Chapter 10: Wrestling with Demons Part 1
March 4, 2002 – Monday
Halliwell Manor
In a flurry of urgency, Faith dashed into the bathroom, the sound of running water soon filling the air. With swift efficiency, she completed her shower, feeling the press of time against her. Hurriedly stepping out, droplets of water still clinging to her skin, she dressed in a haste, her focus solely on the upcoming event. The clothes she donned were chosen with little concern for fashion or style; their only purpose was to be removed soon after.
Grabbing a short, mid-thigh robe, she bundled it into a compact backpack. Faith's departure from the house was swift, her senses attuned to the ticking clock. She had responded to a newspaper ad, a decision driven by a mix of curiosity and the desire for extra income. With four powerful witches and Buffy in the household, expenses had soared, particularly the food bill, and she felt the weight of contributing to the shared expenses.
As she stepped out of the house, her thoughts raced ahead, hoping that her speed would prevent her from being late.
University of California, Berkeley
Bursting into the bustling Arts building, Faith's heart raced as she navigated the corridors, searching for the designated room. Her footsteps echoed through the halls, and she breathed a sigh of relief upon finding the room relatively unoccupied, save for a handful of students and the presence of the Art professor. Grateful for the small audience, she felt a glimmer of reassurance.
Guided by the professor, Faith was led to a designated area where she could prepare for the upcoming class. With a sense of urgency, she swiftly shed her clothes, feeling a mix of vulnerability and anticipation building within her. Slipping into the mid-thigh robe, she tightened the fabric around her, finding a semblance of comfort in its embrace.
Summoning her inner strength, Faith took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for the moment that awaited her. As she stepped into the room, her gaze deliberately averted from the faces of the students, determined to shield herself from recognizing anyone she might know. Focusing on the task at hand, she let the robe gracefully slide off her shoulders, delicately catching it in her hands. Placing the robe on a nearby stool, she settled herself upon it, her back turned to the class, finding solace in the fixed gaze upon the wall ahead.
San Francisco Police Station
Inspector Darryl Morris entered the dimly lit room, his footsteps echoing against the tiled floor. He carried a steaming cup of coffee, its rich aroma wafting through the air as he approached the table. Seated across from him was Mr. Chang, a man whose life had been unexpectedly thrust into the crosshairs of danger, as Phoebe had foreseen.
Perplexed and visibly concerned, Mr. Chang leaned forward, his gaze locked with Darryl's. His voice tinged with a mix of disbelief and apprehension, he posed the haunting question, "I don't get it. Who'd want to kill me?"
Darryl, his tone empathetic yet resolute, responded, "We're not sure, but our sources have reason to believe that your life is in imminent danger. We're offering you protective custody—"
Interrupting, Mr. Chang's skepticism seeped into his words, "Our sources? Are you implying some sort of government surveillance? Do you have people watching my every move?"
Seeking to clarify, Darryl leaned back, his weariness evident. "Mr. Chang, your picture appeared in the Metro section today."
With a touch of frustration, Mr. Chang retorted, "Because I planted some trees."
Exhaling a sigh, Darryl attempted to shed light on the gravity of the situation. "Mr. Chang, there have been four brutal murders in the past week. The only common thread is that each victim's photograph appeared in the Metro section on the day they were killed."
Mr. Chang's eyes widened in disbelief. "The mayor's in Metro today. Are you guys harassing him too?"
Firmly but compassionately, Darryl met Mr. Chang's gaze. "Mr. Chang, please understand that I am here to help you. We are trying to prevent a tragedy."
Expressing his innocence and confusion, Mr. Chang pleaded, "I don't have any money, I don't have any enemies. Why would anyone want to kill me? This is crazy."
0 – 0 – 0 – 0 – 0
In a secluded corner outside the room, Prue, Piper, and Phoebe engaged in a hushed conversation, their faces etched with concern. The weight of the situation hung heavily upon them as they contemplated the possible outcomes if Inspector Darryl Morris failed to persuade Mr. Chang to take protective measures.
Prue took charge, her voice steady but laced with urgency, as she posed the crucial question, "Alright, what do we do if Darryl can't convince him to lay low?"
Phoebe, her spirit reinvigorated and a hint of mischief dancing in her eyes, replied with conviction, "Oh, well, we follow him, and if a demon dares to attack, we'll unleash our wiccan powers and kick some serious ass."
Piper couldn't help but smile at her sister's newfound determination. "Look who's back and badder than ever."
Phoebe's voice brimmed with confidence as she responded, "It feels good to be back. It's the best way to put this whole Cole thing behind me."
