CHAPTER 46

 

“Ah, how did you get the news so fast? We just decided to head that way like a minute ago.” Faith didn’t really want to stop and chat; she was simply confused – and maybe a little shaky from the sword incident.

 

Kirsten didn’t appear to want to talk, either. “The girls are ready to go after Spike and the Seal. Jenny’s got them in the vans with all the magic stuff. I decided to take something a little less mystical.” The sword tip rose slightly.

 

“Give us a couple. We’ve got a group ready to get the Scythe. You got more of those in the house or do I need to go outside?” Faith waited for the answer, her enthusiasm once again rising.

 

“Take this one. I’ll grab a couple more and meet you outside.” The leather-wrapped hilt of Kirsten’s sword pressed into Faith’s palm before the older Slayer turned and sprinted through the house. Faith heard the kitchen door open and slam shut.

 

“I see you are properly armed.” The female Watcher stood in the hallway behind Faith. “Is that all you intend to take with you?”

 

Behind her, Faith watched Buffy and Wesley emerge from the den. Both of them grimaced when they saw who blocked their path. They didn’t have time to play nice. They needed the Scythe and to take care of the Seal. Ignoring the tiny voice screaming a warning in her head, Faith moved closer to the Watcher. “Listen up, bitch. In case you haven’t heard about me, I’m Faith. The Bad Slayer. I’m just off a deuce in Corona. You open your mouth again, and I might just forget I’m trying to reform.”

 

Her sensitive Slayer hearing picked up the woman’s faster heartbeat and her gulping swallow. “I…I understand,” the woman quavered out.

 

“Then get the fuck out of the way so we can get going.” Faith stepped aside, and the woman scurried off. “Stupid bitch,” she mumbled. Then she turned back toward Buffy and Wesley. “Let’s motor. The Old Timer’s got the van loaded. Seems it’s a good time to head to SunnyD,” Faith told them.

 

“Just like old times,” Buffy commented with what Faith assumed was a smile. It looked more like an involuntary twitch of her facial muscles. “Did you forget about me? Or are you going alone?” She waved at Faith’s weapon.

 

“Nah. I thought about it, though. It was you or Junior.” Faith started for the door.

 

Buffy’s smack to her shoulder had Faith staggering the next few steps. “And you picked me. I’m touched.”

 

Grinning, Faith tossed over her throbbing shoulder. “You ain’t so bad in a fight, B. Junior… Does she even know which end of a sword to pick up?” Cool air swirled around her as she shoved open the door and stepped outside. A single engine rumbled in the darkness. “Guess we’re all going together, B.”

 

***

 

As they hurried toward the vehicle, Buffy commented, “Let’s hope the witches aren’t taking a big crew. It might get a little crowded.” She peered at the van. The tinted windows and the cloudy night sky kept even her Slayer sight from determining how many people were inside.

 

“Fuck, B. You’re slow. If it’s crowded, we can have D and Red sit in our laps.” Faith’s grin flashed, and Buffy was sure her dimples were out. “Gotta start thinking positive.”

 

“I stand corrected,” Buffy muttered as she grabbed the handle to the van’s sliding door and pulled.

 

Crowded didn’t begin to describe the vehicle. Jennifer sat behind the wheel, impatiently tapping it with her fingernails. Angel and Gunn created one rank on the floor where the rear seats normally rested. Tara and Drew huddled in the next row amid piles of magical paraphernalia.

 

Faith and Wesley scrambled in, and bodies shifted to make room.

 

Spinning back toward the house, Buffy saw Kirsten running their way. “Jennifer?” she asked, raising her voice over the sound of the engine. “Where’s Willow?” As soon as the words were out, Buffy rolled her eyes. Stupid. She didn’t need to ask. Will? Are you on your way? The van’s almost ready to leave.

 

A strong and unidentifiable mix of emotions flowed through their link. No, Buffy. I’m staying here.

