CHAPTER 37

“Fine isn’t good enough,” Dawn warned. “I want it all, Faith. I want amazing, hot, wild…Show me those skills I’ve heard about for so long.”

If Dawn wanted, Faith vowed to provide. Hands moving surely, Faith reached around Dawn’s back, releasing the catch on her bra. The material sagged forward. Palms caressing over soft skin, Faith slid the straps down, lifting each of Dawn’s hands from the comforter until her bra was completely off.

Ignoring the desire flaring in her own body, Faith slowly raised her head, suckling on Dawn’s right nipple.

A mix between a groan and a whimper sounded in her ear. Wetness coated her thigh as Dawn rocked against her.

“No, D. Let me do the work this time,” Faith whispered. Her hands fell to Dawn’s hips, stilling the restless motion. “Be patient, baby. I’ll get you there,” she vowed. “Sit up, D.”

Dawn did as requested, rising until she sat squarely on Faith’s thigh.

“Perfect,” Faith said, eyes worshiping the tanned and toned body hovering over her. “Remember, baby. You don’t like, we stop.” Gliding her right index finger through Dawn’s damp pubic hair, Faith teased the swollen bundle of nerves just peeking out.

She was rewarded with a jerk of slim hips, and her name springing from Dawn’s lips.

“That’s it, baby. Let me know what you like.” Faith watched Dawn intently, enjoying the play of emotions on her face. Head back, eyes closed, Dawn was flushed and panting. As Faith continued her caresses, the muscles in Dawn’s face tightened. “Feels good, don’t it, D?” Faith added a little more pressure.

“Yes.” The reply ghosted out, overshadowed by Dawn’s gasping breaths. “Faith…please…”

Smiling softly, Faith raised her head, brushing her lips over Dawn’s. “I’m here, baby. I’ve got you.” She moved her finger down, ignoring the faint whine from Dawn.

“Don’t stop,” Dawn ordered, body moving restlessly against Faith’s thigh.

“I won’t, D,” Faith promised. “Give me a second…” During the exchange, Faith’s finger slipped inside Dawn, gently stroking her inner walls. A callused thumb replaced her finger on Dawn’s clit. “I’m not stopping until you ask, baby.”

***

“I’m surprised,” Buffy deadpanned. “How about you, Will?”

Willow rolled her eyes. “Surprised? No. Freaked? More than a little.”

Turning back to Anya and Drew, Buffy ignored Giles. “What do you have so far?” she asked intently.

“If you’d been paying attention,” Anya snapped, “you’d know we have nothing. Zip. Zero-“

Before she could rant further, Drew cut in. “There are vague warnings about the Seal and a ritual the First has to perform. We just can’t find any reference to what the ritual entails.”

It wasn’t good enough. Buffy gripped Willow’s hand tightly, trying to cage the sudden impatience causing her leg to bounce. “What can we do to-

The sharp sound of shattering glass interrupted. Everyone turned to look. “Sorry.” A skinny, young redhead blushed and waved a hand at the crowd. “It slipped out of my hand.”

***

Willow stared at the liquid dripping off the coffee table and onto the rug underneath. “Goddess, we are so stupid.” She pointed at the spill. “We didn’t tell them, Buffy. How could we not tell them?” Her voice rose with each word. Now they were the center of attention.

Buffy didn’t respond out loud. Instead, her wry inner voice spoke through the link. I admit to not being the sharpest crayon in the box, Will. What are you babbling about?

“The dream, Buffy,” Willow answered. “Look…” she pointed at the spilled drink. “It’s like the dream.” Buffy still looked lost, and Willow pulled away, planting her hands on her hips. “Remember me and you working in the DMP?”

Finally, realization hit Buffy. Her eyes widened and she nodded. “Oh, yeah. The dream.”

A throat cleared gently. “Perhaps you would care to fill the rest of us in, Willow?” Giles smiled uncomfortably. “I wouldn’t ask if it didn’t appear you thought it might be useful.”

Tension sprang up in her link with Buffy. Willow stiffened at the impact; her eyes flickered to her wife.

Looking pale, fists clenched at her side, Buffy met her eyes.

