The Gift, Take Two
by Dafmeister
Rating: R

What the devil is the matter with that girl? Giles glanced over the customer’s shoulder to see Anya still pacing the floor of the Magic Box, making minute adjustments to the displays.

The ex-demon had been acting strangely since the engagement party. Giles knew that something had happened that night, something involving Faith. Moments after Faith had entered the kitchen, Xander had come out glowering, obviously angry, but he had concealed his feelings as soon as he rejoined his friends. Giles had just barely spotted the change, and the others all seemed oblivious.

All but Anya. Giles was watching for a reaction from her, and he didn’t have long to wait. She had immediately realised that something was wrong, that something had happened between him and Faith in the kitchen. After a few moments she had left the room, searching for Faith, Giles assumed. Faith had come back soon after, her face a mask of indifference, and had spent the rest of the evening sitting quietly, always slightly outside the circle of the group. Anya didn’t come back for some minutes after that, and when she did appear she had seemed unusually contemplative.

Since then, Anya had been rather distracted. She spent most of her working day fiddling with the displays or simply prowling around the store. At least half a dozen times, Giles had been sure she was about to ask him something, but each time she had simply muttered something about stock levels or pricing. Frankly, she was getting on his nerves.

As the customer left the store, leaving the two of them alone, Giles decided he’d had enough. "For God’s sake, Anya, would you just spit it out?"

Anya’s head jerked up. "What? Spit what out?"

"Whatever it is that’s been bothering you all day." Giles switched the kettle on and began hunting for the teabags.

"Oh, right, a metaphor…" The attempt at humour fell flat. "I… I want to know about Faith."

"Faith?" Giles looked up momentarily from filling the teapot. "I’m not sure I understand. What exactly is it that you want to know?"

"I want you to tell me about her." Anya sat down at the research table and began picking fretfully at her nails. "I mean, I don’t really know much about her. I know she helped the Mayor with the whole Ascension thing, and I know everyone was really scared when she came out of her coma last year, but I don’t know who she is… Am I making any sense?"

"I think so." Giles carried the teapot and two mugs over to the table and sat down. "I suppose I ought to start at the beginning. Faith arrived in Sunnydale at a very bad time. Buffy was still mourning for Angel, and we were all rebuilding our relationships with her after she ran away that summer. Buffy also had to help her mother come to terms with learning about her other life. I think we were all too busy holding the group together to think about integrating anyone new into the mix. Not that Faith had much choice about when she arrived, she had been pursued all the way from Boston by a vampire called Kakistos-"

"Kakistos? As in ‘Worst of the Worst’, cloven feet, that Kakistos?" Anya broke in.

"You know of him?" Giles asked, surprised.

"Giles, I was a demon for over a thousand years. Kakistos was legendary when I was just starting out."

"Yes, well, in any event, Kakistos had killed Faith’s Watcher. Faith managed to escape and she fled here, hoping Kakistos wouldn’t follow." Giles poured the tea before continuing. "Unfortunately, Faith had inflicted a disfiguring injury on him, and he wanted revenge. He managed to corner Faith and Buffy, but they were able to destroy him."

"And…"

Smiling gently at Anya’s impatience, Giles continued. "The Council decided that Faith should remain here and work with Buffy. Faith could be a trifle… abrasive, at times, but things were progressing quite nicely until that harpy Gwendolyn Post appeared."

Anya was startled by the sudden venom in Giles’ voice. "Who’s Gwendolyn Post?"

"She was a Watcher." Giles sighed. "I vaguely recognised her name. She arrived one night while Buffy, Faith and I were patrolling and announced that she had been send as Faith’s new Watcher. What I didn’t know at the time was that she had been expelled from the Council shortly after I came to America. She was here looking for a demonic artifact, the Glove of Myhnegon. To make matters worse, it was right then that Xander discovered that Angel had returned and Buffy was hiding him from the rest of us. Post took advantage of the general atmosphere of mistrust to set Faith against Buffy – classic divide and conquer tactics. Eventually the deception was revealed and Faith worked with Buffy to defeat her, but the damage to their relationship was enormous and they never managed to repair it.. After that Faith was always more distant."

"Sounds like you’re making excuses for her." Anya said, watching Giles critically.

The Watcher shook his head. "That’s not my intention. Faith made some very serious mistakes that year, but she was not the only one."

"Go on." Anya sat back, sipping gently at her tea.

"After that, we rarely saw Faith apart from when her Slayer duties required it. There was a period after that Christmas when I hoped she and Buffy making some progress, but it came to nothing in the end. It was during this period that Xander’s ‘encounter’ with Faith occurred." Giles automatically began polishing his glasses. "Fighting has, or at least had, a tendency to get Faith rather… stimulated. That night, she was involved in a rather awkward engagement with several of the Sisterhood of Jhe. Xander helped her extricate herself, and Faith’s libido did the rest. I suspect that a great deal of Xander’s hostility toward her stems from that night."

"What do you mean?"

"To Xander, that night had a real meaning; he later said that he felt they had a ‘connection’ because of it, but I think that Faith simply found him… convenient."

Anya frowned. "She used him?"

"In essence, yes. Had Xander not been available, I expect she would have found another… companion. Coming so soon after his break-up with Cordelia, I don’t think Xander was emotionally able to accept that it had simply been a one night stand for her." Giles paused for a moment, collecting his thoughts before proceeding. "Shortly after that, everything went to pieces. There was an accident – Buffy and Faith were engaged in a running battle with a number of vampires when they encountered a human in an alley. Faith reacted on instinct and staked him before Buffy could stop her."

Anya nodded. "The Deputy Mayor, I remember hearing about it."

Giles sighed. "It wasn’t the first time such an accident had happened, but I can’t recall an occasion that had such dire consequences. The two of them initially feigned ignorance of what had happened, but when Faith suspected that Buffy was about to confess, she pre-empted her and told me that it had been Buffy who killed Mr. Finch. Fortunately for Buffy, I spotted the deception. By that point I had been dismissed from the Watchers and Wesley had arrived, so I was working unofficially, but I hoped to deal with the matter without involving him or the Council. Angel was assisting in that regard, but somehow Wesley got wind of what had happened and called in the Council’s retrieval team – trying to assert his authority, I suppose. In any case, it backfired; Faith escaped. Eventually, Buffy and I convinced Wesley to allow Faith to remain here, subject to certain assessments, but it was too late. I think Faith had become convinced that none of us could be trusted or would ever value her, so she allied herself with someone who she thought would."

"The Mayor."

Giles nodded. "Exactly. Not long afterward, Faith’s defection was revealed. She captured Willow during a raid on City Hall and came very close to killing her. She did murder Professor Lester Welch, although that actually worked in our favour."

"Excuse me?" Anya looked bemused.

"His death drew our attention to his work, exactly the opposite of what Wilkins had intended. We learned that he was only invulnerable until he Ascended, something we might never have discovered in time otherwise."

Anya nodded her understanding. "So what happened with Faith?"

"She poisoned Angel, to distract Buffy from preparing for the Ascension. We discovered that there was a cure for the poison, the blood of a Slayer. With some help from Willow and her computer, Buffy tracked Faith to the flat Wilkins had set up for her, intending to feed her to Angel. In the end, Buffy stabbed Faith with her own knife and Faith jumped off the building onto a passing truck. Buffy resorted to using her own blood to save Angel-"

"He fed on her?" Anya asked, not quite believing what she was hearing.

"By that point, Angel was delirious, I don’t think he had much conscious control of his actions." Giles didn’t sound entirely convinced, but Anya let it go. "In any case, Buffy recovered, and while she was at the hospital she learned that Faith had survived but was in a coma. We defeated the Mayor, and a few months later, Faith woke up. You know what happened from then on."

Anya nodded. For a few moments, she was silent, thinking over what she had heard. "What about before? Before she came to Sunnydale?"

Giles shook his head slightly. "I don’t know very much, except that she’s grew up in Boston. Faith never really talked about her background. I didn’t even know her last name until we started working on her new identity. She opened up a little more to Buffy, at least in the beginning, but Buffy never revealed what she had said except in the most general terms. "

Anya thought this over, then got up from the table and began working again – really working, not just fiddling like she had been doing. After a minute or two, she turned to Giles again. "Why did you trust her, when she came back?"

"I saw fear." Giles’ voice was barely above a whisper.

Anya hadn’t known what answer to expect, but that certainly wasn’t it. "Fear? That’s it? She walked into a room full of people who’d happily kill her and you didn’t expect her to be scared?"

"I have never seen Faith afraid before. None of us have, except Buffy. Tara was right – Faith was afraid that we wouldn’t believe her, afraid of what would happen if we didn’t." Giles began clearing away the tea things as he spoke. "The fact that she not only felt that fear, but came all this way to face it, made me take her seriously."

Anya nodded slowly, the focussed, objective expression she had tried to maintain through Giles’ history lesson softening into sympathetic concern. "Do you… do you think she’ll be okay?"

"I really wish I knew." Giles leaned against the counter, his shoulders slumped; suddenly, he looked awfully tired. "I’ve tried to reassure her, and Buffy, but the truth is that she’s in for a very difficult time. She’ll have enough to deal with facing her own demons, but so much depends on other people…"

"Other people meaning us, the Scooby Gang?"

A tired nod. "Yes, all of us, but particularly Xander and Willow. If either of them begins to actively oppose Faith’s presence here, it will tear Buffy apart."

"We’ll just have to make sure that doesn’t happen, then, won’t we?" Anya replied, her usual tone of forceful good cheer reasserting itself.