 

Total surprise severed their connection, leaving Buffy gaping into the darkness next to the van. Staying here? Willow had to be kidding. They needed her to stop the First from opening the Seal.

 

While she grappled with her shock, Kirsten bounded up. “Unless something’s wrong, you need to be in the van, Buffy. We don’t have time for you to collapse again.”

 

Buffy didn’t move. Stop playing around, Will. She managed to pull herself together enough to think at Willow.

 

“In or out?” Kirsten’s voice sounded right next to her.

 

Holding up a single index finger, Buffy signaled Kirstan to be quiet while she waited for Willow’s response. She felt Willow’s regret. Buffy-

 

Buffy felt herself come off the ground as two hands gripped her arms roughly. “Talk on the way,” Kirstan said sternly seconds before she tossed Buffy into the van.

 

***

 

Willow broke off her attempt at explaining when she felt Buffy’s anger. Cringing, she scrambled for something better than, “Mom told me I couldn’t go.”  However, her mental troubles changed direction when Buffy’s emotions settled into something closer to embarrassment. Buffy? What’s going on?

 

Your mother just threw me into the van! Even without seeing Buffy’s face, Willow knew her wife was scowling. She picked me up and threw me into the van!

 

It took all her self control not to laugh. I’m sure she had a good reason, Buffy. Getting them back to the important issues, Willow explained her lack of participation in the mission. It was hard going, though, because Buffy wasn’t impressed with Jennifer’s fears.

 

Finally, after several minutes of listening to Buffy sputter in her head, Willow threw up her physical hands and snapped, I’m not happy about this either. I tried to sound like it so you would just go along with it.

 

Willow winced at the feelings of hurt and resentment beaming in from Buffy’s side of the link.

 

Look, Buffy, it’s over and done. You’re in the van, and I’m not. Start planning and getting ready for Sunnydale. She softened her tone, widening the channel to its fullest and pushing all her love and hope in. I want you back here in one piece in the morning, Slayer.

 

An answering touch caressed her mind before Willow pulled away from the contact. With a tired and frustrated sigh, she looked up at a questioning Giles. “Sorry. Buffy was about to jump out of the van and come pick me up. I had to talk really fast – faster than normal – to keep her on track.”

 

His lips twitched. “It is really too bad I bowed to Council pressure. I could have used your assistance many times over the years.”

 

For the first time, the reference to the Council’s interference didn’t make Willow angry. In fact, she giggled at Giles’ wry comment. “You might not have liked how that worked, Giles.” Winking at him, she plopped onto the couch and picked up a book. “Back then, I probably would have sided with Buffy. We were teenagers after all. Adults said the dumbest things, and they never knew anything.”

 

Chuckling, Giles nodded. “Indeed. You are quite right. You and Buffy might well have been the death of me.” He sobered after a moment. “Now that Buffy and Faith are near to retrieving the Scythe, I think the focus of our research must change.”

 

There were a few groans from around the room.

 

Willow looked at the faces of the people scattered amid the books. Anya and Dawn looked ready (if not willing) to continue. However, Dawn’s eyes jumped continually from her text to the window. The younger girl’s concentration wasn’t going to be on information; it would be on Faith.

 

The few Potentials seemed to vibrate in place, caged energy waiting to explode.

 

“Can we pare down the study group, though?” Pointing to the Potentials, Willow didn’t pull her punches. “They need to do something violent. Let’s round up the other Watchers and get them to the Training Barn. Anya and Dawn can find Xander and start fixing dinner.” Taking a head count, Willow continued, “That leaves you, me, Fred, and Cordy.”

 

Before she had even finished speaking, the Potentials were on their feet.

 

“And just where, may I ask, do you think you are going?” Giles asked.

 

Feet shuffled and twelve pairs of eyes looked at the floor.

