The Gift, Take Two

Title: The Gift, Take Two - Chapter 12: Old Wounds, New Wounds
Email: Dafmeister@hotmail.com
Disclaimer: The Buffyverse is owned by Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, Fox and a bunch of other people who aren't me. No infringement of copyright is intended blah blah blah...
Distribution: Faithfanfiction.net, Mystic Muse, Shades Of Grey, Slayer's Fanfic Archive, A Sorta Fairytale, Oralfxatn, anyone else who tells me first.
Rating: R
Timing: End of Season 5
Feedback: Please, please, for the love of God yes! If you like it, tell me; if you don't, tell me why!
Spoilers: Everything up to the end of Season 5
Summary: There's one constant in Sunnydale - another problem is always just around the corner.
Author's notes: Huge thanks to Kaz, beta extraordinaire, to Leila, my friend and sounding board, and to Notty, who helped me knock this story back into shape.

I would also like to mention that the thing with the syringe (you'll understand when you read it) isn't my idea - I borrowed it from TheBear's story Seeing Red, so big thanks to him for giving me the OK to use it.

The poem I quote from was written by Dr. John McCrae.

*****

Buffy rolled over in her bed, curling the pillow around her ears as she did so, determined not to wake up yet in spite of the noise. It was no good. She sat up, flinging the covers aside.

What the hell is that?

As the cobwebs slowly dissipated from her brain, Buffy was finally able to make sense of what she was hearing. Someone was in the shower. Singing.

Staggering out into the corridor, Buffy encountered her sister looking groggy and definitely not amused.

"Coffee?"

"Coffee."

Ten minutes later, Faith came bouncing down the stairs and into the kitchen, towelling off her damp hair and humming something discordant. "Mornin', guys!" The Summers sisters looked up from their mugs of coffee, glaring balefully at her. "What?"

"When did you become a morning person?" Buffy's tone of voice made the term sound like an obscenity. "You hated mornings! You were never awake before ten unless you hadn't been to sleep yet! It's six-thirty a.m.! And you, with the showering, a-and the singing!

For a moment, confusion dominated Faith's face, then her eyes widened. "Oh God, did I wake you guys up?"

Dawn actually growled. "Why were you even awake?"

"Sorry, I kinda got into the habit while I was inside. I can't seem to sleep past six these days." Faith poured herself a cup of coffee and perched herself on the counter. "I just figured I'd take a shower."

"Did you have to sing?" Buffy asked.

"Hey, I was in a good mood!" Faith replied, rather defensively. "That was the first really good shower I've had in forever!"

"What's so good about it?" Dawn wondered, before swallowing half her mug of coffee in one go.

"Uh, let me see, no cast on my leg I gotta keep dry, water that's actually hot, real water pressure, no one-eighty pound chicas checkin' out my ass." Faith ticked the points off on her fingers. "Trust me, you cannot understand how good it felt."

Buffy nodded her grudging acceptance of that point. "Okay, but in future, if you're gonna sing, could you pick something that you didn't learn from Spike? What was that, anyway?"

"Anarchy In The UK, I think." Dawn murmured.

Buffy stared at her sister with a mix of surprise and genuine horror. "And you know this how?"

Dawn shrugged. "Spike and me spent some time discussing music once."

"God, please don't tell me you liked it!" Buffy's voice was almost pleading.

"Hey, easy on the Pistols, B!" Faith cut in. "This stuff's classic."

"So what are you guys doing today?" Dawn asked, trying to divert the Slayers onto a less contentious topic.

"We'd better go see Giles when he opens the Magic Shop, seeing as we're awake." Buffy replied, with a pointed look at Faith. "He's probably dying for a report on Faith's first patrol. You?"

"Meeting Janice at the mall." Dawn hopped off her stool. "I think I'll take a shower, assuming there's any hot water left."

"Hey! Wrong Slayer!" Faith's protest fell on deaf ears.

*****

Giles took a deep breath as he began to dial; this was one phone call he was not looking forward to.

The phone was answered before the third ring. "Travers."

"Quentin, it's Rupert Giles." The Watcher just managed to keep his nervousness from showing in his voice.

Travers tone implied that the call came as a pleasant surprise to him. "What can I do for you, Rupert? Is there something afoot on the Hellmouth?"

"Er, not as such. Quentin, I need to talk to you about the Slayers' maintenance stipend."

"Rupert..."

Giles didn't even notice Travers had spoken. "I'm afraid I have to ask if it can not only be re-instated, but increased substantially."

"Rupert..."