Giles smiled back at her. One down.

*****

"Damn it, B, just let it go, already!" Faith pushed through the door to the Magic Box a few days later, walking unaided and practically vibrating with annoyance.

Buffy came through the door right after her. "Faith, you heard what the doctor said! You shouldn’t be straining your leg yet. Just because the cast’s off, that doesn’t mean you’re done healing."

Faith span around to face the older Slayer, ignoring the irritated glare that Giles was shooting at the pair of them. "There was nothing on the x-rays, there’s no pain, everything’s five by five. The doc was just coverin’ his ass ‘cause he couldn’t believe how fast I heal."

"Okay, fine, just don’t come running to me when your leg snaps off!"

"B, think about what you just said for a sec."

"Thank you for shopping at the Magic Box, please do come again." Giles said in his best ‘genial shopkeeper’ voice, as he handed a bag to a middle-aged woman, who was looking rather warily at the two Slayers. "Please ignore the bickering children."

The customer beat a hasty retreat past a sheepish Buffy and an openly smirking Faith. For a moment Giles wondered if the previous three years had actually happened. "Well, if the two of you have had enough fun alienating my clientele, what can I do for you?"

"Sorry, Giles," Buffy said as she sat down at the table and pulled a newspaper out of her bag. "We were just at the hospital getting Faith’s cast taken off, and she decided she’d rather come here than go home and rest."

Faith growled. "Okay, B, let me spell it out for you. Hospital. Cell. Basement. Hospital again. Bedroom. Noticing the pattern? I’m tired of being cooped up!"

"Yes, well, you’re certainly looking better, Faith." Giles said, trying to smooth the waters.

"Thanks, Giles. Now I just need to convince Hawkeye here." Faith indicated Buffy with a nod of her head, then caught Giles’ look of confusion. "Hawkeye Pierce? You never saw M*A*S*H? I just lost all respect for you." She stalked over to the table and flung herself down on a chair.

Giles shook his head and changed the subject. "Is there something interesting in the newspaper today?" he asked Buffy.

Buffy answered without looking up from her reading. "If there is, it’s not in the want-ads."

"You’re looking for a job?" Giles asked, a little surprised.

"Yeah, it turns out Mom was right; bills really don’t pay themselves." Buffy’s tone was the one Giles had come to know as ‘I’m scared but I can’t let anyone see it’.

Giles put his hand on his Slayer’s shoulder, seeking to reassure her. "Buffy, if you need money, I can help you."

Buffy looked up at him and smiled weakly. "Thanks, Giles, but I’ve can’t live on handouts forever. Of course, if something doesn’t turn up soon, I might not have an option."

"I take it the search isn’t going well?" Giles asked, giving her shoulder a final squeeze before returning to the counter.

Buffy snorted. "Seems like as soon as a potential employer hears the words ‘college dropout’ they can’t give you less attention."

"Hey, at least you made it through high school." Faith remarked, staring up at the ceiling. "Right now, I got the choice between slinging burgers at the Double Meat Palace or pouring mochas at the Espresso Pump." She looked over at Buffy. "I think I‘ll go for the mochas – no stupid uniform, no burger grease in my hair."

In spite of herself, Buffy couldn’t help laughing a little. "Sorry, I just can’t see you as a waitress, Faith."

"It’s either that or I get leathered up and find myself a street corner, and my conscience doesn’t bug me that much."

"There must be something else you can do, some skill you have." Giles protested as Anya emerged from the basement, carrying a clipboard.

Faith shot him a look the screamed ‘Are you serious?’ "Giles, there’re three things I’m good at; Slaying, screwing and shakin’ it on the dance floor, and I think those last two are kinda connected."

"Oh, sex talk! That’s always fun! Giles turns such funny colours." Anya burst out – this was much more interesting than stocktaking.

"Yes, thank you, Anya, but we are not actually discussing sex." Giles said with an air of long-suffering dignity. "Faith was simply expressing her pessimistic view of her job prospects."

"What can I say? I’m a specialist." The younger Slayer shrugged.

Giles suddenly had an idea. "What about Xander’s construction site? Perhaps he knows of some vacancies there, and both of you certainly have the strength and stamina for construction work."

Buffy thought about the idea for a moment. "It’s worth a shot. What do you think, Faith?"

"Yeah, why not. Might cause a few problems, though."

Buffy looked confused. "What do you mean?"

Faith laughed. "Come on, B! You and me, tight jeans, getting all sweaty, lots of bending and flexing. I’m just saying, some guys might find that a bit distracting."

"You think?" Buffy blushed and smiled slightly.

"I told you, B. Hot chicks with super-powers."

*****

My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings,

Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!

Spike stood in the electrical tunnel and surveyed his handiwork. From the outside, a ventilator grill covered the steel door. A concealed catch released the grill, which could then be swung aside to allow access. With the grill closed, the door was all but undetectable.

No more tossing a blanket over my head and dashing for the sewers. Spike locked the door, set the grill in place, and swaggered off down the tunnel, whistling tunelessly. I wonder if Willy’s does a lunch menu?

*****

The world span around her.

Air rushed past her face.

Faith hit the ground shoulder-first, automatically tucking her head in and bringing up her arms, guiding herself into a roll that had her coming upright within a second of landing. Her opponent was already following up, however, and as Faith came to her feet, she was forced to defend against a savage series of kicks. Step by step, she was forced to give ground. As she blocked strike after strike, Faith desperately searched for an opening to counter-attack, but her assailant was just a shade too fast. A final kick penetrated her defences, slamming into her just below the ribs, knocking her over backwards and driving the air from her lungs.

"Are you okay?" Buffy was immediately on her knees beside Faith, her expression worried. "It’s too soon, I said it was too soon for you to be training again, you’ll get hu-"

Faith cut her off with an impatient wave of her hand. "I’m fine, B. I’m just really out of practice." Accepting Buffy’s offered hand, Faith got to her feet. "You’ve been workin’ on your kicks - that last one was a killer."

The two girls began slowly circling each other once again. "So, you didn’t do much training while you were in jail?" Buffy asked, launching a quick jab that Faith easily avoided.

"I worked out a lot, there wasn’t much else to do, but that’s pretty much it. The prison system isn’t big on teaching convicts unarmed combat." Faith’s counter-attack forced Buffy back a few paces. "I haven’t had a real training session since…"

Buffy relaxed her combat stance as Faith tailed off. "Since when?"

"Since the last time I trained with you." Faith half-turned to stare out of the training room’s small, high windows. "I can’t believe that was barely two years ago, it feels like a lifetime."

Buffy stepped up beside Faith and slipped her arm around the taller girl’s shoulders. "I know what you mean."

Faith forced a slight smile. "You want to show me how to do that throw you did earlier?"

*****

"Giles, can I talk to you about something?" Anya asked as she totaled up the day’s takings. Buffy and Faith had left an hour previously. The two Slayers had emerged from the training room looking thoroughly energised; Faith in particular had a spring in her step that Giles couldn’t recall seeing since before the death of Alan Finch. The sparring session seemed to have finally convinced Buffy that Faith’s knee was fully fit, and the two of them were going out on patrol together that night.

Giles looked over at her from the display case where he was replenishing the crystal selection. "Is something wrong?"

"No, it’s just… why don’t Slayers get paid? It’s a violation of basic capitalism, the exchange of currency for goods or services. Slayers provide a service, and they get squat for it!"

"Somehow I don’t think capitalist economics were a major consideration when the system was set up, Anya." Giles replied dryly.

"Maybe not, but it still doesn’t make sense." Anya said, refusing to be put off. "If a Slayer’s working a full-time job just to keep going, she’s going to be physically and mentally tired before she even gets to the important stuff, and that’s bad for everyone. So why does it happen?"

Giles replied, a little defensively. "It’s never been an issue before."

"Why not?"

"Normally, a Slayer would live with her Watcher. Potential Slayers begin training years before they are called, and over that period, they are gradually separated from their families. The Council supplies the Watcher with extra funds to meet the Slayer’s living costs." Giles took of his glasses and pulled out his handkerchief. "That didn’t happen with Buffy. The Council didn’t find her until after she was called, and by that point, it was too late to begin the separation process. Since Buffy was living with her mother, I couldn’t think of a way to get the money to her that Joyce wouldn’t notice, so I used it to improve our resources, the library for instance. After Joyce found out that Buffy was the Slayer, I offered to pass the extra money on to her, but she refused – I think she wanted to keep some part of her daughter’s life exclusive to her. Once Buffy severed her links with the Council, the point became moot in any case. Besides, even with separate grants for Buffy and Faith, there wouldn’t be enough to maintain Buffy’s house, especially with Dawn to consider."

"So why can’t the Council give them more? I mean, how many times has Buffy stopped the end of the world?"

"Whether or not the Council can do it isn’t at issue, Anya." Giles replied, his voice revealing a hint of frustration. "The question is whether they will. Getting the Council to agree to Faith remaining here was unlikely enough. Persuading them to provide a salary for the Slayer, it would be a complete break with tradition."

"Oh, screw tradition!" Anya snapped. "It’s stupid and unfair. You basically get paid to read books and give advice, then send them out to do the actual work!"

Giles glared at her.

"You know what I mean! They’re the ones who go out every night and risk their lives. They shouldn’t have to worry about bills as well."

"Oh for God’s sake, Anya!" Giles snapped, finally losing his temper in the face of the tirade. Taking a deep breath, he calmed himself. "I’ll talk to Quentin, see if something can be done. By the way, I agree with you, I just don’t have a say in the matter."

