Bloodletting

Saving Faith

The sound of distant sirens rang through the murky air. In the few moments Amy had been outside, night had turned to day. The apartment building went up like a Roman candle. Flames rolled out of the shattered windows, licking at soot stained stucco walls.

Her head throbbed. She put her fingertips to her temples and pressed. The pain dulled, but only for a moment. Faith’s gone. She was holding my hand. My shoulder jerked. It hurt. And then she was gone. Staring blankly at the ashy ground, she rubbed her aching right palm.

All I know is which way. That’s it. I know which way she pulled. I need to go.

The others are nowhere to be found. Her burning eyes darted over the crowd. Giles and Jonathan aren’t here. Did they even get out? Should I go back in to look?

She didn’t have to see to know the truth. No, that’d be insane. The heat from the burning building was so intense that the crowd was migrating toward the street. Amy let them carry her. Tears streamed down her cheeks. She was alone.

This can’t be happening. I can’t just let it. Not and do nothing. There has to be something. Is there any wood? I could…

Oh, c'mon. I can’t just stand around.

As Amy turned to run, knowing it’d probably be her final act, the roar of an engine cut through the air. It was loud. Louder than the panicked people. Louder than the crackle of the fire. Amy faced the sound not sure what she’d find.

Red.

Her brain hung, useless.

Red car.

Squealing tires joined the racket. Then a name filtered through the muck.

Buffy.

The little blonde vampire spotted Amy in the crowd and yelled, “Where?”

Stunned, Amy pointed the only way she knew. She blinked and Buffy was gone. Did I just imagine her?

No. The car’s still there.

Was it even stopped when she got out?

I don’t know. It’s still running and…

Her interest was fixed on the passenger side of the Trans Am. There’s someone else still in the car. Is that Willow?

Amy inched up to the passenger door. What she saw didn’t help one bit. Though Willow didn’t turn, it was plain that her cheek was wet. She’s been crying. But—

The door swung open and Amy stepped back. Having gained the attention of an obviously upset Willow, she just kept backing away. But…

Oh god!

No!

As a car alarm blared somewhere off to Amy’s right, Willow said, “Take my hand.”

I’m gonna die!

Amy tried to turn and run, but her body wouldn’t listen. She stared at Willow. It was the weirdest thing. Though she’d matured a little, this was the same person Amy remembered from school.

Why am I freaking out?

Extending her hand, Willow spoke very slowly and plainly this time. “Amy, take my hand.”

It almost registered.

The message finally hit home when Willow raised her hand a little more. It scared the hell out of her, but Amy did as instructed. Willow’s hand was cold, dry and smooth. It was plain that there was nothing human about her. The reason for the fear came clear. Willow hasn’t looked this way in years. You’d think that’d be good. It’s really not. She’s become a real monster

What the hell am I doing?

“I know that you know exactly where they went. Take me to them,” Willow demanded.

Amy was barely able to function, but she turned right and walked down the sidewalk. She pushed past the other tenants and onlookers. When she reached the cross street, she made a right, walking down its center.

Buffy was just up ahead between two parked cars. They were both damaged and their alarms were going off, creating sort of a weird harmony. The larger car had a deeper horn while the smaller one was almost shrill. Amy’s head pounded a rhythm with the pulsing horns.

There were two other vampires that Amy didn’t recognize and Faith. Buffy was fighting a Native American woman. Although the strange woman was almost freakishly slender, it was scary how tall she was. She must have about eighteen inches on Buffy. They moved so fast it was hard to tell, but it seemed like Buffy was hurt. She was favoring her right side.

Wow! Faith’s right. That’s just insane.

The second vampire looked more like a little girl. She was extremely petite, smaller than Buffy which was just too weird. The little vamp had Faith in a choke hold. She tried to struggle, but fighting only made the girl tighten her grip.

Willow stopped, causing Amy to jerk to a halt.

Amy spun around and snapped, “What the hell do you think you’re doing? We have to help them!”

Willow was stony faced. Her gaze was almost painful. Amy wanted to shy away, but Willow’s grip was like a vice. Amy couldn’t free herself. All she could do was listen.

“Can you summon water from the things around you?” Willow asked.

Amy struggled with the words, trying to make sense of them. Uncertain how to answer, she finally just shook her head. It was safer to say she couldn’t.

“This may feel funny, but just relax and focus on the little one,” Willow said.

Amy gaped at the other witch. What the—?

Why?

When Willow prodded, “Okay?” Amy managed a nod. She turned around and faced the tiny dark-haired vampire. She was hurting Faith. Amy focused her resentment, wishing that the little bitch would just drop dead.

It felt like ages went by, but the funny feeling Willow mentioned never came. Amy couldn’t resist watching the fight. It wasn’t hard to wish bad things on bad people. She split her attention and tried to make sense of the blur.

Amy wanted to think that it was kind of amazing. Tiny little Buffy was holding her own against this monster. Underestimating Buffy’s something that usually only happens once.

They weaved between the cars, taking swipes at each other. Both late model sedans were a mass of dents and broken glass. Buffy was thrown onto the hood of the first car. It was one of the few things about the fight that was actually clear. She rolled away just in time. The economy-sized Pocahontas missed, striking the hood with the scythe.

The whole thing looked to Amy like a demolition contest. I wonder if the owner of the blue car will be able to claim that huge gash in the hood as part of the fire damage.

Whatever.

What the hell is Willow doing? Why aren’t we helping? There’s fire right behind them.