 

“Precisely. Kennedy, my dear, do go and find Lydia and ask her to join us for a moment.” Giles waited until Kennedy had sprinted from the room and then gestured at the remaining girls. “Until your escort arrives, sit down.” This time, there was a bite of command in Giles’ voice.

 

With a thud, the girls resumed their seats. Quiet muttering emanated from the huddle. 

 

Giles raised steely eyes at the sound. “Did someone have something to say about the arrangements?”

 

Biting back a grin at the tone in Giles’ voice, Willow watched to see if any of the girls would be brave enough to take him on. She was almost disappointed when the room fell silent. Oh, well. She’d have to get her excitement from the pages of a book.

 

CHAPTER 47

 

There wasn’t much excitement to be had, though. Willow shifted on the couch and stared at the faded print in the book on her lap. They’d been through most of the research material a dozen times in the last day. Not even prayer had turned up any new information.

 

“Giles,” she said slowly, “we aren’t going to find what we need in the books.”

 

Raising red-rimmed eyes, Giles gave her a tired smile. “I am beginning to fear not. Other than the briefest of descriptions on the First Evil, we have almost nothing useful.”

 

“I never thought I’d want the PtB to beam me a message.” Cordy stood and wandered to the patio doors. “For once, can we have an apocalypse where we actually have the information and the bad guys have to find a way to beat us? I mean, we’ve done this kind of thing way too many times.”

 

“If only it worked that way.” Giles leaned his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Willow, could you go over the dream you and Buffy shared one more time? Perhaps we are overlooking something.”

 

Biting back a protest, Willow nodded. “Sure, Giles.” Repeating the dream couldn’t be any worse than reading all the magical texts again. Eyes closed and voice a monotone mumble, she recounted the details: overflowing drink machine, Restfield and the Scythe, and the priest at the pulpit.

 

Fred was the first of the research team to say anything once she finished. “I’ve never heard about Slayer dreams,” she drawled quietly. “Does each part of the dream mean something, or is the Scythe it?”

 

Giles shifted uncomfortably, and Willow waited for him to break out the Watcherspeak. It didn’t take him long. “The Council records on Slayer dreams were never very complete, Ms. Burkle. However, I cannot recall a single instance of a dream like the one Buffy and Willow claimed to share. Perhaps Cordelia is more familiar with its like from her messages from the Powers that Be.”

 

“Sorry, Giles,” Cordelia was quick to answer. “I get head-splitting agony with my visions, not burger-flipping fun.” She glanced over at Willow. “If Fred’s right, though, we’ve only solved one piece of the puzzle. Who’s the priest? Why is he important? And,” Willow grimaced as Cordelia’s smile turned mocking, “why were Buffy and Willow working at the DMP?”

 

“That appears to be the least relevant bit of the dream.” Giles plucked a pencil and notepad from an end table. “Willow, let’s make note of any detail you can remember about the part in the church. Are you certain this fellow was a Catholic priest?”

 

Willow thought about that portion of the dream again. “He was performing a mass in Latin. An old mass, not like the ones I saw when I flipped channels on Sunday. He was doing everything in Latin, and he had on red robes.”

 

“Let’s concentrate on identifying anything which may be relative from this part of the dream. Who is our priest? Why that particular color of robe?” Giles scribbled notes as he spoke. “Do you recall what part of the mass he was performing?”

 

Unlike the other details, this part was very clear in Willow’s mind. “Yes,” she said excitedly. “He was apologizing.” Then she slumped back. “But I don’t remember for what. I just remember him repeating, ‘Mea culpa; mea culpa,’ as Buffy dragged me out. Then we woke up.”

 

He reached over and patted her knee. “Not to worry, my dear. I’m sure it will be enough. After all, we rarely have even this much to go on.”

 

“That’s the part of the mass where the priest is telling God and a whole bunch of other people that he accepts his sins,” Fred drawled shyly. “And the robe color is usually tied to a season or a feast.”

 

Everyone looked at her in surprise.