*****

"B, catch!"

Buffy span around, her hand automatically reaching out to grasp the stake Faith threw to her. The vampire at her feet was trying to get up, but she casually kicked him under the chin, sending his head snapping back as he slumped to the ground again. Before the vampire could even lift his head, she plunged the stake home.

Faith, meanwhile, had slammed one vampire headfirst into a gravestone and was driving the other toward Buffy with a string of kicks and punches that left the demon unable to do anything but block and retreat.

Retrieving her own fallen stake, Buffy sent it flying into the chest of the stunned vampire with a snap of her wrist. As a particularly powerful kick from Faith sent the remaining vampire tumbling backwards, Buffy took the opportunity to toss the other stake back to her friend. Faith sent a nod of thanks her way and lunged at the vampire, dusting it before it could react.

"Just like ridin’ a biker." Faith remarked, smiling broadly. "You think we should’ve let one go? Y’know, spread the word that the Chosen Two are back in business?"

Buffy chuckled. "I think the news’ll spread on its own. If you want, we can stick a notice on the bulletin board at Willy’s." Laughing and joking, the two Slayers continued their patrol.

Unseen behind them, a vampire emerged from behind a crypt and walked briskly off in the opposite direction.

A little later, the vampire entered an abandoned warehouse near the docks. Ignoring the enticing smell of blood coming from the half-dead prostitute chained in the corner, he headed straight for what had once been an office.

Settling himself in an old swivel chair, the vampire put his feet up on the desk and replayed what he had seen in his mind.

So, you’re back.

CHAPTER 12: Old Wounds, New Wounds

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 its 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 derelict 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."

CHAPTER 13: Milkshake and Tears

"My God, that’s a lot of shake!" Tara’s voice conveyed a mix of astonishment and horror as she stared at the enormous chocolatey concoction the waitress had just set on the table in front of Dawn.

The teenager giggled, stirring the brown liquid with the straw. "Are you sure Willow’s okay?" she asked, looking over toward the bathrooms. "She’s been in there ages."

Tara took a sip of her iced mocha, relishing the chill after the August sun and followed Dawn’s gaze, her expression shifting to one of tolerant amusement. "She’ll be fine. She knows she can’t handle three mochas in one morning, but she just can’t help herself."

Dawn couldn’t help smiling at the flash of pure adoration in Tara’s eyes as she talked about her girlfriend. A sudden thought flashed across her mind. How come I’m okay with that? Why didn’t the monks make me homophobic? You’d think they’d hate the idea of two women in love. With a mental shrug, she tossed the question aside, knowing she’d never get an answer. "So, what’s it like living with Willow’s parents?"

"Not what I expected. I mean, her dad barely notices us at all, a-and her mom treats me like some kind of counter-culture icon." Tara looked bemused for a moment, before her faced melted into a smile. "But it’s worth it."

"And Mom hasn’t tried to burn either of us at the stake yet." Willow said from behind them, enjoying a moment of uncharitable pleasure as the two at the table started in surprise. "Which is progress."

As Willow slipped into the vacant chair at the table, Tara leaned over for a welcoming kiss. She blushed as she noticed Dawn smiling at them. "I’m sorry, we’ll be good now."

"Don’t you dare!" Dawn replied, her smile widening. "I’ve really missed seeing you guys together."

"Yeah, we have been kinda absent lately." Willow said, sheepishly.

"It’s okay, you guys deserve some alone time after what Glory did to you." Because of me. Dawn fought down the spark of guilt and forced a mischievous grin onto her face. "Just so long as you remember to put clothes on once in a while."

"Dawnie!" The two witches protested simultaneously. "We’re not… we don’t… it’s not like…"

Dawn burst out laughing as their faces burned. "Methinks the ladies protest too much!"

"Anyway," Willow said forcefully, "how’re things at Slayer Central?"

"Kinda weird. Living with Faith, it’s… it’s taking some getting used to."

"What do you mean?" Willow asked.

"Well, for one thing, morning person. It’s not like she wakes Buffy and me up, but she’s always awake ages before us, and way too perky for that time of the morning, even when she’s been out patrolling ‘til God knows when." Dawn shuddered at the thought. "And the doors! She never shuts her bedroom door, not even when she’s changing. I mean, she closes it a little, it’s not like it’s wide open, but still…"

"Dawnie," Willow asked, her face mock-serious, "have you been peeking? ‘Cause we’ve talked about this…"

"What! No, no!" Dawn blurted out. "No, God, that’s… I mean, it’s not like I have a problem with, you know, I mean I love you guys, and I think you’re great together and more power to you, but no, still liking the boys here!"

Tara and Willow made an effort to control their amusement at Dawn’s babbling, but couldn’t keep themselves from laughing. "What was that you said about protesting too much?" Willow got out between giggles. Dawn glared for a moment, then she too began laughing.

Willow was the first to regain her self-control. "So, has Faith told you what the open-door policy’s for?

"No, she hasn’t said anything." Dawn answered. "Me and Buffy have talked about it, but we haven’t asked her yet."

"Maybe she’s just trying to be open?" Tara suggested.

"Can’t get much more open than Faith." muttered Willow.

Tara ignored the interruption and continued, "I mean, maybe she’s just trying to show she isn’t hiding anything?"

Dawn considered the idea. "Could be. The best idea I could come up with was that she just hates closed doors. You know, after being in prison and all. But I don’t get why she’d do it. I mean, it’s not like we’re monitoring her all the time, demanding to know where she’s been and what she’s been doing."

"I know, sweetie, but she might feel like she has to prove something." Tara said. "I’m sure she just wants you to feel comfortable with her around."

"Yeah, I know, it’s just taking some time. I mean, I was just getting used to it just being me and Buffy, and now there’re three of us in the house again, like when Mom was alive, but not." Dawn’s face clearly showed her sorrow. "Sometimes I’m glad, ‘cause it’s not so quiet any more, but sometimes it just reminds me that she’s not there, you know?"

Willow immediately wrapped her young friend into tight hug, while Tara took Dawn’s hand in both of hers and squeezed comfortingly.

After a few moments, the embrace broke and the three girls separated, Dawn wiping tears from her eyes. "Thanks, guys."

Willow seemed reassured, but Tara caught something in Dawn’s demeanour that bothered her. "Dawnie, is something wrong? S-something else, I mean?"

For a second, Dawn was ready to deny it, but the look of honest, open concern on Tara’s face broke down her reservations. "I don’t know… it’s Buffy and Faith."

"What about them?" Willow asked, rather more sharply than she had intended, immediately on edge. I knew something would go wrong, I knew it!

Dawn, distracted by her worries, missed both the cutting tone of Willow’s question and Tara’s warning glance to her girlfriend. "I don’t know, something changed a couple of months ago, after you guys took out those demons in the warehouse. I mean sometimes they’re fine, great even, laughing together… you remember how Buffy was when she got the letter to say she had been re-admitted to college? It’s like that, and then other times it’s… it’s almost like when Mom and Dad were getting divorced. They both get really quiet, barely even talking to each other, and at the same time they’re both going out of their way to be nice to me."

Tara’s heart ached at the distress in Dawn’s voice. "Do you have any idea what’s upset them?"

"No. And I don’t think Faith does either. It’s like she’s as confused as me about it!"

In the absence of any real information, Tara went for raw optimism. "I’m sure they’ll be okay, Dawn. Remember, they’ve got a lot of history, but they’ll work it out."

"D’you think?"

"Absolutely." Tara glanced over at Willow, hoping for some support, but the redhead stayed silent.

Dawn managed a watery smile. "Yeah, I guess you’re right." She gulped down the rest of her milkshake. "C’mon, we don’t want to miss the movie."

As they gathered their things together, Tara quickly whispered in Willow’s ear. "I could’ve used some help there."

"I’m sorry, I just couldn’t lie to her."

*****

The music stopped. Faith rolled over on the bed and saw Buffy standing by the door, her finger on the ‘Stop’ button of her stereo.

"Thought I'd stop by."

Faith sat up, a cocky grin on her face. "Is he dead yet?"

"He's not going to die." Buffy replied, her voice cold. "It was a good try, though. Your plan?"

"Uh-huh. The Mayor got me the poison. Said it was wicked painful." Faith got off the bed and stood facing her enemy.

"There's a cure."

"Damn. What is it?"

"Your blood." Buffy felt a surge of vengeful joy as she saw Faith’s mask slip for a moment, surprise and fear showing on her face. "As justice goes, it's not un-poetic, don't you think?"

Faith began stalking forward, closing the distance between them. "Come to get me? You gonna feed me to Angel? You know you're not going to take me alive."

"Not a problem."

Faith smiled, almost glad that it had finally come to this. "Well, look at you. All dressed up in big sister's clothes."

"You told me I was just like you." Buffy advanced into the middle of the room, and the two girls began circling each other slowly. "That I was holding it in."

"Ready to cut loose?"

"Try me."

"Okay then." Faith stopped, less than a yard from her adversary, the air around them practically crackling with barely suppressed energy. "Give us a kiss."

Buffy jerked upright, struggling frantically to free herself from her bonds, until she realised that it was just her covers that had become tangled around her. Breathing heavily, she lay back and tried to drive the nightmare away.

It didn’t work. Shortly after three in the morning, Buffy gave up and began pulling on her clothes. Around her, the house felt claustrophobic.

At the top of the stairs, Buffy paused, then silently moved the few feet to Faith’s door.