Willow waited until Buffy nodded curtly before continuing. “Buffy and I shared a Slayer dream last night.” Had it really only been last night? Willow rubbed burning eyes. “It was weird. In the first scene, we were working at the DMP and the soda machine wouldn’t shut off. It just kept pouring out, all over my shoes.” She grinned self mockingly. “That’s why the spilled drink reminded me.”

“I didn’t know you could share those dreams.” Drew closed the book she was still holding and frowned up at Willow. “Are you sure it was a Slayer dream?”

“I’m sure,” Buffy answered brusquely. “I’ve had them before. I’ve even shared them before. With Faith.”

Sounding hesitant, Giles entered the conversation. “Perhaps we could study that at a later time? I believe we need to hear about the dream now. It might help shed some light on how to defeat the First.”

Flushing, Willow took Buffy’s hand, pulling her back to the floor in front of the couch. “It’s a little fuzzy now. After the thing at the DMP, we were in Restfield and we found this axe thing.” She looked at Buffy for help.

“Not an axe, Will. A scythe.” Buffy tilted her head, brows meeting between her eyes. “You know, it was huge. It should have been heavy, but it wasn’t.”

“Ooh, ooh…it had writing on it, too. Runes, I think.” Willow bounced excitedly on the floor.

Drew leaned across the couch, digging through a pile of books next to Anya. “Do you remember which runes?” She opened a book, flipped through the pages and tossed it aside before opening the next book.

“Um…” Willow looked at Buffy. “Maybe?”

“That’s better than me.” Buffy shrugged sheepishly. “I can maybe tell you what the scythe itself looked like. Why?” She watched Drew toss more books aside.

Drew didn’t answer. She mumbled to herself and finished the pile of books on the couch. “It sounds familiar. I’m sure I saw something like that while we were looking for information on the Seal. I just…I can’t find it now.”

“We’ll have you and Willow make a sketch.” Giles perched on the arm of the couch. “Go on. Tell us about the rest of the dream. After the bit in Restfield, what happened next?”

“That’s where it got really weird,” Buffy announced.

Willow chuckled. “Yeah, because me working in the DMP wasn’t odd enough.” Buffy bumped her shoulder, a trickle of amusement traveling through their link. Despite the gravity of the situation, Willow felt happier than she had in days. This was what they were; this was their lives. Not hiding away in a cabin. She and Buffy were meant to be here, researching and talking about the latest evil in town.

Stroking the back of Buffy’s hand, she continued recounting the dream. “After Restfield, we were in a church, a Catholic church. The priest was doing one of the old Latin masses – the part where he confesses his sins and changes the bread.”

“Are you sure you and Buffy hadn’t been drinking before you went to sleep?” Anya demanded.

“Yes, Anya. You got us.” Willow threw her hands over her face dramatically. “We had that whole case of beer with dinner.”

Drew choked on a giggle, and Buffy vibrated with her own suppressed laughter against Willow’s side.

“Well, I mean…”Anya mumbled. “It’s all a little hard to believe. Some fast food restaurant, a weapon, and a Church?”

***

“Welcome to a Slayer’s head, Anya.” Buffy pushed away from Willow, her momentary amusement dying. “Ask Faith about the one we shared before Graduation – if she even remembers it.” Buffy did. The sound of Faith’s blood dripping onto the sheets blocked out the murmur of conversations in other parts of the room for a second.

“It may be strange, Buffy, but Mama says Slayer dreams always have meaning – even the parts you think are crazy.” Drew didn’t flinch when four pairs of eyes locked on her. “The thing at the DMP, the mass…they mean something. We just have to discover what.”

***

Faith gently moved a strand of hair off Dawn’s face. The bright blue eyes were closed, the soft lips opened on quiet breaths. “What did we just do, D?” she whispered to the sleeping girl. Dawn’s quiet snores were her only answer.

She couldn’t stay. Faith’s muscles twitched restlessly. The bed – and the body in it – were warm. Faith shivered as she climbed out and carefully covered Dawn with the blankets. Grabbing her discarded clothes, Faith pulled them on. She managed one step toward the door before a whisper in here ear pulled her up short.

“Don’t go,” the nearly soundless voice said.