Prue, observing the change in her sister's demeanor, remarked, "Well, that's quite a turnaround."
Puzzled, Phoebe inquired, "What do you mean?"
Prue elaborated, "It's just that, until last week, you were somewhat withdrawn, showing little interest in the demonic aspects of our lives. But now..."
Phoebe's smile widened as she interrupted, "I am back. Bad guys beware."
Piper, with a hint of exasperation, interjected, "And too bad we don't know who the bad guy is."
Phoebe concurred, her tone tinged with frustration, "Yeah, well, at least we know who his next victim is." Just then, Darryl emerged from the room, accompanied by Mr. Chang.
Prue greeted Darryl as he approached them. "Hey."
Returning the greeting, Darryl sighed, his weariness apparent. "Hey."
"So, did you get anything out of him?" Prue inquired.
Darryl's expression turned grim as he responded, "Just a migraine. That's about it."
Piper's voice carried a hint of disbelief, "So, what, you're just going to let him go?"
Darryl's tone was resigned as he replied, "I don't have a choice. He declined protection." He glanced over at Phoebe. "Phoebe, are you sure he's the guy you saw being attacked in your premonition?"
Phoebe's conviction never wavered as she confirmed, "Oh, yeah, and it happened at night too. We can't just let him go."
Prue, ever the strategist, took charge, suggesting, "Alright, then we need to split up into teams. The first one to spot a demon yells 'vanquish.' Come on." With determination in their eyes, she and Darryl trailed behind Mr. Chang as they left the police station and entered a dimly lit alley. Prue couldn't help but express her frustration, "Ugh, innocents and alleys. Don't they ever learn?"
Darryl, understanding the risks, agreed with a nod. "Yeah, I know. Come on."
Their attention was suddenly seized as a figure emerged from the far corner, hurling a fiery projectile at Mr. Chang. Reacting swiftly, Prue employed her powers, deflecting the fireball away from its intended target.
Startled, Mr. Chang exclaimed, "What the hell?" His gaze darted around, searching for the source of the disturbance.
Prue went to use her powers on the demon himself. She stopped herself as she recognized the demon who ran away.
Darryl, questioning the turn of events, asked urgently, "What happened? Why did you let him get away?"
Prue's voice carried a mix of shock and recognition as she explained, "I know that demon. I dated that demon. That's Dawn's father!"
University of California, Berkeley
Buffy placed all her supplies within easy reach, lining them up as she'd learned to be able to find what she wanted without looking. Having become more familiar with the process the more classes she attended, Buffy never looked up as the model walked to the front of the class, knowing it would still be another minute or so before they were settled and class would begin. Subconsciously noting the model's choice, Buffy re-adjusted for the fact that the model chose the stool to start off with, as opposed to the futon on the raised platform.
"All right class, let's begin. I want to see forms taking shape, muscle tone…" The professor droned on as Buffy subconsciously tuned out the talk, having listened to the professor saying the same thing every week, and chose a charcoal to start with before looking up at the model. She quickly scrutinized the… woman, deciding on where to start, she brought charcoal to paper.
Buffy sat at the easel, charcoal streaking her cheek where she'd brushed her hair back off her face. She glanced up at the live model again before placing charcoal back to paper. She'd already drawn a few different poses before looking at the clock, realizing that class was half over and she'd still yet to draw the model's face having been somewhat entranced by the body.
Looking up to the face of the model Buffy gasped. "Faith!"
Faith's eyes snapped open upon hearing a familiar voice. Her eyes searching the faces until they locked on wide shocked green ones. Faith smiled at her girlfriend. "Hey, Buffy, I didn't know you were in this class."
An hour later Buffy had been drawing Faith with fervor when the professor said, "That's it for tonight class. I want to see this week's drawings fleshed out a bit next week, they look good so far from what I've seen. See you next week." The professor headed back towards Faith, thanking her for coming in and offering her more sittings if she wanted them as she handed her the envelope with the money for sitting tonight.
Faith grabbed her robe and put it on, then she walked to Buffy. "Miss me?"
"Like you wouldn't know," said Buffy as she leaned over and kissed Faith. "This was a surprise. So, what are you doing here? I mean…"
"Why am I posing nude for your art class?" said Faith. "Making a little side money to throw in to the food bill at home. After all there are six of us living in the Manor. And since they are renovating the basement for us. I thought I would try and make some extra money to help out."
Buffy smiled as she kissed Faith again.
As their lips parted, Buffy's eyes sparkled with admiration for Faith's resourcefulness. "You never cease to amaze me, Faith. Your determination to contribute and help out is truly remarkable."