The younger Slayer was lying on her side, facing the window. Even asleep her body seemed tense, a tension Buffy recognised growing in herself. For a few heartbeats, Buffy just stood there watching. Then she turned and crept down the stairs.

As she heard the front door close, Faith opened her eyes. After a moment, she reached out to the bedside table and picked up the stuffed panther Dawn had given her. Clutching it tightly, she pulled the covers around her and tried to sleep.

*****

The gravestones had a cold gleam in the moonlight. Branches rustled quietly in the night breeze, which carried a faint tang in from the sea. Beyond that, the cemetery was silent but for her own footsteps.

"Haven’t seen you ‘round here for a while, luv. Something up?" Buffy jumped as Spike sauntered out of the shadow of a crypt right behind her, smirking as he lit up a cigarette.

"You ought to know better than to sneak up on people with weapons!" Buffy snapped in reply, brandishing her stake to emphasise the point.

Spike just laughed. "Actually, I’m surprised I managed it. What’s the matter, Slayer? Mind not on the job?" When the blonde just turned and began to walk away, his demeanour changed. "Buffy!" She stopped and turned to face him again. The smirk and swagger were gone, replaced with worry. "I mean it. If you’re distracted, you shouldn’t be out here. There’re plenty of things that’d just love to take a bite out of you, and right now you wouldn’t even see them coming."

"Things like you, for instance?" Buffy regretted the words as soon as they were spoken, hating herself as she watched Spike recoil from her as though she’d slapped him. "I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair."

"You’re damn right it wasn’t!" Spike snarled. "Listen, Slayer, I know you’ve had a tough time of it the last year, but I’ve had it with being your whipping boy!"

"Spike, please… I’m sorry for what I said, and I’m sorry I’ve been avoiding you lately. You deserve better after everything you done for me." Buffy sat down on a gravestone, unable to meet his gaze. Suddenly, she gave a bitter laugh. "God, who’d have thought I’d actually care that I hurt your feelings?"

Spike’s anger melted as he saw tears gleaming in the moonlight. "Buffy, what’s wrong?"

"Nothing. Everything. I don’t even know any more." Buffy stared up at the moon, the tears coming more freely now. "I don’t understand this. It felt like everything was great, and nothing’s changed, but now everything hurts."

Spike perched beside her on the gravestone, silent.

"I forget about Mom." The girl’s voice was flooded with guilt. "That can’t be right, can it? It’s only been six months! I live in her house, I sleep in her room, in her bed, and I can go days without thinking about her! What sort of person am I if I can do that?"

"Buffy…"

She ploughed on, barely even aware that he’d spoken. "And Faith! God, I owe her so much… I thought I was past everything she’d done, I should be, but…" For the first time she looked Spike in the eye. "Sometimes, I see her, and the first thing I think is ‘Murderer!’ And in that moment, I hate her. I hate what she did to me."

"Do you hate me like that?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"You never betrayed me." Buffy cut Spike off as he was about to protest. "Adam doesn’t count, I had no right to expect loyalty from you then."

"So she betrayed you, and you wanted her dead."

"Worse." Buffy’s voice dropped to a whisper. "I wanted to kill her." The tears flowed faster. She didn’t resist as Spike put his arms around her and held her as she wept.

Eventually, the sobbing slowed and stopped. Spike gently released his hold and brushed a few loose strands of hair away from Buffy’s face. "Feeling better?"

"Kinda. Thanks."

"Any time. Look, what you said about loyalty… you know you have it now, right?"

Buffy nodded. "When did you turn into someone I could talk to?" she asked, smiling faintly at him as she wiped the tears away.

"Not a bloody clue, luv. Still can’t quite believe it’s happened." Spike stood up and smoothed out the back of his coat.

"You were right." Buffy’s voice was almost a whisper. "What you said to me, at the house, before we went after Glory. I don’t think I’ll ever love you."

Spike looked away, the words hurting even though he had already said them himself. "I know."

"Sometimes I wish I did." Spike looked back at her in surprise. "I know you’d always be there for me, and for Dawn."

Spike just nodded, unable to speak.

Buffy got off the gravestone and put her hand gently on his shoulder. "I don’t love you, but I do trust you, Spike."

"Well, that’s something." Spike turned his face away from her, hiding the tears.

"Look, I’m going to go visit Mom’s grave." She reached out and took his hand. "Walk with me?"

Spike gave her hand a gentle squeeze. "As my lady wishes."

As they walked off into the darkness, Buffy said, "Remember the old days, when things were simple? I wanted to kill you, you wanted to kill me, Mom still thought I was a delinquent… you ever miss that?"

"No. You had this really annoying habit of beating the crap out of me, remember?"

*****

"Magnificent, isn’t it?" Roger Wyndham-Pryce said, gazing at collection of weapons in the display case. "The burial horde of Raedwald, King of the East Saxons. You can say whatever you like about our pagan ancestors, but they certainly knew how to give their leaders a good send-off."

"Yes, sir." Julian Graves replied. "I trust you are aware that the identification of Raedwald as the occupant of the grave is at most an educated guess?"

"That’s quite correct, Mr. Graves. And completely irrelevant to our meeting." Wyndham-Pryce turned from the display and began walking briskly through the galleries of the British Museum. "I have discussed the issue of the two Slayers with several of our esteemed colleagues, and they agree that there is cause for concern. However, they will require more definite information about the situation in California before they will be willing to act. Can you arrange for some discrete surveillance?"

"I’ve already made the arrangements, sir. One of our regular intelligence-gathering units is scheduled to go on leave in two weeks. I can easily re-direct them to Sunnydale and ensure that their reports come to me personally."

"Good. Contact me as soon as you have any information."

CHAPTER 14: Happy Birthday?

On the stage a trio of twentysomething girls were strumming their guitars with more enthusiasm than skill and singing off-key, while on the floor below, the Saturday night crowd danced, talked, laughed and drank. Faith took a sip of her drink and swept her eyes over the crowd once more, the shadows on the balcony wrapped around her like a cloak.

"Never thought I’d see you up here on your own." Xander said, walking up to lean on the railing beside her. "Shouldn’t you be down there with a half-dozen guys drooling all over you?"

Faith never took her eyes from the scene below. "I’m working."

"Working?" Xander asked innocently.

"Patrolling."

"That’s funny." Xander’s voice took on a more sarcastic tone. "Patrolling looks a lot like getting tanked at the Bronze."

Faith’s eyes flickered to him for an instant, anger flaring in their depths. "There’s nothing happening on the streets, so I figured I’d come see if anyone’s trying to hunt here. And it’s Diet Coke." She raised her drink to him in a mock toast.

Xander bit back the angry response that was his first instinct and tried to set aside his mistrust for a moment. "You’re flying solo tonight?"

"B’s studying with Red. She’s got some big catch-up exam Monday, they’ve been hitting the books pretty hard." Faith tossed back the last of her drink. "Anya with you?"

"Yeah, she decided to hit the bathroom as soon as we got here."

"Cool." Faith searched her mind for a way to keep the tenuous conversation alive, but came up with nothing. "Okay, then. If you guys are going to be here keeping an eye on things, I’ll get back out there. Anything kicks off, page me." She turned and hurried away.

Xander watched her push through the crowd and mentally kicked himself. Damn it!

*****

"Lucas, are you sure about this?" Sean asked, nervously pacing the floor of the warehouse office.

Lucas pulled on a battered leather jacket and replied, his voice patient, "Yes, I’m sure. I haven’t left the nest in far too long, Sean. I want to smell the night air again. Besides, I don’t want the troops to see me spending all my time in here, it’s bad for morale."

"I know, I just wish you’d let me come with you."

"I have been on a hunt before, Sean, I know how it’s done. Remember, you’re my second in command, not my bodyguard."

"Why can’t I be both? And are you sure it’s a good idea to bring the kills back here?"

"Sean, we need recruits. Planting them and waiting for them to sprout isn’t working. The Slayers cover all the cemeteries, check all the new graves – we’re not even getting one in ten through. We have to control the process, or we won’t get anywhere."

Sean sighed in defeat. "You’re right, I know. Just be careful, okay?"

*****

"How bad is it?" Buffy asked, her voice a whisper.

Willow put down the sheet of paper and smiled. "It’s fine, Buffy. You’re going to get through this exam no problem." She took a quick look at the clock on the library wall. "I think we covered everything, you want to call it a night?"

They quickly packed their books away and headed off in the direction of Willow’s dorm. Willow chattered happily about the topics that they’d covered that evening, while Buffy remained almost completely silent, her eyes constantly scanning the darkness. Finally, she spoke. "Thanks for doing this, Will, I know you’ve got a lot on right now."

"Hey, what are best friends for?" Willow replied, her pleasure in teaching clearly evident. "Besides, if the last one’s anything to go by, I definitely want you at my next graduation."

"Of course I’ll be there! I just might not be graduating with you."

Willow glared at her friend for a second, slightly annoyed by the doubting tone in Buffy’s voice, before the ‘Resolve Face’ slipped into position. "Sure you will, you’ll be sitting right beside me, complaining about the commencement speaker and waiting to be attacked by monsters."

Buffy laughed quietly at the image her friend had conjured. "God, I never thought I’d say this, but it’s great being back at college!"

"Yeah, I’m glad you’re here." Willow slipped her arm around her friend’s shoulders for a brief hug. "I wasn’t sure you’d be coming back once the paycheques started rolling in."

"It was kind of a shock just how much they were sending me…" Buffy acknowledged. "I still don’t want to count on the Council’s money, though. I figure I’ll put aside what I can and try to finish college before they decide to screw me over again."