Faith looked back at the bed. Dawn was still asleep. Frowning, Faith opened her senses. Nothing. What the hell? Shaking her head, Faith strode to the door, opening it quietly and slipping out into the hall. “Sleep tight, D,” she whispered as the door slid shut.

CHAPTER 38

Faith crept silently down the stairs. She already missed Dawn. Rubbing her arms against a continued chill, she hit the last step – and almost screamed.

“Honeymoon over so soon?” Kirstan leaned against the adjacent wall.

“Fuck, Old Timer. Whistle or stomp your feet next time, will ya?” Faith asked, slowly straightening from the defensive crouch she’d automatically taken when Kirstan had surprised her.

Kirstan shook her head. “Sorry. You’re a Slayer. You should have felt me, heard me, even smelled me before you ever got down the stairs.”

Scowling and praying the heat in her cheeks wasn’t visible, Faith muttered, “Had things on my mind.” Her right heel bounced, tension thrumming through her. She needed out. Now.

“If you’re that distracted, shouldn’t you be back upstairs?” Kirstan’s eyes bore into her, and Faith twitched under the intense scrutiny. When Faith didn’t respond, Kirstan shifted away from the wall. “You and my new daughter-in-law are cut from the same cloth. It’s not wrong to ask for help, you know.”

“I don’t need-“ Faith growled.

A hand shot up, stopping her denial. “Maybe you really can’t see it. I can.”

“Huh?” What the hell was Kirstan talking about? “See what?” The leg bouncing grew more frantic.

“That.” Kirstan pointed to Faith’s leg.

Faith pressed her foot to the floor, stilling its motion. “I’m fine,” she lied.

“Really?” Kirstan moved closer. “Your aura is shifting so fast it’s about to make me lose my lunch. There is so much energy trying to get out, I don’t know why you haven’t exploded.”

“If you know all that, get the fuck out of the way so I can go beat up on something.” Faith flung her palms up in the air. “All you want to fucking do is talk. Weren’t you a Slayer? We don’t talk. We kill. Get with the program.”

She grinned reluctantly when Kirstan tossed back her head and laughed. “I’ll try. I’m old, though. I don’t know if I’m up to learning any new tricks.” Still chuckling, Kirstan lightly punched Faith’s shoulder. “How about I show you some of my old ones? Let’s go out to the Training Barn and we can spar.”

“Wicked.” Faith’s bouncing was more excitement then restless energy this time. “I’d ask B, but Red’s probably got her researching.” No way was she risking getting caught up in that.

She followed Kirstan outside. Shadows from the rapidly fading light darkened the path to the barn. “You and Dawn OK?” Kirstan asked casually, head back as she examined the trees lining the path.

Faith smiled wryly. “You got questions, just ask, Old Timer. Don’t pretend to be making small talk.” Lifting a hand, she ran it through her hair pensively before answering. “Yeah, we’re good. I can hear her in my head now.” The smile mutated, growing wider and freer. “She’s sleeping right now, but she knows where I am.”

As they entered the barn, Kirstan flicked on the overhead lighting. A low hum filled the air. Shucking off her over shirt and track pants, Kirstan stood in front of Faith in a sports bra and shorts. Eyeing Faith, she began stretching. “If you’re so OK with the bond, why the dramatic exit?”

“If I’d wanted dramatics, I’d have gone out the window.” Smirking at Kirstan, Faith did a little stretching of her own. Slowly windmilling her arms and rolling her neck, she tried to loosen a little of the stiffness from her earlier restlessness. “I’m not really good at the whole cuddling thing. D had me in a killer grip, and I needed to move.”

She finished swinging her arms and stepped onto the wrestling mat covering the floor. Ever since she’d seen Kirstan at the bottom of the stairs, Faith had been struggling with one question. “They had you watching the stairs, didn’t they?” she blurted out.

Kirstan didn’t answer. Giving Faith a long look, she stepped onto the mat and took a defensive stance.

They circled each other, each waiting for an opening.

Faith breathed roughly at first. Kirstan’s non-answer hit hard, and anger simmered. What the hell did Willow’s family want? She’d come back to help out. She and Buffy were starting to get over their past – even if Buffy had had to toss Faith around to get there.