Faith shrugged casually, a playful grin on her face. "Hey, got to do what I can, right? Plus, it's not every day I get to be the muse for your artistry." She glanced around the room, noticing the other students packing up their supplies. "Looks like we better gather our things and head out too."
Buffy nodded, reluctantly tearing her gaze away from Faith's captivating presence. She carefully gathered her sketches, some showing remarkable progress, and secured them in a folder. With a contented sigh, she closed her art pad and placed it alongside her other materials.
As they walked out of the art studio, the bustling hallways of the campus greeted them with a mix of voices and laughter. Buffy couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of inspiration and creativity. Having Faith by her side, both as her girlfriend and artistic subject, added an extra layer of excitement to her artistic journey.
"So, how was it for you?" Buffy asked, genuinely curious about Faith's experience as the model.
Faith chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Well, I got to admit, it was a bit nerve-wracking at first. But once I settled in and saw you drawing, it felt surprisingly empowering. And let's not forget the paycheck – definitely a nice bonus."
Buffy grinned, linking her arm with Faith's as they strolled through the campus. "I'm glad it turned out to be a positive experience for you. Who knows, maybe we'll have more unconventional adventures like this in the future."
Faith leaned in; her voice filled with playful anticipation. "Count me in, B. I'm always up for new experiences, especially if they involve spending time with you."
They continued their leisurely walk, savoring the companionship and the promise of new artistic endeavors. With Faith's unexpected appearance and their shared passion for embracing life's surprises, Buffy couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of wonder and excitement for the adventures that awaited them, both in the art world and beyond.
Streets of San Francisco
During the drive home, a comfortable silence enveloped Buffy and Faith, the soft hum of the car providing a soothing backdrop to their thoughts.
Faith turned her gaze towards Buffy, a mischievous grin slowly spreading across her face. "You know, B," she began, her voice carrying a hint of playfulness, "posing for your art class got me thinking. What if I posed for you more often? In our own private sessions."
Buffy's eyes widened in surprise, her grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly. She glanced at Faith, her cheeks flushed with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty. "Are you serious?"
Faith nodded; her tone laced with genuine sincerity. "Absolutely. I know how much you love art, and it could be something intimate and special just between us. Plus, it could give you more opportunities to explore your talent and capture our moments together."
A rush of emotions coursed through Buffy's veins, her heart fluttering with a mix of desire and admiration for Faith's proposition. The idea of having Faith as a muse in the privacy of their own bedroom was both tantalizing and deeply personal.
"I would love that," Buffy finally responded, her voice filled with affection. "To have you as my inspiration, to sketch the curves of your body and the depth of your soul, it would be an incredible gift."
Faith's smile widened, her eyes sparkling with affectionate reassurance. "Good. Because, you know, I'm all about exploring new dimensions of our relationship, pushing boundaries and creating something unique together."
As the car rolled to a stop at a red light, Buffy leaned over and planted a tender kiss on Faith's lips.
March 5, 2002 – Tuesday
Dr. Janice Green's Office
The morning sunlight streamed through the window, casting a warm glow on the comfortable office space where Buffy and Faith sat. The soft, golden rays seemed to embrace them, offering a sense of warmth and hope amidst the challenges they faced. Buffy found solace in the plush cushions of the couch, her body sinking into the softness as she settled herself across from Janice, her psychologist. Faith's presence beside her further comforted her, offering a reassuring touch of support and understanding.
"Hi, Janice," Buffy greeted softly, her voice carrying a mixture of vulnerability and determination. The office felt like a safe haven, a place where she could open up and share her thoughts without judgment. Adjusting her posture, she found a sense of comfort in the familiar setting, a place where she had embarked on a journey of healing.
Janice met her gaze with a kind smile, her eyes filled with compassion. "Morning, Buffy, Faith. It's good to see you both. Please, tell me what's been happening in your life since our last session, Buffy."
Buffy took a deep breath, centering herself before speaking. "As I mentioned, I've been focusing on a significant project. In addition to returning to college, I've been planning to reopen my birth mom's gallery."
The room seemed to hold its breath as Buffy shared her intentions, the weight of her words hanging in the air. Janice leaned forward, her expression one of genuine interest and support, encouraging Buffy to continue.
"Reopening the gallery is important to me," Buffy continued, her voice steady, yet her heart fluttered with emotions. "It's not just about preserving my birth mom's artistic legacy, but also about reclaiming a piece of her that was taken away too soon."
Faith nodded, her gaze filled with understanding and admiration for Buffy's resilience. She knew the significance of this endeavor for Buffy and stood by her side, ready to offer her unwavering support.