"Sounds like a plan." Willow agreed, sharing Buffy’s lack of trust. "What about Faith, is she doing anything apart from Slaying?"

Buffy shook her head, her earlier good cheer dissipating. "I don’t think so. I mean, I get why she doesn’t want to go back to high school, but it kind of cuts down her options. Sometimes, it feels like all she does is train and patrol."

Willow easily picked up the undercurrent of tension in Buffy’s demeanour. She stopped walking and turned to face her friend. "Buffy, is something wrong? Something about Faith?"

The response she got was barely audible. "I think it’s something about me."

"I don’t understand."

"Why can’t I forgive her, Will?" The mask Buffy had constructed crumbled under the witch’s concerned gaze, and the heartache she had been concealing began to show through. "After everything she’s done, I should forgive her, shouldn’t I? I want to, but… What’s wrong with me?"

"Oh, Buffy…" Willow wrapped her arms around her friend. "There’s nothing wrong with you! I mean yeah, I’m really glad she saved Dawn, and I’m all for the world not ending, but she did that sort of thing before, remember? She helped us close the Hellmouth, and that was, what, three weeks before she joined up with the Mayor? Maybe this is your Slayer-sense warning you to watch your back."

"No, she’s different now, I know she is." Buffy whimpered, sounding almost as if she were trying to convince herself.

"Maybe she is." Willow said, not wanting to contradict her friend in this state. "Look, Buffy, whatever happens, I know you’ll do the right thing. And I’ll be there to back you up, okay?"

Buffy nodded, wiping the tears from her eyes. "What would I do without you, Will?"

"No point asking the question, ‘cause it’s never going to happen."

With a final sniff, Buffy set them walking again. "Come on, I’m pretty sure there’s another blonde out there waiting for some Willow-time." She managed a giggle as the redhead blushed. As they walked away, she turned the conversation to less personal matters. "How’s the magic research going? Any luck finding a spell to fix Amy?"

"Nothing yet. Hecate’s invocations are really hard to break unless you’re the one who cast them. I’ve got some possibilities still to look at, though, and you wouldn’t believe some of the stuff I found while I was researching."

"Interesting stuff?"

"Oh yeah, and some of it’ll be really useful. You know, if I can ever make it work…"

*****

The area around the intersection of Third Street and Pacific Drive had never been one of Sunnydale’s showcase neighbourhoods, and things had only grown worse when the bakery closed in the 1960’s, depriving many of the residents of their jobs. Now the neighbourhood was the nearest thing Sunnydale had to a real slum. Low-rent apartments stood side-by-side with abandoned buildings, and from the outside, it was often hard to tell which was which.

When she first came to Sunnydale, Faith had been drawn to those few blocks. The area was almost an anchor for her, a reminder of the home she’d left behind across the continent, and whenever she had patrolled alone she almost always included a sweep there.

This was her first visit since her return. She had avoided this part of town since coming back to Sunnydale, afraid that it might still feel like home, that it would tell her she hadn’t really changed, that this was till where she belonged. As she walked slowly along the poorly lit streets, Faith could feel the sense of deprivation and hopelessness washing over her, clinging to her skin.

No! This isn’t who I am any more. I got out, and I’m staying out! I’m just here to do my job.

Suddenly, Faith’s reverie was interrupted by a squeal of brakes from around the next corner, closely followed by a scream that was abruptly cut off. Breaking into a sprint, Faith rounded a corner in time to see a vampire bundling a young woman into the back of a battered grey van, while her date was dragged toward the van by two others. As soon as the woman was inside, her captor sank his fangs into her neck. Faith whipped a stake out of her belt and charged.

At the sound of her footsteps, the vampires looked up in surprise. Lucas yelled, "Leave him!" and pushed his companion toward the van, before seizing his victim’s head in both hands and twisting savagely. The young man fell into the gutter, his head flopped to one side at an impossible angle. Lucas jumped into the back of the van, pulling one of the doors shut behind him. His companion was still outside, paralysed by the sight of the Slayer bearing down on him.

"Come on!" Lucas yelled, and the vampire turned to the van, but it was already too late.

Faith crushed him against the back of the van, repeatedly slamming his head into the closed door before driving her stake into his back. As the van began to move off, Faith tried to scramble inside. Lucas’ fist shot out from the darkness inside, and Faith just barely managed to dodge, but in the process she lost her balance and was left clinging to the edge of the closed door with one hand, one foot trailing on the road as her other hand desperately sought anything to grab onto. Before Lucas could pull back, the hand closed on his arm and pulled, yanking him toward the door. Faith’s eyes widened in horrified shock as the street lamps illuminated his face. Lucas snarled and flung another punch at her face. It hit home squarely on her cheek, and she was too stunned to resist, losing her grip and tumbling onto the road in the van’s wake.

*****

Giles was relaxing with a cup of tea and Paradise Lost when he heard a tentative knock at his door. A look through the peephole showed a rather shaken Faith on his doorstep. Giles quickly unlocked the door and opened it.

"Hi, Giles. Uh, can I come in?" Faith asked awkwardly.

"If you need an invitation, then no." Giles replied, years of painful experience overriding his immediate concern for Faith. He held the door open for her as she crossed the threshold. Gesturing for her to take a seat on the couch, Giles returned to his armchair. "Now, what can I do for you?"

Faith remained silent for a moment, trying to find some way to explain what had happened. "I’m sorry I bothered you, it’s just… something happened on my patrol tonight. I ran into this group of vamps. I-I knew one of them."

Giles’ expression of professional detachment immediately turned to concern and sympathy. "Faith, I’m so sorry. To see someone you know, who’s suffered that fate, it’s always difficult-"

Faith interrupted him. "That’s not what I meant. I knew him… after he died."

*****

Lucas watched as two of his vampires unloaded the woman’s corpse from the van and took it into the warehouse. He turned to the fourth member of his hunting party. "Hannah, take the van. Dump it somewhere out of sight and torch it. The Slayer’s seen it, we can’t risk keeping it." Hannah nodded once and got back behind the wheel.

Turning on his heel, Lucas stalked through the warehouse to his office, noting without surprise that Sean was already there. Closing the door behind him, Lucas finally let his anger at the night’s events show.

"Not a word, Sean, not one fucking word!"

*****

"Are you sure it was him?" Giles asked, his voice devoid of emotion.

Faith nodded. "I think so. I mean, I only saw his face for a second, but… yeah, I’m, sure." She kept her eyes fixed on the coffee table, unable to meet Giles’ cold, professional gaze.

"The others will have to know. You’d better get home now, get some rest. Tell Buffy I want to see both of you at the Magic Box tomorrow, ten o’clock. I’ll call the others and let them know to be there."

"Yeah. Okay. Goodnight, Giles." Faith let herself out. Climbing the steps from the small terrace outside Giles’ flat, she tried to fight of the wave of despair that washed over her.

I’ll never be free of him…

*****

"How can you eat that?" Buffy asked, her face contorted with disgust.

Dawn, sitting next to her sister on the couch, looked at her in confusion. "What?" She asked, around a mouthful of cold pizza. "I like anchovies, okay?"

Buffy looked slightly queasy. "Yeah, I can accept you liking them, but on cold pizza? You’re starting to eat like Xander."

"You say that like it’s a bad thing."

Buffy’s response was cut off as the front door opened, and Faith walked in. Buffy got off the couch, her worries about her relationship with the other Slayer suddenly returning. "Faith, hi! I-I looked for you, but… big town, two people, you know."

"It’s cool, B."

"You want some pizza? It’s got anchovies." Dawn asked, trying to break the tension.

"No, thanks. Buffy, Giles wants us at the Box tomorrow, ten a.m. I ran into something tonight, Giles wants everyone to know."

"What happened? Are you hurt?" Buffy asked, alarmed.

"I’m fine, just wiped. I’m going to take a bath and sack out." Faith disappeared up the stairs without waiting for a response.

In the living room, silence reigned for a moment before Dawn spoke. "You think she’s okay?"

"Yeah." Buffy nodded, as much to convince herself as Dawn. "She’s okay, Dawnie. Whatever she ran into, we can handle it." She turned back to face Dawn. "I’m pretty tired too, I’m going to get some sleep. Don’t stay up too long, okay?"

Buffy kissed her sister goodnight and began climbing the stairs. Before she had reached the top, she could hear the sound of water pouring into the bath. God, if the demons knew how much Faith likes bubble baths, they’d die laughing, she thought. As she reached the top of the stairs, her attention was caught by movement beyond the open door to Faith’s bedroom.

Her breath caught in her throat.

The room was gently illuminated by the table lamp beside the bed. Faith was facing away from the door, getting undressed. As Buffy stopped, mid-stride, she pulled her shirt off and began to pull her sports bra over her head.

Standing in the doorway, Buffy was transfixed by Faith’s movements, the way her muscles moved under her skin, the interplay of light and shadow over her body as she tossed her shirt and bra aside and began to remove her jeans. Stepping out of them, she leaned over to pick up her bathrobe from where it was lying on her bed, the generous curve of her breast coming into view, the light gleaming softly on her pale skin.

Buffy forced herself to close her eyes and step away before Faith could turn around. As quietly as she could, she fled to the sanctuary of her own bedroom. Leaning against the door, she took a deep breath and tried to calm her racing heart.

What the hell was that?

