Chapter 34: Helpless

January 18, 1999 – Monday

Summers Home

Other lovers might have picnics on hillsides, but Buffy and Faith tried to kill each other.

They fought in the back yard. Fragrant baguettes and French cheeses were spread on a blanket nearby, along with bottles of water, ripe fruit, and a vanilla-scented candle or two.

Taut, sweaty, and all business, Buffy grabbed Faith's shoulders as hard as she could.

Faith broke Buffy's hold and tried to hoist her over his head. She didn't succeed, and Buffy backed away like a prizefighter, then rushed her and managed a good sidekick to her hip. She grunted, caught Buffy's leg, and flipped her lover.

Buffy landed with the greatest of ease.

Fight, fight, fight. Neither of them held back. That was what made it good, that was why they both enjoyed it. The only other person Buffy could really go after like this was Angel, but given the fact their relationship had fallen into friend territory…

They both fought in silence, their shadows dancing.

Buffy spotted an opening in Faith's defenses, brought her knees up hard, flipped Faith over herself and onto her back. Then she sprang to her feet only a few seconds before Faith recovered and rushed her.

They tussled, and then Buffy sweep-kicked Faith's legs out from under her. Faith hit the floor again, harder this time. She grabbed a baguette and rolled over to Faith's flattened body, knelt on her lover's chest, and prepared to deal the deadly, breadly death blow. "Gotcha!" she crowed.

"Right in the heart," Faith agreed.

Buffy gave the bread a jaunty toss and said, "Satisfied?"

Then their gazes locked, and Faith pulled Buffy down and kissed her. "What do you think," she said lowly with longing. Her body tensed, and as with the other battle they had just fought, Buffy's responded in kind. "But I'm not sure your backyard is the place."

Buffy glanced up and looked around. "Probably right," she said sadly. "I should go. Giles is—"

"Waiting for you. I know." Faith said. "I still don't know why we have to do the stupid crystal thing separate."

"Neither do I," Buffy admitted with a shrug.

"So, are you still going to the ice show with your mom?" Faith wondered as they got to their feet.

"Yes," Buffy said as she grinned. She had told her mother one of her dreams growing up was to figure skate. So, Joyce for her birthday was getting them tickets. "It's going to be great fun."

Sunnydale High School

Buffy hiked dutifully to the library, where Giles waited with half the Sunnydale Natural History Museum in a big box. Giles. Most of the contents of the box was on the table, a buffet of crystals she had managed to fumble through identifying, and she really, really wished she had an elsewhere to be.

"And this one?" Giles prodded, dangling a hunk of lavender at her.

"Amethyst."

"Used for?" Giles asked coolly.

"Breath mint?"

Giles huffed. "For charm bags, money spells, and cleansing one's aura."

"Okay, so: How do you know when your aura's dirty? Somebody come by with a finger and write 'wash me' on it?"

Giles was not amused. "Buffy, I'm aware of your distaste for studying vibratory stones, but as it's part of your training, I'd appreciate your glib-free attention."

"Sorry," she said to the huffmeister. "It's just why are Faith and I doing this separately? I should be out there with Faith."

"How can I be sure you're learning this if your both giving each other the answers," Giles informed her. "And as for patrolling, you'll be out there soon enough. Why so anxious?"

"Let's just say I've got a lot of energy to burn off," Buffy stated. Truth be told she hated it when Faith wasn't at her side.

"Due time. For the present, if it's not entirely beyond your capabilities, try to concentrate." He placed a large place crystal before her.

She sighed heavily, and lazily eyed it.

Weatherly Park

Buffy was near the playground where Joyce and Dawn had found the demon masquerading as two dead kids. The chilly night breeze blew the swings gently back and forth, making them squeak like rusty wind chimes. The moon was big and fat and gorgeous like a disk of crystal whatever.

And she was kicking major vampire butt alone. There had been two vampires and Faith at her insistence had taken off after the other leaving her to face this one.

With a good swift body slam, she threw the vamp down the slide. Gravity gave him the ride of his un-life, and he toppled to the ground. Buffy joined him, and the kicks and punches just kept on coming.

"Wow, that was really funny looking," she jibed. "Could you do that again?"

"I'll kill you for that!" the vamp snarled at her.

"For that? What were you trying to kill me for before?"

She smashed him in the face with a very cool roundhouse kick, sending him sprawling yet again, this time onto the whirligig. He didn't like it. She whipped out a stake and got ready for the grand finale.

"Okay, here's the deal," she began, then, whoosh, it was like she was the one on the whirligig and it was doing more than rotating slowly. The world spun around way too fast, and she totally lost her focus, so much so that the vamp noticed it and lunged at her.

He threw her to the ground and pinned her; she still had the business end of the stake pointed at his chest, but he grabbed her wrist and twisted it until the stake was pointed at her own chest. The shocking thing was, he accomplished the move almost effortlessly, and now Buffy couldn't seem to stop him as he started pressing it down on her chest. Plus, it hurt.

Then he leaned in close and whispered, "Let me know if I'm not doing this right."

'Oh, my God, I'm going to die,' she thought. 'How stupid was I to tell Faith to go ahead after the other that I could take care of this one by myself. And now he's going to pierce me through the heart with my own stake.'

"Faith!" she cried. When she didn't receive a reply from her lover she did the only thing she could do she headbutted him, way hard, and he rolled off her. His forehead was bleeding, and it was almost like she was the vampire, the sight of his blood giving her an anchor to focus on.

As she pushed herself up, she spotted her stake, lying on the ground where it was dropped. She scrambled on all fours to retrieve it. Blood-head guy realized what she was doing and dived at her, like they were both going after the same piece of candy after the piñata breaks at a birthday party.

But he was too late. Buffy turned over just with the stake propped up between her fists. The vampire impaled himself on the stake as she held it propped up in her fists.

Screech, poof, the dude was history, and she was coated with his dust. She sat up, brushing it off just as she heard the sounds of someone approaching. "Faith?" she called.

"B?" Faith called back as she woozily made her way through the trees and out into the open. She sat heavily down beside Buffy. "I almost lost to…"

"The vampire?" Buffy finished as she realized she hadn't been the only one to have experienced a very-near-death experience that night. "Same here. He grabbed my stake and almost staked me with it."

"Mine disarmed me," Faith said. "Then leaned in for the kill. Thankfully for me…"

"You had your backup on you," Buffy said with a nod. She leaned her head against Faith's shoulder. "I managed to get mine off me before he staked me then grabbed my stake and…"

"Neither of us have ever had that close of a call before," Faith said. "What is going on?"

"I am going to ask that of Giles when I see him in the morning," Buffy said as she experimentally opened and closed her fists and felt her arms. "We better head home. I think…"

"Agreed," Faith said as they helped each other to their feet and began to trudge home.

January 19, 1999 – Tuesday

Sunnydale High School

Both Buffy and Faith woke up exhausted, Buffy got ready for school while Faith got ready in general. They both made themselves eat something, and hurried to school

They headed for the library, called out for Giles, and realized he hadn't come in yet. "Maybe he's sick?" Buffy suggested looking at Faith. "Maybe he's at home in bed with a water bottle on his head. Or wherever they go."

"Maybe," Faith said. "We should double check things while we wait to see if he shows up. Make sure last night wasn't a fluke."

After making sure the 'Closed' sign was still placed outside the library's double doors, they rummaged around in the book cage. They found the bull's-eye and the throwing knives. They pinned the large bull's-eye on the wall divided the throwing knives between them. After a couple of dozen tosses, neither of them had hit the yellow circle once. Not once. And a number of the knives hadn't been thrown hard enough to pierce the target. They lay on the floor like little silver dead fish.

"What is wrong with us?" Faith questioned.

"I don't know," Buffy said obviously distressed.