But I guess hurling fireballs might be bad if Buffy’s on our side. It’d be impossible to guarantee her safety.

Amy started to turn. She wanted to ask Willow exactly what she had in mind. Then she saw it. The fight that had been impossible to watch was slowing down, or the important half of it.

The large vamp was moving at a much more human pace. Buffy kicked her in the gut and water sprayed the air. It barely fazed Little Miss Sitting Bull. She countered and Buffy parried a sloppy blow from the scythe with her right forearm.

The little one was growing weaker too. Faith jabbed with her right elbow. The blow connected.

Amy smiled when the little vampire winced.

No idea what she’s doing, but whatever it is, it’s working.

’Kay, so…someone care to clue me in?

The gorilla she was fighting took another potshot with the scythe. Buffy raised her forearm, blocking the blow. Droplets of warm liquid splashed her hand.

Since when do vamp’s sweat?

Her opponent stalled between swipes just long enough for Buffy to catch a glimpse of her angular face. It was coated in beads of moisture. Her black hair stuck to it in clumps.

I may be crazy, but I think she’s getting slower. Good thing too. Cruella’s got, like, twelve feet of reach on me.

Buffy cast a quick glance over her shoulder. She was within ten feet of the blazing building. Her opponent was herding her.

Fuck it!

The back of Buffy’s jacket was getting uncomfortably hot. Annoyed, she rushed the larger vamp. Pain shot through her side. She ignored it and dove for the car, rolling across its hood. Bitch keeps pounding on the same side. She landed in the street and sprinted straight at the smaller vamp. I can’t do much with Morticia, but I think I can take little Wednesday before she bolts, free up Faith and gain some ground.

The smaller vamp tried to sidestep, but with Faith kicking and thrashing it didn’t go well. Buffy seized the little Wednesday’s upper arm and spun her. Staggering, she barely kept hold of Faith. And doing so cost her her footing. She toppled over backwards. With any luck, when Morticia circles in behind me, maybe she’ll be close. Not likely, but I can hope.

As the sirens closed in, joining the racket of the car alarms, Buffy took the fall with them. She landed on her knees. She’s quick, but not nearly so scary. It’s hard to be scared of a doe-eyed, little Italian girl. She’s smaller than me.

The pair had landed just to her right. Buffy reached and snatched the forearm the girl had over Faith’s throat.

Faith took the opening, driving the back of her head into the little vamp’s face. There was a sickening crunch and the scent blood filled the air. As Buffy grabbed Faith by the shirt and threw her, she felt her face shift. The slayer went tumbling across the street.

Tears welled up in the tiny vamp’s eyes. Her face was dripping with sweat and coated in blood from her smashed nose. I almost feel bad. Almost, but not quite.

After blocking a weak swing, Buffy seized her throat and struck. The punch impacted the small vamp’s cheek. As her head twisted under the blow, the alarms and sirens died. It was like someone had just hit the off switch. The only sounds remaining were the crackling fire and human noises, shouting and anxious chatter.

The effect was sobering. This is gonna end badly if I don’t get off the ground.

As Buffy sprang to her feet, the point of a boot connected with her ribs. She wheezed and went flailing across the tarmac. Her head and shoulder struck the ground. She bounced. Colliding with a car, she came to an abrupt halt. Blood dribbled from the corner of her mouth. She mopped it away and groaned.

Fuck!

Big and ugly was plodding across the street, headed right at her. Bitch just doesn’t know when to quit.

I may have to teach her. Buffy didn’t move. Better to play wounded. Play? Hell! I am wounded, but not all that bad. At least I don’t think…

Just a little closer. C’mon, I know you got it in ya…

Buffy peer blearily up at the gangly vamp. She didn’t even try to focus. It would’ve killed the act. And that’s just no fun.

Predictably, Lorraine Running Water reached down like a total moron. I’m glad this is just all in my head ’cause no one would get that. Having to explain ruins it. Simultaneously, Buffy kicked. Her assailant’s knee folded backward. Go figure, my dad loved Westerns. Buffy rolled out of the way as the big vamp fell against the car. Whatever. It fits.

There just aren’t enough Native American pop culture icons. It’s a total shame.

As Buffy sprang to her feet, pain shot through her side. She damned near hit the ground again. She exhaled, emptying her lungs. Good thing I don’t need to breathe. Could be a major issue…

It took a sec for the trembling to stop. When she could move, she clutched her ribs and approached the other vamp. Talking was pretty pointless, not that she could, but a speech came to mind. Look, Lorraine, I think you and me…we’ve just about beaten the snot out of each other. How ’bout you give me the scythe and we can both go home?

Favoring her good leg, her adversary spun around, using all of her weight to drive the scythe. Buffy threw her arm out. She blocked the blow, only just barely. It hurt like son of a bitch.

So, I’ll take that as a ‘no.’

Buffy was preparing to lunge while her opponent poised to counter. None of that happened.

A flash of light erupted behind Buffy. Instinct took over. She threw herself head first across the hood of the car. Her hands touched ground first. Pushing off, she flipped and landed with her back to the action.

Enough stuff hurt that it took her a sec to swing around. It was over by then. The car hood she’d just tumbled across was littered with burning embers. But then there were fiery pieces of rubble pretty much everywhere. Did the building explode?

