Blood Letting
by Valyssia
Heroes and Victims
[reviews]
I must arm myself to fight you by making weapons out of my imperfections. It's all I have left. There's no other choice.
Buffy found herself alone again upon waking. This is getting old, she reflected as she rolled out of bed. Rushing to get dressed, she set off into the main part of the house. Making her way up to her trophy room, she retrieved the jacket she'd worn her first night home. Shutting the window and curtain at midday proved to be something of a challenge, but she steeled herself and just did it, recognizing that she'd just forget again if she didn't. Shaking off the minor burns with a well placed curse, she shut and locked the door behind her. Pocketing the keys, she set off for the library. Upon her arrival, she silently surveyed the scene, and asked, "How goes the plight?"
Looking up from the pile of books she was hiding behind at the large central table, Willow growled, "Lousy."
"That good? You'll have it by sundown," Buffy quipped, giving her witch a warm sunny smile.
"Everything I've read tells me it's impossible, Buffy," Willow replied frankly.
As she made her way across the room, Buffy spoke in a soothing tone, "Well, we know for a fact that's so not the case." Hanging the jacket on the back of a chair, she continued, "I'll call Mr. Kalderash and get him here. Until then—" Sliding in behind her witch, she started rubbing her shoulders. Silence fell between them as she worked to relieve some of the pent-up stress in her partner. Finally, she leaned in to give Willow a tender kiss on the neck. Using the opportunity to snag her coffee cup, she stole a sip. "There more of this?"
"Yeah... Our guests have been making themselves at home. Jonathan was here earlier to drop off groceries and stuff," Willow remarked dully as Buffy returned her cup and began to gently massage her shoulders again.
"That bother you?" Buffy asked, mistaking the change in tone.
Chuckling softly, Willow quickly responded, "Of course not. I think it's funny as hell."
"Quite the change," Buffy confirmed. Leaning around to make eye contact, she captured her witch in a brief, heartfelt kiss. "You should take a break," she whispered. Righting herself, she released Willow's shoulders, taking her coffee cup. "More?" she asked. Moving around to face her partner, she motioned to the cup.
"Hungry actually... Jonathan brought some blood from the butcher's shop; that'll be fine. Would you mind?" Willow said listlessly as she turned her attention back to the book in front of her.
Shrugging slightly, Buffy replied, "No, not at all. You sure, Will?"
"Yeah," Willow confirmed in the same bored tone.
"'Kay then. Gimme a few," Buffy replied, making her way purposefully to the kitchen. Taking in the smells of humanity, she entered the room smiling brightly. Bacon and eggs—been years, but I can almost recall the taste.
"Wow, look at you, B. Gettin' over the dominatrix complex?" Faith quipped curiously, taking in the jeans and white babydoll tee shirt the vampire was wearing.
Preoccupied by her musings, Buffy missed most of what the slayer said. Eventually drawn out of her reverie, she queried, "What?" as she opened the refrigerator. Looking over the contents, she found that all of the blood had been moved to the crisper drawers to make room for enough food to feed a family of four for a week. Retrieving a carton of butcher's shop blood, she couldn't help but make a face.
"Nothin'," Faith answered, taking in the look on the vampire's face. "Here, let me," she offered, taking the package of blood from Buffy.
Half-watching as the slayer poured the blood into a wineglass and set it into the microwave to warm, Buffy made herself a cup of coffee. "You seriously don't have to do that," she said, giving the slayer a perplexed look.
"It's cool, B.," Faith replied. Glancing over at the vampire, she couldn't help but notice the corded mass of scars the peeked out just below the hem of the short sleeved shirt. "Get into a fight?" she asked. Leaning with her back against the counter, she motioned vaguely and raised an eyebrow.
Sipping her coffee, Buffy turned to watch Amy make breakfast. Taking her time to answer in an aloof voice, she offered, "You could say that." Knew I was forgetting something—stupid jacket—so not having this conversation again.
Faith looked over the scarring for a moment. Not much that would cause that. In fact, only one thing comes to mind.
Motioning Faith out of the way, Buffy took the wineglass from the microwave, silently setting off out of the room.
"What was the about?" Amy asked in a hushed voice once the vampire had gone.
Moving over to stand close to the witch, Faith responded discretely, "Nothin' really. Just, someone beat the living hell outta her. Had to be pre-vamp..."
As she plated up the food, Amy commented pensively, "Well, that would explain a few things."
***********
Buffy entered the library and set the glass in front of her witch. "I'm sorry, Will," she offered, taking the seat next to her.
"Why sorry? It was my choice," Willow replied. Taking a sip, she made a face. "I may end up feeding on demons. This stuff is awful," she gasped, trying to control the urge to choke.
Slumping forward in her chair, Buffy produced a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket. Lighting one, she passed it to Willow. "I know... You don't smoke, but try it. Actually helps a little." Stretching as she rose, she made her way to the fireplace to fetch an ashtray for her disgusted witch. As she made her way back across the room, she commented, "Need to get ready to roll. I'm gonna use the phone. Meet me in our room in ten minutes. Get some jeans on; dress won't do today."
"Where we going?" Willow asked. Taking a tentative drag off the smoke, she chased it with a sip from the glass. Strong menthol does sorta cut the flavor of barnyard. I'll have to order more of these.
"To visit an old friend," Buffy offered, smiling wolfishly.