"Bit early in the day," Giles said, as he strode otherwise unannounced into the room.

"Giles," Buffy said anxiously, relieved to see him at last, "something's wrong us."

"Wrong?" he echoed. He followed her gaze to the target, and at the knives everywhere… sticking out of walls, a bookcase, books and hardly any at all in the target itself. "Ah," he said, as he took in the carnage. "Perhaps you two shouldn't—"

It was Faith's turn and she threw again, and missed again in a spectacular manner.

"—do that anymore," he finished.

"On top of that, we both had a bad dizzy spell last night and almost let two vamps, one a piece, take us out," Faith told him.

"Mine almost did it with my own stake," Buffy added as she threw another throwing knife, and it was not pretty. "We're both way off our game, our game's left the country, it's in Cuernavaca! Giles, what's going on here?"

"Well… probably one of you caught the flu bug or something and passed it on to the other," he said reasonably. Their total lack of strength and coordination barely seemed to bother him at all.

"On, no," Buffy replied, very, very, very not reassured. "Not sick. I can't get sick. No." She frowned. "Mom's taking me to my first ever ice show. If I cancel on her, it'll break her heart."

Giles looked a little less like Mr. Data and more like someone who cared about them. "Perhaps you both should take it easy for the next forty-eight hours. Forego any more patrolling until you both are feeling yourselves again."

"Maybe he's right, B," Faith said. "Let's get over this flu bug. So your ready for the ice show this weekend."

Buffy looked at Faith for a long moment and then nodded reluctantly. Maybe her girlfriend was right, maybe she just needed a bit of rest. "Are you okay to walk back home?" she asked.

"I'll call your mom," Faith insisted. "Just take it easy, okay?"

Buffy nodded as she gave Faith a quick peck before heading out.

"Faith," Giles said. "Before you go. Why don't we get a little training with the crystals first?"

"Sure," Faith said.

A few minutes later Faith sat and watched Giles set the crystals. "Now, look very carefully for the tiny flaw at its core," he told her motioning toward the Grounding Crystal. .

Reluctantly, Faith stared. There it was, the flaw, a nugget of cloudiness, a little baby rain cloud that, if life were a cartoon, would be hovering above her head.

After a minute or so, Giles said softly, "Faith?"

The Grounding Crystal had done its work. Faith was unconscious so long as her optic link with the magical stone was not disturbed. A raven vampire could enter the library and drain the life from his veins—even hers—and she would do nothing to prevent it.

It was time for the dirty business at hand.

Reaching under the table, he picked up his valise and from it plucked the small leather box. Inside glittered the enormous hypodermic needle, filled with yellow liquid. The formula for the poison was over a thousand years old.

Hating himself, he swabbed the inside of her forearm and injected her with the yellow liquid. He watched her as he shoved the hypo back into the box, and the box back into his valise, and the valise back under the table. As he had been instructed, she neither felt the injection nor reacted to the debilitating chemical reactions that were now taking place inside her body.

Satisfied that all was as it should be, he passed his hand over the Grounding Crystal, breaking her visual connection. She instantly blinked like someone brought out of a hypnotic trance.

"What?" Faith asked, jerking and blinking. She looked a bit abashed. "I wish I knew who gave this flu bug to who."

"Yes, you can use the phone in my office to call Mrs. Summers," Giles suggested.

"Thanks," Faith said as she stood up and walked in the direction of his office. She didn't notice that his warm expression drooped with self-loathing.

He felt heartless and ignoble, especially when he had to repeat the process one more time, this time with Buffy.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

At lunch Buffy met up with Xander, Willow, and Oz. The four of them sat about like seniors should, and she told them all about the ice show.

Xander looked amused. "An ice show?" he echoed, head cocked, eyebrow arched. "A show performed on ice. And how old are…" he cut himself off when Buffy glared at him.

"I saw Snoopy on Ice once when I was little," Willow piped up. "My dad took me backstage," she added fondly, and then her expression darkened. "And I got scared and threw up on Woodstock."

"I know you think it's just a big thing," Buffy stated as she continued to glare at Xander. "Too me it's not. It was something I was denied growing up. And now that I am out, I intend to do all the things I missed growing up."

"I think it's sweet, that your mom is taking you to your first ice show." Then she lowered her voice and advised, "Ixnay on the caramel corn if you're goin' backstage."

Xander added, "Okay, but we're still talking party, right? I mean, some of us relish celebrating the birth of the Buff."

Buffy hesitated. "Maybe it's time to call a moratorium on parties in my honor. They tend to go badly. Monsters crash, people die." She thought her birthday last year and how it had gone horribly wrong after she had slept with Angel.

"Eighteen is a big one, Buffy," Willow reminded her. "You can vote now. You can be drafted." She brightened with sudden inspiration. "You can vote not to be drafted."

Buffy remained unconvinced. "I think I'll choose to celebrate this one with quiet reflection."

"Where's it written quiet reflection can't be combined with cake and funny hats?" Xander insisted. "Besides this is the first one where you can celebrate and not have to hide who you are. That should be celebrated."

"You know, you're right, Xander," Buffy agreed as she smiled at him.

Summers Home

Buffy smelled her mom's awesome spaghetti sauce as she went in and shut the door behind herself.

"Buffy?" Joyce called.

Buffy sang out, "Present." She gave her mom a quick smile as she sat between Dawn and Faith at the kitchen island.

"I have some bad news, Buffy," Joyce said looking at her eldest daughter. "I'm not going to be able to take you this weekend to the ice show."

Buffy looked at her mother for a moment and sighed. "That's okay, mom. I was thinking earlier how nice it might be to have a quiet birthday."

"Well, I was thinking since I can't take you this weekend. What about next weekend instead," Joyce continued. "And I was thinking, I could get tickets for all four of us. What better birthday gift would there be than all of us going."

Buffy looked at her mother for a long moment and then looked at both Dawn and Faith. Her sister and her girlfriend took her hands and squeezed them. She then looked at her mother and nodded slowly. "I'd like that," she admitted.

Sunnydale Arms

ROOMS TO LET, the dilapidated sign invited, added the inducement of BREAKFAST INCLUDED, INQUIRE WITHIN.

But not enough people had inquired within. In fact, after a while, no one did. Now the place looked like a haunted house—creepy, mysterious, and spooky. The boardinghouse was large and broken down; overgrown shrubbery choked the last few green blades of an otherwise deceased lawn. The faded sign near the end of what was once a walk dangled from its rotted post, like a worn-out, homeless man who had given up on working for anything, including the hope of one more day on the planet.

Inside the creepy place, past the sparsely furnished anteroom, the windows were being bricked up in preparation for the test. Blair, the man on the ladder, was laying mortar and the final bricks in the frame of a windowsill. Quentin Travers, the senior Watchers Council member on the premises, watched the weary lad and sighed inwardly at the trouble the man was having.

Hobson, the other young Council apprentice, descended the stairs, looking as exhausted as Blair. His work clothes were splattered with mortar.

"How much longer, Hobson?" Quentin asked him.

"Five, maybe six hours, sir," Hobson confessed. The man clearly felt uneasy with manual labor, but he was not about to complain. Quentin gave him high marks for that.

Quentin checked his watch. "Once you've finished, you and Blair can get some rest," he said, then added, "but sleep in shifts."

Then the low, guttural drone that had served as background noise insisted upon his attention. He followed its course until he stood in front of two heavy wooden crates propped up against the wall, next to a mantelpiece.

"We're getting very close," he said appraisingly, taking a step toward the box. "Both of the Slayers' preparation are nearly complete."

Unknown to Travers, the monsters inside the box heard every word he spoke.

Sunnydale High School

Buffy sat in the school library and watched Giles set the crystals up.