Buffy scanned the street. The first thing that caught her eye was a large scorch mark on the asphalt. It was pretty close to where she’d put the small vamp down. Chances are Tiny’s blowing in the wind. Maybe the other one got toasted too. But the scythe…

Buffy looked toward the frontage street. Standing with their hands joined were Willow, Faith and Amy. They were backlit by her car. Buffy couldn’t see their faces, but she didn’t need to. Behind them, on the main street, the lights of emergency vehicles flashed under a halo of mist. The firemen were doing their job.

It’s gotta be here somewhere.

Turning, Buffy caught sight of her prey. The scythe dangled at the vamp’s side, glinting as she ran. Funny, but part of me wants her to get away. I can’t let her do it. Not with that. But—

Sticking to the grass strip between the fence and the row of parked cars, Buffy took off in pursuit. She’s the only one so far with half a clue or any style.

The fleeing vamp had almost reached the next block. She was limping badly, but surprisingly spry. I think I’d be hauling ass too if it started raining fire. Actually, I did haul ass. That’s just a little too apocalypsey for my taste. Not to mention just plain bad for the complexion.

Buffy saw movement out of the corner of her eye and turned. A hunk of flaming rubble broke away from the building. She ducked behind a car. The fireball veered off and streaked down the center of alley, growing denser as it went. It all but eclipsed the lanky vamp. Striking her center mass, it exploded.

What a waste.

Fragments of flaming debris rained over the alley. Soot clouded the air. When it cleared enough to see, there was nothing left of the wicked Queen or her iron shoes.

Who’s the fairest of them all now?

Uh…

Buffy clutched her side and sprinted down the street. The pain sucked. Each step felt like an assault.

It didn’t matter. She needed to know. The scythe was in that nightmare.

But it couldn’t have been destroyed. Could it? It can’t just be gone.

That might’ve been one of the coolest things I’ve ever seen.

The broad grin on Faith’s face faded. Reality killed it. But I still don’t get why I’m standing here holding hands with psycho witch like we’re best buds.

The headlamps went out and the car shut off as Buffy ran into the distance. She was obviously hurt and not moving well. The car door shut. Jonathan was behind them. Not that it mattered.

Faith tried to free her hand. When she took a step forward, Willow said, “I’m gonna give you a choice. You can either stand here and wait…” Faith turned on the black-eyed witch “…or you can lie there unconscious.” Though Faith resisted, Willow raised both of their hands to point at the ground just in front of her. “It makes no difference to me which one you choose.”

Outraged, Faith cast a glance at Amy. She had this look on her face. It wasn’t a promising look. She agrees with that bitch!

“I can’t believe this shit!” Faith spat.

As she turned away, shaking her head in disbelief, Amy countered, “Believe it. Willow’s right. We need to stay put.”

Jesus! Not you too!

So what is it? You guys do a couple of magic tricks together and suddenly you’re best pals?

Great! Now I get to stand around with my thumb up my ass.

Just fuckin’ great!

Feeling like a complete waste of flesh, Faith gritted her teeth to keep her trap shut and stared down the block. Buffy was onto something. She went left, disappearing around the corner. Faith sighed. They’re right. If there are more of those things, what am I gonna do? Get my ass handed to me again. That’s about all I’m good for. Damseling. She sneered with disgust. Now there’s something I never thought—

“Blasted duffer,” Giles grumbled. Faith turned to see him rounding the back of the car ranting under his breath. “Give these ruddy colonials an ounce of authority and they behave like snot-nosed brats.”

Must be catching.

“What’s up, Giles?” Faith asked with a grin.

Giles stopped next to Jonathan by the fender of the car. “What?” he mumbled. Giles was just too ticked to function. It was kinda funny. Faith wanted to snicker at the general level of bullshit, but she kept her cool.

“Oh, right,” Giles stammered. He tugged at his coat as if to shake off the irritation before he explained, “The authorities retained me for questioning. They believed I might have something to do with this fiasco. The nerve. Like I would consider placing all of these innocent people in danger. Not to mention destroying my own home.” He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“But you did have something to do with it,” Faith replied frankly.

Giles looked outraged. He returned his glasses and exclaimed, “How dare you suggest such a thing?”

Willow let go. Thankfully, she wasn’t the least bit concerned with their argument. She was the only one. Everyone else was all too interested. Where they were standing was quickly becoming a river from the fire hoses. Willow moved out of the growing puddle to the rise in the center of the street without taking her eyes off the spot where Buffy had disappeared.

Faith rubbed her hand. She was tempted to join Willow in keeping lookout. It’d sure beat this. Instead, Faith replied, “Well, it might not be the smartest thing to point out. You were helping me after all. But the way I see it, the fire was caused by someone tossing Molotov cocktails through your window, so…” She waited, half-expecting another outburst.

“No,” Giles mumbled. His expression became thoughtful. “Of course, you’re correct. It was merely the approach. The officer was somewhat less than amiable.”

Faith glanced over her shoulder at Willow as she replied, “Yeah, sounds like the cops.”

It’s been long enough. I vote we go check it out. I’m not really into helping B. But she helped me, so…

It comes around.

Giles eyed Willow too before he remarked, “Right, so…we should carry on. Perhaps find some lodging?”

Faith replied, “I think they’re waiting on B.” Folding her arms, she shot a look at the two witches. “I’m done waiting. Been done. I vote we go find her.”

Willow returned the glance. Her eyes were back to normal. She said, “Give it another minute.” Her tone was neutral. The reply came off more like a suggestion.