***********
Buffy poked her head up through the steel trapdoor in the basement of the Magic Box. Extracting her body, she offered a hand down to Willow, making room immediately after for Faith and Amy to join them. She led the group upstairs. Making eye contact with Giles as she entered the store, she instructed, "There'll be an old guy named Kalderash showing up here in a couple hours. With any luck, we'll be back by then, but if we aren't—" Reaching into the outer pocket of the backpack she carried, she passed the watcher a thick envelope.
After glancing at the contents of the envelope, Giles gave the vampire a questioning glare. "There must be—"
"Told him I'd give him five-grand plus expenses—give him a thousand down. He'll get the rest when he makes you and Will understand," Buffy confirmed in a dry voice. "Buying help—really not an issue." Crossing the room, she set the backpack down on the research table.
"What exactly are you girls up to?" Giles asked pensively.
Glancing around the store, Buffy met the watcher's gaze. "Nada... Just gonna go turn Rack into a cautionary tale for all the little boys and girls."
"You're doing what?" Amy gasped, appearing slightly frightened.
"You heard me, Amy. It's cool. I figure we hit him early to cut the customer factor. Plus—bonus—he really won't be expecting us," Buffy replied. Dumping the pack, she grinned and held up a bottle as the questions came in.
Faith came over to look. "Oh that's slick, B. SPF-70."
"Yeah... Still not a perfect fix," she offered. Beckoning her witch over, she began to apply the lotion to the skin not covered by her tee shirt and jeans. "It's good for maybe ten seconds, but it's enough to keep you from looking like a smoldering barbeque pit under the cloak." She held up a heavy red half length hooded cloak to show them. "Still end up looking like a bit of a freak but, in this town, who doesn't?" She passed off the suntan lotion, then took off her leather jacket and patiently waited for Willow to apply a liberal coating.
Faith tilted her head as if to say 'fair enough.' "Sounds like you got it figured. Little Red Riding Hood look's cute, B.," she offered, appearing amused.
"Been a vamp too long not to," Buffy replied matter-of-factly, ignoring the latter statement. Once her witch finished, she took the bottle, applying the lotion to her face and neck. "Can I use your phone, Giles?"
Willow slipped the ornate embroidered dark green cloak over her head. "Ren Faire score," she commented offhandedly, smiling brightly at the room. "Never thought I'd be using it for—" Watching Buffy pace with the phone in hand, she took a seat.
Growling almost silently to herself, Buffy hung up the phone. "'Kay so...guy that works for me—handyman type named Vinny—he'll be here in fifteen to weld up the trapdoor in the basement. When he gets here, Will and I are gonna bail."
Furrowing her brow, Faith queried, "And you want us?"
"To hang...don't want you in this," Buffy replied firmly. Donning her leather jacket again, she glared at the slayer who was staring at her breasts. "Do you mind?" she remarked, giving Faith a scathing glance.
Straining her eyes, Faith read the fine text on the vampire's tee shirt while she moved. Faith smirked as she commented, "I'm gonna have to steal that shirt." Raising an eyebrow, she shrugged off the mild embarrassment. 'Fuck is a dirty word.' So small you have to stare at her tits to read it.
Laughing at the slayer, Buffy flopped into a chair to wait. Meeting Willow's gaze, she winked, motioning discretely to Amy who looked utterly unimpressed. "Y'know, if we sold that video, you wouldn't have to think about stealing mine. Admittedly, total amateur night, but I'm sure we could get something for it," Buffy replied dryly, struggling to keep the amusement out of her voice.
A wave of dread washed over the slayer as she queried, "Video?"
"Yeah...you know you and Amy all—" Buffy winked at the slayer, "What, you think I don't have cameras in every room of my house?" she said, straining again to keep her tone neutral. Her composure finally cracked as she found herself flipping over backward in her chair. She took in the look of open hostility on Faith's face, and totally lost it. Curling into a ball on the floor, she started to laugh hysterically.
Willow amusedly scanned the room. Giles, who had been feverishly cleaning his glasses, now seemed to be trying to locate one of the lenses with Jonathan's assistance. Amy was about the color of a tomato and appeared completely mortified. It was Faith who really piqued her interest, though. The slayer was standing over her gasping partner looking completely livid. Buffy was too wrapped up in laughing her immortal ass off to even see the danger.
Peering up at the slayer through watery eyes, Buffy gasped and choked as she tried to speak. "N-no cam-cameras," she stuttered thickly through her mirth. Taking a deep breath, she tried again, "There aren't any cameras, Faith." She got the sentence out only to fall apart again as she watched the slayer's face sag in disbelief.
"She's telling the truth, Faith." Willow grinned broadly when the slayer swung around to meet her gaze, "You think we'd give a shit or even want to know what twenty or so male vampires did in their rooms? Think about it and try not to get too grossed out," she remarked casually as she raised an eyebrow, keeping her tone indifferent with great effort. She chuckled for a moment before adding, "If you want to spank her, I'll totally understand, but would you mind waiting for me to get my camera first?" Winking as the entire room turned its attention to her, she finally succumbed to the shear hilarity of the situation.
***********
"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; courage to change the things I can; and wisdom to know the difference," Willow mumbled under her breath as she broke through the barrier into Rack's hideout.
Appearing slightly confused, Buffy asked, "Why—?" cutting off when she felt her witch clamp down on her hand.