A hard kick to her chin took her to the mat.

“You want to pay attention? I didn’t come out here to waste my time.” Kirstan stepped back, arms crossed.

The Slayer growled softly at the challenge. “Lucky shot, Old Timer. It’s your one freebie,” Faith snapped. Scrambling to her feet, Faith didn’t bother with conventions. Head down, she charged at Kirstan, intending to take the older woman to the mat.

Unfortunately, Kirstan stepped nimbly aside. Propelled by momentum, Faith barreled past Kirstan, skidding to a stop near the door.

“Last chance, Faith. Get serious or get out.” Kirstan was back in her ‘waiting’ pose, looking bored.

The Slayer strained for release. Gripping her self control with both hands, Faith stepped back onto the mat. This time, she consciously concentrated on smoothing out her breathing and her heartbeat. Eyes locked onto Kirstan, Faith started their circular dance again. Her world narrowed. Breathe in, shift and slide, exhale. Breathe in, watch Kirstan’s weight shift, exhale. She slowly regained some calm.

“They didn’t ask me to watch,” Kirstan finally replied as they felt each other out. “Jenny did.”

The words coincided with a spinning back kick.

Ducking, Faith dropped to the ground, barely avoiding the blow. Her calm fled, replaced by anger and bitterness. Jenny. It made a strange kind of sense. She had, after all, abandoned Faith after she heard the news about prison. As Faith let the words sink in, the Slayer fought to break free, fueled by Faith’s emotions.

Still marginally in control, Faith responded to the inner frenzy. From her prone position, she tried to sweep Kirstan’s pivot leg. She just caught the tip of Kirstan’s shoe as the retired Slayer jumped over the sweep. Kirstan didn’t go down, but her balance was off when she landed.

A howl sounded in her head, and Faith’s control began to slip. Movements speeding up, she took advantage of Kirstan’s lack of stability, sending a foot into the back of her knee. As Kirstan pitched to the floor, Faith was already on her feet. “Why? Did she think I was going to hurt Dawn?”

The question drove her anger higher. She lashed out, aiming a vicious kick at Kirstan’s ribs. Hard hands grabbed her ankle just before impact, yanking her forward and down to one knee. Faith hit the ground hard; muscles strained at the odd, near-split position.

“No,” Kirstan panted, letting go of Faith’s ankle and kipping up. “She told me after you two went upstairs that you’d need to talk after the bonding was complete.”

***

Buffy stared at the shape on the paper. “Um…It looked a lot more like an axe in the dream.” Rotating the drawing to the right didn’t help it look more like a weapon and less like a child’s art project. Neither did rotating it to the left. Rubbing her forehead, she looked at Drew. “I’m guessing this isn’t going to help you find that book.”

Drew’s carefully blank expression didn’t ease her embarrassment.

“Perhaps you could describe the scythe, Buffy?” Giles suggested. He took the drawing gently out of her hands and gave it to Willow. “Willow can work on sketching the runes.”

Gritting her teeth, Buffy nodded stiffly. “Fine.” She could see the hurt in his eyes; she wasn’t ready to forgive or forget so soon, however. “It was an axe. Not like you use to cut wood, though. It had two heads.” Closing her eyes, Buffy continued to describe the weapon from her dream. As she talked, the low hum of conversation from the room faded.

The change was so gradual, she didn’t notice it at first. When crickets started chirping and a soft breeze wafted through the room, Buffy’s eyes snapped open. She was definitely not in the living room any longer. Familiar tombstones and mausoleums identified her location as Restfield Cemetery. Buffy tried to move forward. Nothing happened. Heart racing, she struggled silently and fruitlessly to change position. Glancing down, Buffy noticed the scythe clutched in her hands. The dark wood was smooth with age, slight indentations marking the places where many other hands had gripped the haft.

Moonlight glinted off the chipped, curving blades. Blue flickers of magical energy backlit the runes etched near her closed fists.

“Buffy?” Giles’ worried voice sounded in her ear.

Restfield shimmered then solidified. The air suffocated her, and Buffy sucked in labored breaths.

“Buffy!” This time the word was accompanied with a heavy hand on her shoulder.