It actually set Faith a little more at ease. Careful not to dent it, she half-leaned and half-sat on the rubber nose of the Trans Am. Casually crossing ankles, she looked from one member of their ragged little band to the next. What she saw was tired and grubby. It wasn’t that late but the fire and fight had really left a mark.

Jonathan mustered his courage and walked over to Willow, holding out the car keys. She turned to face him and actually smiled. It wasn’t one of those ‘you’d be tasty on toast’ sort of smiles either. “Keep them for now. I can’t drive a manual,” she said with a giggle.

Jonathan was grinning when he turned away. After pocketing the keys, he shrunk back to Giles’ side.

Okay, so…has everyone lost their goddamned minds? Even me? I mean yeah, it all seems good, but these dopes act like they’ve never seen a rope before. Faith glanced at her Watcher. He was staring at the smoldering rubble. She could pretty much guess what was going through his head. Giles has. He has to have. He’s older than dirt.

She was kind of amazed he wasn’t asking his usual round of twenty-thousand questions. I guess it’s pretty obvious what happened. The fires at the end of the block had died out, but not before he showed up. All he really needs to know is, big fight, everyone’s safe. Well, everyone except B. But should I really be worried about her?

Eh, hell…I dunno, we’ve been fighting so damned long. If this is the real deal, they’re both gonna have to show me.

Turning her attention to Giles, Willow asked, “Giles, where’s your car?”

He replied, “Just ahead on the left.”

“You have your keys?” she asked. When Giles nodded, she added, “I’d like to keep Faith with me if you don’t mind.” He gave another nod. “Follow us. I think I can find her. Faith’s right we should get going.”

Huh. She asked. He agreed. That was almost civil. Funny how no one asked me. Oh well…

Doing something beats the hell out of nothing any day. I’ll take it.

I’m so screwed.

Jonathan folded the seat forward to allow Faith and Amy to climb in. Once they were situated, he returned the seat, pulled the keys from his pocket and got in.

Grimly, he fastened his seatbelt. It was like facing a firing squad. Right next to him sat heaps of trouble and in his hand, the key to his doom. Swallowing, he slid the key into the ignition, pushed in the clutch and started the doom machine. The only manual transmission car I’ve ever driven is my mom’s Honda. And this really isn’t that.

Okay, so…breathe. Now give it a little gas and slip the clutch out.

All the car did was rumble. It was a cool sounding rumble, but just a rumble.

Shit!

Put it in gear and try again idiot.

When Jonathan did, the car lurched against the parking brake, moved about a foot and stalled. It amounted to a great, roaring, jerky nothing.

He glanced at his less than friendly passenger. Willow’s face was twisted with what could only be pain. I’m finished. She’s gonna turn me into a tadpole. Then she’ll squish me ’cause I might grow into a frog.

Willow took a deep breath. It was something he’d never seen a vampire do. As he wondered why, she steadied herself and said, “Please, calm down. I’m not gonna bite. You moved the car before. I heard you do it. You were really good. Just do that again.”

It left Jonathan bewildered when ‘less than friendly’ amounted to kinder than the people he called ‘friends.’ Faith had snickered under her breath when he stalled the car, adding insult to injury. While Willow sounded like she actually had confidence in him. The heat in his face died down, replaced by a warm grin. She’s being so nice.

Why?

Jonathan didn’t give himself time to consider. Giles was already in his car. It sat idling, waiting on them. Pushing in the clutch, Jonathan started the engine and tried again. It wasn’t perfect, but it went better this time. The difference between this thing and his mom’s Honda was like the ancient IBM Selectric Giles had compared to his modern laptop keyboard. Everything about the car was so stiff and mechanical it was almost a workout to drive.

As they motored past Giles, Willow said, “See, I knew you could do it. Now, make a left. Take it really slow. Okay?”

Jonathan nodded. His attention was split so many ways it was little more than an aloof gesture. He turned the corner as he listened to the girls whisper in the backseat. It was pretty obvious how Faith felt. That was never really a mystery. She just kinda put it out there. But he was really curious what Amy thought. All he got were bits and pieces of the conversation. Though, he distinctly heard the word ‘gold.’

“That’s not true. Not in the strictest sense,” Willow interjected sort of out of the blue.

Faith and Amy stopped talking.

Jonathan snickered.

Amy mumbled, “You weren’t supposed to hear that.”

“I’m a vampire,” Willow replied. It was a matter-of-fact reminder not a threat. Something unseen caught her interest and she said, “Go right,” pointing at the upcoming intersection. Once the turn was made, she continued, “A really skillful witch can mask her aura. Look at mine now.”

“Huh. It’s all blue,” Amy informed the car. Like that meant something.

Dammit! I know these. I could just never see them, so…

Faith said, “Pointing out you can lie to us isn’t exactly smart, Red.” Typical Faith, all the tact of an eight pound sledge and half the finesse.

Looking over her shoulder at Faith, Willow replied “No, but it’s honest.” When Faith failed to find a snarky comeback, Willow faced forward. A few moments later something caught her attention. Turning to look out the passenger window, she said, “Stop.”

As he stopped the car, Jonathan caught sight of Buffy. She emerged from between two houses. Her posture was stooped. She straightened up as she approached the car. He put the parking brake on and unbuckled his seatbelt.

Willow rolled down her window as he opened his door. Leaning into the car, Buffy said, “If it’s cool, I think I’m gonna ride with Giles.” Jonathan froze. He couldn’t believe his ears. It must’ve shown because Buffy offered, “Looks like you’ve got this under control.”