"The fact is that given their current circumstances, particularly with Buffy's sister to consider, the traditional stipend will not be suff-"

"Giles!" Travers voice cut Giles off like a guillotine.

Giles heart jumped up to his mouth. "Yes, Quentin?"

"I can begin the payments as soon as you provide me with the account information." The senior Watcher's voice was completely devoid of the steel it had possessed a moment earlier.

"You agree?"

"Rupert, I've had the arrangements in place since I learned that Joyce Summers had passed away. Including a second Slayer in them was hardly difficult."

Giles couldn't quite believe what he was hearing. "You mean you were prepared for this months ago? Why didn't you say anything?"

Travers sounded like a long-suffering parent explaining something obvious to a slow-witted child. "Come now, Rupert. If I had come to you with this without any word from your end, what do you think Miss Summers' reaction would have been? Or yours, for that matter?"

Giles couldn't argue with that. "All right then, but why are you doing this at all?"

"Because it is the most sensible course of action, Rupert. Also because, notwithstanding popular opinion on the subject, I hold Miss Summers in some considerable regard, and I feel that she should be supported." Travers allowed a degree of warmth to show in his voice.

"I must say, you hide it well." Giles replied dryly. "I'll set the accounts up and pass on the details to you."

"I'll be waiting for your call."

"Thank you, Quentin." What are you up to?

"I'm not doing this for you, Rupert." Travers cut the connection.

In the outer office, Travers' assistant, Julian, silently put down his own handset.

*****

When Giles arrived to open the Magic Box that morning, he was surprised to find Faith and a semi-awake Buffy waiting for him on the doorstep. "You're rather early. Is something wrong?"

Faith suppressed a chuckle as Buffy explained about how she had been woken that morning. "I'll be fine. I just need a workout to get the blood pumping again."

Giles more-or-less contained his amusement at Buffy's state. "Perhaps this will perk you up a little." He said, as he let the two Slayers into the store. "I spoke with Quentin Travers this morning. He's agreed to renew the traditional stipend provided for a Slayer's living expenses."

"What?" Buffy didn't understand.

Giles rolled his eyes. "He's going to start paying you."

"Whoa, whoa, wait a minute! Paying us? And you said this is traditional? How come I never heard about it before?"

"Buffy, your circumstances were... different. You were still living with your mother. After she found out about you, I offered to give her the money, but she refused. Had you been living with your Watcher, as is usual, you would have known."

"Yeah, B, how'd you think I paid for my motel room?" Faith pointed out.

"I never really thought about it..." Buffy seemed a little lost. "Giles, why now?"

Giles hesitated a moment before answering. "Because I asked him." He raised a hand to forestall Buffy's protest. "Buffy, he had already made the arrangements, he just didn't think you would accept the money if he offered it on his own initiative. Anya persuaded me that I should talk to him, and here we are. If you don't mind me saying so, you don't seem as pleased as I expected."

"What? No, I mean, money good, and thanks for wanting to help, but..." Buffy paused to get her thoughts in order. "I'm just worried about giving the Council any more leverage."

"I had thought of that." Giles replied. "It's up to the two of you, but I would urge you both to consider this offer seriously. You can't deny that the money would be useful, especially with Dawn to consider. At the very least, it would give you some time to secure your own financial support."

"He's got a point, Buffy." Faith piped up after an uncharacteristic bout of silence. "We're not exactly flush right now."

Buffy grimaced, but nodded. "Okay, Giles. Just don't expect me to trust him."

"Of course not. Travers is certainly expecting to derive some personal benefit from this, a degree of loyalty from the two of you at the very least." Giles began setting up for the day's business. "Even so, I think you've made the right choice. I can't promise you a fortune, but it should certainly help."

*****

Buffy gasped in pain, doubling over as a melon-sized fist slammed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. Stumbling back, she tripped over the corpse of a second demon, the base of her stake still protruding from its eye socket. She fell hard, wrenching her leg as she went down, coming to rest slumped against the alley wall.

The demon she was fighting loomed over her, its corpselike skin seeming to have an eerie glow in the moonlight. From this angle, the ring of small horns around its head looked almost like a crown. Behind it, Buffy could see Faith trading blows with the third demon, blood trickling from a cut beneath her eye.

Buffy barely had time to gather her wits before she had to fling herself aside, rolling across the alley floor to avoid a brutally powerful kick. As the demon turned to follow her, she lashed out with her foot, catching the creature in the side of its knee. The demon roared in anger and pain, the force of the blow knocking it off balance for a second, enough time for the Slayer to get to her feet and pull back a few paces closer to Faith.

