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Everything Is Different Now	By : Declan Category: -Buffy the Vampire Slayer > FemmeSlash - Female/Female > Buffy/Faith Views: 7516 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own Buffy The Vampire Slayer Television Series. Joss Whedon does. This is done for simple fun, I'm not making any money from this.

Chapter List
- 5
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- 7
Betrayals: Part 2 (Nothing Personal)

“Hey, Willow!” Willow turned to see Xander and Anya across from her on the other side of the quiet street. Xander craned his neck both ways before moving towards her. She noticed; he seemed a lot edgier than usual, running his hand through his hair as he looked about. Anya looked far more relaxed, sipping a smoothie through a straw.
Willow gave a little wave as he approached. “Morning Xander.” She forced a smile and nodded, “Anya.”
Xander quickly locked into step with her. “So, any news on the Faith-front?”
Willow shook her head. “Giles didn’t go into any details. He just said that there would be updates galore for everyone when we arrived.”
“He does like being dramatic, doesn’t he?” Anya observed, “I now, because of it, I have to walk.”
“Well, you didn’t really have to come. It’s kind of a core group thing.” She backpedalled when Anya frowned at her, “But, uh, it’s nice that you’re being so, supportive.”
Anya rolled her eyes and gestured at Xander. “Oh, he wouldn’t even leave his house on his own. He’s paranoid.”
Xander held up his hands defensively. “The point that I was making was that with Faith and me, there’s a little thing called history. Lot of pent up feelings there, that’s all I’m saying.”
Willow raised her eyebrows in amusement. “Uh-huh, sure. It’s just that, with all Faith’s angry, psycho-bitch ranting yesterday, your name didn’t actually come up.”
“Well see, you’re just proving my point.” Xander replied, before nodding sagely, “The deepest wounds are always the hardest to see.”
Anya eyed him suspiciously. “You seem very proud of the fact that she wants you dead.”
Xander smiled nervously. “N-no, it’s just, uh, safety in numbers is the key. The three of us can totally take her.”
Anya shook her head. “Xander, the only reason I’m walking with you right now is that I’m hoping that Buffy found and killed this Faith girl last night.”
Willow was alarmed. “Hey! There’s... There wasn’t any killing, okay. Maybe some crap... beating-out-of or actually, ass-kicking is a more normal phrase.” Willow frowned, “But no killing. And besides, there was no ‘finding’ of anybody. Buffy pretty much invited Faith over for a little chat last night.”
Xander stopped on the sidewalk and looked at Willow. “Wait a sec, did I miss something? The Buff went to meet with Faith alone? Yeah, because that went so well when she went on her own to have a sit down with the Master, or pre-chipped Spike.” Then Xander added agitatedly, “Oh wait, except that she never did those things!”
Willow nodded in vigorous agreement. “Exactly. Although there is the whole ‘Faith is a special case’ deal.”
“Yeah, a special nutcase.” Xander quipped.
“You know what I mean, it’s just that she used to be a goodie.” Willow sighed guiltily as she started walking again. She thought back to last night and Tara’s reading of the Tarot cards, and about the signs the other witch had seen there. ‘A confluence of events’ was how she had described it. Like somehow things were being manipulated and set in motion for some secret reason. Judging by the anxiety on Tara’s face it hadn’t been one of those ‘good’, well-intentioned reasons. Willow was even tempted to be all melodramatic and used words like ‘sinister’ or ‘dark purpose’. But Willow didn’t really know enough detail to tell anybody anything conclusive, and there was the fact that in doing so she’d be mentioning Tara.
But she still needed to fess-up to what she had done. “But, the thing is, and don’t judge me for this, but I might’ve.... told Riley about the meeting.”
Xander seemed surprised. “You did?”
“Only a little!” Squeaked Willow, “I-I just thought, better safe than ‘sorry, is that my knife in your back?’”
Xander made a calming motion with his hand. “Hey, I’m on your side here. I suggested the very same thing to the Buffster before, but she was all set on giving Faith the benefit of her doubt.” Xander gave Willow a soft, comforting smile, “Don’t worry Will, you did the right thing.”
Then Anya piped up to loudly complain. “But I thought we were all not trusting the Initiative together and being all threatened.” She folded her arms crossly, “Now I feel excluded again. You’ve excluded me.”
Xander moved closer and tried to reason with her. “Well, y’see Aan, it’s like this. There a three different types of groups in our lives. Those people are trying to kill us now.”
He held his hand at his waist. “Those people who’ve tried to kill us in the past.”
He raised his hand a little further up, to his chest, “and those people who have yet to try and kill us. They’re at the very top of people we can trust.” He put his hand up near his neck, “And that’s where Riley and his buds are, above Faith.”
Anya thought about it and seemed mollified. “Hmn. That does seem logical.”
“And a little cynical,” Willow commented. “Wouldn’t it be nice to be a little more trusting about people?”
Anya nodded. “Perhaps, but that just means that if Faith did attack us right now, you’d be the first to die, while Xander and I make our escape.”
“Hey!” Willow protested.
“And... Hey girls, look, we’re here.” Xander said loudly, gently taking Anya by the arm and steering her towards Giles’ front door.
Willow scowled after the both of them, again wondering why Anya had to horn in on everything they did these days. She’d lived for a thousand years, didn’t she have anything else in her very long life to attend to. Like a cactus. Or an ant farm.
‘Well, I’ll show them. Maybe I’ll get a pet instead. Yeah, like a cute little kitten to play with. That’s a thing that witches do, isn’t it?’
Another thing witches do is use fearsome magical spells to deter nasty slayers from pummelling them, and then watching that same slayer pummelling obnoxious ex-demons.