Siphoning off her partner's power to the point just below unconsciousness, Willow cradled Buffy in her arms. Growling loudly at the two patrons that were lounging on the couch, she carried her sleeping love towards them, observing with indifference as they scrambled toward the exit. "I'm sorry, sweetie," she whispered as she laid Buffy gently onto the cushions. Stooping, she kissed her partner tenderly on the cheek. As she rose, she shed her cloak and draped it over the little blond vampire.
Hovering off the floor, Willow began to leech more power from her surroundings. The magick of Rack's dwelling had always been thick, dark, and plentiful; she feasted on it while she moved steadily toward the shabby wooden door. As she approached, the old door bowed in, finally splintering under the strain seconds before she passed through. Seizing Rack magically as he exchanged energy with a young girl she noticed when she glanced up. Same ol', same ol'... Bastard hasn't changed a lick, she reflected, noting the look of terror in the young girl's eyes as she fell. The witch intervened, guiding the girl gently to the couch while she rounded on Rack, snarling in a low feral manner.
Screaming as she fell, Ann looked at the thing that had burst into the room. It wasn't human, whatever it was—vampire, but not. Demon... Did I summon that? She lay on the couch trembling, afraid to move as she watched the raven-haired creature drift purposefully toward Rack, energy dancing around its slight feminine form. Her eyes grew wide when the creature turned its attention toward her. She was momentarily mesmerized by the inky-black eyes with golden irises that met hers. Snapping out of her fugue state when the creature snarled the word 'go' at her, Ann charged from the room, not looking back. Bursting into daylight, she ran until her legs gave out.
Willow moved to within inches of Rack, locking eyes with him. Tilting her head slightly as the warlock tried to speak, she cooed, "Naughty, naughty... We can't have that. Spoil my fun with your nasty tricks."
Rack gagged violently as his throat compressed. He looked desperately around for a way out. As he struggled, he felt his arms dislocate. Attempting to scream, he managed to make a few stifled choking noises.
"Reveal your secrets to me," Willow commanded in a delicate voice. Pressing her will against the warlock's mind, she forced it open. Raping his psyche, she left no secret unturned. When she had finished collecting the information they needed, she sunk her fangs into his neck. Partially draining him, she stopped to whisper into his ear, "You taste like shit." Forcing herself to conclude the meal, she made her way to the back office, retrieving the book. Glad to get this back. Glancing at the crumbled form of the evil warlock, she shook her head ruefully. The body appeared to be unraveling as she focused her intent, skin peeling from muscle, and muscle from bone. A grin passed over her cold chiseled features as the last of Rack faded into a thick black vapor.
Sinking back to ground level, she began to purge as much of the dark energy as possible. The floor under her began to quake while she struggled. Oh, great...figures this place wouldn't be stable without daddy. Bursting out of the room, she snatched up Buffy's limp form. Draping her over one shoulder, she tossed her cloak over her unconscious partner. Snatching up the book, she ran out into the harsh afternoon sun light. Scrambling for the shadows as her body began to smolder, she kicked open a warehouse door, and pressed inside just as the magickal explosion of the warlock's lair rippled the sides of the building.
That sucked, she reflected as she laid Buffy out on a low stack of pallets. Now what? Peering at her burned, trembling hands, she battled against herself to suppress the barrage of memories from the evil warlock. I'm useless like this, she concluded after a moment's reflection. Seizing the side of her neck with a quaking hand, she began to tear until she felt it dampen. After staring down momentarily at the sticky red fluid that coated her fingers, she picked Buffy up. Cradling her head, she drew her partner's mouth to the open wound, sensing her begin to reflexively drink. I need you, sweetie. Come back.
Dimly aware of her surroundings, Buffy wrapped her arms around her victim. Wrenching the slight body in her grasp, she drank deeply. Blinking furiously to clear her vision, she looked in disbelief at the red locks of her prey. "Willow," she whispered, pulling back to look. "Oh shit! Will, what—? What the hell were you thinking?" she spat. Gazing down at her partner's drawn face; she tried to work out what had happened and where they were. Noticing the book slip out of her witch's hands, she caught it before it fell to the floor. Unable to suppress a smile, she said matter-of-factly, "You're amazing, know that? Absolutely nuts, but amazing."
Bundling her witch tightly in the green cloak, Buffy tossed her over one shoulder. Still clutching the book, she made her way around the empty warehouse, searching for a sewer entrance. We're only a few blocks from the Magic Box unless Will carried me—no reason—we're still close. Pulling the hood of her cloak up to cover her face, she made set off for the closest exit.
After checking to make certain Willow was completely covered, Buffy inched out into the shadow of the building. As she left the shadow, she broke into a full run toward safety. The back alley entrance of the Magic Box was soon in view. She burst inside, then carefully placed Willow and the book on one of the mats in the training room.
Making her way up front, Buffy slipped into the bathroom. Shedding her cloak, she rushed to wash the blood off her face. When she emerged from the tiny bathroom, she motioned to Faith.
"Yeah, B.?" Faith said, moving quickly to the vampire's side.
Buffy fished into her pocket, pulling out a wad of cash, she asked, "Blood now, please?" trying to suppress any hint of command from her voice.
Scanning Buffy's face for some sign of what might be wrong; Faith was stunned to see the faintest traces of tears forming. Vampires can't cry, can they? Blinking to clear her vision, she responded, "On it," as she turned to run for the door.
Returning to the training room, Buffy cradled her witch in her arms. She was soon joined by Giles and Amy.
"What happened?" Amy asked, looking at the emaciated face of the other witch.