Janice nodded, her empathetic eyes mirroring Buffy's emotions. "I can imagine how meaningful this project is for you, Buffy. It's a way to honor your birth mom's memory and connect with a part of your identity. Can you tell me more about it?"
Buffy's eyes lit up as she recalled the recent events. "Well, I found a space early last month and got everything set up and ready for its first showing. The day before the official grand opening, Faith, hidden behind a glamour spell that my adopted mom, Prue, had cast, came in pretending to look for an art piece. We looked around the gallery together, and in time, Faith dispelled the glamour and revealed herself to me."
Faith leaned in closer, intertwining her fingers with Buffy's. "Buffy had offered me the position of manager a few days before, and when I dispelled the glamour, it was to the shock of my lovely girlfriend. I told her that I accepted the position, hoping to support her dreams. That way, she would have free time to see you, attend her college courses, and help her adoptive family battle the demons they fight as needed."
Janice listened attentively, noting the love and support shared between Buffy and Faith. She could sense the depth of their connection and the unwavering commitment they had for one another. A smile touched her lips, as she realized that this project was not only about honoring Joyce's memory but also about forging a bright future filled with love and understanding.
Janice's smile grew as she witnessed the genuine bond between Buffy and Faith. Their unwavering support for each other was evident, and it warmed her heart. She leaned back in her chair, taking a moment to appreciate the resilience and growth they had achieved since their last session.
"Your dedication to reopening the gallery and supporting each other is truly inspiring, Buffy and Faith," Janice remarked, her voice filled with genuine admiration. The warm timbre of her voice mingled with the sunlight filtering into the room, creating an atmosphere of hope and understanding. "It's clear that this project holds deep meaning for both of you, not only as a tribute to your birth mom, Buffy, but also as a testament to the strength of your relationship."
Buffy's gratitude shone brightly in her eyes, a glimmer of hope piercing through the remnants of grief. She nodded, her voice carrying a mixture of determination and vulnerability. "Thank you, Janice. It hasn't been easy, but we truly believe it's worth it. My mom... she had this incredible knack for running the gallery. I remember how passionate she was about finding new pieces, about showcasing unique and inspiring artworks. She would go on these buying trips, and when she returned, there was always a spark of excitement in her eyes."
Faith, her voice gentle yet resolute, interlaced her fingers with Buffy's, offering unwavering support. Her presence was a pillar of strength, grounding Buffy in the profound connection they shared. "I may not have known Mrs. S. as well as Buffy did, having only met her a few times before my own journey took a different path. But I wish I had the chance to know her better. From everything Buffy has shared with me, she was an exceptional woman, full of warmth and grace."
Janice's empathetic gaze shifted between the two, taking in their intertwined hands and the unspoken bond that fortified their resolve. The delicate sunlight danced on her face, highlighting the depth of her understanding. "It's evident that your mother's spirit continues to resonate within both of you. The gallery reopening is not just a tribute, but a way to honor her memory and carry forward her legacy. It's a beautiful endeavor, one that will touch the lives of many."
Halliwell Manor
In the conservatory, Phoebe and Darryl sat at the table while Phoebe pored over the Book of Shadows, searching for any relevant information.
Darryl observed Piper watering the plants, a concerned expression on his face. "I think they're lost, Piper," he said, his voice filled with empathy. "Dead."
Piper, her mind preoccupied, defended the plants. "No, they're not completely," she objected, her words slightly rushed.
"Piper waters when she's nervous," Phoebe chimed in, her tone filled with amusement, revealing her deep familiarity with her sister's habits.
Darryl nodded, acknowledging Phoebe's remark. "There's nothing to be nervous about," he reassured. "Mr. Chang is in protective custody."
Piper let out a sigh, her anxiety bubbling beneath the surface. "It's not him," she confessed. "It's the whole 'Dawn's father is a demon' thing. It hits a nerve with all of us, and obviously I'm not that upset because I'm with Leo, who obviously is not..."
"Piper also babbles when she's nervous," Phoebe interjected, playfully teasing her sister.
Piper shot Phoebe a playful glare. "I resent that," she said with a hint of a smile. "I am expressing a valid concern about this continuing issue in our lives."
Prue joined them, carrying a yearbook in her hands. "What are you babbling about?" she asked, intrigued by their conversation, while Phoebe chuckled.
"You know, if I could freeze the two of you, I would, often," Piper remarked, her tone lighthearted yet tinged with affectionate exasperation.
Prue opened the yearbook, revealing a picture of the demon they were seeking. "Alright, so here's the demon we're looking for, or at least who he used to be. Tom Peters," she stated, her voice filled with a mix of nostalgia and determination.