Willow sighed. She was such a cranky head in the morning.

*~~*

Buffy had only been at Giles’ a few minutes, and had yet to share with him her news, before Xander, Anya and Willow wandered in through Giles permanently unlocked door.
She couldn’t resist smirking over at her former Watcher. “Giles, do they not have burglaries in England, is there some ye olde gentleman’s code over there or something?”
Giles smiled patiently around his mug of tea. “Yes Buffy, I do tend to lock the door when I’m out, or when I’m not expecting visitors. Now,” He gestured to Buffy, “You can lock the door if you want.”
Buffy did just that, skirting around an expectant looking Xander and Willow, murmuring a polite hello at them as she did so. She turned back to see all three took their seats and looked at Buffy with varying degrees of curiosity.
Xander, leaning against the back of the sofa, spoke up first. “So, how did the meeting with Faith go? ‘Cause as crazy plans go it’s pretty much the latest.”
Buffy looked at him and said evenly. “I can handle Faith just fine, Xander. She came looking for me and we... talked things out. No violence.”
He at least had the decency to be surprised. “Oh, hey, well that’s... but I bet there was some name calling, right? That could’ve been... harsh, for you to handle, uh, alone.” He shrugged awkwardly, “I guess I’m glad, anyway. So what happened?”
Anya raised her eyebrows expectantly. “Did you try and kill her again?” Xander winced.
“What? No!” Buffy exclaimed, giving Anya an indignant look, “I didn’t... I wouldn’t do that. I just explained things to her, about Angel everything and what happened after her... after the coma. It was pretty intense.”
Willow frowned in puzzlement. “And she actually listened? And was all stable or repentant or whatever?” Willow’s voice was heavy with the scepticism.
Buffy couldn’t resist putting an edge to her voice as she starred at Willow. “She was starting to. It wasn’t easy but I was reaching her, getting her to understand that there were people in this world who might actually care about her. I was telling her that she could trust me, and that we didn’t have to be enemies anymore.”
She saw Willow shift uncomfortably. Xander gave them both a questioning look.
“Well?” Giles prompted.
“Then Riley blasted her with a taser-thing.” Buffy replied coolly, glancing from Giles to Willow, “He arrived, got the wrong end of the sitch and took her into custody after zapping her into unconsciousness.” Buffy folded her arms tightly and sighed, “She’s currently being held somewhere on the Initiative base. When she wakes up she’ll think I set her up again, that it was all just a trap to lure her even after I promised her that I wouldn’t.
Willow looked stricken at Buffy. “Oh, Buffy, I’m... Riley asked me questions, and he’s all psychological and tricky and I panicked, I’m really sorry.”
Buffy shook her head. “I don’t understand you. I told you that it would a bad idea to tell Riley.” Buffy reasoned and then said pointedly, “And so then the first thing you do when I’m gone, is go and tell Riley.”
“B-But I didn’t, do that first I mean. I was looking for Faith, not Riley, on campus like you said, but then Riley was at our dorm a-and he interrogated me.”
Xander didn’t like the sound of that. “He interrogated you?”
Giles also voiced his concerns. “You went looking for Faith alone?”
“W-Well not really interrogated, more asked one little question. And all I did was... I peeked around, and I-I wasn’t alone, uh; I mean there were other people around with the campus being all, uh, filled with people. And I-I wasn’t expecting Riley and I got all flustered.” She looked mournfully at Buffy, “I swear I didn’t mean to say anything to him. He was just worried about you.”
“And you couldn’t come up with something simple to tell him?” Buffy sighed in irritation. “If you’d just thought about it for two seconds Will-“
“Hey, let’s back up and get a little perspective here, okay?” Xander interrupted as he weighed in again. “Shouldn’t we look at this as a good thing? I mean, the cops can’t deal with Faith, but the Initiative has those demon holding pens, right? So, okay, she told you she was ‘sorry’ and she acted all reasonable, but she could’ve easily been playing you again? It might be best to...”
“To what, Xander? Just lock her up and throw away the key? That’s not a solution.” Buffy saw the looks on her friend’s faces and softened her tone, “Look, Faith lied to me, she lied to all of us, but that was for the Mayor, being his inside source. Believe me; with him gone she was all about the payback, because it’s all she thought she had left in her life. But she wants to change, and she can, she just needs some help.”
She looked at their doubting faces. “Guys, the bottom line; Faith isn’t a soulless demon, she’s a slayer, which makes her my responsibility. Not some government guys that, not two days ago, you all were telling me not even to trust that much. Now, are you going to be with me on this?”
Xander looked pensive before meeting Buffy’s gaze. “Sure.”
Willow glanced about before muttering. “I guess.”
“Well, I don’t like the sound of either the Initiative or Faith so,” Anya chewed on her bottom lip before saying brightly, “I abstain!”
Buffy nodded before adding dryly. “That’s a relief, you were the swing vote there Anya.”
Giles considered for a moment. “Did, ah, Riley give any indication what would happen to Faith?”
“Just that that she’d be kept sedated until I was ready to see her. And that she would get some medical attention; the commandos took her down pretty hard.” Buffy resisted the urge to glare at Willow again. “I don’t even know what Professor Walsh is going to do. Hopefully, if I explain everything to her, she might be willing to let me take Faith off her hands, but that’s assuming that Faith doesn’t take a tiny step and conclude that I had this all planned out from the beginning and start hating me again.”
Buffy looked at Giles, “So unless there’s anything else I really need to head over and see Riley.”
“Actually there is,” Giles said. “I had a visit last night, from some representatives of the Watchers Council.”