 

“You wouldn’t know which season is marked with a red robe, my dear?” Giles smiled hopefully.

 

Fred shook her head. “Sorry. It’s been a long time since summer Bible school.” Looking faintly embarrassed, she admitted, “Once I got into science, I didn’t spend a lot of time on religion.”

 

“Not to worry, Fred.” Patting her hands, Giles spent a few more minutes of note taking then he pointed his pencil at Cordelia and Fred. “Girls, perhaps you could start researching the possible significance of the robe? Perhaps it isn’t the mass itself that is important. Rather, it might be a time of year or a specific event in the church calendar. Willow and I will attempt to identify the priest…”

 

Dawn sprinted into the room, interrupting the rest of his assignments. “Will, there’s a bleeding woman at the door. She says her name’s Alex.”

 

***

 

Buffy slumped in the van, ignoring the subdued conversations going on around her. Willow wasn’t here. Willow wasn’t here and they were on their way to Sunnydale. When was the last time she’d headed off to fight evil without Willow next to her?

 

It took less than a second for Buffy to realize she’d only gone into battle without her good luck charm once. Remembering her days as Anne the Waitress didn’t exactly give her warm and fuzzy feelings.

 

“Hey, B. You with us, or did the Old Timer rattle your brain with that toss?” Faith’s voice interrupted Buffy’s trip into the past.

 

Raising her eyes, Buffy looked at Faith. The younger girl looked calm…until she spotted the slightly bouncing leg. Her Slayer woke with a sleepy growl. The Younger Sib was restless. “What’s the plan?” Buffy took a stab at the cause of Faith’s nerves.

 

Bull’s-eye. Faith jerked slightly and Buffy caught a faint pink tinge to her neck and the back of her ears. “Yeah. The plan.” Clearing her throat, Faith glanced at Angel and Wesley. “Me and the boys thought we might split up. You know, divide and conquer.”

 

Blushing and clichés. Giles would be so proud of Faith. Hiding a smirk, Buffy nodded. “Who goes where?” Unless Faith came apart entirely or (and Buffy didn’t think this was would ever happen) asked for help, Buffy was staying out of the command chair.

 

“That’s were things are fuzzy,” Faith admitted. Dimples popped out and then disappeared. “Fang thinks me and you should go hunt for the axe.”

 

She was missing something. Faith kept watching Angel and grinning. “Spill, Faith. What’s got you giggling?”

 

That got her an insulted look. “First off, I don’t giggle. It don’t fit with my image. I chuckle and or just laugh. No giggles.” Then Faith gave in. “Your girl scares the shit outta me, B. I don’t know if you’re worth risking that fireball ‘cause she’s jealous of me spending the night alone with you in a dark ceremony.”

 

Buffy smirked. “You might want to worry more about my sister. I remember she was the firestarter the last time we paired up.”

 

Faith’s laughter ended abruptly. “Fuck. I hadn’t thought about that.”

 

Too bad they didn’t have time to play. Buffy pushed the conversation back to business. “OK. We can brush up on our Chosen Two routine,” Buffy said. “Is the rest of the gang heading for the high school?” And Spike.  Buffy unconsciously clenched her hands.

 

Faith’s leg bounced even harder, rocking the van. “See, there’s where we have the problem, B.” Brown eyes pleaded with Buffy.

 

“Nope.” Hands palm out, Buffy refused. “I am not the referee. You’re in charge, Faith. Not me. I’m just here to put in enough time to get full retirement benefits. Tell me the plan,” she said bluntly. Faith had to learn to make decisions without looking to Buffy for confirmation.

 

Jaw tightening, Faith glared at her.

 

Buffy’s Slayer rumbled softly in warning, and Buffy rumbled not so softly back. If they were going to run off into the sunset with Willow, they had to let Faith play Alpha Slayer.  “Well? We aren’t exactly far from Sunnydale. I have discovered that plans work best if you make them before you get to the battle.”