"Wait, I didn't know you dated the captain of the college football team. How suburban," Phoebe teased, her words infused with playful curiosity.
Prue's expression turned more somber. "Yeah, he was a great guy," she reminisced. "If he hadn't been..."
"Dawn wouldn't be here now," Phoebe finished her sister's thought, her understanding shining through.
Darryl chimed in, sharing his knowledge. "I remember Peters. He blew out his knee three weeks into his rookie year, about five, six years ago," he said. "Rumors about gambling debts and that whole scene. He's also a missing person. It never got closed. He just kind of disappeared."
"Leo!" Prue called out.
"More like went underground," Phoebe suggested, her mind piecing together the fragments of the puzzle.
"I wonder if his mom still lives in town," Prue pondered aloud, her mind already formulating a plan. She headed towards the kitchen, determined to find answers.
"A woman on a mission?" Darryl asked, admiring Prue's determination.
"Mmm hmm," Phoebe affirmed, sharing her sister's drive to uncover the truth.
"I guess the captain of the football team was a bigger deal than we ever knew," Piper said as she, Phoebe, and Darryl followed Prue into the kitchen. "Uh, Prue, are you sure we should pursue this?"
"You mean saving Dawn's father?" asked Prue.
"Are you sure he's her father?" Piper asked.
"Yeah I'm sure. Andy and I broke up not long after graduation. I hadn't been with anyone else till Tom," answered Prue. "Where on earth is..." it was then that Leo orbed in. "Leo, what took you so long? Leo!" she called out again.
Leo orbed in, appearing slightly preoccupied. "Hi," he greeted, offering a quick kiss to Piper. "I had... have a situation."
Piper's voice brimmed with concern. "Uh-oh, you mean an 'us' situation or a 'you' situation?" she asked, her worry tinged with a touch of playful banter. "Oh, don't tell me they've changed their minds about us getting married because if that is the case, then you can just orb me up there right now and..."
"Babbling," Phoebe interjected, teasing her sister once again.
Leo shook his head, trying to explain. "It has nothing to do with them. It has to do with me. I sort of, kind of, lost the wedding ring," he confessed, a tinge of guilt evident in his voice.
Darryl couldn't help but chime in with a humorous remark. "Got a great ring guy downtown if you need one," he offered, lightening the tension in the room.
"Mom!" Buffy's voice rang out, echoing through the house.
"In the kitchen, Buffy," Prue called back, her attention focused on the task at hand.
"He doesn't need one, he has a ring," Piper clarified, her tone filled with affectionate exasperation. "Mom's ring. I gave it to him so he could give it back to me at the perfect romantic moment."
Phoebe's playful remark took a more serious turn. "Wow, Leo, you lost Mom's ring," she said, her voice carrying a hint of concern as Buffy and Faith joined them. "It's a good thing you're dead already."
"Leo lost Grandma Patty's ring?" said Buffy as Piper nodded.
Leo's expression displayed remorse, his eyes reflecting genuine regret. "I had it in my pocket, Piper," he explained, his voice filled with remorse. "All the orbing in and out..."
Piper's voice turned stern as she issued a warning. "Your orbs are grass if you do not find that ring," she told him, her words carrying a mixture of playfulness and genuine concern.
"I'm glad I'm not you, Leo," Faith chimed in, her voice filled with lighthearted teasing.
Amidst the banter and concern, Prue redirected the conversation to their primary mission. "Alright, hi. Before blood is spilled, can I just ask a business question?" she interjected, her voice commanding attention. "Is it possible to turn a human into a demon?"
Leo, ever the source of knowledge, offered his insights. "Well, there are rumors, stories about demons recruiting humans," he explained, his voice filled with authority. "So, join the evil and see the underworld?"
Phoebe's curiosity sparked as she contemplated the implications. "Kind of," she responded, her voice tinged with intrigue. "Apparently, the demons go after humans in need and strike your classic Faustian deal. But then the humans are forced into this training academy, a program that destroys their humanity."
Piper's realization cut through the conversation. "And turns them into demons," she concluded, her voice tinged with both concern and determination.
Leo confirmed her suspicions. "Right, and when the recruits graduate, they have to kill an innocent to seal the demonic conversion permanently," he clarified, his tone weighted with the gravity of the situation.
Darryl drew a parallel, offering his insight. "It's like gang initiation," he interjected, his voice filled with understanding. "You go out and kill the first person that you see, and you're in the gang."