"Mom's trying at least to walk in the trans pride parade," Buffy piped up. "Still I didn't like the disappointment it made me feel when…"

"Buffy," Giles said, not listening. "I think we should start with the Grounding Crystal again."

"…she told me she couldn't go this weekend," she continued.

His full attention was on the Grounding Crystal. "Now, look very carefully for the tiny flaw at its core," he told her.

"Still it was nice of her to offer a compromise where both Faith and Dawn can go also," she finished.

"Hmm? Yes. Buffy. I think we need to concentrate."

Buffy nodded and looked at the crystal.

"Look for the flaw at its center," he urged.

Obediently, she stared.

After a minute or so, Giles said softly, "Buffy?"

The Grounding Crystal had done its work again. He reached under the table again and picked up his valise and from it plucked the small leather box. Again, he removed the enormous hypodermic needle and like with Faith he swabbed the inside of her forearm and injected her with the yellow liquid. He watched her as he shoved the hypo back into the box, and the box back into his valise, and the valise back under the table. He then passed his hand over the Grounding Crystal, breaking her visual connection.

"What?" she asked, jerking and blinking. She looked a bit abashed. "Sorry. Must be this flu bug I'm nursing."

"Best take care of that," he said solicitously. "Perhaps we should—"

"Call it a night. Good idea. See ya."

"Good night," he said.

January 20, 1999 – Wednesday

Sunnydale High School

Buffy weaved through the mid-morning cattle drive that was the changing of class periods. She felt a little better, and she figured the flu bug was being slayed. Or maybe she was simply enjoying the result of a long-delayed good night's sleep.

"How goes it with Amy the rat?" she asked Willow.

"Good," Willow reported. "She really likes the new exercise wheel. When she runs, her little nose wiggles so happily—"

"I meant, how goes it with changing her back into a human being?" Buffy chided her, ever so gently. Willow's feelings were easily hurt.

"Oh. Still working on it." Willow brightened. "But I did get her the cutest little bell—"

"You don't do that to me!" a guy shouted suddenly.

Shouted at Cordelia Chase, no less. He was hovering menacingly over the beautiful brunette, in a secluded part of the quad.

"I waited for you at the Bronze all night!" he thundered. "What's the story?"

Cordelia glared up—way up—at him. He was a beefy strapper, chunky like a football player or something. "And the big deal is?" she demanded.

He grabbed her arm. Roughly. "You made me look like some kind of dork in front of my posse."

"First of all, 'posse'? Passé," Cordelia informed him hotly. "Second, anyone with a teaspoon of brains would know not to take my flirting seriously. Especially with my extenuating circumstance."

"What circumstance?" asked jock-head.

"Rebound. Look it up." She turned sharply to leave, and he grabbed her and threw her against a tree. Buffy was instantly transformed from Interested Onlooker Buffy into the Blonde Avenger Buffy.

"I'm not through here," he told Cordelia.

Buffy grabbed his arm. "I beg to differ." Yanked. Yanked again. His arm didn't move. Not one inch, not one centimeter, not one length of a rat's whisker.

He looked down at her like she was a psycho-loony. Buffy tried again with both hands, putting her all into it, and he shoved her aside with barely a glance. She fell hard against the stone bench, her stuffing knocked out, and tumbled hard to the ground.

Willow rushed to her side while Cordelia absorbed what had just happened. With a grunt of total fury, she started socking the jerk anywhere she could reach, mostly on his chest and shoulders.

"What is wrong with you?" she shrieked as the guy backed off. She pursued, really whamming him.

"The chick started it," he insisted defensively.

That infuriated Cordelia even more, and she pumped up the volume, doing a full Rocky Balboa on his person. He went into über-retreat mode, head cradled between his elbows.

Willow asked Buffy, "Are you okay?"

Buffy stared wordlessly up at her, so very not.

Summers Home

"Faith," Joyce said as she walked into the living room. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm okay, Mrs. S.," Faith answered from where she sat on the couch. "In fact, I was thinking of going over to the school and meeting Buffy when she gets out. Maybe, if you don't mind lending me a couple bucks, taking her out for a burger for her birthday."

"That sounds like a good idea," Joyce agreed. "That way I can pickup Dawn and get ready for Buffy's surprise party tonight."

Sunnydale High School

"Okay, I just got swatted down by some no-neck and rescued by Cordelia." Buffy told Giles as they walked down one of the corridors. "What the hell is happening, Giles?"

"All right, calm yourself," he said calmly.

Her eyes practically spun; she was so beyond calm. "Are you getting the big picture here? I have no strength! I have no coordination. I threw knives like… like…"

"Like Xander?" he asked.

'Help me!' she pleaded with her eyes.

"Look, Buffy, I assure you, given time, we'll get to the bottom of whatever's causing this… anomaly."

She was scared to death. And this 'wait and see' attitude was so unlike Giles that it offered little comfort. "Promise me?" she pleaded.

"Yes. I give you my word."

Mildly comforted . . . but only mildly, and only 'cause its Giles, she headed off to her next class.

Sunnydale Arms

As Giles sat in the Sunnydale Arms, he himself was not at all comforted.

The dilapidated parlor offered dreary, tattered furnishings and bricked-up entrances and exits. No one got in, no one got out… unless the Council permitted it.

It was absurd that Giles's superior, Quentin Travers, had offered him tea.

It was even more absurd that he had accepted it. That they should be mired in the courtesies when they were discussing the possibility of Buffy and Faith's deaths revolted him down to the soles of his shoes.

"You're having doubts," Quentin said unnecessarily. "The Cruciamentum is not easy. For Slayer or Watcher. But it's been done this way for a dozen centuries, whenever a slayer turns eighteen. It's a time-honored rite of passage." The had held off on Faith's Cruciamentum the month before so as not to give either Slayer ample time to prepare. Better to do them both at the same time they reckoned.

"It's an antiquate exercise in cruelty," Giles objected. "To lock them both in this tomb, weakened, defenseless, to unleash those on them—"

He tried to keep his tone emphatic without losing his temper. "If any one of the Council still had actual contact with a slayer, they'd see. But I'm the one in the thick of it."

"Which is why you're not qualified to make this decision. You're too close," Travers pointed out, also emphatic, and much further from the point of losing his temper. But why shouldn't he be? He was supremely detached from Giles's concerns. His focus was ensuring that the test be carried out fairly and honestly, not on worrying that Buffy and/or Faith might fail it… by dying.

"Not true," Giles insisted.

"I'm sorry." Quentin did look perhaps a tiny bit sympathetic after all. "A slayer must be more than physical prowess. She must have cunning, imagination, a confidence derived from self-reliance. Believe me, once this is all over, your Buffy will be stronger for it."

"Or they'll be dead for it," Giles snapped.

He rose and made his way to the front hallway. Quentin accompanied him, looking pleased at the sight of a young man adjusting a large spring mechanism at the front door.

"Rupert," Quentin began, and Giles looked at him. "If these girls are everything you say, then you've nothing to worry about."

Giles nodded slightly and left, tightlipped and silent, and very, very worried.

Sunnydale High School

Faith had come much earlier than she had intended when Buffy had called and told her in near hysteria what had happened with the jerk who had accosted Cordelia and Buffy's attempt to save Cordelia. Now she sat with her lover and the rest of the Scooby gang ensconced in the library trying to find out why she and Buffy felt the way they did. After her arrival she had tried to arm wrestle Xander and found she was as weak as normal girl.

Whatever had hit them both was definitely not a normal flu bug.

They combed through stacks and stacks of books about monsters, vampires, and the assorted death stylings of various other creatures of darkness.

"Aha! A curse on slayers!" Willow stated. "Oh, no, wait." She made a sorry face. "It's lawyers."