After grappling with what she said for an instant or two, Jonathan arrived at the only reasonable explanation. Wow! She must really be hurt. That’s all it could be. She doesn’t sound good, but—

Turning his head to look in the driver’s side mirror, Jonathan very nearly laughed. Oh, he’s gonna be thrilled. I wish I could eavesdrop. That’d just be too funny. The image of a red-faced, puffy-cheeked Giles with steam rolling out of his ears never failed to amuse.

Jonathan returned his interest to their two uneasy allies. He couldn’t see Willow’s face, but it was plain that she was worried.

“I’ll be fine. Just give me a few hours,” Buffy replied to the unasked question. Jonathan wouldn’t have believed it he hadn’t heard it himself. Her tone was actually consoling. He’d heard her be a lot of things over the years, but reassuring wasn’t on that list. Terrifying was pretty typical. That did more than just about anything could’ve to set him at ease. I was right.

“What happened?” Willow asked.

Buffy hung her head, peering at her hands as she said, “There were two more. They nabbed the scythe. I never had a chance.”

Oh jeez…

I didn’t even think of that. Faith had the scythe. I wondered what Buffy was up to. That’s really bad, right?

Taking Buffy’s hand, Willow whispered, “It’s okay. We’ll deal.”

The car went silent. Jonathan cast a sidelong glance at the passenger side, averting his eyes when he realized the two women were kissing. Oh God! Now what?

Uh…

Torn between trying to shrink into the background and wanting to watch, he stared at the center of the steering wheel. He had no idea why Buffy had chosen this car, but the symbolism was pretty much perfect. I just wish they didn’t make me so nervous.

Curiosity won out, but he didn’t dare stare. Instead, he played with the rearview. I wonder if they’re really in love. Wouldn’t that be weird?

For these two, more like a miracle.

When he saw the empty seat, it struck him exactly how foolish he was being.

They’re vampires you dufus.

Jonathan quickly repositioned the mirror and dropped his hand in his lap as Buffy spoke. “We’re headed to the Hampton, just off the interstate, ’kay?”

He turned to reply. Both vamps were grinning at him. It was all he could do to nod.

Buffy approached the car. When she tapped on the glass, Giles reached over and opened the door. “Mind if I catch a ride with you?” she asked.

Mildly taken aback, Giles replied, “No, not at all,” mostly because it was the courteous thing to say. He found the notion of spending time with her intriguing, mind numbing and horrifying, all in equal measures. I doubt it will be long. That’s perhaps the only saving grace to this little arrangement. We stand little chance of being much more than passing allies.

Once she was seated with her safety belt secured, he resumed pursuit of the red Trans Am. At least with Jonathan driving, this was possible.

Mucking with the levers, Buffy found the correct one to recline her seat. Giles wasn’t thrilled, but he held his piece.

They travelled together in silence for a time. It seemed the others were fairing well. He watched Amy gesture animatedly in the backseat of the lead car.

Jonathan appeared to have a destination in mind. They’d left the residential neighborhoods and were preceding toward the city limits. Giles presumed from her demeanor that Buffy had been injured. Nonetheless he was interested to know what she had planned. Careful to keep his tone moderate, he asked, “Would you mind my asking where we’re going?”

She turned her head to face him and said, “The Hampton.” The ruse was past. Pain was apparent in her voice. She had indeed been badly injured.

“Ah, very good,” he replied.

“Hold up before you get carried away,” Buffy said. Pausing, she groaned and flattened her body against the seat. After settling in, she offered, “I have a room there. That’s why I’m going. It’s an option, but you need to understand.”

“What could there possibly be to understand? We are in need of lodging and we’re going to a hotel. The matter seems fairly straightforward to me,” he responded, doing everything within his power to wring the amusement from his tone. I certainly don’t want it to seem that I am making light of her condition. It’s quite obvious that she was wounded assisting us. I should ask, but I truly don’t believe there’s anything we could do for her. She should heal rather quickly of her own accord.

“Not so much,” Buffy muttered. Giles was wondering exactly what sort of answer that might have been when she picked up her thought. “You might’ve noticed that I don’t do failure well. I’ll pretty much do whatever it takes to get the job done.” Her chest gurgled as she took another feeble breath in order to continue.

Indeed. I may’ve noticed that. In past she was willing to sacrifice anything in order to accomplish her objective. It’s virtually impossible to face such a foe.

“Job one right now is keeping Faith alive,” she stated plainly.

“Why?” Giles interjected. “That seems a ludicrous goal for you.” Glancing at his passenger, he cursed himself for being so blunt. Her expression had darkened. Good show! To say that lacked diplomacy is a woeful understatement. Actually, that was quite like something Faith might say. I’m not sure what got into me.

Though it was still weak, Buffy’s tone held an edge. “I don’t know if you’ve got this figured or not. You’d have to be pretty dense not to. I never took you for dense, Rupert. But I’ve been proven wrong before.”

Giles had plenty of opportunity to barge in. He could’ve easily spoken in his own defense. Instead, he allowed her the breath and the barb, feeling he’d quite earned it.

“I could’ve eliminated your pathetic little band of misfits years ago,” she said. It was a matter-of-fact statement that Giles very much wanted to argue. He couldn’t. In point of fact, she has passed up opportunities to end each of our lives. I often wondered what advantage she might’ve seen in allowing us to live. It’s certainly not typical of her kind.