*****

Willow and Tara were the last to arrive the following morning, both witches looking like they were barely awake. They quickly joined Xander, Buffy and Dawn at the table, accepting the cups of coffee Xander offered with murmured thanks. Giles and Anya were both occupying themselves with minor jobs around the shop. As the witches seated themselves, Faith appeared from the training room. Anya took a seat next to Xander as Giles began, "Thank you for coming, all of you. Something rather unusual happened on Faith’s patrol last night. Faith?"

Giles stepped aside and leaned against the counter. Faith came to stand by the table, radiating anxiety. "I was patrolling down near Third and Pacific, and I ran into a bunch of vamps. They were trying to grab this couple off the street and haul them off in a van. They took off as soon as they saw me."

"Okay," Xander interjected, "not the standard M.O., but vamps aren’t exactly unusual…"

"I knew one of them, I think he was the leader." Faith’s voice failed her for a moment. "He… he used to work for the Mayor."

"Oh." Xander kept his expression carefully blank.

"I thought we got all of them on Graduation Day." Buffy said, her voice low.

"So did I." Xander agreed. "All the ones who were there, at least."

"So who is he?" Anya asked.

Faith took a deep breath. Just focus on the facts… "His name’s Lucas, Lucas Miller. I only met him a couple of times, but if anyone was going to survive G-Day, my money’d be on him."

Buffy looked directly at Faith for the first time. "Why?"

"He’s a thinker, a planner. Doesn’t have the usual vamp impulse-control issues, either. He’s dangerous. The Mayor thought a lot of him, used him for a lot of special jobs. That’s why I hardly saw him. He was down south somewhere making sure that spider-box got here on time when I…"

"Switched sides?" Willow finished, her voice harsh.

"Yeah." Faith had seen Willow flinch at the mention of the box. "He only got back about a week before Graduation."

"And now he’s here again." Giles said from behind her. "Do you have any idea as to why?"

Faith shrugged. "Revenge, maybe? Most of the Mayor’s vamps were with him ‘cause he was the big nasty in town, but I had a feeling Lucas actually believed in the guy. He might have a grudge against you guys."

Tara spoke for the first time. "What else do you know about him?"

"Just what I told you. The Mayor wasn’t into giving out background, and I never asked."

"I’ve contacted the Council to ask for any information they have." Giles put in. "Hopefully, we’ll hear from them in a day or so. In any case, we should begin looking for information here as well."

"Yay, research." Xander said without a trace of enthusiasm.

"Watcher diaries, Giles?" asked Willow.

"Yes, that would be a good place to start." Giles picked up a stack of old volumes and began handing them around.

Buffy stood up. "Meanwhile, I’ll go see if Willy’s awake yet."

"Anything to get away from the books, huh?" Dawn muttered, already scanning one of the diaries.

Buffy smiled without much humour. "Pretty much. You coming, Faith?"

"Sure."

*****

Hours later, Faith returned to the Magic Box alone. The visit to Willy’s had been a complete bust; the snitch knew nothing and had nearly died of fright when Faith walked in. After that, Buffy had gone to see if Spike had ever heard of Lucas, while Faith opted to look around town on the off chance she spotted the van Lucas had used. That search, at least, had turned up something – the burned out remains of the van, dumped in a side street. The brunette was feeling thoroughly despondent. She had been brought face-to-face with a past she had thought she was finally leaving behind, whatever progress she thought she had made with the rest of the group seemed to have evaporated, and she had no idea where Lucas was or what he was planning.

Faith was just putting her arm out to open the door when she became aware of the voices from inside. Several of them, apparently engaged in a heated discussion. As the door opened, the bell jangling, the voices stopped dead. Everyone turned to look at her. "Hey, guys. You got anything?"

"Er, no, I-I’m afraid we haven’t." Giles said, taking of his glasses and reaching for his handkerchief. "Did you have any luck?"

"Found the van. They ditched it."

Xander closed the book he was reading and tossed it onto the stack on the table, oblivious to Giles' pained expression. "This is hopeless. Faith, are you sure you don’t know anything else about this guy?"

"You think I’m holding out on you?" Faith snapped, reacting to the hostile note she thought she heard in his voice.

"No, that’s not what I meant."

"Enough!" Giles slammed his book down on the table. "I’m sorry. Look, we’ve all had a frustrating day, let’s call a halt. Everyone take a book or two with you, look through them at home, and we’ll meet up again in a day or two." There was a general chorus of agreement, and people began reaching for bags and jackets.

"Oh! Tuesday night, the Bronze!" Willow said suddenly. "We’re still on for that, aren’t we? Tara’s birthday?"

"Yes, of course." Giles replied. "Are we still meeting there, at eight-thirty?"

Everyone nodded, and Buffy said, "Faith and I are going to do a quick patrol after sunset, then we’ll be there."

The gang filed out of the Magic Box, discussing their plans for the party. Faith brought up the rear, in silence.

*****

"Faith, talk to me." Buffy said, the first words to pass between the two Slayers since they had left the house on their pre-party patrol. "I know something’s bothering you, you’ve barely said a word since Sunday."

"I’m leaving." Faith’s voice was calm, almost subdued, but to Buffy’s ears it seemed to resound in the night air, echoing back from the walls of the narrow alley they were walking down.

"What?" Buffy stopped dead in her tracks and grabbed Faith’s arm, spinning the younger girl around to face her. "Leaving? What? Why?"

"Because this isn’t working, B!" Faith wrenched her arm free and stepped back. "This whole me being here thing, it’s not working!"

"Faith, what are you talking about?"

"Oh, come on, Buffy! The only person here who doesn’t have a problem with me is Spike! A frickin’ vampire!"

Buffy took a step toward her, one arm half-outstretched. "Faith, I don’t understand…"

"Fine! Let me spell it out for you." Faith paused a moment for effect. "I’m still the bad guy. That’s still how you guys see me. I’ve tried to change that, but I can’t. Nothing I can do will ever make up for what I did to you. The only way I can get past it is if you guys let it go, and you won’t. Or can’t. And you know what, I can’t even blame you. You’ve got every right to curse me ‘til the day I die and then dance on my grave, but I’m through trying to play Brady Bunch with people who hate me!"

Buffy’s face was distraught as she reached out to her old enemy. "We don’t hate you, Faith. It’s hard, but please, you’ve got to give it more time…"

"Why, Buffy?" Faith dodged back out of reach. "Every time Willow looks at me she remembers me holding a knife to her throat. I tried to kill Xander. Anya and Tara are caught in the middle, trying to be nice to me without turning against the people they love. Giles wants to be all open-minded and welcoming, but you’ll always be his Slayer, and he’ll never forget that I betrayed you! And you… don’t even try to deny it, B. You think I haven’t noticed, but I have. I’ve seen the look in your eyes sometimes. The same one you had when you stabbed me!"

Buffy staggered back a pace, tears beginning to roll down her cheeks. "Oh God, Faith, I’m so sorry I let it come to that…"

"Yeah? Well, right now I wish you’d finished the job!" A scream pierced the night. "God damn it!" Faith took off at a run, barely aware of Buffy’s faltering steps behind her.

Bursting out of the alley, Faith sprinted across the road and scrambled over the fence into Sunnydale Park. Ahead, she could see a vampire feeding on a feebly struggling woman.

Sean cursed mentally as the dark Slayer charged down on him. First Lucas, now me! How the hell does she know? He tightened his grip on his intended victim. When Faith was less than ten feet away, he hurled the woman straight at her.

Faith darted to the side, stumbling momentarily as her foot caught on a flailing arm. Sean was already turning to run, but Faith’s momentum carried her on, and she ploughed into him, Slayer and vampire tumbling to the ground in a tangle of limbs. Sean finished up on top and was bringing his arm up for a punch when Faith lunged forward, head-butting him in the face. Taking advantage of his momentary disorientation, she flung him aside and began getting to her feet. Unfortunately, she hadn’t thrown him as far as she wanted, and Sean was able to kick her legs out from under her, then swing his leg back the way it had come, driving the heel of his combat boot into the side of Faith’s head. The Slayer landed flat on her back, her senses reeling. Mindful of his orders, Sean left her there and began to retreat again, but had got barely ten yards when Buffy burst out of the trees, hurdled a park bench and slammed straight into him.

The elder Slayer was on her feet in an instant, the tracks of tears on her cheeks distorted by the enraged snarl on her face. Before Sean could properly regain his footing, Buffy was on him, fists and feet swinging relentlessly, powered more by the raw emotions coursing through her than any hint of technique. For a few moments, it kept Sean off balance, but no more.

As Buffy brought her fist back for another punch, Sean’s leg lashed out and caught her in the stomach. As she doubled over, the vampire grabbed her by the throat and slammed her backward into a tree with all the force he could muster. Buffy’s head crashed into the trunk, and she collapsed to the ground, unmoving.

For a moment, Sean debated whether to finish her off, but Faith was on her feet again, stake in hand. Sean ran.

Faith skidded to a halt beside Buffy. The blonde Slayer was lying on her back, her eyes shut. "Oh God, Buffy, wake up, please…" Faith reached out a trembling hand, her fingertips gently touching Buffy’s cheek.

Buffy’s eyelids fluttered for a moment, then opened. "Ow. That hurt."

Faith breathed a deep sigh of relief. "Are you okay? Do you need a doctor?"

"No, I’ll be okay. Barely even a concussion." Buffy sat up slowly. "Did you get him?"

"No, he ran. I couldn’t leave you like that."

Buffy gave a sarcastic snort. "Couldn’t leave me. That’s funny." Faith was about to say something, but Buffy cut her off with an angry wave of her hand. "I don’t want to hear it." She pointed to the woman Sean had dumped, who was trying to get to her feet. "Let’s get her to a hospital, then we’ve got a party to go to."