 

***

 

“I think you and Fang should look for the Scythe,” Faith answered in a rush. She’d felt Buffy’s Slayer go on alert. Daring Buffy to disagree with her plan, she braced for a fight.

 

It was a severe letdown when Buffy simply said, “OK. That leaves you three witches, a semi-Slayer, a street fighter, and the scruffy Watcher guy to keep the gates of Hell closed. Decent odds.”

 

Faith tried not to stare at her in shock. Buffy must really be serious about retiring. Part of her mind danced in glee. No more playing Second Slayer. The other half, though, realized exactly what that meant. More being in charge. More making decisions. More giving rousing speeches.  That sober and serious part of her mind wanted to scream: What about Spike? What are you going to do if I have to kill him? She wasn’t quite brave (or stupid) enough to say it out loud. “That’s the plan, then,” Faith mumbled.

 

The rest of the trip passed in tense silence.

 

Buffy seemed lost in her own thoughts. Or, Faith imagined, in Willow’s. She really needed to ask Kirstan how to do that with Dawn. Maybe feeling Dawn in her head would get rid of the need to throw up as they got closer and closer to Sunnydale.

 

She peered over Angel’s shoulder and out the windshield. “You know. I can’t count how many times I’ve seen that fucking sign.” Pointing out the window, she drew the gang’s attention to the big “Welcome to Sunnydale” sign illuminated by the headlights.

 

Buffy chuckled. “I’ve seen it a few, too. Don’t you just love the cold, cramping chill of fear you get every time?”

 

“It d-does have that effect, doesn’t it?” Faith looked up to see Tara smiling crookedly at them. “May-maybe it will be different once there are no d-demons and other th-things waiting to kill us.”

 

A snort sounded from the front of the van. “You kids are a strange bunch. Do you always prepare for a fight with a stand up routine?”

 

Faith looked at a grinning Buffy and Tara. “Yep. Ask your girl, Mama Red. Slayers don’t have time for job training. Me and B’re gonna go on the road once I’m ready to retire, too.”

 

Laughter filled the van.

 

“See? We’ll be rich and famous; no worries,” Faith assured Jennifer.

 

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” Jennifer responded. She fell silent as they drove through downtown. “Right now, I’m more concerned with what I’m not seeing. Is it always this quiet here?”

 

With a startled look at Buffy, Faith scrambled past Angel and Gunn. Downtown Sunnydale looked like a ghost town. “Fuck.” Sitting back on her heels, Faith said, “Pull the van over. SunnyD never had much of a nightlife, but this ain’t normal. That means the First’s probably already picked off the human part of the town.”

 

“You think this means it’s waiting for us?” Gunn asked. He sat up and pulled a loaded crossbow from a duffel on the floor.

 

“Maybe.” Faith chewed on her lip and forced herself to not look at Buffy for help. If the First was waiting, they didn’t stand a chance against a town full of demons, vampires, and the biggest, baddest evil of all time. Stomach burning, Faith considered their options. Or option… They had to have the Scythe. They had to keep the Hellmouth from opening.

 

“B, you and Angel haul ass to Restfield. Get the axe.” She met Buffy’s eyes and saw support and grim determination there. “If we ain’t sitting at the gates when you’re done, we need you at the school.”

 

A short nod answered her terse comment. “I’ll keep Angel from looking up old friends,” Buffy joked as she grabbed the handle and opened the sliding door. “Do me a favor, though, Faith.”

 

“What’s that, B?” Faith prayed it wasn’t a request to keep Spike alive.

 

“Remember Rule Number One.” Buffy leapt from the van with Angel at her heels. “I don’t want to have to tell Dawn any bad news.”

 

CHAPTER 48

 

“What’s Rule Number One?” Jennifer asked as she met Faith’s eyes in the rearview mirror.