As they left town, the red car picked up speed. Giles shifted down and pressed the accelerator in an effort to keep pace. “Yes, I’ve been curious about that for a great many years,” he remarked, shifting up to the next gear. The lead car had slowed, allowing them to keep pace.

“It’s pretty simple. The devil you know,” she replied. Massaging her ribs, she winced. “But that’s not what this is about. We don’t have long so here’s the bottom line, Giles. If you stay at some hotel, anyone can walk in your door at anytime. Each night’s a—” She fell victim to a coughing fit.

The sound alarmed him. Giles cast a concerned glance at his passenger. She found purchase, suppressing the cough and mopped a trickle of blood from her chin. We’re she human, she wouldn’t last the night without medical attention.

Wincing, Buffy cleared her throat and found her voice. “If you stay with me, I can actually protect you.” She lingered, taking a raspy breath. “Now I know how that sounds.” A wheezing laugh escaped her. It wasn’t the sort sound that made one think happy thoughts, but he believed it was meant in good humor. The laughter choked away. It took her a moment to speak again. Giles stole a glance. Despite her condition, she appeared quite happy. “This pretty much dings the cliché meter. The tweed wearing British librarian spends the night in the vamp’s castle. It just never ends well.”

Giles smiled. “Indeed. Too right,” he replied with a chuckle.

“I need you behind me for this to work. Faith’s not gonna like it,” she concluded.

Though his training told him that were he to say ‘yes’ it would be the most foolish decision he had ever made, he couldn’t fault her logic and there was no reason to doubt her integrity. “Allow me to ask you something before I render my decision.” When he offered her a brief moment of his attention, she nodded and he went on. “What do you intend to do about the debacle you’ve created?” That was too accusatory for my taste. Nevertheless, we haven’t minced words up to this point and I see no reason to start.

“Kill them,” she responded.

The statement, though barely a whisper, was sharp and direct. It concerned Giles. He went on. “And were you offered an alternative?”

Buffy turned to peer out her window. They were approaching the hotel. “If it was even close to workable, I’d jump all over it. I just don’t have a choice. That’s the point,” she mumbled.

Though his decision was already made, Giles paused as if to consider her response. He waited until they had nearly reached the driveway before offering his verdict. “Very well. You have my support in this matter. Be assured that I will do everything in my power to find an alternative solution.”

“Thanks,” Buffy whispered.

Amy and Faith were chattering quietly in the backseat. It was good that Amy had made some small amount of headway with the slayer, but Willow wasn’t sure she cared that much. Buffy was just more important. She was hurt really bad. I could hear it. Her chest rattled when she spoke. She tried to cover it up, but she couldn’t hide that.

Willow stared out the window at the hotel. She wasn’t looking forward to having to deal with any of this. What she really wanted most was to hold Buffy. That’s just not possible. Not now…

I even get that this is kinda silly. I mean, it’s not like she’s gonna die. Actually, what she said about ‘a couple hours’ is probably right, but…

I dunno. I guess it’s just—I know how much that has to hurt.

Well, maybe I don’t. I don’t remember much at all. I couldn’t feel anything. But she does and I don’t like seeing her in pain. No one else is all that concerned. It just doesn’t seem right.

It seems like they should care. She was injured helping them.

Jonathan guided the car into the hotel drive and parked near the entrance.

Willow said, “I’ll be back in a few.” She opened the door, careful to not let the travel mugs she’d stashed between it and the seat spill into the parking lot.

Really, I’m being a little hard on them. Look at what just happened. It was all our fault. We caused it.

The blood didn’t smell good anymore. It’s too bad too. This might actually help her. She walked over to a garbage can near the hotel entrance and threw the mugs away. I’ll get her some more when we get home.

Willow turned around. Giles was leaning in the passenger side of the Trans Am talking with the others. She needed the room key. It seemed like such a small, stupid thing to bother Buffy with, but it gave Willow an excuse to check up on her. As she approached Giles’ car, Buffy tried to get out.

Willow said, “No, sweetie, let me handle it. I just need the key.” I really don’t get her.

Sitting sideways in the seat with her feet outside the car, Buffy looked up and asked. “You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah…I’m pretty sure,” Willow replied. The rattle isn’t any better. Actually, it might be worse.

Buffy slid around to sit forward in the car and removed the card from her back pocket. The arduous process involved her turning onto her hip and working to fish it out with an arm that was probably broken. Feeling useless, Willow watched, wanting desperately to help. It doesn’t matter what I want. She wouldn’t deal well with that.

Concealing her distress as Buffy handed the card off, Willow said, “Just rest. I’ve got this.”

Buffy sat back in her seat. There was a quirky little grin on her face. It confused Willow to no end, but she didn’t ask. How can she be smiling? Between the pain and the loss, it makes no sense.

Willow closed the car door and walked back over to the Trans Am. “Giles, would you mind handing me my purse?” she asked.

“No, certainly,” Giles replied and leaned in the car. He extracted himself from the window and turned to pass it off.

Accepting her purse, Willow said with a smile, “Thanks. I won’t be long.” I’m not sure why she chose to do this now. I guess it’s that it gives them an opportunity to bail. I know that’s not what she wants. She’ll want to keep Faith close after this. Not that it matters.

As Willow strode across the parking lot to the hotel entrance, Jonathan called out, “Wait up.”

Surprised to hear his voice, Willow turned back to the cars. She glimpsed Faith striding toward the end of the building with Giles at her side. Noting them, but not really caring, her interest fixed on Jonathan. He was holding the seat and the seatbelt out the way for Amy. She climbed from the car and moved to join Willow.