“Ah, a bunch of jet-lagged Wesley’s?” Xander smiled goofily, “Sounds like a fun-filled evening for all.”
Anya asked Xander. “And where would these people fall in that system of yours?”
For some reason Xander held up his face flat against the middle of his chest. “About there.”Anya just nodded.
Turning back to Giles Buffy asked “What did they want?”Although she could guess the answer.
“Faith, unsurprisingly. They, ah, want to take her back to England to face a... well some sort of rehabilitation, or so they tell me. They, uh, asked for my assistance in the matter. They indicated that it would be in my best interests.”
Buffy kept a tight control of her voice. “And what did you say?”
Giles allowed a small smile. “Oh, I lied through my teeth. I told them that you were meeting Faith miles from your actual location. I certainly wasn’t going to tell a special operations team the truth.”
Buffy frowned. “A special what-now?”
Giles answered delicately. “They, well they handle the Council’s trickier jobs. Smuggling, interrogation... ah, wetworks.”
Recovering, Willow stuck out her bottom lip thoughtfully. “What’s wetworks?”
Xander gave a dismissive shrug. “Scuba-type stuff.”Buffy wasn’t sure he was right on that one.
Anya stated flatly. “I thought it was murder.”
Xander looked flustered. “Well, yeah, but there could be... underwater... murder... with the snorkels.”
He mimed the snorkel.
Buffy gave Giles a measured look. “So okay, these guys are some type of hit squad then, but how dangerous are they? I mean, are they like, kill-people-type people?”
“Suffice to say they are ruthlessly efficient in carrying out their assignments. They have dispensation to do whatever is necessary to complete their duty, depending on its importance, of course.”
“And I’m betting getting hold of a rogue slayer is pretty darn important.” Suddenly Xander looked at Giles in alarm, “Uh, maybe you shouldn’t have lied to the very touchy assassins, Giles.”
Giles just smiled mildly as he cleaned his glasses. “Oh, I wouldn’t worry. As a former Watcher I am granted some measure of recognition and leniency by those who operate in the council’s employ. Although anybody else who, ah, interferes too greatly in there mission might be in a great deal more danger.”
Buffy straightened up. “Well that’s a shame, because I’m all about the interfering. The Watchers council screwed up with me and they screwed up with Faith, they don’t get a second chance.”
“But Faith does?”Xander asked pointedly.
Buffy sighed. “Yes, Xand, because she’s sorry for the things she did, the mistakes she made.” She shook her head firmly, “These Watcher guys aren’t. All they’re interested in is getting their property back.”
Buffy was already tired of defending herself, she knew it would be like this because none of them could understand where she was coming from and she couldn’t really explain. The sooner she could just show them that Faith was willing to change the better. “Look guys, I’m gonna get going. We’ll hook back up later, when I have some news, okay?”She left before they could answer.
“Be careful.” Giles called after her.

*~~*

Riley was staring through the one-way mirror when Forrest sidled up next to him. “Well, if we have to be on sentry duty, I can think of worse things to be staring at.”He gave Riley a side-on smirk.
His eyes flicked to his friend before flicking back. “She’s a killer, Forrest.”
“I haven’t forgotten, I read the file, same as you. But,” He rapped his knuckles on the see-through wall, “Ballistic glass. Plus, four armed guards behind the locked door, and she got pumped full of Angleman’s special zombie-ifying juice he uses to keep the freaks under. Reckon she’s deep in her happy place.”
Riley scowled hard at the unconscious girl in the bare room beyond. “Maybe.”
The dark-haired girl had had her clothes removed and was now dressed in pale green medical scrubs used by the research staff, which were the closest thing they had to detainee clothes in the facility. So far as Riley could tell, the techs had taken numerous blood, bone and tissue samples, plus a couple of more invasive procedures, like a spinal tap- which had made Riley a little uneasy. Riley had promised Buffy to look out for Faith. And that promise was weighing heavily on Riley at the moment.
“Still,” Forrest continued, keeping his voice light, “’Nother slayer? She sure looks different. I mean, Buffy’s cute an’ all but...”
Turning his head slightly Riley also kept his voice light. “I’d watch yourself there, Agent.”
Forrest chuckled genially. “Relax, man. Just making conversation. But she is smokin’. Should come with a warning label, but damn, slayer-recruiters do have an eye for the ladies.”
Riley watched as Forrest stepped a little closer to the glass, tilting his head to watch Faith, who was currently lying on her side on top of a slim mattress, turned away from them both.
Forrest spoke up again. ”So, how d’you does that works anyway? The whole getting to be a slayer-gig?
“Not sure. In this instance I don’t think it did work.” Riley stated flatly, “The whole ‘killing humans’ part is where I think it gets a little patchy.”
“A soldier who thinks killing people is wrong?” Forrest asked as he glanced backwards, “Isn’t that an oxymoron or something?”
“You know what I mean; Soldiers... We are trained to deal with the situations we come across, with all the craziness. We watch each others backs. And we have superiors to answer to. It’s just... different.”
Forrest shrugged. “Yeah, but our superiors are secret government types who don’t answer to anyone but each other. I’m not sure normal folks would take that as much of a comfort, or see the difference.”
Riley frowned at that. “What are you talking about?”
Forrest’s tone was still relaxed, but Riley thought that it was started to carry a nasty undertone. “Buffy and this chick have to work in secret too, right?
“So?”
“So, Faith makes a mistake and then what? She’s suddenly wanted by the cops? Ends up half-dead in some hospital somewhere, what’s up with that? Where’s her training, or her superiors, the people she answers to, who should be watching her back? And why aren’t they here dealing with her?”
