still had a sick feeling in her gut. When she stepped outside it was too bright, too sunny, almost as if the day were mocking the dark cloud that lingered over her from the night before. She grabbed the newspaper off the stoop and brought it back inside. At the kitchen table she opened it and leafed through the pages, searching for information about the cops from the night before, and hoping they had not come up with any way to identify her and Faith as the culprits.

Prue stepped into the kitchen in a rumpled robe, looking like she was still half asleep. "Admit it," she said grumpily.

Buffy blinked, guilt surging through her, and turned to her eldest cousin.

"Some days don't you want to just wake up and say to hell with the diet?" Prue went on. "Want to make waffles? Big Saturday brunch?"

"I'm not really that hungry," Buffy replied, and turned the page, eyes still on the paper.

Prue crossed the kitchen and began to make a pot of coffee. "So what'd you and Faith find out last night?"

"We found him," Buffy said. She stared at the newspaper for a moment longer, then closed it. "Faith and I are going back tonight with weapons. Was there anything in the Books?"

"Piper and Phoebe didn't find anything," Prue answered. "So how about those waffles?"

Buffy shook her head. "No thanks, but I could help make them if you want them…"

"No," Prue said sadly. She reached for the paper. "You all done with this?"

Buffy nodded. "Yeah."

"Let's see what's happening in San Francisco," Prue said slowly.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

In the comfort of her bedroom, Buffy sat alongside her dear friend Willow. In her hands, she cradled a tiny sachet bag, its delicate aroma filling the air around her. Curiosity twinkled in her eyes as she raised the sachet to her nose, inhaling the fragrant concoction. A soft, appreciative sound escaped her lips, testament to the enchanting blend Willow had crafted.

Looking at Willow, Buffy's heart warmed at her friend's thoughtfulness. "Hmmm," she murmured, acknowledging the enchanting scent. "You like it?" Willow inquired, her voice carrying a hint of anticipation, eager to know if her spellwork had met Buffy's approval.

A small smile played on Buffy's lips as she replied, "Smells good. What is it?" Her curiosity piqued, she sought to uncover the secrets woven into the protective charm.

With a glimmer of pride in her eyes, Willow revealed the truth behind the sachet's magic. "Just a little something we witches like to call a protection spell," she announced, her voice tinged with enthusiasm.

Buffy's eyebrow arched slightly, surprise mingling with a touch of concern. "Protection spell? That's not something I, as either your Whitelighter or a fellow witch, taught you," she pointed out, her protective instincts surfacing.

Willow's smile held a touch of mischief, her eyes sparkling with determination. "Well, you're self-taught, just like me," she reminded Buffy. "Even you, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe create your own spells and potions. That's all I'm doing here," she explained, reaffirming the essence of their shared craft.

Buffy cradled the sachet in her hands, the subtle fragrance lingering in the air like a gentle caress. A conflicted mix of emotions played across her face as she spoke. "As your Whitelighter, I have to say I approve," she expressed, her approval blending with genuine surprise. Sniffing at the bag again, she hesitated before continuing, "I'm surprised, though, 'cause usually spell stuff's more—"

"Stinky," Willow interjected, her voice holding a touch of amusement as she completed Buffy's thought. She nodded, her gaze softening with affection. "That's why I added the lavender. Give me time, and I may be the first witch to do all my conjuring in Pine Fresh scent," she teased, her playful spirit shining through.

Buffy's expression softened, her friend's ingenuity warming her heart. "We'll see if it works," she said, a hint of uncertainty shadowing her words as she recalled past attempts that hadn't gone as planned. "Your scapula didn't, remember."

Curiosity sparked in Willow's eyes as she sought the next step in their shared journey. "So what's the plan?" she inquired. "For tonight's slayage. We're going, aren't we?"

The weight of responsibility settled upon Buffy's shoulders, and she frowned, her uncertainty surfacing. She glanced at Willow, her eyes reflecting a mix of reluctance and determination. "Oh. Yeah," she replied reluctantly.

"Great!" Willow's voice chimed with enthusiasm, the anticipation of joining Buffy on patrol evident in her words.

However, a trace of apprehension tainted Buffy's response, her voice laced with a delicate "but." The weight of her words hung in the air, carried by a mix of concern and consideration. "But... you shouldn't come tonight. Is that cool?" she cautiously proposed, bracing herself for the impact of her request.