The brunette was hammering punch after punch into her opponent's head, gasping in pain every time she struck with her left but keeping up the barrage regardless. Infuriated by the constant pounding, the demon went for a reckless, all-out attack, trying to smash her to the ground in one huge blow. Faith ducked sideways, grabbing the demon's arm and using the leverage to propel it headfirst into the wall. Shifting her grip a fraction, she increased the pressure and the demon's neck snapped.
As the demon Buffy had evaded turned to follow her, it saw it's other comrade collapsing to the ground and the two Slayers positioning themselves for a co-ordinated attack. Somewhere in the depths of its primitive brain a survival instinct kicked in, and the demon turned and ran.

Both Slayers were instantly charging in pursuit, but after a few seconds Faith realised that Buffy wasn't beside her any more. Looking back, she saw the older girl had pulled up, leaning against the wall and rubbing her injured knee. "B! You okay?"

Buffy shook her head. "I can't run. Get going, I can't keep up with you."

"The hell I will! I'm not ditching you like this!" Faith ran back and put Buffy's arm around her shoulders, taking as much of the weight of the injured leg as she could.

"We can't let that thing get away..."

"Wasn't it you that told me the first rule of Slaying was 'Don't Die'? We got two, and I don't think number three's gonna be goin' anywhere but home right now." Faith gently led her out of the alley. "Besides, my wrist's killing me." She flexed the abused joint, wincing as she did so.

Casting a quick glance over their battered selves, Buffy cracked a rueful grin and asked, "How do you feel? Hungry and horny?"

"Hungry, hell yeah." Faith chuckled at the reference. "Horny, not so much. How 'bout you? Craving one of those low-fat yoghurts?"

"More like a bottle of aspirin." Buffy gasped as she took too much weight on her twisted knee. "Why is there never a cab around when you need one?"

Faith raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah, Sunnydale, right." Buffy muttered. "Stupid Hellmouth."

Some time later, the front door of 1630 Revello opened to admit two battered Slayers. Buffy was able to walk unaided again, but was still limping, while the cut below Faith's eye was now surrounded by a livid purple bruise, and she was nursing her sprained wrist. Both were sporting numerous bruises and scrapes.

As the two young women gingerly removed their jackets, Dawn emerged from the kitchen in her pyjamas. With a gasped "Oh my God!" she ran to help them.

"What you doing up, Bitesize? It's after two." Faith asked, her voice sounding exhausted.

"I couldn't sleep. I came down for some hot chocolate. And quit calling me that." Dawn replied, looking closely Faith's battered cheek. "Sit down, I'll get the first aid kit."

Faith protested, "It's okay, nothin' a hot bath and some sleep won't fix." But Dawn ignored her and hurried up the stairs.

Buffy let out a rueful laugh. "Don't bother, Faith, you can't stop her when she's in 'Doctor Summers' mode."

"You got any idea what those things were?" Faith slumped onto the couch and began examining her wrist.

"Not a clue." Buffy replied, wincing as she removed the boot from her injured leg. "I know I want something more than a stake next time I run into one, though."

"You got that right. Think we should call Giles about it?"

"Nah, let him sleep. We can give him the details in the morning." Buffy joined Faith on the couch. "You want to flip a coin for first go in the bath?"

"You take it, I'm gonna put an ice pack on my wrist." Faith reluctantly stood up and headed for the kitchen. "Maybe we should get another bath put in?"

Buffy smiled. "How about a hot tub out back?"

"Oh yeah, now you're talkin'. Bikinis, bubble jets, a couple of margaritas - all you need to work the kinks out."

"Yeah, well, if Travers actually comes through, we might even be able to afford it someday."

Just then, Dawn came clattering down the stairs again, laden with antiseptic and dressings. She set the first aid kit on the coffee table and began cleaning Buffy up. "What happened?"

Buffy winced as Dawn dabbed antiseptic on a particularly nasty scrape on her arm. "Just your typical Friday night in Sunnydale."

*****

The following morning, the two Slayers were at the Magic Box a little later than normal. Xander was there measuring for some new display cases Giles wanted made, and he was the first to notice the residual marks of the previous night's combat. "Whoa, what happened to the other guy?"

Overhearing the comment, Giles left Anya to mind the cash register and hurried over to join them. "Are you injured?"

"We're good, just a little sore." Buffy said, sitting down at the table. "Giles, we ran into a group of demons last night, ones I've never seen before."

"Can you describe them?"

"About six feet tall, greeny-grey skin, no hair, really muscley. They had this circle of little horns around their heads."