"I'd be happy to tell you if I had a clue. I just know things went black and when I came to—" Buffy replied mechanically, trying to press down the tears.
"And Faith—?" Giles asked pensively.
"Gone for blood," Buffy replied, cutting the watcher off.
Sitting on the floor next to Willow, Amy looked thoughtfully into her face. "Bet I know. Willow wouldn't just face Rack. Least, I don't think she would. She knows as well as I do... You don't just walk into a powerful warlock's home and ask them nicely...for anything. And you two, with the slight fire allergy."
"Slight?" Buffy half coughed, starting to snicker. "So that's... 'Kay makes sense. Now we just have to—"
"Nurse her back to health," Amy said, still staring at the other witch.
"I thought it was funny when she said the Serenity Prayer as we entered," Buffy offered, trying to suppress a smirk.
Amy laughed despite herself. "Talk about 'off the program.' Glad it wasn't me. She looks great considering."
Giles interjected, "I should say so. How long has it been?"
"Just a few days... I had her to do some really awful stuff in Faith's room in the hospital. I was stupid," Buffy offered fairly, appearing as close to embarrassed as a vampire can.
"Yes, quite right. I recall that now," Giles replied.
"You recall what exactly, Giles?" Buffy snapped, turning to glare at the watcher.
Taken aback by the sudden hostility, Giles sputtered a moment before answering. "Uh... Well, just a sense really. I knew she had done something—"
"You know what? This is stupid," Amy interjected heatedly, cutting off both warring parties. Pausing to consider how to put her idea into words, she made eye contact with Buffy. "Let go of her, please. Control her...don't let her kill me, okay?"
"Huh?" Buffy replied. Meeting Amy's gaze, she took in the look of determination. "Oh..." she gasped. "You sure—?"
"No, I want to," Amy confirmed. The witch's features darkened slightly as she added, "I need to."
"'Kay, well—this is gonna sound weird, but let me start 'cause I can make sure—no major arteries—nothing that would cause...badness," Buffy said in an earnest tone.
After Amy bared her neck and tilted her head to the side, Buffy pulled the witch's shirt back, cautiously biting into the muscle just below her neck. Releasing Amy when she winced, she helped guide Willow to the gently seeping wounds. "Solid muscle there... It'll heal a lot faster too," she commented dryly as Willow began to instinctively drink. She listened closely to the human heart, pulling her partner away the moment it labored. "Giles, can you get the first aid kit and something for her to eat?" Buffy directed. Laying the other witch down next to Willow, she forced the demon down, shifting her features back to the human mask.
Faith burst into the room holding a brown paper bag. "What the hell?" she snarled acidly, taking in the scene.
"She wanted it, Faith. Don't freak," Buffy replied, taking Willow into her arms.
Making her way over to Amy's side, Faith asked, "They gonna be okay?"
"I'll be fine. Don't be mad," Amy replied weakly, making eye contact with the slayer as she spoke.
Handing the bag off to Buffy, Faith then took Amy into her arms. "You're a silly girl, know that?" she remarked. Looking her partner over for injuries, she managed to find the four delicate punctures. "This your work, B.?"
"Who else? If we'd let Willow do it, she'd have intuitively gone straight for the jugular. As it is now, might be enough. I may be able to get her to drink the other stuff. She didn't take much, bit more than if Amy had given blood," Buffy remarked in an arid tone. Opening the bag, she pulled out one of the two pints of blood and carefully opened a small hole in the bottom with her teeth. Pinching the bag closed, she held it to her partner's mouth, using her fingers to control the flow until she saw that Willow was feeding automatically.
Faith took the first aid kit from Giles as he approached. She began to patiently tend to her witch's wounds.
Giles hovered over the scene for a moment or two, feeling quite useless. "It would appear you have things well in hand," he commented. Scanning the floor, he noticed a book, partially obscured by Willow's cloak. "What is this?" he asked pensively, reaching to retrieve the book.
"Slayer 101," Buffy remarked offhandedly. "Will had it with her. Must've taken it from Rack."
"My word," Giles exclaimed as he began to study the book.
"Told ya," Buffy replied.
"May I?" Giles asked, barely looking up from the book.
Shaking her head resignedly, Buffy said, "Sure, soon as you get some food for Amy."
"Jonathan will return shortly with something to eat. I'm afraid there was nothing here," Giles remarked aloofly, still rapidly turning the pages of the book.
"I may have to talk with you later about borrowing your minion, Giles. He's damned useful," Buffy quipped, smiling brightly. Flinching when Amy hit her, she let out a hushed, playful, "Ow."
***********
Taking a seat at the table in the retail area of the Magic Box, Willow sipped her mocha while she waited for the others to join her. She watched with mild interest as Giles concluded a sale to some batty-looking, elder witch.
Silently approaching from the training room, Buffy placed her hands on Willow's shoulders, beginning to gently massage them. "You gonna be okay?" she whispered in her witch's ear.
"Yeah... I think so. I'm so sorry, Buffy," Willow replied in a tearful voice.
"No big. Amy actually caught me up on the why," Buffy offered in the same restrained tone. Craning around her witch to make eye contact, she stressed, "Not mad, 'kay?"
Willow placed her coffee on the table in front of her. Seizing Buffy, she pulled her around, guiding her partner onto her lap. As Buffy came to rest, she captured her in a tender kiss. Perfectly comfortable with the attention they were drawing from around the room, she didn't release her hold until she heard Giles clear his throat.