 

Faith looked away and slammed the sliding door closed before answering. “I ain’t never read the Scooby Handbook, but I think that one’s: don’t die.” Dropping back to the floor of the van, she said, “Think we all need to keep that one in mind. No way am I telling Red and D that one of the family got hurt.” There wouldn’t enough left of her to bother scattering in the wind.

 

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jennifer reach out and grasp Kirsten’s hand. Drew looked pale in the shadowed interior of the van. It was crunch time, and the cracks were beginning to show in everyone’s composure.

 

The thrill Faith normally felt going into a fight faltered at those little signs. Everyone in the van… Hell, everyone back at the ranch, was depending on her to keep the Hellmouth closed and to bring them all home in one piece. Her chest felt tight, and it got hard to breathe.

 

“Perhaps you and I should leave the rest of the crew here, then.” Wesley grinned puckishly, breaking the mood. “After all, we are the only ones in this particular group who never gained family status.”

 

The moment of panic passed. Responding to Wesley’s joke, Faith said, “You got a point there, Wes.”  Then she ducked as Tara tossed a stake at her head. This was better. This was more what she remembered from her brief time with the Scoobies. Fear mixed with fun. It sure beat the terrified looks and pale faces they’d been sporting a minute ago.

 

Blue eyes narrowed, Tara said softly, “If you aren’t c-careful, you’ll fi-find out Willow isn’t the only p-powerful witch.”

 

“Willow’s really scary,” Drew chimed in. “But I’m sure Mama and I can make things really interesting for you, too, Faith.”

 

Faith raised her hands in surrender. “Whoa! Take a step back. Ain’t no call to get all witchy. Me and Wes’ll stay with the group.” When she was sure no more items would come flying her way, she lowered her hands. “Now that B and Angel are gone, let’s get down to business.” Restraining a disbelieving eye roll, she mumbled, “We need a plan.”

 

“What did you have in mind?” Kirsten asked immediately. She turned in her seat so she faced the crew in the back of the van.

 

“Uh…” Faith floundered. She hadn’t expected the swift response. This was where Buffy normally took over. Then Faith remembered – not only wasn’t Buffy here at the moment, Buffy wasn’t going to be around at all once the First was gone. Thinking quickly, she added, “We need a way into the basement, and we need to decide what to do when we get there.”

 

Wesley’s hand waved in the air. “I can get us to the Seal. I believe I’m the only one with knowledge of the old high school.”

 

No one disagreed.

 

“Wicked. So we take the First by surprise,” Faith said, hoping that was the case. “Where do we go from there? T? Jenny? What kinda mojo are we interrupting?”

 

“We don’t know.” Jennifer shrugged defensively at Faith’s look of disbelief. “There was nothing in our library or Mr. Giles’ collection describing the ritual.”

 

That wasn’t what Faith wanted to hear. Mind blank, she stared at Jennifer. What were they supposed to do now? The van seemed to shrink and close in on her. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t…

 

Wesley sat up, legs crossed Indian style. “That isn’t quite accurate.”

 

The walls expanded slightly, and Faith dragged her eyes from Jennifer to look at Wesley.

 

 “From Cordelia and Willow’s visions,” he continued, “we do know that the First is sacrificing Spike in order to open the Seal. I would expect him to have Bringers there to ensure the ritual’s completion as well,” he said calmly

 

The van was definitely too small and way too hot. Breathing labored, Faith wiped sweat from her face. Damn it. Why couldn’t they ever have enough information? “So we don’t know how many of the blind boys will be there.” Faith looked longingly at the door for a second. It promised fresh air and freedom. With Herculean effort, she turned back to her crew. “We’re gonna be as blind as the bad guys and way the fuck outnumbered, Wes,” Faith said in frustration.

 

“You’re missing the point, little girl.” Kirsten sounded impatient. “Numbers would be nice, but we don’t have to have them. We go in expecting trouble. That’s it.”