"Maybe we're on the wrong track with the spells, curses, and whatnot," Faith suggested.

"Maybe, Faith is right. What we should be looking for is something like Slayer kryptonite," Xander added.

"Faulty metaphor," Oz noted. "Kryptonite kills."

"You're assuming I meant green kryptonite," Xander said, with the confidence of a comic book geek extraordinaire. "I was referring, of course, to red kryptonite, which drains Superman of his powers."

"Wrong." Oz gave his head a shake. "Gold kryptonite's the power-sucker. Red kryptonite's the one that mutates Superman into some sort of weird—"

"—Guys," Buffy interrupted testily, gesturing to both herself, Faith and the books. "Reality?"

Faith, Willow and Buffy moved to a more rarefied corner of the library.

"Buffy… Faith," Willow said soothingly, "I know you both are definitely, without a doubt, going to get your powers back."

"Thanks, Will," Faith said gratefully.

"But… what if you both don't?" Willow asked.

"Okay." Buffy took a breath. "If we don't get our powers back, we… don't. We'll deal," she said as Faith nodded. "There's a whole lot of good sides to it."

"Actually," Willow said, "it could really open up—"

But that thread got snipped the second Giles walked into the library. Faith and Buffy headed him off at the middle of the floor and Faith said, "Did you find out… anything?"

Giles took a big breath. "No. Not yet."

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Buffy and Faith decided to take a break and sat in the school lounge. "Here," Faith said as she handed a present to her lover. "Happy Birthday."

Buffy suspected it was a book, or maybe a diary… maybe Faith's diary. She unwrapped it—book, after all—and looked at the cover. There was no title. She flipped it opened and she smiled, she had been right, it was a diary.

"I thought you might be interested in what I was like back in Boston before I was called," Faith admitted.

"I would," Buffy said as she smiled at her girlfriend. "It's beautiful."

Faith frowned slightly, looking unsure. "You really like it?"

"Of course, it is," Buffy insisted as she pulled out her own diary out of her bag. "A belated birthday to you," she said handing hers to Faith. "Now we can both have the perfect birthday reading up about each other."

Faith looked down at the diary in her hands and then up at Buffy and smiled. "Thank you," she said.

"Faith, what if we have lost our powers?" Buffy searched her girlfriend's face.

"We lived a long time without them. We can do it again," Faith answered.

"I guess." Buffy paused, unconvinced. "But what if we can't? We've both seen too much now. We know what goes bump in the night. Not being able to fight it… what if we just hide under our bed, all scared and helpless?" She had a worse thought. "Or what if we just get pathetic? Hanging out at the 'Old Slayers' Home' talking people's ears off about our glory days? Showing them Mr. Pointy, the stake we had bronzed?"

Faith moved to her, speaking soothingly. "Buffy, neither of us could be helpless or boring, not even if we tried."

Buffy was not gentled. "Oh, don't be so sure. Before I became the Slayer, I was… well, I don't want to say shallow, but… let's just say a certain person who shall remain nameless, let's call her 'Spordelia,' looked like a classical philosopher next to me. "

Faith nodded. "Open to the first page," she said. "Down at the bottom…"

Buffy did as instructed and opened Faith's diary to the first page. Faith pointed toward a passage and she read it, "The best part of the whole day happened after cheerleading practice…" She looked up at Faith in shock. "You were a cheerleader?" (A/N)

"For a while, yeah," Faith said. "Back when I was younger and before my mom started drinking and beating me. So I know all about being in that circle. Being part of the popular crowd. Neither of us are those people anymore."

Buffy took a breath and took the plunge, speaking the words she feared most: "Faith, if I'm not the Slayer, what do I have to offer? What do I do?" Lowering her voice, she added, "Why would you like me?"

Faith said, very quietly, "I've loved you since before I met you. All the way back when I lived with Diana in Cambridge. She told me about you. And I knew that if I ever had the chance to meet you that I want to protect you. Not because you needed protecting of course. But because of you are, the most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure of meeting."

"That's beautiful," Buffy breathed.

Sunnydale Arms

Giles stood for a moment taking the measure of the abominable place, asking himself what he planned to do if Quentin refused to listen to reason. Find Buffy and Faith and tell them, of course. And then…?

'Time enough to decide that later,' he reminded himself as he walked down the path toward the front door. The place was eerily silent. No hammers, no voices. Against the moon, the Sunnydale Arms stood silent as a tomb.

The only sound was the crunch of his shoes on some gravel; he took care to move quietly as he kept listening for signs of life. Have they begun it already?

Has Buffy and Faith already lost?

He pushed open the door and stood on the threshold. "Quentin?"

No answer.

Against his instincts, he walked into the place. The place smelled odd, as if the old boards of the walls had been rearranged, allowing mold and decay to permeate the atmosphere. It was the smell of mausoleums and coffins. It was the smell of something long dead, something so old, it had stopped rotting long ago.

He peered into the parlor to find it empty. The two crates stood with their lids firmly closed, their contents blessedly silent. He looked round, increasingly uneasy by the stillness. Finding no one about, he crossed to the staircase and began to ascend, calling out, "Hello? Quentin? Hob—"

There was something tacky on the banister. He held his hand up to the light.

It was blood. A great deal of it.

A chill ran through him; he quickly glanced up to the top landing, then at the crate. Squinting in the dim light, he noticed for the first time the unlocked padlocks and open latchings.

For a moment he literally couldn't think. Then his eyes widened as terror seeped into them. Instinctively, he backed away from the crate, then broke one of the staircase's vertical posts. It would make a serviceable stake. He walked steadily but carefully to the crates, took hold of one, and ripped it open.

It was empty—just shattered brackets, a torn strait-jacket, and splintered wood. There was also more blood, a trail of it leading toward a closed door. Before deciding follow it he wrenched open the second crate, it was empty as well.

He the crossed to the door, he turned the knob and opened it slowly, his stake poised and ready. He flicked on the light.

There was blood, everywhere. Blood, streaked and splattered all over the wall and the door. One bloody arm, a human arm, was visible in the light; he moved slightly, saw not one but two bodies, and bolted.

He pulled out his handkerchief and gagged.

'Kralik and Kiara are gone,' he realized. 'They've gone after Buffy and Faith.'

Giles raced from the house.

He had never moved faster in his life.

Streets of Sunnydale

The moon shone through clouds, lighting Buffy and Faith's way, and they walked beneath a burnt-out streetlamp. Despite what Faith had said in the school lounge, any noise they heard made them both jumpy in a way they could never recall, ever in their lives.

Faith wrapped an arm around Buffy, not just to comfort her lover, but to comfort herself as well as they trudged down the wet street.

Up the street, two bulky guys loitered beside a car, and they both gave them a lewd once-over as they drew near. Unlike Buffy, Faith had plenty of experience when it came to people like that. But she had also been the Slayer for most of the encounters.

As they passed the two guys, one called out, "Hey, sweet girls. How much for a lap dance for me and my buddy?" He chuckled, and his buddy joined in.

Faith steeled her jaw and she paused. For one quick moment, she considered kicking their butts. Then she thought about Buffy, and with total frustration she let it go. Gave them a pass, let them bully her and her lover.

The guys' laughter followed them as they moved away from them. They walked a few more steps, alert to the sounds of night—crickets, the surf of the occasional passing vehicle, the distant bark of a dog. They heard their own footsteps.

Suddenly they heard a very weird sound. It took them both a moment to realize that it was humming—low, guttural, and tuneless. Faith glanced briefly behind her to see if the two guys had followed them and she didn't see them. "It's not them," she whispered to Buffy.

"Faith," Buffy said her eyes wide.

Faith whirled around to face their stalkers. They stood smack up against a tall, crazed-looking vampire, who grinned evilly down at them and said, "Wish I could, but my mind's not what it used to be."