Phoebe connected the dots, her tone filled with realization. "Well, that explains your four random killings," she said, a mix of understanding and concern in her voice. "Maybe it's graduation time at the academy."
Prue, driven by her determination to save Dawn's father, reassured them. "Well, if it is, Tom is one human they're not going to demonize," she declared, her voice carrying conviction.
Phoebe's concern resurfaced as she questioned the timeline. "Prue, how do you know we're not too late?" she asked, her voice filled with worry. "I mean, if we didn't get there on time and stop him..."
Prue's response carried a glimmer of hope. "He would have killed an innocent, and then it would have been too late. But we did stop him, so now we still have time to save him," she explained, her words laced with determination and resolve. "Alright, I'm going to talk to Tom's mother, see if she knows anything. Maybe you two could come up with, like, a spell to find him or something."
Buffy, who had been listening attentively, finally spoke up. "Whose Tom?" she asked, seeking answers.
Prue turned to Piper, prompting her to reveal the truth. "You tell her," she said as she headed for the front door, leaving the responsibility in her sister's hands.
Piper took a deep breath, preparing to share a piece of their shared history. "It appears that Tom is Dawn's biological father," she disclosed, her voice carrying a mix of compassion and empathy.
Faith, who had been listening silently, interjected, understanding the weight of the situation. "That explains the conversation," she remarked, her voice filled with understanding and empathy. "She's trying to save him for Dawn's sake."
Kellman's Office
In a dimly lit room, Tom Peters stood silently, observing as Kellman, a menacing figure, interrogated another recruit. The air was thick with tension, and the recruit pleaded desperately for a chance to rectify his mistakes.
"Mr. Kellman, I swear I can make this right, I swear," the recruit pleaded, his voice laced with fear and desperation.
Kellman's voice dripped with cold authority as he responded, his tone unforgiving. "I was clear, wasn't I? I make your problems go away, and you owe me. Now, did you forget about the last part of the deal?"
The recruit stammered, attempting to buy more time. "I-I can pay you back. I just need more time."
Kellman shook his head, his expression filled with disdain. "More time? You don't have any more time. Your debt is due and payable now."
Desperation consumed the recruit's voice as he pleaded, willing to do anything to escape his fate. "Please, I'll do anything."
With a flick of his hand, Kellman conjured elevator doors on a previously blank wall, revealing a sinister passage. "Oh, yes, you will. Come on," he commanded, forcefully pushing the recruit into the elevator, which closed behind him. Kellman then turned his attention to Tom, his gaze penetrating. "Now, I don't have to go over all this again with you too, Tom, do I?"
Tom's posture stiffened, acknowledging his own misstep. "Temporary setback, Mr. Kellman. It won't happen again," he admitted, a mix of apprehension and determination in his voice.
Kellman let out a sigh, his frustration evident. "You know, you're not the only one exposed here. You have a contract with me, and I have a contract with the Source. Five full graduates by tomorrow night. Now, all the others have made their kills. What's the problem?"
Tom shared the details of the unexpected interference. "A witch intervened," he explained, his voice tinged with both annoyance and uncertainty.
Kellman's brow furrowed as he regarded Tom, his voice filled with disbelief. "What? A witch? How the hell did that happen?"
Tom shook his head, unable to provide a clear answer. "I don't know, but I wasn't followed," he admitted. "I used every safeguard I learned in the academy."
Realization dawned on Kellman's face as he contemplated their predicament. "Well, she must be tracking the innocent. We'll have to get you another one, but we're running out of time here," he stated, his tone laced with urgency. He picked up a newspaper, his eyes scanning the pages. "Just kill this one, but do it fast, or else there'll be hell to pay."
Peters' Residence
Mrs. Peters sat across from Prue, her eyes filled with a mix of nostalgia and concern. As she gazed at Prue, memories of her son's athletic prowess resurfaced, leaving a faint smile on her lips. "He was so fast," she reminisced, her voice tinged with a hint of pride. "His coach said he could have run track too, but all Tom cares about is football."
Prue maintained a sympathetic expression, concealing the truth about her relationship with Tom and her role as a grandmother. She wanted to focus on finding a way to save him before sharing the news with Mrs. Peters. Expressing her curiosity, she inquired, "I am sorry that we lost touch, but, um, what happened after he got hurt?"
A flicker of sadness crossed Mrs. Peters' face as she recalled those difficult times. "He was depressed. I understood," she replied, her voice filled with empathy.
Seeking clarity on the rumors surrounding Tom's troubles, Prue cautiously asked, "So, the stories that I heard about his being in trouble..."