"Wicked aggressive, too." Faith added. "These guys were a handful, Giles. Strong, fast, they had these bony lumps all over, 'specially on their hands. Felt like getting hit with a sledgehammer."

"Any ideas?" Buffy asked her Watcher.

"Well, they sound familiar, but I'll need to do some research, so I suggest the two of you get started on your training session, and I'll join you when I have something."

"Maybe this'll help." Faith took something from her pocket and tossed it to Giles. "Snagged it off one of the dead guys last night."

Giles examined the broken piece of horn. "Yes, this should prove useful. Well done, Faith."

The two Slayers headed into the training room and, after some warm-up exercises, were soon sparring. The previous night's combat didn't seem to have left any lasting effects beyond bruising - Buffy's leg and Faith's wrist were just a little sore. Faith, in particular, was fast regaining her old fluidity of movement now that she finally had a practice partner capable of matching her.

Buffy snapped off a high kick, taking her weight on the leg she'd injured the night before, testing the limb. Faith ducked under the attack, coming upright just in time to meet a left hook. Faith turned her block into a grapple, trying to use her superior height and reach, but Buffy managed to hook her legs out from under her and send them both crashing to the ground. Buffy landed on top, straddling Faith's waist and pinning her arms.

"Jeez, B, if you wanted me between your legs that bad, all you had to do was ask!"

Back in high school, a flirtatious quip like that from Faith would have put Buffy off-balance for a moment, giving Faith time to break free. Now, she simply laughed.

"Sorry, Faith, that trick doesn't work any more." She laughed as she pressed the younger Slayer's wrists into the practice mat. Then she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye...

Faith's tank top had ridden up slightly, exposing the scar on her stomach.

Buffy leapt to her feet, her expression shifting from triumph to panic in the blink of an eye. Faith sat up, confused. "B, what's the matter with y-" She broke off as she realised exactly where Buffy was staring. She quickly pulled her tank back down, covering the scar.

Buffy covered her face with her hands. "Oh God, oh God, oh God..."

"Buffy, it's okay."

"No, it's not!" Buffy stared at her old enemy, her eyes wild. "It hasn't healed! Two years and it hasn't healed!"

Faith strode over and grabbed Buffy by the shoulders. "It's just a scar, B, and I'm glad it's there."

"Glad?"

"Yeah, it keeps me honest; reminds me how bad I got. What I made you do."

Buffy pulled away and sat down on a bench by the wall. Her whole body was shaking. "I guess some wounds never heal..."

Before Faith could reply, the moment was broken by Giles opening the door. His attention was focused on the book he was holding, and he didn't see the Slayers pulling themselves together before he spoke.

"Is this what you fought?" he asked, holding the book out to the two girls.

"That's our guy." Faith said, examining the old woodcut. Buffy just nodded.

"As I thought. It's called a Borilarg. They were bred as pit-fighters by a particularly nasty collection of demon nobles. After their masters were overthrown, they escaped and have appeared several times across Europe and Asia. I've never heard of them in the Americas, though. They are, as you said, highly aggressive and very dangerous in hand-to-hand combat. How many were there?"

"Three." Buffy said, aggravation leaking into her voice as she focused on the matter at hand. "We took down two of them, but the third one took off, and we lost it. I hurt my leg, I couldn't keep up."

"I figured we should stick together." Faith interjected, sounding uncertain.

"Of course you should." Giles reassured her. "All the same, we ought to find and eliminate the remaining Borilarg as soon as possible. I'll call Willow and Tara, perhaps they can perform a locator spell."

"Okay, good." Buffy picked up her sweatshirt and headed for the back door. "I need some air, I'm gonna go for a run." She disappeared out of the door before Faith could say anything.

Buffy had never been a particularly enthusiastic jogger. She knew it was an important part of her training regime, but she usually preferred something more varied. Occasionally, however, she would welcome it. When the stress of being the Slayer, the guilt for her failures, real or perceived, became too much for her, she would slip out of the house and just run. For a little while, she could dull the pain.

This time, however, running took her back to the pain, back to the source. Back to Faith.

*****

Over an hour later, Buffy returned to the store to find Willow and Tara sitting at the research table, a map laid out in front of them and their usual mystical paraphernalia scattered around. From the training room, came the sound of Faith laying into the punchbag with even greater vigour than normal. Anya was scurrying around performing some minor chore, while Giles and Xander were going over the designs he had sketched out for the new display cabinets.