 

It wasn’t enough, Faith wanted to scream. People’s lives depended on her decisions. None of that came out, though. No matter how much Faith didn’t like it, Kirsten was right. It wasn’t like they ever had all the facts before a big fight. She needed to deal with it and move on. “Fair enough,” she said shortly, not wasting time with an argument. “Get us closer to the school, Jenny. Not the parking lot.” She got more confident as she talked, and the others responded by sitting straighter and looking less terrified. “Maybe a block away, in case the First has lookouts. Then, Wes, get us in.”

 

He nodded resolutely.

 

“Me and you’ll take point once we get inside, Old Timer. We’ll keep the witches and Little Red in the middle and Wes and Gunn can bring up the rear.” It sounded too simple. As Jennifer drove them though Sunnydale, Faith wondered what she’d missed.

 

“And Spike?” Kirsten’s question answered Faith’s musings. She’d forgotten Spike. “Is he a target or is this a rescue mission?”

 

The doors looked even more tempting now. Almost feeling the handle in her grip, Faith forced herself to consider the problem Spike represented. “Spike ain’t a Scooby, even if he has given B a hand,” she said, avoiding a direct answer, but she saw understanding in the eyes around her. Whatever Buffy felt for Spike, they weren’t in Sunnydale to save him. “Keep your eyes on the prize, kiddies. The Seal stays closed.”

 

When the van stopped the next time, Faith opened the side door and hopped out.

 

In tense silence, the others followed her example.

 

Crossbows, stakes, knives, and swords were handed out with only a few metallic clinks.

 

“You’re on, Wes.” Faith made sure the stakes she’d jammed between her belt and her pants wouldn’t slip and waited for him to get moving.

 

“Right. This way.” He took off down the sidewalk before ducking into a darkened yard. Six shadows trailed in his wake.

 

***

 

Buffy and Angel sprinted through Sunnydale, sticking to the alleys and side streets. Their caution seemed almost unnecessary. Sunnydale might as well have been a ghost town. Nothing moved; not even a dog barked.

 

The eerie quiet of the city mixed with the silence between Buffy and Angel until she couldn’t take it anymore. This was worse than a nightmare – all the running, hunting…something, and waiting for an attack. She had to stay focused. This was no time to act like she was on her first patrol.

 

“So, you and Cordelia?” The inane question was all Buffy could think of.

 

From the way Angel raised an eyebrow and smirked, she should have given it more thought. “So, you and Willow?” he responded.

 

That did it. Despite the gravity of the situation, Buffy giggled.

 

Angel’s smirk became a smile. “Neither one of us ever did the expected, did we?” Reaching out, he gently squeezed her hand. “I’m glad. You look happy.”

 

Buffy gave him a droll look. “I look like Hell; don’t get all charming on me now, Angel.”  Squeezing back, she smiled. “Thanks, though. I am. Happy.” God, this was awkward. Even after the multitudes of goodbyes, and the promises to move on, Buffy struggled with the concept of Angel with anyone. “Cordelia seems happy, too.”

 

He didn’t take the bait for a second. Then the question came. “What about me? Don’t I look happy?”

 

“Nope.” Buffy let their hands separate and picked up the pace as she responded. “And you not looking happy - that’s a good thing. You and happy are a bad, bad combination.”

 

By the time she finished speaking, Buffy was running flat out; Angel was only a step or two behind as he gave chase.

 

Both of them skidded to an abrupt stop. “You feel it?” Buffy gasped out. Bending over, she fought against the cramping pain in her stomach as her Slayer senses went wild.

 

“We’ve got company.” Angel vamped out and sniffed the air. “Vampires only, though,” he lisped.

 

“Let’s hurry.” Buffy pulled the short sword from her belt. “I’m not up to teaching your country cousins any lessons tonight.” Ignoring the continued twisting in her stomach, she started running again. They were still several blocks away from Restfield. “Do you think they’re looking for us or just out for a drink?”

 

Easily matching her pace, Angel didn’t even hesitate before answering. “What are they going to feed on, Buffy?”