Jerking, Buffy surged forward – onto her knees. Drew, Anya, and Giles peered at her worriedly. “What the hell was that?”

“That was you, having some fantasy about Willow while the rest of us are researching,” Anya cried. “I’m stuck in here while my Xander is getting sweaty building bunk beds, and you’re-“

“Good Lord, Anya, do shut up.” Giles glared at her until she slumped on the couch, pouting. Visibly taking a breath and trying to calm himself, he looked back at Buffy. “You stopped talking, Buffy, right in the middle of your description and stared at…well, at nothing. It was as if you were in a trance.”

Looking at Willow, Buffy reached for her hand. She gripped the slender fingers tightly, only relaxing when Willow squeezed her hand in return. “I was back in Restfield, holding the scythe.” Retrieving her drawing from the floor in front of Willow, Buffy held it up for the group to see. “I’d say whatever sent the original dream wasn’t happy with my artwork.”

“Kindergartners wouldn’t be happy with that artwork.” Anya had recovered from her earlier snit.

“Thank you,” Buffy said dryly. “No one ever told me my Slayer duties included still art sketching.” Releasing Willow’s hand, she stood up and paced. “There wasn’t anything new this time. It was big on the weird. Not so big on the information.”

Willow handed Buffy a notepad. “Did you see these?”

Frowning, Buffy peered at the strange symbols.

“Those are the runes I think were on the handle.” Willow flashed her full smile, the tip of her tongue peeking between her teeth. “The DMP is a better bet than art school for me, too, Buffy.”

“Great. One mystery solved.” As Buffy stared at the runes, they seemed to glow, like the ones on the scythe’s haft in her second “dream.” “That’s them,” she stated confidently. “In case I got confused, my new Sandman made them all glowy for me.” The confidence faded. “Do I even want to know what they mean?”

All her attention was on Willow, waiting for her answer.

***

“Runes aren’t prophecies, Buffy.” Willow tried to reassure Buffy. She could almost see the resignation in the clouded hazel eyes. “Witches use them like a…” she struggled for words Buffy might understand. “Like a magical shorthand. Each rune has a variety of meanings. Combining them can enhance a spell or protect something – a weapon like the axe.”

Buffy straightened a little. “So, no prophecy?”

“Nope. We are prophesy free.” Except the one about her. Willow chose not to remind Buffy of that. Plucking the pad from Buffy’s hand, Willow read the runes. “These are Germanic in origin.” She traced the first character with a finger. “Ansuz: leader or authority figure.”

Was it her imagination, or did the run seem to glow where her finger had touched?

Watching the paper more intently, she continued to the next marking. “Raioo: destiny.” The blue intensified. It wasn’t just a trick of the light. Willow felt a sudden drain on her reservoirs. She tried to pull away, to lock down the escaping magic. A wordless warning sounded in her head. Willow had to finish the rune script. Voice deepening with the force of her unintended spellcasting, Willow spoke the final rune name, “Hagalaz, testing or disaster.”

A/N: The rune names are Americanized versions of the Germanic originals. I don’t have an international keyboard for specialized lingual notations.

CHAPTER 39

The blue glow spread, enveloping Willow. The room didn’t quite disappear. She could still see Buffy’s worried face in front of her, hear Buffy calling her name. Wanting to reassure her wife, Willow reached out a hand. Her fingers tingled from magical energy when it touched the azure barrier. Pushing, pounding…Willow couldn’t get through.

She started to reach for the link when a new wave of energy poured from her reserves. The wall separating her from Buffy thickened. Frustrated, Willow fought to push the magic back behind the walls she’d constructed. For a second, it almost worked.

The barrier flickered, and Buffy’s voice sounded clearly. “Will, come on-“ she called frantically.

Just as quickly, the wall was back. A new scene overlay the living room. Willow wasn’t interested in the show. Rather than pushing the magic back, she pulled in more. She decided she’d shatter the barrier with raw power. As energy filled her channels, the vision showing on the magical movie screen sharpened.

Robed figures stood around a glowing Circle. A bloody corpse was spread-eagled inside the glowing area. Willow’s concentration faltered. The body had bleached-blond hair. She squinted, peering through the bright glow of the magical barrier. Ridged forehead, fangs. Spike?