Buffy accepted the bottle of water Anya passed to her with a nod of thanks and sat down on the stairs, watching the two witches work. After a few minutes, the noise from the training room ceased, and Faith emerged. She stood leaning against the counter, looking over at Buffy. The older Slayer couldn't, or wouldn't, meet her gaze.

"Got it." Tara said quietly, putting down the horn fragment Faith had retrieved. The others all quickly joined the witches at the table.

"Uh, Buffy..." Willow said, her voice hesitant. "You said there was one that ran off?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I think he has some roomies." The redhead pointed at the glowing spot on the map, in the warehouse district near the docks. "Look's like there's seven or eight of them left."

"Great." Buffy sat down heavily in one of the chairs. "Feel like some four-on-one, Faith?"

"Hey, you're not actually planning on going in there alone, just the two of you?" Xander questioned, disbelieving.

"Yeah, come on Buffy, this is what we do! When something big shows up, the whole gang goes in together." Willow added, clearly distressed. Please don't start shutting me out again, Buffy!

"They're right, B, we could use some people watching our backs on this one."

Buffy smiled slightly at her two oldest friends. "Thanks, guys. It's just... now that Faith's here, I don't want you to feel like there's pressure to help me fight."

"What pressure? My best friend's going into a building full of monsters. No pressure here." Xander's joke lightened the mood a little.

Giles cleared his throat. "Do you want to bring Spike in as well? It would mean waiting until after dark before we attack, but his fighting skills would certainly be useful. In any case, Borilarg eyes are rather sensitive, they see very well in the dark but they're easily dazzled, so it's unlikely they'll venture out in daylight."

Tara's eyes lit up on hearing that. Turning to Willow, she asked, "What about that light spell you were working on, sweetie? The one you tried to turn into sunlight?"

"Good idea, Tara." Giles commented. "I trust there won't be any trolls involved this time?"

Willow mock-scowled at the barb. "I said I was sorry..."

Buffy looked a little uncertain. "Uh, Will - this spell isn't going to create actual sunlight, is it? 'Cause Spike and sunlight don't go well together."

Willow shook her head, a little chagrined. "Not a problem. I thought I could make artificial sunlight if I got the wavelengths right, but it looks like there's a mystical component to real sunlight which is what affects vampires, and I haven't been able to duplicate it."

Buffy nodded, suppressing her emotions and focussing on the job. "Okay, Xander, can you do a drive-by on the warehouse, look the place over?"

"Sure."

"Be careful, don't get too close. Giles, Will, Tara, Anya - try to find out anything else we can use against these guys. I'll go talk to Spike."

Faith cut in there. "I'll do it, I could use some sun anyhow. 'Sides, you should probably call Bitesize and let her know."

"Faith..." The other Slayer was gone before Buffy could even begin.

*****

"Watch it, daylight comin' in!" Faith shouted as she opened Spike's crypt door.

Spike climbed through the opening to the lower level, muttering, "Bloody Slayers, can't a bloke get a moment's peace..."

Faith smirked at his annoyance. "Good to see you too, Sid."

Spike couldn't help smiling a little at that. "Something you wanted, Nancy?"

"Gang's got a job to do tonight, wondered if you want in? Nest of Borilarg demons we gotta take down."

"Borilargs? In Sunnydale?" Spike's eyebrows rose. "How many?"

Faith shrugged. "Seven, eight, maybe more. B and me took down a couple last night, now we're goin' after the rest."

"Sounds like fun. When and where?"

"Meet at the magic shop, right after sunset."

"See you then." Spike paused for a moment as Faith turned to leave, then asked, "You okay, Slayer?"

"Five by five."

Yeah, right.

*****

"I don't see anything." Buffy observed, looking across to the abandoned warehouse from the alleyway where the gang had assembled.

Willow pulled the still-glowing map from her coat pocket. "The spell says they're still in there."

Buffy turned to face the others. "Okay, you all know the plan. Faith's with me, Spike and Giles go in the back way and stop them getting out. Will and Tara, light the place up and whatever else you can think of. Xander, Anya, look after them and make sure we don't get surrounded."

Everyone nodded or murmured their understanding, and Buffy led them out of the alley toward the warehouse.

As the Slayers reached the main door, they could hear muffled grunts and growls coming from inside, dispelling any doubt they had that there were a number of Borilarg's inside. Wrenching the door open, they burst inside.

Within, they found the warehouse almost pitch black. Hardly any of the glow from the streetlights outside penetrated the filthy windows, and most of the meagre illumination came from a small fire in one corner, around which most of the demons were gathered.