Riley was getting irritated. “You sound like you’re defending her?”
And just like that Forrest’s friendly tone was gone. “Hey man, your girl was doing all the defending last night from what I could see, willing to go to the mat for her buddy here. I almost had to put her down my own self.”
Riley shook his head at that. “I don’t think it would’ve gone the way that you think.”
But Forrest kept pressing. “Point is; you saw how Buffy reacted, all self-righteous, like she was in the right. Who does Buffy answer to, at the end of the day? How is she different from this Faith chick?”
Riley shook his head. “This isn’t about Buffy.”
Forrest turned towards him and raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t it? What makes Buffy better than this Faith gal? One got caught by the cops, maybe? You saw how Buffy is, trying to get her way. Always trying to take charge, asking questions, sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong? She ain’t accountable to anybody.”
Riley bit down his irritation. “I’ve seen Buffy in action, Forrest. I trust her judgement.”
Then Forrest gestured to the figure through the glass. “And you’re saying you weren’t just a little bit surprised by the way she reacted about Faith? That maybe we might be missing something about all this slayer stuff?”
Riley didn’t say anything to that; he didn’t have a definitive answer. Maybe he wasn’t sure as to the connection between the two girls. But he’d give Buffy whatever time and space she needed to explain herself.
Still, Riley found himself staring harder at Faith’s back. The fact that Buffy hadn’t mentioned her or that there was even the possibility of another Slayer, a homicidal one, puzzled Riley.
Riley rubbed his eyes, feeling like he was going to get a tension headache from mulling over all these questions coupled with lack of sleep. He hoped that Buffy got here soon, but she’d said she wanted to talk Faith over with her friends first. Riley vaguely wondered if he’d gotten Willow into any trouble with his rash action.
Then he saw Faith move.
Riley blinked. She must just be shifting in her sleep. There was no way she should be coming awake that fast. Three taser blasts followed by multiple injections that could keep even the largest HST nicely peaceable and drooling.
But he still saw her limbs uncoiling and her head lifting.
“Jesus.” Forrest muttered. He wasn’t so curious now, merely amazed and a little worried. “Maybe we shoulda put her in restraints as well.”
“Inform Dr. Angleman that his patient just woke up. Now.” Riley told Forrest as he moved swiftly over to the door and opened it, “We’ll make sure she doesn’t start any trouble.”
Outside in the corridor, he saw the men snap to attention. Riley tried to gauge if they’d be enough to detain the slayer if she tried to make a break for it. If she was anything like Buffy... they might have to put her down hard.
He really did hope Buffy got here soon. On a lot of levels.

*~~*

Collins scowled down at the table. “So, what is it?”
Smithy shrugged. “Not sure. But it was the only thing there that stuck out. Found it by the fireplace.”
“No trace of anythin’ else.” Muttered Weatherby, “The slayers had been and gone before we got there. Looked like there’d been a bit of a barney though, some of it was all smashed up.”
“A weird smell too.” Smithy added, “Like a soldering iron had been used or whatnot.”
Collins nodded as he lit a cigarette. “Whatever it was it’s what got the attention of the 911 callers when they contacted the police.” He tapped his finger tips lightly on the table thoughtfully, “Anything else?”
“Before the fightin’, looked like they were having a picnic. Some food thrown about.” Weatherby added as of explanation. His jaw clenched stiffly. “So when are we gonna revisit Rupert, that lying sack of-”
Collins interrupted. “We don’t, we leave him alone for now.”
Weatherby spat. “’E sent us to the wrong bleedin’ place!”
Collins kept his voice firm against Weatherby’s fire, “We can’t afford to get caught up in anything else, so we stay focused on the slayer.”
Collins took a heavy drag on his cigarette as he picked up the intricate-looking metallic device with three metal prongs sticking out, each one ending in a circular loop. There were some markings on it; subtle grooves in the casing which looked more occult that anything else. Clearly it was meant to be worn in the palm of the hand, the three prongs going around two fingers and a thumb. Collins fingered it thoughtfully, not much of a lead to finding the slayer. Clearly something had happened before Smithy and Weatherby had gotten to the mansion, but what?
“I wouldn’t touch that if I were you.” A voice suddenly rang out in the hushed confines of the warehouse. Collins quickly dropped the device and pulled his gun from its holster. He whirled around to see a robed figure standing there, its arms apart in a nonthreatening gesture, “Just a friendly warning.” It finished, the voice was low and harsh, reverberating powerfully and in a decidedly unnatural way.
Just a moment after Collins had levelled his pistol, Weatherby and Smithy were beside him, a pair of shotguns pointed at the same target.
Collins, slightly thrown by the ease of their being discovered, nevertheless kept his own voice low and controlled. “And who might you be, to be giving me such friendly warnings? Hellmouth welcoming committee is it?”
There was a harsh sound that after a moment Collins realised was supposed to be a chuckle. “No, no, I’m a stranger to these shores, just like yourselves.” The figure’s cowled head tilted a little as it observed the surrounding warehouse. “Not bad for a Watcher’s safe house, a little less homely that what was used in my day.”
“I’ll give you to the count of five before we’ll all be seeing the end of your day.” Collins clacked the safety off his pistol, “And it won’t be pretty.”
“You are here searching for the slayer. I happen to know where she is, but at this precise moment she is beyond your reach.”The figure lowered its arms, “I am in the position to offer you guidance and aid in the matter. To be your ally.”
Collins nodded and gave a wry smile. “What do you think lads? Sound trustworthy?”
Weatherby shook his head and sneered. “Low, creepy voice. Sounds more like a demon.”