*****

About the only good thing Buffy could say about the music at the Bronze that night was that it wasn’t aggravating the dull ache in her head. The pain had receded since she had arrived at the club, and now she barely noticed it. The pain of her fight with Faith was proving harder to subdue.

Skirting the edge of the dance floor, Buffy took a moment to watch Willow and Tara dancing happily together, as oblivious as always to reactions, positive or otherwise, of those around them. She and Faith had agreed not to mention what had happened that night, so as not to spoil the celebrations, and both Slayers had been putting up a façade of good cheer.

Leaving the happy sight of her friends dancing, Buffy wove through the crowd until she was standing by Faith, in the shadows beneath one of the staircases. "We need to talk."

"We really don’t."

"Faith, I’m sorry for what said. Please, talk to me?"

Faith looked down at the smaller girl, her dark eyes glinting in the lights. "What’s there to say, B?"

"You could say you’re not leaving." Buffy whispered, her voice full of desperate hope.

"I’m not." Buffy’s burst of joy died as Faith continued. "Not until we deal with Lucas. He’s part of my past, I shouldn’t just leave you guys to face him. After that, I’m gone."

"Where?"

"I don’t know." Faith shrugged. "The Council’ll probably think of something - there’s got to be other places that could use a Slayer."

Buffy placed her hand gently on Faith’s shoulder, the touch almost ephemeral. "There’s no way you’ll stay after that?"

"What have I got to stay for, Buffy?" Faith whispered. Gazing intently at Buffy’s face, she unconsciously took a step forward. "What do you want from me?"

"I…"

Faith took another step, drawn in by the pleading look in Buffy’s eyes. After a moment, she leaned forward, and their lips met.

CHAPTER 15: First Son

God, I love doing this. Tara said to herself. Slow music, dance floor not too crowded, and Willow. Most of all Willow. She slowly ran her hands down her girlfriend’s back until her fingertips skated across the top of the redhead’s buttocks. Willow murmured appreciatively, moulding her slender body against Tara’s curves, her breath hot on her lover’s neck as she slid agile fingers up into her silky blonde hair. Tara moaned softly as Willow’s fingertips gently massaged her scalp.

Tara was always slightly amused by the Scoobies reactions when she and Willow danced together. They thought it was sweet, romantic, with a hint of bravery thrown in. They didn’t understand what an intensely sexual experience dancing like this was for the two witches. It was foreplay, a long, intense build-up of tension that always led to a night of explosive passion. She shivered with excitement at the prospect. Willow felt the flicker of movement run through Tara’s body and giggled quietly against her neck, then playfully nipped at her earlobe. "Getting excited, baby?"

"Oh God, yes!" Tara whispered back, her voice breathless and husky.

Willow laughed again, the sound muffled in Tara’s hair as she placed a line of kisses up the side of her lover’s neck. "Maybe I should back off a bit? I mean, we can’t have the birthday girl running off this early, can we? Should I go sit down?" She took a tiny step back, just enough to break the contact between their bodies.

"Please stay, I’ll be good…" Tara whimpered as she pulled Willow to her again. Like you’re not as wound up as I am, Rosenberg! She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself a little. As they began to dance again, Tara attempted to distract herself with another of her favourite activities – people-watching. If the Scoobies’ reactions to her and Willow were amusing, the reactions of strangers were fascinating, both in range and intensity. As the two witches slowly circled each other, Tara let her eyes drift over the crowd. She wasn’t disappointed.

A few feet away, another couple were dancing. The woman was looking at them over her boyfriend’s shoulder, but hurriedly looked away as Tara’s gaze fell on her. Over by the wall was a small group of UC Sunnydale students, who Tara recognised as members of one of the fundamentalist Christian groups on campus, regarding the witches with a mixture of disgust and disdain. Continuing her circuit, Tara almost groaned in despair at the gang of lust-fuelled high school boys openly gawping at them, then barely avoided laughing out loud as she spotted Anya, apparently regaling Xander, Giles and Dawn with one of her excruciating ‘Back when I was a vengeance demon’ stories. Behind them, toward the back of the club, almost lost in the shadows under a staircase, Buffy and Faith were kissing. Standing on the staircase was one of the few women Tara knew in the college Lesbian Alliance, Beth McAllister, who looked like the stereotypical ‘butch dyke’ but was actually-

Tara’s brain caught up with her eyes and she did a mental double take. Peering into the shadows, she tried to find… there! No mistake about it, Buffy and Faith were sharing what looked like a heart-meltingly tender kiss. Suddenly, Tara’s view was obscured as a group of teenagers walked across her eye-line, heading for the exit. By the time she had a clear view again, both Slayers had disappeared.

Buffy’s head was spinning. One moment she was almost in tears, despairing at the thought of Faith’s departure, the next Faith’s lips were on hers, and, after a moment of shock, all she could do was feel. Instinctively, she reached out, and her fingertips brushed against Faith’s, then slid softly up the younger girl’s arms.

What am I doing? Buffy pulled away, stepping back and taking a breath, trying to stop herself from shaking. "Faith, what’re-"

"Oh God!" Faith cut her off, panic flashing in her eyes. "I’m sorry, B, I don’t know what happened…" She started backing away.

Buffy took half a step toward Faith, almost reaching out to her as she spoke. "Faith, no, wait, what’s happening?"

"I’m sorry, it was just… everything, and…" Faith replied, backing away. "Just, forget about it, okay, please?" She turned and was swallowed up by the crowd, leaving Buffy standing alone in the shadows.

Faith pushed her way through the throng to the back exit and out into the alley behind the Bronze. Crossing the alley with a few brisk strides, she slumped forward against the wire-mesh fence, gripping the metal as she gulped down deep breaths of the cool night air, not noticing the wire twist in her grasp.

Why the hell did I do that? It’s not like things weren’t screwed up enough before! Faith wiped away tears she was barely aware had been shed and tried to at least look as though everything was normal before heading back to the party. As she slipped back into the nightclub, one thought gnawed at the back of her mind.

Just for a moment, before everything went to hell, she was sure she had felt Buffy kiss her back.

*****

Tara barely managed to get the door of their dorm room closed before Willow was almost crushing her against it, her kiss conveying all of the frustrated desire the redhead had built up over the course of the party.

After she had spotted Buffy and Faith kissing, Tara had tried to keep a subtle eye on them, but she hadn’t had much luck. The Slayers almost seemed to be avoiding each other, always managing to keep someone between them and rarely speaking to each other for the rest of the evening, in spite of the surreptitious they kept shooting each other. Tara didn’t know if there was something wrong between them, something that complicated what looked to her like a potentially great partnership, but she didn’t have to think back that far to remember how secretive she and Willow had been in the beginning. Even so, she couldn’t help trying to indulge her curiosity, but the rest of her friends (and especially Willow) had succeeded in distracting her enough that wasn’t able to concentrate on the Slayers. Now, as Willow began pulling her skirt up around her hips, she was having a hard time concentrating on anything.

Hours later, the witches lay entwined together in their bed, hovering on the edge of sleep as their sweat-streaked bodies cooled. Willow rolled over slightly, snuggling closer against Tara, and winced.

"Ow." Tara murmured, opening her eyes. "Unh. You got me all sticky."

"I didn’t hear you complaining." Willow replied, blushing as she gingerly peeled herself free from the gooey spots covering Tara’s body.

Tara’s face flushed at the memory. "Like I could ever say no to you when you’re doing that to me." Glancing down at the discoloured patches on her skin, she shook her head. "We’ve got to stop eating ice-cream in bed."

Laughing softly, Willow lay back down as close to her lover as she could without actually touching her. "Yeah, yeah, you say that every time…"

"I know." Tara sighed, then flipped the sheets back and sat up. "Come on, let’s go clean up."

"Tired." Willow protested sleepily, trying to pull the covers back over her.

"Me too, sweetie, but think about how icky we’ll feel in the morning. Besides," Tara leaned over to whisper huskily in her girlfriend’s ear, "don’t you want to get me all soapy?"

"Oh, Goddess, help me!" Willow moaned as she rolled out of bed and grabbed a towel.

After a long, hot and highly pleasurable shower, the witches wrapped themselves in bathrobes and sat on their bed as Willow blow-dried Tara’s hair. Glancing at the clock on the night stand, Willow remarked "It’s lucky neither of us has an early class tomorrow, we’re both going to be like zombies in the morning."

Tara smiled, looking back over her shoulder. "I don’t care, I wouldn’t have missed tonight for anything."

"Happy birthday, baby." Willow whispered as she leaned forward to capture Tara’s lips in a brief, loving kiss. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Tara sat silently for a moment as Willow started up the dryer again, then she asked, "Willow, if I tell you something, will you promise me you won’t say anything about it to anyone?"

Willow hurriedly put down the dryer and scooted around so that she could look at Tara face to face. "What is it? Tara, is something wrong? Are you okay?"

"I’m fine, sweetie, really I am." Tara reassured her. "I just want to make sure you won’t tell anyone about this."

"Okay, I promise, what’s the big secret?" Willow asked, scenting gossip.

"It’s about Buffy and Faith. I-I think there’s something going on between them."

Willow looked confused. "Going on? I don’t… no! You don’t mean...?"

Tara nodded. "I saw them kissing at the Bronze earlier."

"No, no, no…" Willow backed away, horrified. "Tara, this isn’t funny."

"Willow, what’s wrong?"

"I can’t believe this! She’s doing it again!"