All of a sudden, Willow didn’t want to destroy the glowing wall. The power rippling inside strengthened the shield, and the vision solidified slightly. It was Spike. His skin was marred with runes carved into his flesh. Willow ‘leaned in’ closer. Blood poured from the wounds, dripping down Spike’s sides onto the ground. No…not the ground. The floor. Willow thought it might be concrete.

The longer she looked, the more power drain she felt. She couldn’t maintain this level of power for long. Whatever had started the spell had reached deep into her internal stores. Straining for a few more details, Willow scanned the shadowed room where the rituals were being held. Boxes and shelves lined the walls. The power flow faltered. The scene faded.

Willow managed one last desperate burst of energy. It wasn’t enough. Spike, the Bringers, and the Circle were gone.

Blinking dazedly, Willow looked around her parents’ living room. None of the researchers moved. They all simply stared at her in varying degrees of surprise and worry.

“Uh, hey,” Willow mumbled, waving briefly. “I’m back.”

For a second, she thought the strange spell had frozen the room. Then a small body slammed into her and a pair of muscled arms squeezed until she squeaked.

Wiggling in the tight embrace, Willow managed a breathy, “Buffy.” The arms didn’t loosen, though. “Need…need to breathe, Buffy.”

Finally, Buffy stepped back a couple of inches. Her arms still encircled Willow, but they weren’t squeezing. “What happened? You started explaining the rune thingies and then blue light exploded around you. I couldn’t reach you.”

The room slowly came back to life as Willow slipped from Buffy’s arms and dropped onto the couch next to Drew.

***

Buffy watched Willow closely as she sat next to her sister. A frisson of fear snaked through her. Had her wife lost control of the magic again? Cursing her lack of magical knowledge, Buffy peered at their link. Everything seemed fine. Willow was simply tired and confused. “Will?” she asked again. “What happened?” Buffy dropped to her knees in front of the couch, holding Willow’s slender hands tightly.

“I’m not really sure,” came the wry response. “One minute I’m doing the Runes for Dummies Presentation and the next, I’m having an in-mind experience.” Willow stroked a thumb over Buffy’s hand. “Did you…did you feel anything while I was tranced out?”

Frowning, Buffy shook her head. “No. Should I have?” Her voice was sharp with worry.

Giles’ hand on her shoulder kept her from freaking further. “Willow, what did you see? Was there something attacking your bond with Buffy?”

“Oh, oh, no!” Willow answered immediately. Then she blushed. “Sorry, I guess the question didn’t come out right.”

Nearly trembling from a need to get up and do, Buffy said urgently, “Will, please. Tell us what happened.”

Willow’s explanation didn’t help her calm down.

“They had Spike?” Buffy realized her voice was a little loud when they were once again the center of attention. Lowering her tone, she asked again, “Was he OK?”

She flushed when Willow met her eyes. “He was bleeding, Buffy. They’d carved marks into his chest. I’m thinking no to that one.”

Green eyes bore into her, and Buffy twitched. “You know,” she mumbled, “Spike’s a friend.” An auburn eyebrow rose a little. OK, they both knew he’d been far more than that. “He’s like an honorary Scooby,” she tried again, needing to justify her earlier reaction. She didn’t want Willow to think it was anything more than concern for a friend.

Drew interrupted their staring match. “That’s probably the ritual to open the Seal,” she said. “Did you get anything that might help us find where it takes place?”

“Uh…” Willow bit her lip, and the eyebrow dropped and then met its mate as Willow frowned. “I tried to look around. It was really hard, though. Shelves, some boxes.”

Buffy leaned in, taking Willow’s hand in encouragement. “What else, Will?”

“The boxes had numbers on them. Years, I think.” Willow looked up and shrugged. “That’s it.”

A familiar throat clearing sounded behind Buffy. “Yes, Giles?” she snapped. Couldn’t he just ask the question without the sound effects?

“Yes, forgive me.” He sounded tired, and Buffy closed her eyes, ashamed of herself. “Do you perhaps remember which years, Willow? We have so little to go on. Maybe that might help us narrow the locations.”