“Can’t see ‘is face neither.” Added Smithy.
“Well, as you can see me and my colleagues have conferred and have reached an accord-“
The harsh, whispering voice overrode his. “Before you all open fire I would like for you to consult with one of your immediate superiors. Dial this number.” The figure then recited a long string of digits that sounded like one of the Councils international contact lines, though not one that Collins was familiar with.
The figure continued. “After you make contact on the other end the code word is ‘resurgam’, explain the current situation to those that answer.” The figure’s voice was light with amusement, “That is all I ask.”
Collins narrowed his eyes and weighed the options. He didn’t like the idea of being duped again, or making a mistake that would make this tricky job even trickier. Maybe this was some mage that the Council had done some dealings with in the past, calling in a marker perhaps? He turned away. “If he twitches, shoot the bastard.”
Collins then pulled out him mobile phone, walking a short distance before dialling the number that had been spoken. He heard the dial tone, and then a number of soft rhythmic clicks like it was trying to connect to a line that was out of service. That was his cue. “Resurgam.”He repeated.
The voice on the other end announced themselves by name before asking who was speaking. Collins stiffened, apologised brusquely and told the voice on the end of the line why he was disturbing them at such a late hour. He listened to the reply for several minutes, biting down any objections that rose in his throat. His was not to reason why, his was to deliver an important package, by whatever means necessary.
He murmured a polite goodbye and ended the call before turning back to the figure. “Right then, we’ve been told to cooperate.”
Smithy frowned but lowered his shotgun.
Weatherby jeered in disbelief even as he did the same. “Bloody hell! By whom?”
“A higher authority. That’s all you need to know.”Collins regarded the robed figure, “So, about the slayer, what do you know?”
The figure said nothing, simply intoned a few words of something foreign and stepping to one side, and revealed an unconscious man clad in army fatigues. “I believe this person may be able to answer any specifics you require. He’s part of an organisation called the Initiative.”
“Never ‘eard of ‘em.” Weatherby snarled.
“That as may be, they are new, and have a rather... American approach to things. Nevertheless they are in possession of your charge. I lend this man to you as a sign of good will, to question however you see fit.” The figure’s voice, although reasonable, had a mocking quality to it that Collins didn’t like. “He will confirm some of what I have said and no doubt will have much more to add. I will learn what his fellows have planned for the slayer. I will return when I have more details.”
With that the figure vanished from sight, not in a puff of smoke or flash of coloured flame, he simply turned sideways and was gone, like a stage illusionist’s trick, stepped behind a false panel or a mirrored wall in the centre of the room.
‘Bloody unnerving.’
“Bollocks.” Smithy complained mildly, “Are you sure about this?”
Collins decided sounding confidence was best. “Higher authority, Smithy. That’s all that matters. Now, we have a job to do here, quicker the better.” He walked on over to the man, who was youngish, maybe late twenties and prodded him with his boot, “Now, lets see what this lad knows about our wayward lass, eh?”

*~~*

‘Sonuvagoddambitch... ’
Faith’s eyes flickered open as a bright overhead light stabbed at them. She squinted as she slowly moved her body, allowing herself to uncurl, trying to ignore the stabbing pains that flared in her side, back and legs, and the fiery ache that spread through her limbs as she tried to move them. She felt like she’d been worked over by a group of Southie leg breakers. Professional ones.
She sat up slowly and peered at her surroundings, already tired of that feeling of waking up and not knowing where the hell she was. Faith took in the sight of blank white walls, harsh overhead luminescence, and a single grey painted steel door with one of those sliding hatch things you see in jail.
‘Or a nuthouse... either way this isn’t looking too good.’
So Buffy had screwed her after all, and turned her over to the cops. Or maybe just had her committed. Then again, could be that this was some Watcher’s version of the pokey, but Faith always imagined them more in the way of dank, musty, stone rooms. In a castle somewhere, with chains and torches and other medieval shit. Maybe she was just twisted that way.
With a grunt of effort Faith pulled herself upright. Noticed right away that she was barefoot and now wearing green pyjama’s, which seemed to lean towards the ‘Faith gets institutionalized and now has to live on cabbage soup for her own good’ side of things. Then she saw one wall was a big-ass mirror, like in an interrogation room and there was a security camera scoping her out in one corner.
Definitely not Watcher’s, they wouldn’t be stupid enough to leave her in a room like this.
Maybe Buffy was on the other side of the glass, having a gander at the wicked crazy chick, or maybe it was a bunch of chain-smoking cops or guys in lab coats and... she clenched her jaw, suddenly Faith didn’t care.
The foggy feeling in her brain was wearing off and the sinking realisation was hitting home. She was trapped, imprisoned.
Faith felt her anger building. It was the same as what had happened before, she entered the mansion thinking one thing and Buffy turned it all around and played her, again. Lied right to her face and got her to drop her guard and then... Faith frowned. She hadn’t been punched; she’d been hit by something else. Whatever it was, her side still hurt where it had hit her, maybe a spell? Giles or Willow doing a Harry Potter with wands or something.
Bastards. Soon to be dead bastards.
To top it off she’s lost her cool body-swapping thing. The last gift the Mayor had given her, which completely sucked because she’d be looking forward to taking Buffy’s cute little body for a ride...
Faith cleared her head of stupid what-if’s and stepped off the mattress, pausing to stretch as she tried to think her way out of this. Never her strong point but still, she had to find out who was keeping her, and then she could figure out all the angles. And how would she find that out?
Deciding that she had to get their attention, Faith walked cautiously over to the door, acting all nervous and tense. Reaching out she tried to handle, lightly testing by turning it. Locked, what a shocker.