They tried to pull away, but the vampire grabbed the sleeve of Buffy's coat.

Instinctively, Faith hit him in the face. Twice. He didn't register it at all.

Buffy's mind flashed back to Cordelia's human predator, who had thrown her against the stone bench; and then to the vampires in the playground, the ones who had almost taken her and Faith out. This vamp was bigger and scarier; the air of menace surrounding him was palpable.

Her terror building, Buffy whimpered, "Let us go."

"Didn't say 'please,'" he said, mocking her. He pulled Buffy closer, fangs bared.

Faith reached for Buffy's jacket and began slipping it off her lover. Once Buffy was out of it they retreated, only to find a female vampire blocking their way. She steered Buffy in the opposite direction, and they both ran for their lives.

Almost casually, as if their head start were negligible, the male vampire gestured with his head and the female one raced after the Slayers.

They looked around, desperately, for a way to safety, then spotted a high, chain-link fence and made for it. "Help us, please!" Buffy shouted.

Faith pushed Buffy to the fence.

Buffy clung to it, unable to use her leaping ability to clear it. Frantically she tried to climb it, but she didn't have nearly enough strength. "I can't climb it," she told her girlfriend.

"Here," Faith said having noticed a small hole in the webbing in front of her.

Buffy dropped down, and awkwardly pushed herself through. The jagged-cut links scratched her and Faith, but they had no time to register the pain—the female vamp was on them, grabbing Faith's leg. The vamp was powerful, its grip vise-like.

Faith kicked and struggled, straining to get through the hole; the vampire yanked and pulled. Buffy grabbed her and miraculously the blonde Slayer pulled her through, freeing her. She lumbered to her feet.

Headlights bathed them as they got their bearings; it was an oncoming car, and Buffy waved her arms, shouting at it. "Stop! Please!" she cried. "We need—"

But the car didn't slow. In fact, it almost mowed them down.

"Stop!" Buffy pleaded, dodging out of the way.

Faith looked back at the face to see the vampire scaling then fence. "We got to motor," she told her lover.

Buffy screamed and pulling Faith behind her turned to run, failing to notice the lights from another oncoming car, heading straight for them.

Too late to jump out of the way, they braced to be hit. At the last instant, the car swerved to their right and screeched to a halt. The passenger door swung open.

It was Giles, behind the wheel of his Citroën.

"Hurry!" he barked.

Buffy got in the passenger seat and Faith got in the back seat. Then Giles put the pedal to the metal even before they got their doors closed; then they realized the vampire was at the rear door, pulling on it.

Faith managed to kick the female vamp off. The female vamp hit the road and rolled for a few feet.

But like all immortal beings, she pulled herself back up. But Giles had successfully widened the distance between the vamp and the car, and Buffy and Faith turned around.

The other vampire, the taller, crazy one, stood in the center of the road, wrapped in Buffy's sweater.

Sunnydale High School

Giles sat across from Faith and Buffy in the school library. He had wrapped them both in blankets. They had waved off his offer of tea, too upset to think about trifles. They were both reliving thr attack, much as normal people do.

"When I hit him, it felt like my arm was broken. It hurt so much. Giles… I can't be… just a person. I can't be helpless like that." Buffy said, her eyes were huge.

"We have to find out what's happening to us," Faith said.

For a moment Giles was tempted to go into his office, retrieve his journal, and let them read what essentially amounted to his written confession of the entire affair. But that would be harder on them—and worse, easier on him. He deserved to suffer for what he had done.

Wordlessly, numb from head to toe, he fetched the leather case and placed it in front of the Slayers, opening it to reveal the hypo and a vial of pale yellow liquid.

"It's an organic compound of muscle relaxants, adrenal suppressers—" he took a breath— "The effect is temporary. You'll both be yourselves again in a few days."

He spoke slowly, wanting to ensure that he told them all of it, that he left nothing out from fear that they would never, ever be able to forgive him. Even if it cost him their respect and love, they would know what he had done to them.

Buffy extended a quivering hand, taking the box and staring at it with growing revulsion. She was clearly in a stunned haze, not quite comprehending the enormity of his role in her misery.

"You…" Faith rasped.

Giles swallowed hard. "It's a test, Buffy… Faith." He couldn't get the gentleness out of his voice. He so wanted to make things right again. He didn't know how, but he had to. "It's given to a slayer when she reaches—if she reaches—her eighteenth birthday."

"I passed mine last month," Faith said obviously confused.

"Yours was held off so as not to give Buffy advanced warning that the test was coming," Giles admitted as Buffy continued to stare at the hypo. "You both were to receive the injections when Buffy turned eighteen. The Slayer is then disabled, then entrapped with a vampire foe whom she's to defeat in order to pass. Since they held off on yours, Faith. There were two vampires for you both to face." He began to pace. "The vampires you two were to face have escaped. The man's name is Zackary Kralik. The woman's name is Kiara Locke."

He ducked just in time as the leather box went flying at his head. The hypo and vial of potion shattered against a bookcase.

He looked over at Faith and Buffy, both of whom were shaking from head to toe, though with rage more than shock.

With hatred.

"You bastard!" Faith snapped. "All this time, you saw what it was doing to Buffy. All this time, and you didn't say a word!"

"I wanted to…" The words were entirely inadequate, indefensible.

"Liar!" Faith shrieked.

"In matters of tradition and protocol, I must answer to the Council." As he spoke, Faith wrapped an arm around Buffy who buried her face in her hands. "My role in this was very specific. I was to administer the injections, then direct you both to the old boardinghouse on Prescott Lane…"

"I can't… I can't hear this," Buffy managed.

"Please." He couldn't hear it, either. What had he been thinking?

How could he have done it?

"Who are you?" Buffy asked brokenly. "How could you do this to us?"

He reached for his Slayers, ready to do anything to close the chasm between them. "I'm deeply sorry. You have to understand—"

Faith spoke through clenched teeth. "If you touch us, I'll kill you."

"You have to listen to me," he said. "Because I have told you both this, the test is invalidated. You'll both be safe. I promise." His voice caught. "Whatever I have to do, to deal with Kralik and Kiara and to win back both of your trust—"

"You stuck a needle in us. You poisoned us," Faith said in a low, angry voice.

"What's going on?" a voice chirped from the doorway.

It was Cordelia, who entered, looked at each of them in turn, assessing the gravity of the situation, and groaned. "Oh, god. Is the world ending? I have to research a paper on Bosnia for tomorrow, but if the world's ending, I'm not going to bother."

Faith helped Buffy to her feet and then they started out of the library.

"Buffy… Faith, you two can't walk home alone," Giles called after the Slayers. "It isn't safe." He moved toward them, and Faith turned, facing him down with bitter loathing on her face.

"You stay away from us," Faith spat at him. Her face never changed as she said, "Cordelia, could you please drive us home?"

Cordelia was clearly taken aback by the request, but she asked no questions. She simply said, "Sure," and Giles was grateful for the discovery that Cordelia was, after all was said and done, a friend to both Buffy and Faith.

Buffy and Faith continued walking out. Cordelia followed, sighing over her shoulder to Giles. "But if the world doesn't end, I'm going to need a note."

Summers Home

Joyce looked up from the coffee table. "Dawn, how is everything going?" she called toward her youngest.

Dawn walked into the living room and smiled. "Company plates are set. All we need now is Buffy and Faith."

"And what about Willow and Xander?" Joyce wondered.

"They said they couldn't make it tonight, but they had their own plans for a surprise party for Buffy tomorrow night," Dawn explained. She cocked her head. There was a strange sound outside. It sounded like moaning, or crying. "Mom."

"I hear it," Joyce said as she got up and followed Dawn to the front door and opened it.

Someone was balled in a fetal position at the front of the porch.