Buffy and Faith charged immediately, hoping to capitalise on the moment of surprise. Their initial target barely had time to get to its feet before Buffy's axe was swinging at its head. It managed to block the blow, knocking the blade aside with a sweep of its arm, but the desperate defence left the demon wide open to Faith's sword, which sliced deep into its stomach.

Just then, two things happened at once; the warehouse light up like someone had switched on an arc lamp, and a splintering crash from the back announced that Spike had made his entrance.

The seven remaining demons recoiled from the sudden burst of light. The two nearest the back door turned, seeking an escape into the darkness outside, and found what looked like two humans baring their way. Roaring their anger and bloodlust, they charged.

"'Raaaaarrrrgggghhhh' to you too, pillock." Spike retorted, pulling his sawn-off twelve gauge from under his coat and discharging both barrels into the nearest demon's face, nimbly dodging aside as the massive corpse crashed to the floor. A couple of steps behind the vampire, Giles rolled his eyes at Spike theatrics and brought his sword up to engage the second demon.

Squinting in the light, the main pack of Borilargs charged the Slayers en masse. Dodging the initial rush, Buffy and Faith fell into a defensive pattern, trying to keep the attention of all five demons and give the others the chance to act unmolested, all the while probing for an opening they could exploit.

Between them, Spike and Giles made fairly short work of the Borilarg they were facing, splitting its attention and wearing it down until Giles was able to land the killing blow. One of the demons noticed them heading over to reinforce the Slayers and bellowed a warning to the others.

Spotting an opening, Faith dove forward, plunging her sword hilt-deep in the chest of one of the demons. It dropped to the floor immediately, but before she could wrench her sword free another Borilarg stepped up behind her and flung her into a pile of old packing crates. Seeing this, Buffy's guard dropped for a moment and one of the demons she was fighting kicked her legs out from under her.

As Buffy scrambled backwards and tried to regain her footing, two of the Borilargs harried her, one charged toward Faith, who was on her knees and shaking her head trying to clear it. The last decided to break out through the group of humans clustered in the doorway.

Anya raised her crossbow and fired at the oncoming demon. The bolt sank deep into its thigh, causing it to stumble forward onto its knees. Xander sprang forward, swinging his axe down, but the Borilarg was too quick and seized the axe haft with both hands before he could complete the blow. Anya ran to help, battering at the demon with the butt of her crossbow, while Tara began muttering frantically, trying to find a spell to help.

Faith was climbing unsteadily to her feet when she was seized by the throat and hoisted off the ground. Struggling to break the hold, she was slammed into the wall.

Buffy was on her feet again, but her two opponents had boxed her in against the wall, and with no room to manouver she was fighting desperately just to hold the demon's off. Willow grabbed Tara's hand and reached out toward them, her eyes blackening. Without warning, one of the demons was jerked into the air and flung across the warehouse into the far wall, the masonry crumbling under the impact. The demon dropped to the floor and lay still.

With one opponent gone and the other momentarily stunned by what had happened, Buffy looked around and saw Faith being repeatedly hammered against the wall. Raising her axe, she flung the weapon across the warehouse, to sink into the demon's back. The creature collapsed, releasing Faith, who fell to her knees, gasping for air.

Anya's constant battering finally angered the demon she and Xander were engaged with enough that it took one hand off the axe to try to swat her away. Seizing the moment, Xander twisted the axe, wrenching it free. Before the demon could respond, he brought the blade down and clove its skull.

Stepping in to meet the last Borilarg's attack, Buffy ducked under its first swing and drove her fist into its stomach. Around her she could hear running footsteps as the others rushed to join her. Suddenly, the Borilarg stiffened, then slumped to the ground. Behind it stood Faith, her bloodied sword in hand. "Thanks."

"Back at ya, B." The two Slayers stood over the fallen demon, suddenly uncomfortable with each other again now that the fight was over.

"Bloody hell, Willow!" Spike commented from by the far wall, where he was prodding the Borilarg Willow had flung into the wall. "Looks like you broke this one."

Willow ignored the remark and pulled the map from her pocket. "That looks like all of them."

"Good work, all of you." Giles said, breathing rather heavily.

"I don't know about you guys, but I could sure use a drink." Xander said, resting his axe against his shoulder. "It's Saturday night, who's up for hitting the Bronze?"

Buffy looked uncertainly at Giles. "I don't know, I... we should probably patrol tonight."

"To be honest, Buffy, I think you and Faith have earned a night off." Giles replied, to everyone's surprise.

"Chill, B." Faith wiped off the blade of her sword and tossed the weapon to Giles. "I'll do a sweep, you go enjoy yourself."