“Please step away from the door.” An electronic voice intoned from above.
Faith flinched but after a moment dutifully stepped back. ‘See how obedient I’m being? All timid and stuff.’
She glanced around, only flicking a vague glance at the mirror, like she wasn’t paying it any mind, and then backed up into the centre of the room, next to her mattress.
Faith slowly rolled her neck, grimacing at the cracking as she did so, did the same with her arms and shoulders. Then, all casual, she stretched slowly downwards; bending at the waist like it was yoga or her morning routine or something.
The she grabbed the edge of the mattress with both fists.
‘If this doesn’t work I’m gonna look wicked stupid.’
Faith whirled quickly to towards the far wall, which was no more than a few feet away, kicking out with her leg so it hit the wall; she braced hard and spun off it. Holding the mattress up for protection she ran as fast as she could at the one-way mirror.
‘Rise and shine motherfuckers!’
She punched forward hard with both her elbows, felt the inches thick glass quiver for a moment before collapsing inward into brittle shards that revealed the room beyond. She immediately heard an alarm start blaring, reverberating off the walls as she put one knee up on the lip of the window and hauled herself through.
Throwing the glass-encrusted mattress to one side Faith stared into the other room, which was empty apart from a couple of chairs, and a phone attached to one wall which a bald black guy in army clothes ‘what the fuck?’ was busily yelling into. He looked shocked and surprised by what she’d just done but he was still speaking into the receiver. “-Emergency. Again, I saying we have a containment breach in the observation wing! Hostile is awake-”
“I want another room.” Faith snarled and leapt at him. One arm lashed out, her fist pulverising the wall phone into broken plastic fragments as the other slammed against the man’s chest, pushing him hard against the wall.
The guy was trained enough to try and fight back; he knocked her arm away with his own, braced against her and swung his knee up to strike her solidly in the side. Faith ignored the flare of pain along with all the others running through her body. She snapped her head forward against his face, just powerful enough to stun him, before she grabbed him by his padded ‘bulletproof?’ vest and threw him through the wreckage of the observation window into the cell beyond. He slammed against the far wall and flopped limply to the ground.
She stepped over to the door, grabbed the handle and bolted through the doorway. Without any weapons her best chance was speed and surprise. And the four or so guys dressed in camo outfits certainly did look surprised. They all had batons at the ready, but were facing the door to her left. Throwing any caution to the wind Faith threw herself into them, punching left and right so two of the guys, big heavy looking dudes, fell backwards in surprise and pain. Faith felt a couple of ribs crack and one of the guys dropped to one knee when her elbow snapped his collarbone. The two guys behind them rushed forward, clubs held high ready to take her down. She grabbed one of the batons when it was swung her way before wrenching it free and lashing out. Clubs weren’t really her weapon of choice but she made with the backhands and quickly smashed the last two guys across the face so they scrambled away, dazed and bleeding.
Faith stepped past the two downed and groaning men in fatigues ‘survivalists?’ and looked up and down the corridor.
At the far end she saw a tall, crew-cut type level some sort of rifle at her, sight it and pause.
“Faith! Stand down now. There’s no way out of here for you.”
Faith flexed her arm, she felt tired and stabs and spasms of pain were like a map of pinpricks across her body, but the adrenaline was kicking in, the pain fading, muscles pumped and strong. Let them try and quietly put her back in a cage.
Then she sensed more movement and saw three other men appear at the other end of the corridor, rounding the corner, and kneeing into position, levelling rifles at her.
Faith turned to face the lone guy holding a rifle squarely at her. “Last warning,” He said steadily, “I don’t want to have to hurt you.”
“That makes one of us.” She growled and charged, arms pumping, legs kicking as she ran all out at him. She saw him squeeze the trigger, so she ducked down and to the right, drew back her arm and hurled the baton at him. She saw him swivel to one side and pull his rifle back as the baton flipped end over end before ricocheting off the wall where his head used to be.
Faith felt multiple stings in her back, thigh and butt as she closed on the man, felt a warm, tingling numbness and she stumbled, her muscles trembling and her reflexes misfiring as she got nearer. If she could just get through this guy...
Faith felt like the air had thickened around her, become syrupy and blurred. Faith put one hand out on the wall, somehow missed it and slid down in to her knees. She saw the man approach, rifle levelled at her, tense and cautious, even as he began to blur in her eyes and a spider web of blackness crept across her vision. She saw him raise his rifle and make some sort of hand gesture to somebody behind her.
“Faith... ” He said. His voice was so echo-y and distorted she missed what he said next.
She looked up at him, his vague shape, and smirked. “You... look...like a...dumbass.”
Everything faded to black.

*~~*

With a little caginess Buffy walked across the floor of the Initiative lot. “Professor Walsh?”
The older woman away from the table to Buffy and nodded a surprisingly warm greeting, especially compared to what Buffy had been expecting. “Miss Summers. I was expecting to see you a little sooner.”
Buffy gave an apologetic smile. “I know I’m a little late, I was looking for Riley but he’s not around. He said that we going to-”
The professor glanced down at her chart. “He’s still on sentry duty, I’m afraid. Your... friend hasn’t woken up as of yet.”
Buffy paused awkwardly. “Right. My friend. I-Is she alright?”
The Professor raised an eyebrow. “Remarkable so, given how Agent Finn described her capture. She had some minor burns and abrasions, which we’ve treated. Other that that she’s resting. I’m only just beginning to understand how remarkable slayers are.”