An instant flicker of sadness shimmered in Willow's eyes, the depth of her disappointment momentarily visible. Yet, with admirable strength, she shielded her emotions from spilling into her voice. "Sure," she replied, her tone carefully composed, masking the turmoil within. "Makes sense. You'll be facing big, hairy danger."

Buffy seized the opportunity to emphasize the gravity of the situation, hoping to dissuade her friend gently. "Biggest," she interjected swiftly, her words carrying a hint of urgency. "And very hairy."

The silence hung between them, charged with unspoken sentiments. Willow's gaze, laden with understanding, met Buffy's, her eyes holding a mixture of concern, loyalty, and a hint of sadness. "You're risking your life," she voiced softly, her voice tinged with quiet determination.

With equal resolve, Buffy countered, determined to protect her friend at all costs. "Right, and why risk yours?" she reasoned, a plea for Willow's safety woven into her words.

Willow's response was simple yet profound, carrying the weight of friendship and duty. Her eyes, steady and unwavering, fixed on Buffy. "Because I'm your friend, a fellow witch, and your charge," she declared, each word an unwavering testament to their bond.

"I know, Will," Buffy began, her voice tinged with a mix of concern and love. "And that's exactly why I don't want you going. It's too dangerous. You're still learning to control your powers," she explained gently, her desire to protect Willow driving her words.

A hint of frustration creased Willow's brow, her emotions riding a turbulent wave. "But I've done this sort of thing before, like a million times, and I can totally handle myself. Besides..." She raised the sachet. "Minty fresh protection. So?" The hopeful look in her eyes pleaded her case, her unwavering determination to prove herself apparent.

Caught between her desire to keep her friend safe and Willow's unwavering confidence, Buffy hesitated. The internal struggle was evident in her expression as she grappled with the weight of her decision.

Before she could offer more reassurance or explanation, Faith unexpectedly intruded, her arrival abrupt and unannounced. Buffy's attention shifted to her, the sudden interruption adding another layer of complexity to the situation.

"Ready? Time to motor. Hey, Red," Faith announced, her presence adding an electric spark to the air.

"Hey," Willow replied with a half-hearted acknowledgment, her focus still tethered to her earlier conversation with Buffy.

Attempting to navigate the situation delicately, Buffy mustered a small smile, despite the heaviness in her heart. "Uh, look, I really should..." She trailed off, searching for the right words to express her feelings without overwhelming her friend. "But we'll hang out later, right?" she asked.

After a moment's hesitation, Buffy ventured out with Faith, leaving Willow to confront her emotions alone.

With a heavy heart, Willow clutched the sachet in her hand, her emotions swirling like a tempest within. Feeling a surge of frustration, she tossed the bag onto her bed, her whisper of "stupid" a self-directed expression of disappointment and hurt. In her vulnerability, she didn't notice Piper's arrival until she stepped into the doorway, a beacon of empathy and understanding.

"It's good you want to help, Willow," Piper spoke gently, her voice a soothing balm to Willow's wounded spirit.

Willow's eyes met Piper's, the sadness evident in her gaze as she questioned, "You heard?"

Piper nodded, her compassionate gaze unwavering. "Every word of it," she confirmed, her presence offering solace to the young witch. She motioned towards the discarded sachet. "May I?" she asked, her fingers reaching out to take the bag gently.

Willow handed it over, her vulnerability laid bare before Piper. "Aloe, huh?" Piper mused, her eyes thoughtful as she examined the contents. "I know of no spell or potion that requires Aloe. But that's okay, it means you're learning," she reassured her, her voice carrying the wisdom of experience. "And eventually, you may find the right ingredients for your protection spell or even a protection potion," she encouraged, her belief in Willow's potential evident in her words.

A glimmer of relief and gratitude shone in Willow's eyes as she received Piper's kind words. The sense of acceptance and understanding lifted some of the weight from her shoulders. "Speaking of which, are you ready for your next lesson?" Piper asked, offering the prospect of continued learning and growth.

A genuine smile spread across Willow's face, the warmth of Piper's support rejuvenating her spirit.

Streets of San Francisco

Faith and Buffy strode down a deserted alley in a very nasty section of town, on their way to the warehouse on Devereau that Balthazar had made his lair. They were armed to the teeth.