"That's Buffy's coat," Dawn said.

"Buffy?" Every mom-sense she possessed went into hyper-drive as she hurried to her daughter as Dawn followed and touched her arm.

The figure rolled over. It wasn't Buffy. It was a vampire, with a mean, feral smile and eyes that spun with madness. It said to them, in a lazy, crazy way, "Mother? Sister?"

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

Cordelia gave Buffy and Faith a ride home. They let themselves in through the back door.

"Mom?" Buffy called. "Dawn?"

There was no response as they walked on through, and that was when they noticed that the front door was ajar. Their training took over, crowding out fear as they started scanning for signs of a struggle, or for an intruder.

"Buffy," Faith said having spotted something small and square taped to the door.

Buffy crossed to it. Then the fear came, waves and waves of it that threatened to overwhelm her. The Polaroid picture was of Joyce and Dawn, their eyes huge with terror, and the vampire who had attacked them earlier with their hands around Joyce and Dawn's throats.

"What is it?" Faith asked as Buffy held up the photo and showed her.

Buffy blanched as she saw the back of the picture. Written in marker was one word:

Come.

"They have them," Buffy stated and with that she and Faith knew what they had to do.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

They dressed for battle. Buffy in a pair of overalls and a long-sleeved top. Faith in her typical leather pants and jacket with a tank top underneath. Resolved and focused, Buffy threw their weapons bag on the bed and they stocked it. Stakes, crosses, crossbow. Buffy put holy water in her overall pocket while Faith slipped a stake up her jacket sleeve.

They both grabbed another cross and slipped them into their back pockets.

Done, Faith grabbed the handle and prepared to hoist the bag off the bed. It was amazingly heavy. "B," she said as she released the bag.

Buffy grabbed the handle and prepared to hoist the bag. It wasn't as heavy for her as for Faith, but it was still heavy. "I guess I still have some of my pre-HRT testosterone infused strength. Still…"

"I know," Faith said.

Streets of Sunnydale

Kralik and Kiara dragged Joyce and Dawn through the streets of Sunnydale. As on most evenings, there were few people out, and none of them realized that the woman and her daughter being held so closely by their companions were kidnapping victims in the clutches of a walking nightmare.

Hope flared once when a car going the other way slowed and the driver—a young man—peered through the window at Joyce, Dawn and the monsters. Joyce tried to cry out, but the male vampire murmured, "Careful, careful," and squeezed her shoulder so hard she thought it would snap.

The car drove on, and Joyce and Dawn despaired.

'Buffy and Faith will find us,' Dawn told herself. But she knew that was exactly what the vampires… wanted.

Then the female vampire muttered, "Almost there." The vampires hit both Dawn and Joyce so hard that they tumbled into darkness and fell limp in the vampires' embrace.

Sunnydale Arms

When Joyce and Dawn came to, they were surrounded by the dimmest possible light. The first thing they noticed was that their heads throbbed. The second was that they sat bound to two chairs, their mouths gagged, in the middle of a dank, empty cellar.

"Mother," the male vampire cooed from the shadows. "May I call you Mother?"

The Polaroid camera flashed, blinding them. He had already taken dozens of pictures of them. Maybe hundreds by now.

"My own mother was a person with no self-respect of her own," he explained calmly, "so she tried to take mine. Ten years old and she had the scissors; you wouldn't believe what she did with those—"

Flash! Joyce and Dawn cringed from the assault on their dilated pupils.

"But she's dead to me now." He chuckled, and the sound was like fingernails on a blackboard. "Mostly 'cause I killed and ate her."

'Oh, no, no,' Dawn thought wildly; 'please don't do that to mom. Just disappear; just be a bad dream and let me wake up. Make it all go away, please…'

With a supreme act of will, Dawn refocused her attention. She spotted a pitcher of water and a glass on a stool, and hoped they were for her and her mother. Because if they were, then he would have to untie the gag. And if he did that, maybe she would be able to breathe. Then she saw a prescription bottle and some pills in it, and her hopes transformed into yet more fear.

"But it's okay," he assured them. "Because I know I won't be alone much longer. I'll have your daughters." He looked pointedly at Dawn. "I won't kill them. I'll make them both like me. Different. They'll go to sleep and when they wake up—" He paused for effect "—your face will be the first thing they eat."

He came in close to Joyce, who reared in fright. "I have a problem with mothers," he confessed lightly. "I'm aware of that."

Both Dawn and Joyce, terrified beyond words, violently and vainly struggled.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The Sunnydale Arms was a nightmare house not come to life at all; it was dead and it was possessed, and Buffy began to tremble as she and Faith moved slowly into the dark space. Slabs of shadow choked off starlight and moonlight as she examined her surroundings as best they could.

"I'm scared, Faith," Buffy said miserably. "I'm weak and I'm tired and I'm…"

"You are not weak," Faith said cutting her off. "You and I are still Chosen One. Still Slayers."

Buffy glanced at her girlfriend and from somewhere deep inside herself, what Faith had said like an ember; as she let herself feel it, it grew into a flame.

"Whatever the reason that we were Called, it's still valid," Faith went on. "It's still real. Slayers are who we are, what we are, even if the Council tries to take it from us. They can't. They didn't give it to us in the first place."

Buffy looked at Faith for a moment and then slowly nodded. Renewed, she knelt down and stuck a stake in the doorway to keep the door slightly propped open as they closed it on the makeshift doorstop. Faith pulled out a loaded crossbow and handed it to Buffy—her girlfriend's favorite weapon, compact and lethal.

"We can do this, Buffy," Faith said. "For your mom and for Dawn."

"We can do anything," Buffy agreed as they moved stealthily, like an assassin, starting to search the house.

They didn't know the layout and couldn't see anything, anyway. They went into a large room dominated by two large, empty crates. There was a doorway at the other end, and they approached it. Faith opened the door, to find bricks and mortar from threshold to transom.

"They really wanted to keep us in here with them," Faith said shaking her head in anger. "This isn't a test. This is a case of they wanted us to die."

"Those butchers. Those incredible butchers," Buffy groaned.

Suddenly the front door slammed shut.

"We're not alone," Faith said. "Not that I expected us to be alone."

Buffy began to freak out, and she wasn't sure she was going to be able to stop. "Oh, my God," she said. "Oh, my God, oh, my God…"

Sunnydale High School

After Buffy and Faith left, Giles remained at the library, retreating to the relative comfort of his office. He was deeply distressed, yet fiercely glad he had told them the truth. Now his phone was to his ear, determined to end this wretched situation once and for all. But no one was picking up the phone at the boardinghouse. As he listened to the incessant ringing, Giles figured that for a very bad sign. With each second, his anxiety skyrocketed.

As did his wrath.

Then Quentin Travers walked into the library, and Giles hung up.

"I was trying to reach you," he told the senior Council member.

"I was on watch, by the boardinghouse," Quentin informed him.

"Then you know what's happened." Giles's tone was crisp, angry.

"Yes." Quentin was somber, but he didn't sound—or appear—particularly contrite.

"They killed Hobson and Blair," Giles continued, in case Quentin didn't realize the enormity of the situation. But the other man remained impassive. He flared with anger. "Your perfectly controlled test has spun rather impressively out of control, don't you think?"

Quentin didn't grace his outburst with a reply.

"Well, then, allow me." Giles raised his chin slightly. "I've told Buffy and Faith everything."

The older man finally showed some emotion. "That is in direct opposition to the Council's orders."

"Yes. Interestingly enough, I don't give a rat's ass about the Council's orders," Giles snapped. "There will be no test."

"The test has already begun," Quentin countered, with a hint of victory. Giles stared at him, and the man added, "Both of your Slayers entered the field of play about ten minutes ago."