“Professor, about last night, there was a reason I didn’t want to involve Riley, but he... involved himself anyway.” Buffy shook her head, “I’m not blaming him, but Faith is, well, she’s my responsibility.”
“And Agent Finn had no call to commandeer Initiative resources to give you aid you clearly didn’t want.” Walsh finished briskly, “I’ve made him aware of my thoughts on the matter.”
“Oh.” Buffy “That’s good. So, if I could see Faith and maybe, take her off your hands that would be great.”
Walsh nodded thoughtfully. “Well, why don’t we wait until she wakes up? Dr. Angleman had to estimate a lot of the dosages to give her thanks to Miss Lehane’s unique metabolism. She will still be sleeping it off for the next few hours. After that, there’s no reason why we can’t discuss releasing her into your care, with some provisions of course.”
“Really? That’s... great! I’m all about provisions. But Faith...she can get better now, with my help. She really wants to change.” Buffy smiled brightly, “This whole thing’s a big misunderstanding, really.” Buffy then looked around, “Do you guys have a waiting room or something... ”
Walsh gave a small smile and gestured back to the table. “Actually, if you can spare a couple of hours I might have a mission for you. It’s a small reconnaissance job, probably a waste of a slayer’s ability, but my boys have their hands full, and-’
“No, it’s cool. Of course, I can help out.” Buffy was so grateful that saying it with a mission would feel pretty darn good right about now.
Walsh leaned over slightly and gestured to the map, tracing a line with her finger. Buffy braced her arms on the table and looked at where the Professor was pointing. “We’ve had readings of a class three sub-terrestrial moving through the sewer tunnels just on the north edge of town.”
Buffy raised her eyebrows. “Class three?” She hoped that term hadn’t been explained in the dossier that she hadn’t read yet.
Walsh straightened up. “Low-level threat. Minimal aggression, meagre defences.” The professor turned as a soldier handed her one of the blaster rifles, “They barely show up on the scanner, and occasionally turn out to be raccoons.” With that summation she handed Buffy the weapon.
Buffy made a face as she adjusted to the weight of her new weapon. It felt very... Ghostbuster-y. “Wow. You’re not crazy about raccoons, huh?”
Walsh regarded her levelly. “We always take precautions.” She reached over and picked up a head-set, “I trust you remember this? All I need you to do is pick up a visual on the thing. This will feed us the image and I can advise you from there. I don’t want to put you in any unnecessary danger.
Buffy shrugged as she took the headset from Walsh and manhandled the rifle. “Oh, that’s okay, danger’s my birthright.” Walsh pushed the point of the rifle away from her, Buffy grimaced slightly, “Sorry.”
Buffy hesitated as she was about to leave and then decided to speak up. “Um, Professor Walsh, I can explain everything about Faith and... our situation, if you want. Full disclosure. I mean, there’s, um, there’s still some stuff about all this,” Buffy glanced around and gestured, “That I’m not too clear on either.” She looked at the Professor and waited for a reaction.
The older woman nodded thoughtfully. “Well, when you get back we can have a talk.”
“Okay. Good. When I get back.” Buffy turned to go and then hesitated, “This rifle-thing is just point and shoot, right?”
Walsh nodded slowly. “Yes.”
“Cool.”
Buffy crept along what must’ve been one of Sunnydale’s older sections of sewer system. More of a runoff for the newer storm drainage network, it consisted of musty, crumbling brickwork, corroded electrical conduits, and tendrils of mossy roots and plants poking through from above ground. Buffy passed by a few passageways choked with washed up detritus. Rusty trolleys, leaves, tree branches, even a busted lawn chair.
‘Fingers crossed for coming up on one cute little raccoon nest.’
Buffy stepped out of the narrow passage into a widened grotto like area for excess runoff. Rubbish had collected in the corners, large puddles of water reflected waning light and the shadows hugged the sides of the room, dense and sinister.
‘Nice. A nice, homey little sewer. Still don’t see any movement... ’
Then she heard a low, rattling grown. Probably not a racoon, maybe a Hellmouth racoon, but still, as the sound got louder Buffy figured it as something more creature-from-elsewhere than cuddly critter. She narrowed her eyes at the other end of the runoff area, seeing another opening that mirrored the one she was standing in, and saw something moving. Something big.
Buffy pressed her hand against her head as she adjusted her headset. “Professor Walsh, are you getting this? That possible HST-make it a definite.” She saw the big shape break into two slightly less big shapes as they emerged from the shadows, all green and glisten-y, and carrying axes “And he’s brought along a friend. They seem... ”
Buffy froze as she placed them in her memory. A few days ago she’d seen similar creatures to these two being operated on by Initiative scientists in... the ‘Pit’, was what they called it. They were some sort of warrior demons. And these two moved stiffly, like they were being controlled.
‘What the Hell..?’
The two demons growled wetly as they both moved closer to Buffy, readying their axes. Buffy dropped her hands and levelled the rifle at them; see how they liked a few thousand volts of pain. Buffy braced herself, aimed and squeezed the trigger; there was a slight electronic whine before the rifle exploded spectacularly in her hands, sparks showering out of the top of it and all over the place. Buffy cried out as her arms were stung by some of the backlash, she threw the still sparking rifle away from her so it clattered to the ground. Limbs numbed slightly, Buffy took a shaky step back and turned to retreat. But before Buffy could move any further a heavy metal grating slid down over the opening, trapping her.
Buffy turned gasping, almost stunned by the level of betrayal. Walsh has set her up to die here, for what reason she had no idea, but it was a serious attempt. Her eyes darted, no other exit from here except past the two ferocious-looking demons that happened to be locked in here with her.