Faith had the compound bow in her hands, and fiddled with it as they walked.

Buffy's expression was grim, and she had been unusually silent.

"You're quiet tonight," Faith told her.

Buffy shrugged. "I just want to get this done."

"Yeah, I'm dying to test out the long bow," Faith said excitedly, gazing lovingly at the weapon she had not been willing to give up. "I think it might be my new thing."

"I can't believe you went back for that stuff," Buffy said, raising her eyebrows in amazement.

Faith ignored her. As she thought about using the bow on the demon and his lackeys, her stomach rumbled. "Hey, how do you feel about getting some ribs? You know, after we're done?" she asked.

Buffy opened her mouth to respond… and a vampire dropped down from a low roof in the alley to block their way. A second rushed them from behind. With a high kick, Buffy sent the one behind her reeling.

The second rushed in at her as Faith struggled to nock an arrow onto the compound bow. She had not practiced with the weapon yet, and couldn't get it together fast enough. "Screw it," Faith muttered angrily.

The vampire took a swing at her. Faith ducked the blow and kicked him into the brick wall on the other side of the alley. She gripped the arrow in her hand as though it were a stake, and jabbed it into his heart as he spun around.

The leech crumbled to dust.

Buffy and Faith sprinted down the alley together, trying to get to Balthazar's lair.

"I think we got more coming," Faith said quickly.

"We're never gonna make it to the warehouse," Buffy replied.

"They keep coming one at a time, we got a shot," Faith said.

Just as she said it, another vampire dropped down into the alley in front of them. Faith slammed him into the wall, then tossed him across the alley to land on some old boxes. Buffy flung a fireball at him without hesitation, and he burst into flames before exploding to dust.

They moved on, intent upon their goal. As they rounded the corner, a hand reached out from the darkness and gripped Buffy's shoulder. She grabbed the figure in the shadows and threw him, hard, against a Dumpster.

He cried out in pain as he hit, then slid down to the filthy pavement.

Faith descended upon him, stake in hand.

"Faith, no!" Buffy screamed.

But it was too late. Faith punched the stake through the man's heart with a sickening crunch.

He did not dust.

He just bled.

Buffy knelt at the man's side as Faith looked on, eyes wide with horror, trying to re-create the preceding moments in her mind. The man touched the blood on his chest and his hands shook. He tried to speak, but could not.

"Don't move …" Buffy told him.

"I didn't… I didn't know," Faith stammered. She shook her head, denying what her eyes saw; it just was not possible. There was supposed to be only dust, but there was so much blood.

Buffy glanced at Faith. "We need to call nine-one-one, now!" she shouted.

Faith's mouth opened, but no words came out. She watched helplessly as Buffy turned back to the bleeding man.

"Don't move. It's okay," Buffy whispered as she pushed her hand over the wound, trying to use Whitelighter powers to heal him. "Come on, work… please…" Her words trailed off when blood began to drip from the man's mouth. As she looked up in his eyes she knew she was too late, that her powers wouldn't save him for he was dead.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy felt as though she were frozen to the spot. The dead man's eyes seemed to stare at her. Blood dripped down his chin and soaked through his shirt. She could not breathe, could not speak, could not move. In that moment, it was as though she herself had died.

Then Faith was tugging at her, pulling her away. "Come on!" Faith urged her. "Come on, we got to go!"

Buffy was too numb to resist. Faith dragged her away from the cooling corpse and together they ran down the end of the alley. With a hard look, Faith urged her to follow.

"Come on," Faith said again. Then she climbed over a low wooden fence at one side of the alley.

Buffy watched Faith go, but could not follow. At the moment, she felt as though she wanted to be as far away as possible from Faith. She looked up to see that on the other side of the alley there was a high chain link fence. Without hesitation, she scaled it and dropped down on the other side.

A moment later she was out on the street. Cars drove by and she slipped between them and hurried to a tunnel just on the other side. A dark figure appeared in her peripheral vision. Heart pounding, Buffy turned, and was startled to find Angel standing before her.

"Angel," she stammered weakly.

"Buffy. I've been looking for you."

Her heart beat faster. She wanted to tell him, wanted him to take her in his arms and tell her it would be all right. But she could not put it into words just yet. That would make it all too real.