Mrs. Peters let out a tired sigh, dispelling any doubts. "The gambling rumors? Don't believe a word of it," she asserted. "No one ever came to me looking for money, and Mr. Kellman would have told me if there was a problem."
Curiosity piqued; Prue sought further information. "Mr. Kellman?" she inquired, her tone indicating her unfamiliarity with the name.
"He was his business manager," Mrs. Peters explained, a sense of gratitude evident in her voice. "He took such good care of Tom, and he was a wonderful help to me after Tom went away."
Thoughts swirled in Prue's mind as she tried to piece together the puzzle. Turning her attention back to Mrs. Peters, she asked, "Mrs. Peters, what do you think happened?"
With unwavering faith in her son, Mrs. Peters responded, her voice filled with unwavering conviction. "I think Tom has some things to take care of, and he'll be home when he can," she said, her words carrying a mother's unshakeable belief. "I know it in my heart. My son's a good man."
Halliwell Manor
Buffy and Faith sat together, their eyes fixed on Phoebe and Piper as they prepared for a magical ritual. The room was adorned with flickering candlelight, casting a soft glow that added an air of mystique. The sisters chanted the incantation, their voices intertwining with the gentle flickering of the flames. "Guiding spirits I ask your charity, lend me your focus and clarity. Lead me to the one I cannot find, restore that and my peace of mind."
Prue entered the room, curiosity etched on her face as she observed the scene. "Hey, what's all this?"
Phoebe swiftly extinguished the candle, trying to downplay their intentions. "Oh, we were just trying to locate Tom, you know, with a little spell we came up with," she explained.
Piper, ever the realist, corrected Phoebe's claim. "You came up with."
Prue raised an eyebrow, surprised at the speed with which they had concocted the ritual. " "Wow, you came up with the whole ritual that fast?"
"Actually, not as fast as you would think," Piper said as Phoebe kicked her under the table.
"Well, thank you," said Prue as she smiled at her sisters. "I really appreciate you guys doing this for me and for Dawn."
"She didn't exactly do it for you," Piper said. "Or for Dawn."
Phoebe, eager to change the subject, swiftly redirected the conversation. "What did Tom's mother say?"
"Poor lady," Prue sighed. "She speaks of Tom as if he's only been gone for a week, not six years. And she genuinely believes he's coming back."
Faith interjected, seeking clarification. "Based on...?"
"Faith, you know the religious type of faith, not you know you, Faith," Prue clarified. "Anyways I would like to prove her right. For hers and Dawn's sakes."
Phoebe reassured Prue, emphasizing their commitment. "We're doing everything we can," she said earnestly.
Prue took a moment to reflect on their shared history of saving troubled individuals. "Yeah, and you know what?" she said with a glimmer of hope. "We've saved bad boys before. Remember the priest with the warlock brothers?"
Piper, however, voiced a note of caution. "Yeah, but Prue, he wanted to be saved," she countered. "Can we guarantee the same about Tom or any other demon-human mix...?"
Phoebe swiftly intervened, sensing the tension rising. "This is not about Cole, okay? That's a whole other subject."
Buffy, keenly observing the exchange, noticed the truth lingering beneath Piper's words, a truth only she, Dawn and Phoebe had been aware of until now.
Piper acknowledged the underlying matter, affirming its importance. "One worth discussing," she added cryptically.
Confusion tinged Prue's voice as she tried to piece together the puzzle. "Am I missing something here?"
Piper hesitated for a moment before answering, "Yes..."
Phoebe, eager to redirect their focus, steered the conversation back to Tom. "Yes, actually, we are missing Tom, and he's someone we should continue talking about," she emphasized. "So, if this spell works and we actually find him, what do we do? Do we vanquish him?"
Buffy's voice resonated with compassion and determination for her sister. "If he is Dawn's father, we can't. We have to save him, for her sake."
Suddenly, a loud bang echoed from the front door, drawing their attention. "I'll get it." Faith headed towards the foyer to investigate. Moments later, she returned, holding a newspaper in her hands. She handed it to Prue, who furrowed her brow as she examined the contents.
"Since when do they deliver newspapers in the afternoon?" Prue wondered aloud, flipping through the pages and realizing that all the pictures were missing.
Buffy leaned in, peering over Prue's shoulder, her curiosity piqued. "Since they started taking out all the pictures," she mused.
Phoebe couldn't help but admire the effectiveness of their spell. "Wow, it's a pretty cool spell if I do say so myself," she commented.
Prue, however, remained focused on the task at hand. "Yeah, except what is it telling us?" she pondered.