Giles was stunned. "Why…?"

"I don't know. I returned there just as they entered."

Giles realized that both of the creatures were after Buffy. And that they were both about to be killed. Without another moment's thought, he started for the door.

Moving quickly, Quentin blocked his way, looking stern and reproving. "Giles," he said, "we have no business—"

"This isn't business," Giles bit off. He would have decked Quentin Travers if the Council's man had tried to stop him from going to Buffy and Faith's aide.

Sunnydale Arms

Faith and Buffy smelled blood, and death, and danger. They heard nothing.

Buffy both did, and didn't, want to find her mother and sister here.

Their shoes sifted through debris and objects that gave way beneath their weight, they took the measure of the maze-like prison the Council had created for them.

"This has to be the worst birthday present ever," Buffy said angrily. "Congratulations on your service, Slayer Summers… oh, and as a thank you for all your hard work and surviving this long, we'll try to kill you on your big day."

Faith sighed as she placed her hand on Buffy's shoulder. "I know," she admitted. "It's terrible. When we get out of here, I intend to find the guy who forced Giles to inject us and beat him to a bloody pulp."

Back in the parlor of the Sunnydale Arms, Buffy didn't want to let go of their weapons bag, but she couldn't heft it around any longer. She put it down. Hyperalert for any telltale clanking of metal on metal, Buffy and Faith inched forward. They went back to the front door. It was shut tight, and neither of them could get it back open.

They began to turn, and that was when the female vampire leaped out behind them.

Buffy spun and fired, but as with their library target practice, her aim was off.

The bolt went wild, and the vampire grabbed the crossbow and wrenched it away from Buffy.

"Go," Faith yelled at her lover. She lunged at the female vampire as Buffy ran for the next room. The vampire grabbed her by the throat, cutting off her air supply. It hurt, but she didn't give up, even though she began to weaken from lack of oxygen. Spots danced against the pitch darkness. Her legs were on fire.

At last Faith wriggled free, though she had no idea how she managed it. She chased after Buffy, ducking into the next room, racing for their weapons bag behind the sofa.

The female vampire was right behind them, and the sofa was just another brief deterrent in her relentless pursuit of Buffy and Faith; she climbed onto it, grabbing at them over the back of it. They scuttled away, no time to get a weapon, panting and gasping.

The female vampire came around the sofa, and the Slayers backed up next to a bookcase. Still she came, and they pulled the bookcase down on her. Lots of heavy things fell on her; they would have squashed a human being. Only her head and an arm were exposed. Dazed, she grabbed for one of them.

Faith grabbed a table lamp. She slammed it down on the vampire's head over and over and over again, until the vampire's hand went limp.

"Come on," Faith said as she grabbed the bag, taking the whole thing with them.

"Good call," Buffy agreed looking at the bag. "No way are we going to be unarmed in this chamber of horrors."

They were back in the hall of the not-fun house, moving slowly out, looking around.

"Which way?" Buffy asked having no idea where to go. "Stairs or down the hall?"

"Let's finish clearing this floor before we check others," Faith suggested.

Buffy nodded and moved that way, when a whisper came to them in Surround-Sense:

"Hide and seek!"

They strained to pinpoint the whereabouts of the whisperer. They listened for footfalls, the creaking of the floor, anything to reveal the enemy.

The second time, it was louder. "Hide and seek!"

They spun, still unable to detect the source. For Buffy it was nearly impossible to hear anything over the pounding of her heart.

There was the crates again, closed. As they regarded them, approaching, Kralik leaped out like a demonic jack-in-the-box, and grabbed Faith.

Faith squirmed, fighting his grasp for all she was worth.

Kralik only smiled. "Why did you come to the dark of the wood…" he said in an obscenely intimate voice, taking the weapons bag with one hand, looking into it, "to bring all these sweets to Grandmother's house?"

He tossed the bag aside and grabbed Buffy with his other hand. His fangs glistened in the half-light, as if he were a slavering beast.

He smelled like rotten meat and his hands were ice cold.

Faith and Buffy then remembered the crosses in their pockets. They pulled them out and brandished them, holding them toward him, and he let go of them at once, hissing.

Faith moved toward the weapons bag.

Then he surprised them again, he grabbed Buffy's hand with the cross still in it. He pulled open his jumpsuit and shoved the cross against his flesh. His chest began to smoke, and he grinned lasciviously.

Then he moved her hand down just a bit to his stomach, and murmured, "A little lower. There," as if she were scratching an itch for him.

Then he moved it lower still, beaming, leering, savoring her humiliation.

Faith grabbed Buffy and jerked her lover away. They bolted away from him, racing down the hall without a second look back and throwing themselves into the kitchen. She slammed the door behind them, aware that it was very old and half-rotted, then scanned around for something, anything, they could use as a weapon. There was nothing.

"We can circle around, try and get to the bag," Faith said. "Sorry…"

"It's okay," Buffy said with a quiver in her voice. "You had tough choice to make. The bag or me. I would have done the same."

They fled through the other side of the kitchen, back into the hall, at the opposite end from the front door, under the stairs.

Anxiously, Buffy led Faith slowly toward the foot of the staircase. They climbed as fast as they could.

But he was faster. His hand burst through the rails and grabbed Buffy's ankle. One yank and she tumbled back down on top of Faith.

Faith hit her head slamming hard against a step. A white flash of pain signaled a blackout, but she came to in the next second. He was still grabbing at Buffy, snarling, but retreating as Buffy fumbled for a splintered rail and jabbed it at his face. He snarled and withdrew, giving them the space to get up.

Blood streamed down Faith's face. Hand to her head to staunch the flow, she limped up the stairs after Buffy as Kralik came around to the foot of the staircase.

"Are you okay?" Buffy asked as they stepped into the upstairs hallway, and crossed the first transom they saw.

"I miss our accelerated healing," Faith admitted.

Once inside their momentary refuge, Buffy slammed and bolted the door, knowing full well even as she did so that she was buying only seconds, if that.

The room was pitch-back, and they had no idea if anything else lurked within, if they had been herded inside so something else could do Kralik's dirty work for him. It smelled ugly in there, sour and dirty.

Faith stumbled, looking for a light. Her head was bleeding more profusely, and her forehead was on fire.

As expected, Kralik slammed with his full weight against the other side door. He was obviously trying to break through. He struck it again, using his hard-to-hurt vampire body like a battering ram.

"He's going to make it threw in as few as two or three more attempts," Buffy informed Faith.

"I wish I could tell you what we should do, but with the blood loss," Faith stated as Buffy nodded in understanding. With the blood loss, she wasn't thinking too clearly in that moment.

Suddenly Buffy's hand brushed a dangling light cord. Instantly she pulled it.

The harsh light of the suspended bare bulb illuminated the room. Dirty, sallow light revealed hundreds and hundreds of Polaroids taped to the walls.

Sickened, they saw that each one was of Joyce and Dawn, bound, gagged, terrified.

Every square inch of the walls was decorated with them.

"With the fact Dawn has the memories of her counterpart," Buffy said. "She looks just as terrified as I feel."

"Yeah," Faith agreed as they took a closer look at one of the photos. "Is that…?" she said looking at the object behind Joyce and Dawn in the picture.

"It's a boiler," Buffy said confirming Faith's suspicion. "They're in the basement."

Kralik's fist burst through the door and flailed for the bolt to get in. There was another door on the other side of the room; Buffy and Faith took the escape route and ran back into the hall, most definitely the rat in the maze… pursued by a velociraptor.

To one side was a laundry chute. The other led back downstairs, and they headed that way.

The monster stepped into their path, grabbing at them again. His fun-and-games smile had disappeared.

"If you stray from the path, you will lose your way," he told them.