"While this display is touching, to be certain, we do have some pressing matters to which we must attend," Giles remarked in a dry voice.
Looking up to meet the watcher's gaze, Buffy quipped, "Could you be a bit more British?"
Giles pulled up a chair across the table from the vampires. "To be certain; please dispense with the snogging in my place of business, ladies," he retorted snidely, closing the remark with a wink and a soft smile.
"So what's the sitch, Red?" Faith asked, pointedly attempting to steer the conversation.
Sipping her coffee, Willow offered a polite, "Thank you," to Jonathan.
"No problem," Jonathan replied as he dug into the box of pastries, inviting the others to do the same.
Buffy pulled a mocha from the carton of beverages and gratefully began to sip it as she watched the others. "So, Will?" she prompted.
"You're not gonna like it," Willow began. Cutting off to take a sip of coffee, she watched as the others grew impatient. "B&D, S&M, blood play—" Breaking off again, she hoped that neither Giles nor Jonathan would choke to death on their dougnuts. "These girls make my—well, they make me— I look like a teenager experimenting with sex."
Slightly red in the face from aspirating raspberry filling, Giles struggled to compose himself. Listening to the remainder of the witch's statement, he finally managed, "What does this have to do—?"
Willow cut the watcher short. "Couple of things, Giles... Firstly, the reason Rack was dragging his heels was 'cause he enjoyed the games. Secondly—and, Buffy, this is gonna piss you off—the games he seemed to enjoy most involved the potential," she stated as delicately as she could.
"Where?" Buffy snarled violently, trying to contain the urge to flip the table over.
"The mission," Willow replied sheepishly. "You won't like it, Buffy. I think you need to understand. Remember the story you told me?"
Meeting her witch's gaze, Buffy nodded. Gleaning everything she needed to know from the expression on Willow's face, she silently began to plan just how painful the end would be for these girls.
"I'm with, B.," Faith interjected quietly as she read the intent on the blonde vampire's face. One by one, she made eye contact with each person at the table, silently asking their approval. This just got personal. Sure the guys don't get it. Not givin' them any 'Cliff Notes' either but—like it or not, B.—I'm in.
"The leader's name is Kennedy. East Coast girl, well moneyed, lots of connections, and she's at least partially trained. There are three girls in the core group—same story on the training. Last Rack saw, they were alone with— Anyway, we must've taken care of the others." Sighing deeply, Willow concluded, "I just hope the little Asian chick is chained to the altar again 'cause she's entirely too good with a sword for my comfort." Watching Giles choke, she offered guiltily, "Sorry, Giles," Jeeze...repressed much? I wonder if he got laid in his early twenties 'cause for most of us it's more than a hobby.
Have these Americans no sense of propriety? Recovering from the brashness of the Willow's commentary, Giles began in low careful tone, "Unfortunately, I have heard of this girl through the council. You see, after what occurred with—" He stopped short, simply nodding in Buffy's direction to indicate his meaning. "The council saw fit to choose the five most likely candidates, sending them each a Watcher to begin their training and, of course, to look after—" Again finding himself unable to conclude the thought, he sighed deeply before pressing on. "You have my deepest regrets, Buffy." As he finished his speech Giles found himself completely unable to maintain eye contact with the vampire. The cold indifference coupled with rage sent a chill down his spine as he cast his gaze to his hands.
"Alright... So, we're all agreed then? At sundown?" Faith stated simply in closing. Need to break this up before it breaks down. Gonna happen wicked fast if someone doesn't—
Glancing at the determined faces around the table, Buffy directed in a firm voice, "Can't let ya."
"Can't stop me, B.," Faith replied arrogantly.
"Can't stop us all," Jonathan concurred. "Not without hurting us."
"Hold up," Willow cut in, "Amy, you remember the last time? Did you notice what I was doing?"
Turning to meet the other witch's gaze, Amy answered honestly, "Yeah, sort of."
"'Kay, well... Grab your least favorite pastry and come to the training room with me. We're gonna learn some new tricks," Willow offered. Rising from her chair, she led Amy away from the group.
"Faith," Buffy said, offering the slayer a hand, "Come on...same story."
***********
"Yes, Mr. Kalderash, so good of you to come on such short notice. My name is Rupert Giles and this is Jonathan Levinson," Giles said, offering his hand to the strange man in a cordial greeting.
"Yeis, tank you," Mr. Kalderash replied, taking the hands offered to him. He presented Mr. Giles with a brown paper bag full of ingredients for the ritual, waiting expectantly for the money promised. "Where eis deis leetle blonde vampire?" he asked, hopeful that his payment would come from her.
Giles placed the crumpled bag on the research table. Moving behind the counter, he opened the drawer hidden beneath the cash register. Extracting the envelope Buffy had given him, he carefully counted out one-thousand dollars. Making his way back to the shabby looking man, he offered the expected moneys. "Jonathan, if you would, please fetch Willow for us," he asked politely. While Jonathan made his way to the training room, Giles led Mr. Kalderash to the table, gesturing for him to be seated.
Emerging with Amy on her heels, Willow made her way to the table. Immediately rummaging through the contents of the bag, she began a rough inventory, "One Thesulan Orb." Pulling the cloudy crystal sphere out, she placed it on the table. "Pretty useless without the spell, but I hear they make great paperweights." Next, she produced a handful of different herbs. "Rosemary: good for seasoning lamb and improving memory," she remarked offhandedly as she pointed, casting the herbs aside. Turning the bag upside down, she shook it, finally yielding the thing she actually cared about. Taking a seat, she read the spell, frowning and furrowing her brow incredulously.