Tara took a few steps toward her. "You should come too, Faith."

"Nah, I'm not really in the party mood. I got some things I need to do anyway." Faith turned and walked briskly out of the warehouse.

"Faith not in a party mood?" Xander wondered. "What's that about?"

*****

In Flanders fields the poppies grow
Beneath the crosses, row on row.

Where the hell did I hear that?

The lines of gravestones, once so familiar, seemed almost alien now. Walking between the rows, Faith finally began to see them for what they were, not just scenery in a habitual battleground. For the first time, she looked at the names, wondering who they were, while she searched for one in particular. Under a small group of trees, she found it.

"Hi, Alan."

The headstone was a simple granite block, the inscription almost terse: Alan David Finch, 1965 - 1999.

"Look, I know you can't hear me, and I know, if you could, you probably wouldn't want me here, but I gotta do this, okay?" Faith composed herself for a moment. "I'm sorry. Not that I killed you - I mean, I'm sorry you died, but it was an accident. I got careless, but I didn't mean t-"

She turned away from the grave, fighting down a spike of anger.

"I'm sorry I acted like it didn't matter. Like you didn't matter, like it was okay 'cause I was still ahead on the numbers. You died, and I didn't want to care, but I need to tell you; I did care. I do care." Faith wiped a tear from her eye. "I'm sorry."

A piercing scream rent the night air coming from the other side of the boundary wall.

"Sorry, Al, duty calls." Faith set of at a run, leaping onto a bench by the wall and using it as a springboard to carry her over.

She practically landed on the cluster of struggling people on the other side. There was a teenage girl, bleeding from the neck and screaming her lungs out, with a vampire holding onto each arm and a third looking up from her neck to glare at the interloper.

"Slayer!" He flung the girl away, tearing her from his companions' grip and sending her stumbling into the wall. "Kill her!"

"But..." One of the vampires began to protest, but she was silenced by a glare from the leader. Unheeded, the girl scrambled to her feet and fled.

Faith plunged into the fray, catching the vamp leader squarely in the chest with a powerful kick, then spinning around to drive her elbow into the face of the vampire coming in on her left. The reluctant vampire, advancing cautiously on Faith's right, tried to launch an attack while the Slayer was preoccupied, but fell victim to a barrage of punches that left her sprawled in the road.

The leader, having regained his footing, leapt at Faith. Ducking under the attack, she grabbed him by the throat and the waistband of his cheap imitation-leather pants and threw him. He landed on his back on a garbage can, which collapsed under the impact, leaving the vampire in a dazed heap on the floor.

The vampire Faith had elbowed came in swinging. Faith evaded with a back-flip that sent both her steel toe-caps crashing into his jaw and finished with her next to the female vampire, who barely made it to her feet in time to see the stake coming in, but not in time to avoid it.

The clatter of metal announced that the leader was freeing himself, so Faith wasted no time in re-engaging the remaining vampire she'd just kicked. He was clearly inexperienced, and within seconds, Faith slammed him chest-first into the cemetery wall and plunged her stake into his back.

The leader got to his feet, realised he was alone, and took to his heels. With an infuriated cry of "Get back here!", Faith took off after him. The pursuit didn't last long. As she rounded a street corner, Faith saw the vampire wrench open the door of an old van. Before she could catch up, it had sped off.

"Cheater!"

*****

In an office in another abandoned warehouse, no more than a quarter of a mile from the Borilarg lair, a vampire sat behind an old desk and contemplated the problem of the Slayers. Having two to deal with was enough trouble without a fiasco like this...

His second in command entered with office. "Everyone's accounted for, Lucas."

The vampire rose from his chair and faced his lieutenant. "Any other losses?"

"No, just the two fledglings."

Lucas gave a curt nod. "That's something, at least. Assemble them, Sean, and let's get this over with." Taking a small wooden box from his desk drawer, he followed the other vampire out into the main part of the warehouse, where the other inhabitants of the nest were gathering in a ragged circle. The painted-over windows kept out every hint of the dawn.

Lucas strode into the middle of the circle. "As most of you already know, Rick and Melissa, the two newest members of our little family, were killed tonight by one of the Slayers. Now, I thought we were clear on this subject. One Slayer is bad news, two is worse, and I can tell you from personal experience that the second one is not someone you want to mess with without a damn good reason! This is why I gave what I thought were very clear orders regarding the Slayers - you are to avoid all contact with them, even if it means abandoning a kill. We'll deal with them when we're ready - anything else is suicide!"