“I think so,” Willow answered. “It was weird, though. The years weren’t listed separately. One said 1990 slash 91. And…I think another said 1986 slash 87.”

Giles sighed and moved around Buffy. Perching on the table near the couch, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Why am I not surprised?”

“You know where it is?” Drew’s excited question barely beat out Buffy’s.

“Indeed.” Smiling wryly, he looked directly at Buffy. “It sounds a great deal like the basement of Sunnydale High School.”

***

“Then she’s as fucked up as you, Old Timer. Talk?” Faith taunted. Thinking Kirstan might still be off balance, she attacked. Leaping into the air, she spun, lashing out with her right heel. For the second time in the span of minutes, a hard hand wrapped around her ankle.

Kirstan used Faith’s momentum, whipping her around before tossing her across the large room. “I’d like to think you’re just out of practice, little girl. This is pathetic.”

Panting, Faith glowered at Kirstan. “Yuck it up. Go ahead. I never claimed to be as good as B.” She scrambled to her feet, approaching the older woman with more caution this time.

“I’m glad.” The mocking tone was still there. “I’d say your Watcher didn’t know how to handle all your attitude –“ Kirstan never had a chance to finish.

The words echoed hollowly in Faith’s head, mixed with the agonized screams of her Watcher as Kakistos tortured her to death. The Slayer slipped the leash. Swinging wildly, she went after Kirstan. This time, Kirstan couldn’t avoid the blows.

The Slayer drove the cause of her host’s anguish around the room. Soon…soon she’d break through the woman’s guard. Quickening the attack, the Slayer pressed forward, and Kirstan went down. It was exactly what the Slayer had been waiting for. She dove at her target – and yelped when a booted foot slammed into her stomach.

While the Slayer tried to shake off confusion and pain, Faith resumed control. “Kirstan,” she gasped, curled on the floor, “get out. Please. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She didn’t expect the snort or the laughter. “You must have been sleeping while your Slayer tried to kill me. You and she need a trainer. I have some bruises and bumps. That’s all. My fall was choreographed to suck you in.”

“Fuck.” Faith slammed a hand onto the mat under her. Kirstan had to be joking. The Slayer hadn’t been holding anything back. “Can you just stop with the crap? I already killed a couple of people. I ain’t looking to make it three,” she snapped.

“You killed humans, Faith.” Kirstan walked over and sat next to her. “Humans. I’m not human. I am,” Kirstan grimaced and corrected herself, “I was a Slayer. The power may be diluted now, but I’m still way beyond your victims.”

The remaining adrenaline and anger drained away. “Way beyond me, too, Old Timer,” Faith admitted quietly.

“Why?” Kirstan asked just as softly. The taunting note was gone from her voice. “Buffy showed up here on the verge of a breakdown and still wiped the floor with me. You’re in far better condition. Why the difference in skills?”

“The Watcher you mentioned.” Faith closed her eyes. Maybe the darkness would help with this story. She’d only ever told Buffy – and even Buffy didn’t know all of it. “Well, my first one, anyway. She…” Faith coughed to clear the lump from her throat. “We hadn’t been together very long, and I wasn’t big on listening to her.”

She stopped her tale, holding very still, trying desperately to hold back the tears. The hot liquid leaked out anyway, trailing slowly down the side of her head into her hair. “Some really old vamp came after us. He killed her while I stood there.”

Strong hands gripped her shoulders. “Easy, Faith. I’m right here, little girl.”

Something broke at that. Deep inside, deeper even than her new bond with Dawn had yet reached, a wall shattered. The tears came faster and in greater numbers. “It’s my fault she’s dead,” Faith choked out. “I didn’t know how to help her, and I froze.”

Kirstan gave up holding her at a distance and pulled her into her lap, rocking them slowly.

“I ran,” Faith continued, reliving every detail in her mind. Her muscles twitched and strained as she numbly related her flight to Sunnydale and her meeting with Buffy. “B was…she was like some Slayer God. I mean, even before I’d gotten there, she was all my Watcher could talk about.”

“She’s just a Slayer, Faith,” Kirstan broke in. “Surely you know that?”

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