Entering the room, Buffy commented, "Stop dropping your left, Faith or I'll own you every time." Standing off to the side, she watched as Willow read the scrap of paper, trying to understand why her witch appeared to be getting progressively more upset as the seconds ticked by. "Hey, Faith; he ever paint your toenails?" she asked, gesturing to Jonathan.
"Wha—huh?" Faith stumbled, appearing completely stunned by the question.
Meeting Jonathan's gaze as he turned to give her a horrified look, Buffy commented, "It's just, I used to have a minion—" cutting off as Jonathan exploded.
"I am not a minion!"
Mistakenly taking a sip of coffee, Faith registered what Jonathan said. It took every ounce of will power she possessed to recover with any dignity.
Giles did his utmost to remain British, but found the task entirely too difficult, finally succumbing to the giggles.
Mr. Kalderash glanced from face to face, wondering what he'd walked into. Finally resting his gaze on Giles, he appeared completely perplexed.
Chuckling softly, Amy walked over and kicked the snarky little blonde vampire lightly in the shin. Then, smiling sweetly, she clung to Faith's side.
Shocked out of her peels of laughter, Buffy gasped, "Ow," giving Amy a disbelieving glare.
Suddenly Willow shot out of her chair. Still scanning the paper in disbelief, she picked up the Orb of Thesulah and whipped it at the floor. The orb shattered into millions of tiny shards as she spat, "This is a fucking prayer!" Trying to contain the urge to rip the paper into pieces, she read, "Te implor, Doamne, nu ignora aceasta rugaminte."
Giles automatically translated for the room, "I implore you, Lord, do not ignore this request." Taking a deep breath, he asked as good-naturedly as possible, "What seems to be the trouble, Willow?"
Pacing as she fumed, Willow growled, "There are no magical principles to understand. It's impossible without the direct intervention of—" she pointed up, "And, since the frog incident, we haven't exactly been on speaking terms. Besides, in case you missed it...vampire now," she huffed.
Stepping bravely into Willow's path, Buffy cautiously asked, "What frog incident, sweetie?" That's my girl. All kinds of the sanity that's not. She has a crisis of faith and it involves frogs.
"Th-th-the fr-frog in-in—" Willow stuttered as a look of disgust set firmly on her face, "in m-my be-bed in—" she coughed, "at summer camp," she spat the last fragment of the sentence out like a curse. Shoving the paper into Buffy's hands, she stormed out of the room.
Raising an eyebrow, Buffy sighed, "Uh boy," as she watched her witch leave. Shrugging at the rest of the room, she passed the paper to Giles and followed. "Where the redhead goes," she mumbled by way of an apology.
Composing himself, Giles offered, "You'll pardon us. Since the meeting of our two houses, it would seem that there's never a dull moment." Rising from his seat, he added, "Willow is correct. This does appear to have all the earmarks of a prayer."
"Yeis, eit eis how ve do tings, my people," Mr. Kalderash replied frankly.
Giles made his way behind the counter and removed the envelope. Carefully counting out the money, he handed the agreed sum to the elder gypsy. "Yes well, we do thank you for making the drive." He watched in amusement as Jonathan made his way up the stairs with a broom and dustpan. The most interesting—dare I think—entertaining part of this is that both of our vampires are quite correct in their assumptions. Perhaps a bit annoying how accurate.
"So, what's the deal with Red?" Faith asked Amy discretely as the commotion died down. Noticing that Jonathan appeared a bit jumpy, she pressed, "Amy?"
"Oh, nothing..." Amy whispered. "It's just that the frog thing— It wasn't God; it was Jonathan, and this kid named Tucker Wells."
Faith's eyebrows threatened to disappear into her hairline. "Oh shit," she coughed. Turning red in the face from suppressed laughter, she shot a sideways glance at Jonathan who seemed to be doing his best to stay busy and look innocent.
It appeared amusement might overcome the witch's features as she replied, "Yeah... Really screwed her up... See, she rolled over on it in her sleep. Frog guts everywhere."
"Glad it wasn't me. Who'da figured Red'd turn out—" Faith offered in a hushed dry voice.
"Yeah," Amy intoned gravely, giving Jonathan a sympathetic glance. "I'd be scared too."
***********
Watching with mild interest as Jonathan put the license plate on the front of her car; Buffy couldn't help but comment, "You know you don't have to do that, right, Jonathan?" We're set. Will even had time to fix the paperwork on this thing.
"I know. It just makes me crazy not to be doing something when—" Jonathan replied frankly.
"'Kay. Suit yourself," Buffy replied, restraining herself from further commentary. He's a damn fine minion. When the remainder of the group exited the mansion to join them, she propped herself casually on the front fender of the Trans Am. "If you guys insist on joining, you're gonna follow my lead. 'Kay?" Taking in the nods, she continued, "Giles and Jonathan, all I want from you is get the potential to the hospital. Get her and get out. No heroics, Jonathan. And no getting knocked out, Giles," she said, unable to keep the amused tone from her voice as she concluded the statement. "The rest of you," she winked at Faith, "we're going for just enough kill. No mercy."