Offering a friendly smile, Amy said, “I think that’s gonna be one of those Watcher/ Slayer kind of talks. We’d just be in the way.” She rolled her eyes. “Mind if we join you?”

Willow replied, “Uh, yeah…sure.” This wasn’t what she expected at all.

Jonathan went ahead of them to get the door. Willow followed him with Amy in tow. Together they passed through into the lobby. The desk clerk looked up. When Willow walked to the elevator, he returned his attention to the magazine he was reading.

It was kind of funny that Jonathan got a little sidetracked getting onto the elevator. Willow wondered how she could possibly lose track of a noisy, smelly human as she held the button to keep the doors open. When he reappeared, he was pulling a luggage cart. Huh…more than a little intuitive. Not to mention helpful. But then we’re going to the room, so it does make sense.

Their willingness to help clarified their stance beyond a doubt. In spite of everything, a warm smile brightened Willow’s face. She retraced her steps to the room with the others keeping pace behind her. It’s still kind of weird having them with me. Not quite an intrusion, but…

When she entered the room, the first thing that caught her eye was the roses. A few petals had fallen, but they were still beautiful. She went to the dresser and leaned down to breathe in their scent.

The luggage cart clattered across the threshold. A moment later, Willow felt Jonathan behind her. He whispered, “You really love her, don’t you?” It was a careful sound, like he wanted the question to be private despite Amy’s presence. She seemed to respect that. Hangers clattered as she emptied dresses from the closet, paying them no attention.

Willow turned to find him wearing a sort of soft sentimental smile. She returned the gesture and said, “Yes.” Unsure why, she shut her eyes to stave off the tears that wanted to come. Maybe it’s just the recognition. How much has he really seen? Is it that obvious?

It must be.

The pressure behind her eyes threatened to become a headache. She took a breath and slowly let it go. When she opened her eyes, Jonathan was loading the bags onto the cart.

Willow crossed the room and took the cooler from the closet. Packing it with the contents of the fridge was a little embarrassing, but no one said anything. Really, it was pretty much the opposite. When she finished, Jonathan took the cooler, loaded it on the cart and placed the bags around it to hide the Red Cross symbols. I guess he thinks that stealing blood is better than the alternatives. I’d have to agree with him now.

Returning to the dresser, Willow picked up her flowers. She took one last look around the room. Jonathan and Amy had the cart in the hallway and were waiting for her when she finished.

Willow met each of their gazes and said, “Thank you,” as she passed through the door. Buffy would laugh and say they make good minions. I’m not so sure.

They made their way to the lobby. Amy and Jonathan hauled the cart outside, leaving Willow to take care of the bill.

Holding the scythe did nothing to calm Rona’s nerves. It was supposed to be this amazing source of power for the slayer. We were warned to separate her from it. Not that it mattered. The slayer was a complete joke. She found it funny that the scythe did absolutely nothing except make her want to run that much faster. The sooner she was rid of it, the happier she’d be.

Vi said, “Four of us in three days. She’s picking us off like flies.” Her voice trembled with her footfalls.

The mood must be catching.

Huh…

What’s to catch? We’re fucked.

The sounds of crunching leaves gave their position away. Rona tried to stick to bare ground as she weaved through the trees. It wasn’t easy. There wasn’t much. “Yeah…Shane was one of our best fighters,” she whispered. “And Heather had some training. Eve and Chloe weren’t really all that surprising. Eve being chosen to do more than order pizza was the real shock. But the way she returned—” She fell flat as memories of the mutilation filled her mind. She made Quasimodo look sexy. “You ask me, this is pretty much suicide,” she concluded.

Sounding really frightened, Vi remarked, “I doubt we’d make it far if we—” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper.

Talking like this will get us killed unless we act. But it might be best. We stand a chance if we make a break for it now.

“I dunno. We could drop the scythe, hit the harbor and give it a shot,” Rona muttered. The words had barely crossed her lips when a whooshing sound caught her ear. She froze behind a small tree.

An arrow struck Vi in the chest. Still running, her body caught fire. It turned to cinders and broke apart.

Rona watched in horror as a breeze carried the ash away. She scanned the trees trying to locate the arrow’s source. Unable to find anything out of place, she threw the scythe and turned to run.

Pain cut through her chest. She dropped to her knees. Her eyes fixed on the arrow point where it poked through her shirt between her breasts. There was blood, but she was still whole.

I’m alive.

The bloody stain ignited. Fire radiated out from the arrow’s tip.

Rona screamed.

Startling from a dead sleep, Buffy bolted upright in her seat. Dull pain throbbed through her side. She clutched it and looked around.

Both cars were slowing. The bright pulsing red glow of the Trans Am’s brake lights and turn signal made her squint. It hadn’t been that long. She remembered being at the hotel. Now they were making the turn into her driveway. Guess it was time to check out.

“Welcome back,” Giles said. There was a knowing grin on the Watcher’s face.

“Yeah, thanks,” Buffy replied and rubbed her eyes. It didn’t hurt quite so much to talk. As the gates swung open, she sat quietly counting her blessings.

They rode up the driveway together not saying another word. In her car there was an active, animated discussion going on. She found herself wondering what it was about. There was one thing for sure, she was happy to see that Faith was still with them. I half expected her to bail at the hotel.

As they approached a split in the drive, Buffy said, “Hold up.” Giles stopped the car as the Trans Am continued on ahead.