"Who’s doing what?" Tara asked, lost. "Sweetie, you’re not making any sense."

"Faith! It’s just like last time! She turns up, helps us for a while, then she starts sinking her hooks into people and before you know it, they’re not your people any more!"

"Oh, sweetie, I’m sure that’s not what she’s doing."

"You don’t know her!" Willow cried out, tears welling up in her eyes. "Why won’t you believe me?"

"I do believe you, Willow. I know how much she hurt you, but she’s changed."

"No she hasn’t! Don’t you see it?" Willow scrambled off the bed, ashen-faced. "She’s even taking you away from me!"

"Willow!" Tara felt a flicker of anger. "How can you say that? No-one could take me away from you!"

"Then why are you always on her side?"

"It’s not about taking sides, Willow, I just think she’s earned another chance."

"Another chance to do what? Cut my throat?" Willow turned away, bracing herself against a table covered with jumbled up witchcraft supplies. Tears began to burn their way down her cheeks.

Tara shook her head in frustration. "Look, Willow, I know you have some issues with Faith, but if this is what Buffy wants-"

"It's not! Not this, it can't be!" Willow cut her off, wiping her eyes free from the tears. As her vision cleared, she spotted a sprig of Lethe’s Bramble lying half-buried under toppled stack of books. Without thinking, she reached out and grabbed it.

"Forget."

*****

Dawn screamed.

Faith dropped her toothbrush with a curse and burst out of the bathroom, flying down the stairs with a clatter of boots. She barely kept her balance as she skidded on the wooden floor of the hallway, then dashed into the kitchen, almost colliding with Dawn as the teenager emerged from the basement, soaked to the skin. Faith took a step back from the growing puddle at Dawn’s feet. Now that she wasn’t running, she could hear the sound of gushing water. "What the hell happened?"

Dawn’s only reply was to growl "Buffy!" and storm out of the kitchen, leaving a trail of water behind her. Faith watched her go, a little taken aback by the display of anger, then hurried down the basement steps. Her jaw dropped.

"Uh, B…" Buffy was standing on a box, a wrench dangling limply from one hand. Above her was a water pipe, apparently the only one that wasn’t currently pouring water into the basement. "Buffy? Where’s the cut-off valve?"

"I don’t know." Buffy replied without turning around.

"Okay…" Faith silently watched the slowly rising water level for a second. "Well, you’re not going to find it standing there. Come on, let’s go look before we have to buy life jackets."

After Xander and his buddy Tito the plumber had left, Buffy sat at the kitchen counter reviewing the estimate for the re-pipe job the house apparently needed. God, how much stuff like this did Mom deal with without me noticing? How self-absorbed was I?

Faith sat down opposite her, sipping a mug of coffee. "How bad is it?"

Buffy showed her.

"Ouch! At least we can afford it."

"I can afford it." Buffy said sharply.

"What do you mean?"

"I’m paying this myself. You’re leaving, remember?"

"Well yeah, but it’s it not like I’m shipping out tomorrow!" Faith replied, pushing herself away from the counter. "Or is that what you want? Do you want me to go now?"

"No, that’s not what I meant…" Buffy said, fighting down the flush of anger and sadness she felt at the thought of Faith leaving her. "Look, it’s my house, it’s my responsibility."

"And as long as I’m living here, I’ll pay my share." Faith sat down again, trying to control her own emotions. "I told you I’ll stay in Sunnydale until we kill Lucas, and we don’t know how long that’ll take, so unless you kick me out of the house, I’m going to help you keep the place going, okay?"

Buffy nodded sadly. "When are you going to tell the others you’re going?"

"I’ll talk to Giles once Lucas is dust, get him to talk to the Council about a new assignment. The rest… I think I’ll just go, be easier for everyone."

The phone rang. Faith picked up. "Hello? Oh, hi Giles… You have? Okay, we’ll see you later." She hung up. "Giles got the Council’s report on Lucas this morning. He wants us all to meet up at the magic shop after it closes tonight."

"Okay."

*****

An awkward silence hung over the Magic Box that evening as the group gathered. Willow kept sneaking brief looks at the two Slayers, trying to detect any sign that there was something happening between them, but saw nothing. Buffy and Faith hadn’t spoken to each other since they had arrived and taken seats on opposite sides of the table, their body language defensive and uncomfortable.

"The Council haven’t been able to find any information on Lucas before October 1999." Giles said quietly, not surprised by the looks of shock and disbelief his statement provoked.

"What do you mean, they can’t find anything?" Xander's outburst drew a mocking laugh from the vampire perched halfway up the balcony steps.

"You think the tea-and-tweed brigade keep a file on every vampire in the world?" Spike sneered. "They’ve got enough trouble trying to keep tabs on the ones that actually count for something."

"I guess they don’t know much about you, then!" Xander snapped back. "Why is he even here?"

Spike let out a low growl, inaudible to anyone else in the room. One of these days, whelp, I’m going to remind you just who you’re dealing with…

"He’s here because he might know something useful." Buffy replied, her tone weary. "So what do we know, Giles?"

The Watcher gave her a grateful nod as he sat down at the research table and opened a slim file. "All we really have is that Lucas Miller arrived in Chicago some time before October 1999, and began assembling a cadre of vampires. They maintained a very low profile, and disappeared altogether earlier this year, presumably when they came to Sunnydale. There’s nothing at all about Lucas’ origins or what he was doing before what Faith’s told us."

Faith couldn’t help noticing how everyone avoided looking at her. "What about his vamps?"

"Mostly, they’re the usual, unremarkable vampires. Perhaps possessed of a little more self-control that the norm, or better disciplined by their leader. The only one of note is this fellow." Giles pulled a photograph out of the file and slid it to the centre of the table.

Faith picked it up, her eyes widening in surprise. "B, check this out!" She passed the photograph across. As Buffy took it, Willow saw their fingertips touch, and Faith jerked her hand away. The others, intent on Buffy’s reaction to the picture, didn’t notice.

"That’s him!" Buffy exclaimed as she saw the picture. "Giles, we’ve seen this guy, we fought him the night of Tara’s party."

"You dusted him?" Willow asked, hopefully.

"No, he got away." Buffy answered, a mixture of annoyance and shame colouring her voice. "He held us off, then as soon as he saw an opening, he made a break for it. He’s good, Giles."

Anya raised her hand. "Who is he?"

"Sean Curran." Giles replied. "He’s some sort of vampire warrior-"

Spike interrupted. "Bloody mercenary is what he is."

Giles looked around at the vampire. "You know him?"

"Know of him." Spike corrected, with a pointed glare at Xander. "Met him once in Italy, but we didn’t exactly make small-talk. He fights for any demon that can’t or won’t do it themselves, as long as they can afford him. Used to be some kind of army type, I think."

"Yes, he joined the U.S. Army during World War Two as a paratrooper. He disappeared, presumably died, while on leave from his unit in Germany in 1947. The Council first took note of him in the early 1950’s."

"Has he ever fought a Slayer?" Buffy asked.

Giles sighed. "Possibly. He was in Stockholm in 1984 when the then-Slayer was killed, but I can’t say whether he was involved."

"What happened?"

"Again, we don’t know. She went out on a routine patrol and never came back." Giles said, masking his fear of the same fate befalling one of his Slayers. "Her body was never found; the Council could only be sure she was dead because another Slayer was called."

"So now what?" Buffy asked. "We've got one vamp without a past and another one who's a hired gun... fang... whatever. Why did Lucas come back here? Is he just trying to play King of the Hellmouth?"

Willow pulled her laptop out of her bag. "This is probably a coincidence, but I might have something here..." She flipped the screen up and opened a file, before turning the computer around so the others could see the screen. "Faith, is this him?" she asked, her voice totally neutral.

Faith's jaw dropped as she saw the picture on the screen. "Oh my God, you found him!"

"Faith, are you sure?" Giles was stunned.

"Yeah, I mean the hairstyle's different, but everything else... that's him I swear! Damn, Red, what did you do?"

"I Googled him." Willow looked around at a sea of blank faces. "Google? Internet search engine? I got bored yesterday, so I typed in 'Lucas Miller', just for the hell of it. I got a few hundred hits, but this one kinda stood out; it's from the on-line archive for the Sunnydale Press."

"He was in the paper?" Buffy wondered in disbelief. "He was alive, here?"

"Sorta. It's his obituary." Willow span the laptop around to face her again and read from the article. 'We are saddened to report the death of Sunnydale's first-born, Lucas Joshua Miller, on November 16th, 1927, at the age of 28. Mr Miller was apparently the latest victim of the wild dogs that have recently plagued our community."

"Sunnydale's first-born." Buffy whispered.

"He was born here, he died here... Giles, do you think he's been here the whole time?" Faith asked, not quite believing the idea herself.

"It's possible, but it's very rare for a vampire to stay in one town for so long, especially one the size of Sunnydale."

"Welcome to small-town America, Giles." Xander remarked. "It's the only home he's ever known. I think he wants it back."

"And to do that," Buffy said, "he has to get rid of us."

*****

The following Monday, Willow caught up with Buffy in the campus refectory. Both Slayers had left to patrol immediately after the meeting at the Magic Box, and Willow was desperate to talk to her best friend face to face, to try to figure out exactly what was happening. They secured a table in a quiet corner and chatted for a while, talking about classes, Xander and Anya’s growing preoccupation with wedding plans, Dawn’s high school experiences.

The Gift, Take Two by Dafmeister Rating: R

The Gift, Take Two
by Dafmeister
Rating: R