Making her way to the driver's side of the TA, Faith opened the door and pulled the driver's seat forward. Slipping into the rear seat, she commented, "You'll get no arguments here, B." When Amy joined her, she clasped her witch's hand. "You and Red get it figured?" she whispered as the others joined them.
Amy simply nodded in response.
Giles made his way to his Citro'n. Piling the blankets he'd retrieved from the house into the rear seat, he waited patiently for Jonathan to join him with a heavy pair of bolt cutters. "I hope that those will be sufficient," he remarked thoughtfully as he turned the ignition.
"Willow told me padlocks. We're good," Jonathan offered with certainty.
Following the red Trans Am onto the highway, Giles set pace with the other car, working to suppress the anxiety that filled him over what he might be forced to witness.
"It'll be fine, Giles," Jonathan offered intuitively.
"I'm not sure you fully understand," Giles replied.
"You're probably right, but I do know one thing: whatever happens, we'll face it together. And after, we'll help each other deal with the consequences. That's what we do," Jonathan responded in a reserved pensive tone.
"And the vampires?" Giles asked fairly.
Glancing over at the watcher, Jonathan tried to assess his mood. God, Buffy's right... Could he be more British? It's like someone starched his face. "If you mean Buffy and Willow, they're part of the 'together' now."
Speaking in a subdued meditative voice, Giles recited, "For what is a man profited, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own soul? Or what shall a man give in exchange for his soul?"
"That's beautiful. What is it?" Jonathan asked as he mulled over the words.
A gentle smile washed over Giles' features as he admitted, "It's a Biblical verse from the book of Matthew, chapter 16, verse 26, King James translation, and frankly, of the many references I've studied, it seems to fit this circumstance the best. It would appear that, first by force, later by choice, Buffy has forsaken her lust for conquest in lieu of a desire to experience her humanity."
"Never had you figured for a Bible thumper, Giles," Jonathan remarked wryly.
"Oh perish the thought. Philosophy, on the whole, has always fascinated me. I would be remiss were I to shun one school of thought simply because the mighty C of E... That is to say—" Giles offered, pausing to allow Jonathan to speak.
"It's cool, Giles. Got it. They're wankers," Jonathan replied. Chuckling softly, he amended, "There's wisdom everywhere, even if most people choose to ignore it."
"Couldn't have put it better myself," Giles said matter-of-factly. A warm smile played at his face as he parked the car behind Buffy's in the driveway of the mission. "Right, so shall we go play hero?"
"Absolutely," Jonathan confirmed in a cheery tone.
After making their way silently through the ancient cemetery in front of the mission, the group came to a halt in front of the massive double doors.
Throwing the doors open, Buffy briefly scanned the room. Her gaze fell on the slender, naked young girl who hung limply in one corner of the room, shackled to the ceiling. As she took in the scene, her old friend, rage, returned, comfortable and warm. Her eyes shifted from cold, empty, and steely blue to ruddy amber as the demon settled in for a visit. She motioned for Giles and Jonathan to go. Charging into the large open space, her attention turned to a scene in the opposite corner that almost caused her to giggle. It looked like something out of Caligula. Large pillows, blankets, and curtains covered the corner. In the center of this stage lay a nude, young woman with long, dark hair who was being served by her minions.
Kennedy looked up to meet the intruder's gaze. She tried to push the others aside before Buffy got to her; instead, she found herself being slung out of bed by her hair. Crashing into the altar, she worked to right herself before the blonde vampire closed in on her. It's her...from the visions...the one who made—who caused—
Seeing the Asian slayer-vampire move swiftly across the room, Willow commanded, "Now." Gripping Amy's hand, she focused her intent on her victim's body. As the other witch added to her efforts, their target slowed, finally drawing to a sluggish halt as her carcass desiccated. Blinking, Willow couldn't keep from smiling at the results; in place of the vampire was a perfect ashen sculpture of her form, captured mid-stride. A breeze gusted in through the open doors disturbing the results of their craft. She watched as the flesh peeled away as if in layers of delicate gray leaf. The air current caught the pieces of ash blowing them like fragments of newsprint, stripping away the tissue until all that remained was a charred skeleton. Another gust of wind caused the skeleton to topple. As it hit the stone floor it was reduced to a fine powder that was quickly swept away by the wind.
That was nifty, Willow reflected, turning her intent to the African-American slayer-vampire who was now on the move. "Just a little more, Amy," she whispered. Gently focusing on the second target, she instructed, "Faith and Buffy both need this. Just slow her down enough to be an even match."
A smile was fixed on Amy's face as she saw Faith start to pound on the dark-skinned vampire. She glanced over to check on Buffy, seeing the blonde gracefully flow with the fight. Weaving and dodging, taking advantage of the weaknesses in her opponent's combat style, every move was precise—as if she were planning three steps in advance. It was like observing a ballet. Turning back to Faith, she was noted that her slayer looked like a street brawler by comparison. Her blows were vicious and almost, she considered, unrefined.
Approaching the battered form of the young potential, it was all Giles could do not to look away. Never in his life had he seen someone so badly mistreated. She was unclothed, but it was difficult to make that fact out for all the dried blood and filth that covered her emaciated form. He watched as Jonathan stooped with the bolt cutters, snipping away the first lock holding the shackle closed on her right ankle.
"Giles, don't lose it on me now," Jonathan directed harshly, trying to snap the watcher out of his stupor.