Buffy took the newspaper from Prue and continued flipping through it until she stumbled upon a picture of a woman in the Metro section. Her eyes widened as she read aloud, "How about this? Claudia Gibson will discuss the mayor's position on Net News Live today at 2:00. Which is ten minutes ago."
Piper chimed in with a hint of excitement, "Hmm? Our next innocent?"
Prue's eyes sparkled with determination. "As in Tom's next victim," she declared. "Okay, come on." With a shared sense of urgency, they headed towards the front door, Buffy and Prue each grabbing their car keys.
City Hall
Buffy and Prue parked their cars outside a bustling building, their eyes trained on Tom as he followed Claudia towards her car. The urgency in their movements was palpable as they swiftly exited their vehicles, ready to intervene.
Tom's hand ignited with a fiery ball; his intention clear as he hurled it towards Claudia. But before the fireball could reach its target, Piper instinctively raised her hands, freezing Tom, Claudia, and the dangerous projectile in mid-air. Her voice carried a mix of concern and determination. "Well, we didn't bring a vanquish, but if we throw him into the street, that might do the trick."
Buffy's expression hardened with resolve as she stepped forward, disagreeing with Piper's suggestion. "Aunt Piper," she said firmly, her voice filled with conviction. "We are not vanquishing him."
Piper pushed back, emphasizing the threat Tom posed. "Buffy, he almost killed that woman," she argued.
Prue interjected; her voice laced with confidence as she used her telekinetic powers to redirect the fireball into a nearby car. "Almost, but didn't," she stated. "Alright, we need to get him home."
Phoebe's shock was evident as she spoke up, her voice filled with disbelief. "Wha—our home?" she questioned. "You're voluntarily bringing a demon back to our home?"
Halliwell Manor
In the dimly lit attic, Buffy and Prue pored over the ancient pages of the Book of Shadows, searching for answers while Faith kept a watchful eye on Tom, who was securely tied to a chair. Tension filled the air as Tom struggled against his restraints.
"Did you two find anything yet?" Piper asked as she and Phoebe walked into the attic. She froze Tom to prevent his escape.
Prue shook her head in response. "Not yet," she replied, her eyes scanning the ancient text with determination.
"Well, while we're waiting this would be a good time to discuss something," Piper said just as the phone rang.
Phoebe, ever quick-witted, suggested, "Oh, phone. Piper will get it."
"Nope," Piper objected. "Machine, remember?"
"Leo was right," Buffy interjected, her voice carrying a hint of realization. "About the demonic training academy. It's right here in the Book."
Phoebe's surprise was evident as she eagerly inquired, "Oh, really?"
Prue nodded, confirming Buffy's revelation. "A brutal training program which destroys humanity and renders the subject demonic," she explained. "So, if Tom is completely demonic, he'll have a brand on his arm with six chevrons."
Curiosity piqued, Piper rolled up Tom's sleeve, revealing five chevrons. "He's only got five," she observed.
Relief washed over Buffy's features as she concluded, "Good, that means he's not fully converted."
Phoebe, however, proposed a drastic solution. "We better vanquish him while we can," she suggested, her voice filled with conviction.
Buffy interjected swiftly; her tone resolute. "Aunt Phoebe, no," she said firmly, emphasizing the importance of their mission to save Tom.
Prue chimed in, reminding Phoebe of her past actions. "You know, when Cole was the hybrid in question, you were all about saving him," she stated, her words resonating with truth.
Piper added her agreement, the weight of their shared history hanging in the air. "Excellent point," she acknowledged.
Phoebe, however, stood her ground, drawing from her own experiences. "Yes, well, I learned from my mistake," she admitted.
Buffy's brows furrowed in confusion. "And which mistake was that?" she questioned, seeking understanding.
Phoebe paused for a moment before answering, her voice tinged with a mixture of regret and growth. "Believing that I could save a demon," she confessed.
Prue, understanding the complexity of their current situation, offered her perspective. "Hmm. Well, like I said before, this is different," she explained, stepping closer to Tom. "Tom, look at me. Do you remember me from college?"
A flicker of recognition passed through Tom's eyes as he threw a fireball at Prue, who docked out of the way. That prompted Piper to interject with a hint of humor. "Hmm, does that mean he remembers you or he doesn't?" she asked curiously. Suddenly, the sound of the doorbell downstairs interrupted their conversation. Slightly bewildered, she questioned the commotion. "What is going on down there?"
Prue seized the opportunity to redirect their attention. "Why don't you guys go and find out?" she suggested, her confidence unwavering. "Buffy and I can handle him." As Faith, Piper, and Phoebe made their way out of the attic and down the stairs, Prue and Buffy prepared to face the challenge that lay before them.