Suddenly he frowned, sniffed the air. Then he grabbed her wrist and pulled her arm toward him. He had scented the blood there and now he stared at it.

Then she pulled it away quickly.

"Your hand," he said, concern etched in his face.

"It's okay," she said softly.

He blinked, but did not question her. "I've just been to the warehouse. I was waiting for you. They've got Giles."

Buffy shivered. It had seemed unreal before, and she had thought it could not get worse. But suddenly it had.

Devereau Street

In Balthazar's warehouse lair, Giles and Wesley stood side by side, hands tied behind their backs, flanked by members of the Eliminati. With dawning horror and utter revulsion, they watched as the disgusting, blubbery demon was bathed in ladled water by his vampire slaves.

"The front, the front," Balthazar gurgled wetly. "Moisten the front."

"Oh, God," Wesley whispered to himself. "Oh, God."

"Doesn't seem too promising, does it?" Giles remarked quietly.

"Stay calm, Mr. Giles, we have to stay calm," Wesley rasped.

"Well, thank God you're here," Giles replied dryly. "I was planning to panic."

"What is that thing?" Wesley whispered, appalled.

"That would be your demon. You know, the dead one?" Giles replied.

"There's no need to get snippy," Wesley said.

Balthazar moaned in relief as the water washed over him. His blazing eyes settled on the Watchers. "Bring them closer."

The vampires grabbed Giles and Wesley brutally and trundled them up right in front of the demon's bathing tank.

"You know what I want," Balthazar spat.

"If it's for me to scrub those hard to reach areas," Giles said coolly, "I'd like to request you kill me now."

One of the Eliminati rabbit-punched him from behind. Giles grunted in pain. "Ow," the Watcher replied.

"Are you out of your mind?" Wesley whimpered. "This is hardly the time for games."

"Why not? They're going to torture us to death anyway," Giles replied.

Balthazar chuckled. "He's not wrong about that."

"Now hold on!" Wesley protested. "We have something you want, you have something we want."

The demon considered. "Mmm, a trade, intriguing." It frowned. "No, wait, boring. Pull off his kneecaps!"

The vampires rushed him, and Wesley screamed. "No! The Slayer gave it to someone. A tall man, a friend of hers. I can tell you everything."

"Quiet, you twerp," Giles snarled at him. "They'll kill us both."

"But… I like to have… kneecaps," Wesley stammered.

"You will tell us everything!" the demon roared.

Wesley shuddered. "Yes, sir…"

"What is this friend's name?" Balthazar demanded.

Defeated, Wesley lowered his head. "I … didn't actually catch it."

"Tell you what," Giles sighed. "Let Captain Courageous here go and I'll tell you what you want to know. How's that deal?"

Water sloshed in the tank as Balthazar shook with rage and screamed at them. "There is one deal! You will die quickly or you will die slowly! The man who has my amulet, what is his name?"

"His name is Angel."

Giles blinked at the voice and turned to see Angel—in full vamp-face—stride confidently into the room and launch himself at the Eliminati. He tore into them with a vigor and cruelty that surprised even Giles.

Not that the Watcher had any problem with that, given that Angel was in the process of saving his life.

One of the vampires rushed at the two men, and Giles gave him a solid head-butt that put him down hard. When he glanced up, skull smarting from that move, he saw Buffy appear in a swirl of fiery flames. The Eliminati rushed her, and she fought them off handily.

Buffy beat the vampire closest to her and relieved him of his sword.

Expecting her next move, Giles turned his back to her, exposing his tied wrists. Buffy brought the sword around and down with one swift, precise move, and slashed the ropes away.

The warehouse was filled with the sound of swords clanging as they missed their marks, and fists striking flesh as Buffy and Angel battered the Eliminati mercilessly.

"Unacceptable!" Balthazar screeched, gasping for air. "Unacceptable!"

Giles worked Wesley free of his restraints just as a vampire swordsman approached from behind him. He shoved Wesley out of the way and ducked the blade as it whistled through the air. The sword clanged off the wall and Giles stood up tall and grabbed the swordsman's wrist. He slammed his elbow back and shattered the Eliminati's nose, then tore the sword from his grasp.

Another vampire swordsman approached. He swung his blade, and Giles parried. A second attack and Giles knocked the blade away and rammed his fist into the vampire's face.