"Right... It appears her shoulders are both dislocated," Giles observed, reaching up instinctively to check for a pulse at her throat. "She's alive," he offered. Removing his belt, he laid it out flat on the floor. Unfolding a heavy, feather comforter, he spread it out on top of the belt. "Once we have her. We need to carefully move her here and use the belt to bind her arms tightly to her sides, else the injuries—"
"Okay, I'm going to cut her first arm free; you support her weight while I get the other," Jonathan directed, reaching up to cut the third lock.
"I don't envy them," Amy noted, turning her attention to Giles and Jonathan.
Splitting her awareness between slowing the dark-skinned slayer-vampire and the struggles of their male counterparts, Willow instructed, "Yeah... Go help, please. You might be able to give a magic assist and— I got this."
Amy rushed quickly through the chaos in the room. Gently taking hold of the girl by magick, she supported her form. "Got it, Giles. Let go," she said in a hushed tone.
Giles stepped aside. Glancing out to the center of the room, he watched Buffy leap into a graceful, spinning kick. A smile played at his lips as the little blonde vampire landed gracefully in a crouch, one leg extended back, while her prey crashed into a wall. Figure skating, nearly textbook... The records we have say she was obsessed with the sport. Curious that she's incorporated it into her combat technique. Though, unlike what she mimics, I strongly doubt that a professional athlete could leap the height of an average adult from a standstill and kick them in the face. Beautiful really... She's toying with her, like a great cat. Turning his attention back to the matter at hand, he observed as the girl was gently lowered by magic onto the makeshift bed.
Stooping on either side, Amy and Jonathan worked together to bind the girl into a snug package, both yielding their belts to the task. Once finished, the party began to make their way to Giles car.
Amy used the remainder of her power to levitate the unconscious young woman out of the building and down the hill. By the time they arrived, she was ready to be carried herself. Leaning against the car, she took a deep breath. "I'll see you guys back at the mansion," she offered, resolutely setting off up the drive.
***********
Gazing down at Kennedy's beaten form, Buffy seized her leg. Pulling her away from the wall by one heel, she brought her foot down on the vampire's pubic bone, shattering her hips.
Kennedy reflexively doubled over, crying out in anguish as the blow reduced her groin to a bloody pulp.
"Hold that thought," Buffy snarled. Making her way across the room, she couldn't resist sweeping the feet out from under the dark-skinned slayer-vamp as Faith delivered a solid right hook. As the vampire crumpled, she caught the slayer who was thrown off by her intervention. "Nice one, Faith," she snarked, continuing on her path to retrieve the Asian vampire's sword.
Faith shot Buffy a scathing glance while kicking her vampire opponent with all her might in the ribs. The snapping sound caused her to break into a wolfish grin. Her next blow crushed the vampire's knee. She's not going anywhere. Scanning the room, her eyes fell on the scythe resting in a remote area behind the altar. She made her way purposefully to retrieve it.
As she moved, she saw Buffy bury a katana almost to the hilt in Kennedy's chest. She's not going anywhere either. Jeeze, B., vicious much? Steel too and right through the heart. You know that has to smart a bit. Picking up the pace, she grabbed the scythe. Don't think I wanna watch that.
Returning to her victim just as she was beginning to heal enough to move, Faith chose to end it. Burying the stake in the vampire's chest, she watched her combust. Satisfied that her part of the agreement had been fulfilled, she made her way back to the door just in time to greet Amy. Guiding her partner back out the door, she offered, "Don't think either of us wants to be around for this."
"Huh?" Amy gasped, appearing confused.
Supporting her weary partner, Faith said in a firm voice, "Just trust me. Back to the car with you."
Willow absently watched the slayer and her witch depart the scene. Turning her attention to Buffy, she crossed the room. Still in a blood-lust inspired rage, her partner continued to assault the broken body of the other vampire. "Buffy?" she said tentatively.
Concentrating on inflicting as much pain as she possible, Buffy pulverized Kennedy's hand under her boot. Her victim screamed in agony. She's gotta be getting close to passing out. I may have to wait. By the time she comes to, her body will have healed and we'll have to start over. That part really sucks. Wish you could just keep them conscious.
Placing her hand on Buffy's shoulder, Willow stepped back quickly when her partner swung around. Putting her hands up, she met the look of cold malice, steeling her resolve to not avert her eyes. "Buffy sweetie, please," she pleaded.
A low feral growl emitted from Buffy at the interruption. Swiftly turning her attention back to Kennedy, she kicked an open wound into the chest of her prey. Listening to the screams weaken as her victim slipped away.
"What's the point, Buffy?" Willow begged.
"You don't understand, Will. Now fuck off," Buffy spat malevolently. Moving around to the other side of her prey, she crushed the second hand. Kennedy lay silent. Shit! Now the wait.
Following Buffy, Willow seized her around the chest from behind. Capturing her arms, she held on as Buffy tried to cast her off. "I don't understand? What, wanting revenge? That you see something of Darla in this woman? What exactly is it you think I don't understand? You think torturing her is somehow going give you back some of what you lost?"
Buffy stumbled, bringing them both to their knees as Willow spoke to her in a soft patient voice.
"Torture just makes you like them, Buffy," Willow offered frankly.
Peering down at her unconscious victim, Buffy reached out and seized her head, twisting until Kennedy fell to ash. As Willow loosened her grip, Buffy broke down.
Willow fixed her gaze on the bloody sword that remained buried in the floor. Cradling her partner, she rocked her gently as she wept.