 

“Good point.” Suddenly, her legs felt leaden, and her chest ached. God, Buffy hated this. She hated running toward (and not away) from another fight. “Then let’s hope they don’t know where we’re going.” They needed some kind of edge – even if past experience said they weren’t going to get one.

 

Side by side, they streaked through Sunnydale. “Where’s the mausoleum?” If Angel had needed to breathe, he might have been panting.

 

Buffy wasn’t sure. She paused, searching the darkened cemetery for landmarks. They’d come in from Carson Street. Spinning to her right, Buffy spotted the stone angel with a sword guarding the Beecher family headstones. “This way.” She took off again, pushing herself to her limits.

 

They almost made it.

 

The first vampire blocked their path as the Aaronson Mausoleum came into view. “I’ve got this one. Keep going.” Angel took the lead. Not slowing, he ducked a punch and tackled his attacker to the ground.

 

Breathing ragged and fast, Buffy skirted the bodies grappling on the grass. She could feel the other vampires closing in.

 

“There! Get her!” The shout rang out in the shadowed silence of the cemetery.

 

The cramping increased. Fighting the pain and the burning in her lungs, Buffy took the last several strides to her goal. She didn’t have time to search for the Scythe, though. Back pressed to the cold stone wall of the mausoleum, Buffy raised her sword.

 

***

 

“What’s Alex…” Willow started to ask without thinking.

 

Dawn didn’t give her time to finish. Grabbing her by the arm, she dragged Willow out of the living room. “I don’t know what she’s doing here, Will. She knocked. I answered. Stopping the bleeding kind of took over from there.”

 

Trying not to trip over Dawn’s feet or bang into the wall, Willow stumbled along beside Dawn. They reached the kitchen in seconds. “Alex!” Dear Goddess.

 

Pale, battered, and bleeding, Alex sprawled a few feet inside the door. Anya knelt at her side, wringing pink-tinged water out of a washcloth into a basin near Alex’s head.

 

Willow dropped to the floor at Alex’s other side. “What happened?”

 

“R-ran into some guys on the way here,” Alex explained softly. Then she groaned and flinched as Anya cleaned blood from a deep cut on her arm.

 

A shadow fell across Willow’s shoulder. She looked up, and Xander silently held out a massive first-aid kit. She took it with a mouthed, “Thank you,” and set it on the ground. “Guys?” Willow didn’t believe that. Not with Alex’s condition. Demons were more likely. And if that was the case… Hands shaking, she dragged out bandages and shoved them at Anya.

 

“Couple of them,” Alex confirmed. “What’s going on, Willow? First Jennifer calls and says you’re too sick to go out. Then I see Morgan and Dorian tearing out of here with their cars loaded down.”

 

“Will?” Xander interrupted. “Should we see if those guys are still out there?”

 

The question got an immediate reaction from Alex. “Are you crazy?” She tried to sit up. Willow and Anya each grabbed a shoulder, pressing her back to the floor. “We can call the police or something.”

 

“Easy, Alex.” Willow felt the other girl tensing under her hand. “It’s OK. Xan, why don’t you have Giles make that call?” With her eyes, she tried to convey her real meaning to Xander.

 

It took a minute until his blank expression cleared. “Right.” Taking a step back, Xander gave a wide, fake smile. “Giles can…uh…call the police. See if they can find the guys that did this.” His tennis shoes squeaked on the tiles as he turned and ran out of the room.

 

“Let Anya clean you up, Alex.” Slowly climbing to her feet, Willow mumbled, “I’ll go hunt up something for you to wear.”

 

“Willow,” Anya whined. “I could use some help.”

 

Imitating Xander’s earlier smile, Willow reached out and grabbed Dawn’s hand as she backed away. “I’ll be right back. I promise.” As soon as she and Dawn cleared the threshold, Willow said, “We need to ward the house.  Now.”

 

 

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