Buffy opened the door and got out, leaning back in the car to say, “If you follow this to the right, it goes behind the house. Park in front of the garage and wait. I’ll get the door for you in a few.”

Buffy shut the car door when Giles nodded and started up the driveway on foot. There was a small garden in the center of the circular drive with flowers, some rocks and a oleander shrubs. She stooped down, using the foliage to conceal her presence so she could listen in. There’s a chance they’ll sense me, but I just gotta. Something tells me this is gonna be good.

From inside the car, Amy voice rang, “It means she was trying to help, Faith.” She strained to get out of the car, but the exertion didn’t slow her down one bit. “I don’t see why it’s so hard for you to get that through your thick head.”

Yeah…like I said, ‘good.’ Looks like Daphne and Velma are having a little lover’s quarrel. Whatever could that be about?

Faith rested her forearms on the car’s roof and grumbled, “But she said she could change it.”

Willow spoke up. “I did. But the changes can only be slight and they have to reflect some truth. I can augment something that’s already there.”

There was genuineness to her statement that caused Buffy pause. Y’know it’s kinda strange, there’s this thing about her. I didn’t put my finger on until now. She was bad for so long I’d forgotten how completely unassuming she is. It’s never a mystery how she feels. She doesn’t try to hide much and when she does it’s always funny. I think that’s one of the things that first drew me to her.

When she was bad that became something else. It turned into a mockery of innocence. But the mockery’s gone now. And I’m glad some part of that…

“Look, we’ve discussed this to death,” Faith growled, interrupting Buffy’s train of thought.

…survived me.

Staring Amy down across the roof of the car, Faith seethed, “I’m sick of this. I still don’t see what difference it makes. It’s like you said, Amy, soul or soulless just doesn’t mean much.” The slayer raked her hair out of her eyes before she asked, “What happened to that?”

Buffy couldn’t see Amy’s expression, but she guessed it to be pretty grim based on the show Faith was putting on. It surprised her a little when Amy replied, “She convinced me,” sounding totally levelheaded.

The rational didn’t affect Faith at all. “How?” she grumbled.

“By trusting me,” Amy replied. This was news to Buffy. She listened with interest as Amy went on. “I could’ve killed Buffy with those fireballs. Willow can’t manipulate fire at all.” When Faith gave her a sidelong glance, Willow shrugged as if to say, ‘she’s right.’ “She trusted me enough to help. You know me. I couldn’t do something like that by myself,” Amy concluded.

That was pretty much all Buffy needed to hear. Mystery solved.

Willow picked up the previous thought. “I’ll grant you that it’s imprecise science.” As her witch spoke, Buffy strode around the driveway. “There are an awful lot of wanna-be’s out there that claim to see auras as a scam. It doesn’t help with the credibility. I get that.” Buffy stopped at Willow’s side and put an arm around her. Willow returned the gesture. “But you have to see that there are certain things that people just can’t fake. This is pretty much one of them.” When Willow finished her statement, she turned her head, giving Buffy the sweetest smile.

Buffy had managed to draw the interest of the entire gang. She didn’t care. They can look all they want. It makes no difference to me. Willow’s caress was lots more appealing. Buffy focused on it. But it made her sad that she could only almost feel it through the layers of leather and scar tissue. I wonder if Jonathan likes dogs. I should get him a Great Dane for his birthday. It’d totally complete the image.

“The first time I saw it,” Amy said as she studied them. Her attention returned to Faith. “It was almost the color it is now. A dark reddish-brown, liked dried blood. Not a good sign.” She smiled. “I mean, seeing it at all was a good sign, but the intent? It sorta means she was thinking about murder. Big surprise. But it was patchy and flecked with the same brown it is now, so…some hope.”

Buffy asked, “When?” trying to imagine when Amy had gotten a chance.

“In the hospital,” Amy replied.

“Murder,” Buffy said with a laugh. “Yeah, I was pissed. Between the vamp and that stupid nurse, it was a small miracle no one else died.”

Faith had calmed some. She asked, “Brown?”

Buffy was kind of wondering the same thing.

Willow explained, “Depending on the hue, it means she’s overloaded…really stressed.”

Amy nodded and said, “That’s how I took it.”

Buffy snickered. “Yeah, ‘stressed’ pretty much covers it,” she mumbled and went to the door to unlock it. “Bitch was trying to kill my slayer.” We’ve made Giles wait long enough. There’s no reason we can’t take this inside.

Advancing on Buffy’s position, Faith snarled, “Your slayer?” She seized Buffy’s shoulder and demanded, “What the fuck?”

Shit!

I should really learn to watch my mouth. Oh well…the milk’s spilled…and I’m not crying.

Let’s see if we can avoid the blood.

Buffy left the keys hanging in the lock and spun. Grabbing Faith’s wrist, Buffy met her gaze and hissed, “You heard me.” She wrenched the slayer’s arm down as a reminder and filled in. “You’re alive because I let you live.”

Faith struggled to regain her cool. That’s right. You really don’t want to mess with me. She asked, “Why?” when Buffy finally released her wrist.

“Like I told your Watcher, ‘the devil you know’,” Buffy replied and took a step back, leaning against the door. With a sarcastic smile, she explained, “You always did have sort of a dark side, Faith. I just figured the replacement wouldn’t be half as entertaining.”

Walking straight into the feud, Willow asked, “We gonna stand out here all night, or—?” Buffy got that she was done when her witch went on. “I mean, the pissing contest is intriguing, but—”

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