He turned to face the vampire in the cheap leathers, who hadn't noticed Sean coming up behind him. "So I'm curious, Miles; what exactly did you think you were doing attacking a Slayer with only two fledglings for backup?"

In a flash, the lieutenant had Miles' arms pinned behind his back and was pushing him out into the middle of the circle.

"Hey, come on, boss!" Miles babbled, panic flooding his voice. "She was on her own, and she looked like she'd been in a fight already! I thought we could take her!"

"And you thought that was enough of a reason to defy my orders," Lucas replied, his voice absolutely even as he opened the box and removed the two objects inside. "As a result of which, you cost me three soldiers and potentially led a Slayer to our home."

"Three? Boss, there was just the two of them, Rick and Melissa..."

"And you, Miles." Lucas jabbed the point of the syringe through into the vial and drew out a full measure of the clear liquid. "I can't allow this sort of insubordination to go unpunished."

"Boss, no, please, I'm sorry!" Miles pleaded as Lucas advanced on him, struggling all the while in Sean's vice-like grip.

"Miles, you're a vampire, a blood-drinking creature of the night. Show a little fucking dignity." Lucas plunged the syringe into Miles' heart and injected the contents.

Miles shrieked. Sean released his grip and Miles collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony. The other vampires looked on, their expressions a mix of fascination and horror as he thrashed around, clawing at his chest and screaming. The process took nearly a minute before, with one final convulsion, Miles exploded into dust.

Lucas replaced the syringe and the vial of holy water in the box. "I hope there won't be any further misunderstandings."

*****

A cool breeze flowed over the dark waters of the Thames, bringing a degree of respite from the heat of London in July. Julian leaned against the wall overlooking Tower Pier, gazing south across the river.

"I must say, Mr. Graves, I was surprised when you asked to meet me here."

Julian turned at the sound of the voice, its tone firm and patrician. He saw a smartly dressed man in his mid-sixties. "I apologise for the choice of location, sir, but I felt that this meeting ought to be discrete."

"Oh, I completely understand." The old man replied. "What surprised me was that you called me at all. You are Quentin Travers' assistant, indeed some would call you his protégé, and it is well known that Quentin and I have been... rivals... for some time. I have to wonder why you of all people would contact me."

Julian's eyes dropped and he fidgeted nervously. "Recently, sir, I have become concerned with several of the decisions Mr Travers has made. You are aware of what occurred during his visit to Sunnydale?" The old man nodded. "And you know that he persuaded the Council to allow the rogue Slayer to remain at large, and even used Council resources to change her legal identity?" Another nod. "Neither of these events served to bolster my confidence. Moreover, I have recently learned that Mr Travers has begun a regular transfer of funds from the Operations division to the Slayers."

"It has always been Council policy to provide for the Slayer during her service." The old man observed.

"This goes considerably beyond the usual stipend, sir." Julian replied, his face grim. "Not only is this money being paid directly to the Slayers, the sum he is providing to each is equivalent to the salary of an experienced Watcher. It is my belief that Mr. Travers' disregard for our procedures and traditions has consistently weakened the authority of the Watcher's Council over the Slayer. How long can it be before the potential Slayers currently in training learn of this? If something is not done, and done quickly, I fear that the Council's control over the Slayer line could be irrevocably damaged."

The grey-haired man looked out over the water, lost in thought for a moment. "You raise some valid points, Mr Graves, but I fail to see why you have chosen to raise them with me. I have no real power within the organisation, and my influence is hardly what it once was."

"That may be true, sir, but in spite of your recent... difficulties... your name is still respected among the Watchers, and you have the ear of a number of influential people. I can't go to the Council with this on my own, but with your support, perhaps something could be done."

"And what exactly do you envision that something would be?"

Julian paused, knowing that he was about to commit himself. "The Council must be persuaded to confront Mr. Travers and, if possible, bring him back into line with our proud tradition. If that should prove impossible, I can see no option but his replacement as Head of Operations."

The old man gave a sly smile. "By you, perhaps?"

"If that is the decision of the Council."

The old man laughed inside at Julian's transparent attempt to hide his ambition, but a lifetime of political manoeuvring let him keep his face neutral. "You are aware that Quentin is an ally of the Chairman?"

Julian gave a curt nod. "The Chairman is not all-powerful. If necessary, he too can be replaced."

So that is how you are baiting your hook, is it, Julian? "Very well, Mr Graves, I shall consider what you have told me and contact you when I have decided how to proceed. In the meantime, should you learn anything more that concerns you, I trust you will inform me?"

"Of course, Mr. Wyndham-Pryce."