Then he went to bear down on Buffy's neck while Faith searched for anything she could use as a weapon to free her girl. As he positioned his mouth over Buffy, he whispered urgently, "I won't take it all. I won't take it all."

Then he reared back roaring, and clutching his head. He was in terrible agony; they didn't understand it, but they didn't plan to stick around and find out what was going on.

"Come on," Faith said heading for the laundry chute.

He fumbled in the pocket of his jumpsuit and pulled out a bottle of pills. He was in such pain that his hands were shaking, making it difficult to open the bottle.

'Weapon,' Buffy thought instinctually. She darted forward and grabbed the bottle. His fury was immediate, uncontrollable; and she raced after Faith with the bottle grasped like a life ring, flinging herself into the laundry chute.

He barreled after them as they shot down.

Mercifully, Kralik was too big to fit through the chute. He was screaming with frustration, rage, and pain. Faith slammed down onto the ground and rolled out of the way as Buffy came down after her.

"What did you grab?" Faith asked.

Buffy held up his pills. "He'll come for them. We have only a few seconds to get out of here."

Then they heard Joyce and Dawn's voices, very muffled.

"Buffy? Faith?"

Buffy and Faith looked up. Joyce and Dawn were tied to a chair, and they were bruised and bloodied. Their eyes were huge, but the flesh around them was swollen.

Buffy growled in anger. "He hurt my mother and my sister." In that moment, she felt the tide turn. All her fear transformed into a rage surpassing Kralik's. "Nobody hurts my family. Nobody."

"Buffy… Faith, we have to get—" Dawn started.

Faith put her fingers to Dawn's lips. She glanced toward her lover. "Find a weapon, while I try and free them."

Buffy nodded in agreement as she looked around for a weapon, and a thought began to crystallize.

0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0

The basement door was blown off its hinges by the force of Kralik's blow. He half-threw himself down the stairs, shrieking, "Where are they? Where are they?"

He was dazed with pain; therefore, twice as lethal. He crashed into the cellar, talking quick stock. He looked slightly relieved upon seeing Joyce and Dawn still tied up, though Faith was working on the ropes trying to loosen them.

Buffy tried to slip by him, but he grabbed her, throwing her hard against the wall. He pulled the pills from her fingers and ripped off the top, pouring them into his mouth. His water glass was on a stool, full, and he washed his medication down.

His pain subsided almost immediately. Then he turned to Buffy, who stood watching expectantly, hopefully.

"You two don't seem to understand your places in all of this," he said. "Do you have any idea—"

Then he stopped, sudden pain wrenching his gut. He was still holding the glass and the bottle of pills as he stared uncomprehendingly at Buffy.

"Oh, my," he breathed. "What did you… my pills…"

Very calmly, Buffy held up a small, and now empty, container.

Of holy water.

Kralik's eyes went wide. They bulged as he looked down at his body. His stomach smoked and sizzled, eaten away from the inside. Then his entire frame began to tremble and crack.

Savoring his imminent defeat, Faith said to him, "If my girl was at full Slayer power, she'd be punning right about now."

Then Kralik exploded. It was beyond a dusting. It was total annihilation.

Buffy stared her deadpan warrior stare at the space where he used to be. A moment later, she dropped to Joyce's side and tried to untie her.

"Buffy… Faith, thank God you both are okay," Joyce said as her gag was removed. "Oh, that man…"

"Faith?" Buffy said looking at her lover who shook her head. "We can't get these," she confessed, frustrated. "They're too tight."

"Can't either of you just—?"

"Sorry, Mrs. S.," Faith said sadly. "It's a long story. We'll tell you later." She looked at Buffy. "Maybe there's something we can cut them with."

Buffy nodded in agreement as she moved away… and the female vampire, the one they'd knocked out underneath the bookcase, shadowed her, looking pissed.

"Buffy!" Dawn cried.

As Buffy spun, the vampire made her attack—and was tackled from the side by none other than Giles.

Watcher and vampire flew like projectiles, crashing into a tool shelf. The vampire got his footing first and turned on Giles, punching him with jaw-snapping force.

Rushing to Giles's aid, Buffy and Faith looked around for a weapon. Before they could locate one, a stake popped out of the vampire's back. Giles had done the deed himself.

The vampire dusted. Buffy and Faith figured he had just joined Zackary Kralik in hell, where they belonged.

The Slayers stared at Giles, and he back at them. They couldn't read his expression, and they had no idea if he could tell what they were thinking.

Sunnydale High School

There was far more hostility in Buffy and Faith's stare as Quentin Travers of the Watchers Council of Britain said to them, "Congratulations. You both passed."

They were in the library—Buffy, Faith, Dawn and Giles and the idiot from England.

Faith sat at the table, Buffy pressing a wet cloth against the deep gash on her forehead.

Nobody looked like the hills were alive.

"You both exhibited extraordinary courage and clear-headedness in battle. The Council is very pleased."

Dawn glared at him. "Do they both get a gold star?"

He was barely perturbed. "I understand that you're upset—"

"You understand nothing," Dawn snapped at him. "You set those monsters loose and he came after me and our mother."

"You think the test was unfair?"

Dawn was rendered speechless by the man's unbelievable callousness.

Finally, Faith said, in a very dangerous tone. "I think you'd better leave town before Buffy or I get our strength back."

And still he persisted, either unaware or disinterested in how he was being received. "We're not in the business of 'fair,' Miss Lehane."

"Summers," Faith corrected. "It's not official of course but the way I see it, eventually it will be."

"Very well, Miss Summers. We're fighting a war."

Giles spoke up then. "You're waging a war. They're fighting it. There is a difference."

Quentin looked mildly put out. "Mr. Giles, if you don't mind—"

"The test is done. We're finished," Giles said firmly.

"Not quite," Quentin cut in. "They passed. You didn't."

Giles fell silent, and Buffy, Faith and Dawn had no idea what to say.

Quentin continued: "The Slayer isn't the only one who must perform in this situation. I have recommended to the Council, and they have agreed, that you be relieved of your duties as Watcher effectively immediately. You're fired."

Giles finally said, "On what grounds?"

"First, your affection for your charges has rendered you incapable of clear and impartial judgment. You have a father's love for them, and that is useless to the cause. Second you failed to notify the Council that you identified a Potential."

It took Buffy and Faith a moment to absorb the truth of what Travers said, that Giles cared for them and Dawn.

Giles would not look at the three of them. It was his British way.

"It would be best if you had no further contact with the Slayer," the older Council member added.

"I'm not going anywhere," Giles announced.

"No, well, I didn't expect you to adhere to that. However, if you interfere with the new Watcher or countermand his authority in any way, you'll be dealt with. Are we clear?"

And Rupert Giles, who had once been dubbed "Ripper," gave Quentin Travers a deadly expression and said, "We're very clear."

Quentin said to Buffy and Faith, "Congratulations again."

Buffy, Faith and Dawn all raised their chins and in unison said, "Bite me."

"Yes. Well." Quentin threw a look at Giles, and walked out.

Silence took the place of words as Watcher, Slayers and Potential stayed where they were, a tableau of unspoken rushes of words. Buffy put the washcloth to Faith's gash and watched her girlfriend wince. "Sorry," she apologized.

Giles moved to beside them, instinctively, tenderly. "May I?" he said as they all looked up at him; there was more silence, and then Buffy handed him the rag.

"Is what he said, true?" Dawn wondered.

"Yes," Giles answered as he tended lovingly—paternally—to Faith, and she allowed it. "On both."

Dawn nodded as she looked at Buffy, the one person she knew who had not had a father-figure since the divorce. She wondered if she could talk her mother into picking up a fifth ticket for the ice show.


Author's Note: The passage about Faith being a cheerleader came from the Faith prequel novel 'Go Ask Malice' by Robert Joseph Levy.