The one, weird errant thought that whirled through her head was that this was a pretty close approximation of a deathtrap, like the dumb ones from all those comic books she read to Faith last summer. Not so funny now though.
Thinking quickly, Buffy took the offensive and darted out of the alcove straight at the two demons, before they could crowd her and hack her to death. She jumped off the concrete lip into a double kick, a quick strike against both demons. She ducked an axe swing by the quicker one to her right, smashed a fist across its face and kicked it in the leg so that it fell to one knee.
Bracing against its shoulder, she kicked the second demon high and hard in the chest as it came at her again, a satisfyingly solid impact left it reeling backwards. Buffy straightened up just in time to be smacked in the face by the first demon’s axe haft, as the demon twirled it around in an uppercut. Buffy staggered and turned just in time to block a similar attack by the other monster’s axe, its blade stopping mere inches from her body as she caught the handle in her grip.
Buffy struggled valiantly. These things were aggressive and almost as strong as her. They also seemed to understand the rudiments of teamwork, something she was brutally reminded of when the second demon struck her hard and fast in her lower back, a short sharp strike with the haft of the axe. Buffy jerked and cried out in pain, losing her leverage and allowing the first monster to drag her around and throw her tumbling to the ground.
Buffy scrambled to her knees as the two monsters surged forward, swinging their axes with a scary efficiency. She managed to dodge and duck the first two swings as she backed up towards the wall, batting one clumsy axe stroke away with her forearm as she looked for an opening. These two were aggressive and they were getting more so as the battle continued. She saw that they were almost getting in each others way as they moved to attack her. She could use that to her advantage.
Buffy barely managed to grab one swing that was aimed squarely at her throat, catching the weapon just below the axe head and pushing it down and back as she fought against its murderous strength. The other demon swung its weapon in a long, powerful overhead strike, attempting to neatly split her head in two. But Buffy pushed the other axe up a bit to deflect the heavy blade, instead the blow was deflected, the top of it glancing off her head and dislodging the headset from off of her head so it fell to the floor.
Buffy spun around into the arc of the demon’s weapon, slamming an elbow into its slimy tentacled face and then spinning to kick it low in the groin. The demon staggered away, in pain from both strikes. Buffy used all her strength to push it backwards as hard as she could, so it crashed against the low concrete lip. Ducking the other monsters strike almost on instinct, Buffy punched it twice in the gut, hard, before she swung it around and knocked it back into its friend.
Then Buffy knocked its axe away, punched it hard again in the gut so it folded at the waist, Buffy snapped a powerful right cross at the demon behind it, slammed a knee up into the squirmy face of the first, snapping its head back and up, before spinning and jump kicking it again in the stomach. Buffy felt something give under her boot, a crack of tough skin or scaly hide, and the demon fell down even as it was knocked to the side, its fellow barrelled forward from behind to attack her.
Buffy was pushed back as she grappled with it; its foul, fetid breath caught her in the face as it jammed her up against the wall. She jabbed her head forward to butt the thing, but it was a feint to get it to jerk its own head back, and then pushed forward and spun the demon- straight into the oncoming axe of his friend.
There was a sickening squelch as the blade hit home and the first demon fell heavily to the ground. The other demon barely registered the kill, simply stepped over and swung tirelessly at Buffy again. Buffy ducked under it, glad of her nimbleness and small size, and came up the other side. She then blocked its lumbering follow up slash, caught the axe, reversed it, then slammed a brutal elbow up into its face. She wrenched the axe out of its grip and sent it flying to one side.
The demon lashed out in a rage and caught her with a solid hit to the face that knocked her flying. She landed badly and ended up on the ground. Growling the demon then clambered over to pick up its axe, feet splashing through ankle deep water as it grasped for the weapon.
Buffy saw the water and the taser-rifle that was still sparking nearby and quickly and tossed it into the murky pool. The effect was colourful and instantaneous; the demon stiffened and squealed as bright, brilliant arcs of electricity leapt and danced across its sizzling form, its body convulsed for almost a minute in shuddering death throes before finally falling to one side, splashing limply to the ground.
Panting, Buffy looked around, making sure that both demons weren’t going to be getting up again. Then she saw the headset, lying on the ground where it had fallen, its camera pointing away from the whole pitched battle. Walsh probably thought that Buffy was dead, hell Buffy had thought that for a moment there, before all her anger and slayer thinking had taken over. Result: two dead demons. But it had been close call, closer than she’d liked.
Buffy was pissed, but it was a cold, seething anger. Walsh wanted her dead, and at this moment thought that she’d succeeded, knowing that Buffy would never return from the ‘oh so routine’ mission she’d sent her on. Buffy stalked over to the headset, time to give Walsh a rude awakening because she clearly had no idea who she was dealing with...
Buffy paused, thinking. If she announced to Walsh that she was alive then that would definitely put Faith in serious danger. She was Walsh’s prisoner, her hostage at the moment, but god knows what they would do to her if Walsh felt cornered, if she thought that Buffy was still a threat to her. Or whatever thought processes that crazy bitch was using, Buffy really didn’t know.
But if Buffy stayed dead, even for a little while, then that bought her some time, time enough to warn her friends and go to ground, time to figure out what the hell had just happened, time enough to figure out a way to rescue Faith, who was now a prisoner of people Buffy now considered the enemy.
Buffy looked around, two dead demons and no dead Buffy didn’t look for a very realistically successful deathtrap. Buffy would have to make it look a lot more believable, and then she could work out her next move.
Buffy went over to one of the downed demons and picked up its axe.
‘Right. Time to make this look more convincing.’
Buffy went to work.
- 5
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- 7
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