When he looked up, Wesley was a prisoner again. One of Balthazar's vampiric henchmen had grabbed him in a tight hold from behind.

"Mr. Giles!" Wesley cried, panicked.

The blood surged through Giles's heart. He had not felt this invigorated in a very long time. He brought the blade up and swung it with all his might toward Wesley's neck.

"Down!" he roared.

Wesley tucked his head down as best he could. It was just enough. The blade severed the vampire's head neatly from its shoulders, and the thing showered cinder and ash down upon the crouching Wesley.

There were many Eliminati, but they were no match for Buffy and Angel. Buffy and Angel battered and broke the demon's sword-wielding slugs, barely taking a hit themselves. Giles glanced over in alarm to see that Balthazar had realized it too—El Eliminati were losing.

The demon roared and reached out toward Angel. Waves of power emanated from him, and Angel was lifted off his feet and yanked toward the bathing tank as if by a magnet. Balthazar grabbed Angel by the head and began to crush his skull. Angel grunted in pain and tried to fight him off, but to no avail.

Giles started toward Angel, but even as he did he glanced over at Buffy to see that her gaze was not on Angel and the demon, but on a heavy, industrial light hanging from a bare cable above the tank. He smiled thinly as he realized what she was about to do.

With a single pull, Buffy tore the cable from its moorings on the ceiling and the lamp plummeted down into Balthazar's bathing tank. The demon screeched in pain and shuddered as the electricity running through the water thoroughly cooked it.

The stench was awful.

Angel fell to the ground beside the tank. Buffy went to him and helped him up. Even as she did, Balthazar's eyes popped open and he wheezed painfully.

"Slayer … you think you've won?" the demon rasped, and chuckled weakly. "When he rises… you'll wish… I'd killed you all."

Balthazar looked as though he might say more. Then a final, fetid breath was pumped from his lungs, his eyes closed, and the demon was well and truly dead.

February 14, 1999 – Sunday

Faith's Motel

In the bathroom in her motel room, Faith scrubbed hard to get the blood out of her clothes from the night before. The sunlight seemed grimy through the windows. A bit of red swirled in the water in the sink.

There was a knock at the door and Faith glanced up, heart skipping a beat.

"Faith. It's me," came Buffy's voice.

Slowly, a bit reluctantly, Faith crossed the room and opened the door.

Buffy was dressed conservatively, almost as though she had just come from church. "Hey," she said.

Faith did not meet Buffy's eyes. "Hey." She walked back across the room and into the bathroom to continue scrubbing.

Buffy closed the door, then followed her. In the doorway, she watched Faith for a few seconds. "So, how you doing?" she asked.

"I'm all right," Faith said, revealing nothing. "You know me."

"Faith, we need to talk about what we're going to do."

"There's nothing to talk about," Faith snapped, and threw a quick, angry glance at Buffy. "I was doing my job."

Buffy stared at her. "Being a Slayer is not the same as being a killer. Faith, please don't shut me out here. Sooner or later we're both gonna have to deal."

Faith ignored her, wringing out her shirt. "Wrong."

"We can help each other."

"I don't need it," Faith said. She pulled the stopper out of the sink and walked out into the room, carrying her wet clothes.

"Yeah?" Buffy replied. "Who's wrong now? Faith, you can shut off all the emotions that you want, but eventually they're gonna find a body."

Faith spun and glared at her. "Okay, this is the last time we're having this conversation and we're not even having it now, you understand me? There is no body. I took it, weighted it, and dumped it. The body doesn't exist."

Buffy stared at her in shock. "Getting rid of the evidence doesn't make the problem go away," she argued.

"It does for me," Faith replied lightly.

"Faith, you don't get it! You killed a man."

"No, you don't get it." Faith smiled at her. "I. Don't. Care."

Buffy stared at Faith for a moment and then disappeared in a swirl of fiery flames.

Faith pulled the locket out from under her shirt and looked at the baby picture of Hope, "If I go to jail I can't find you. And I am going to find you."

---

Author's Note: The name of the demon on BTVS was not Calthazar it was Balthazar. While the spelling is different than Belthazor. I didn't want to confuse folks in to thinking this was Cole, so I changed the spelling of the demon's name slightly.

Edit 7/21/2023: I have since reverted the name back to what it was seen in canon and decided to play it off as two demons simply with similar names.