Sapphic Voices Fan Fiction

 

 

Switcheroony

Part Seven

by Alicorn
Contact The Writer
Copyright © by Alicorn, November 2005

 


Rating: NC17

Disclaimer: They’re not mine, I wish they were, but I know they’re not and nobody gets anything for writing or posting, except Wiffy goodness.

Feedback: Yes, please.

Authoress' Notes: After a brief relationship with Willow, Tara dropped out of college and went back to her family, so Willow is Out to the Scoobies. Buffy & Willow sharing a College Dorm room. Giles & Anya (ex-demon & Xander’s girlfriend) run the Magic Box. Faith is post coma.

Credits: Beta, translation into American and editing by Lilly.


Chapter 29

Giles recalled watching the sun setting as they had waited for the cab to take them to Xander’s apartment. Despite being sure that a slayer would be of better use out there, he hadn’t wanted to let Faith out of his sight just yet. However, merely an hour later, sitting here debating how to approach their problem and waiting for Wesley to call back, Giles found that he was now questioning his very own motives.

Cordelia’s description of the vision and Faith’s recollection of the man that had sold her the curse matched everything they had seen in their joined visions or had subsequently surmised. Nothing remained to make him doubt that Cordelia and Faith’s motives were honest and well meaning, although they may have been a little extreme in their actions.

“Whilst I can understand your hesitation at asking Angel for help, we do have Faith; and another slayer could prove to be beneficial in the long run. I know that you’ve had some training, Willow. But your powers are borrowed. A fully-trained and experienced slayer may be just what we need to get Buffy back safely,” he explained, responding to Willow’s insistence that they wouldn’t need any help from LA.

“Count me in,” Faith responded quickly, before turning to Willow and adding a little more quietly, “If that’s okay with Red?”

Willow ignored her offer and turned to Giles. “I’ve been thinking about that. I know I’m not a … a real slayer but I am a real witch. There must be some way of using my other abilities. I mean … wasn’t the original Slayer brought about by the use of magics?”

“Yes. There was an element of magic involved but I don’t see how … Oh, you mean that within the slayer powers there may be reside enough residual magic ability to allow you to channel a spell! Interesting. Although I’m not sure if this far down the line … Well, it’s certainly worth investigating,” Giles concluded, clearly impressed by Willow’s theory.

* * * *

The folder was titled Special Projects Division but try as he might, Wesley couldn’t get the file to open. He’d tried every hacking code Willow had ever passed on to Cordy. In desperation he had tried typing in Wolf, Ram & Hart in Hebrew, Latin and even ancient Babylonian to no avail. “Damn it.” He tried to download the file unopened but it just wouldn’t copy.

“Wesley! We need to be leaving,” Angel pointed out, glancing through the crack in the door. Breaking in had been just a little too easy and he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling they were being watched.

“I know, but there’s something good here. I just can’t seem get to at it,” the former watcher whined in frustration.

“We’ll take what we’ve got. It’s time to go,” Angel declared as he saw a guard once again turn into their corridor, check a couple of doors and then turn back long before reaching theirs. He knew there was a stairwell at the end of this corridor and that it just didn’t make sense to only check the first few doors. Something stank and he wanted out. “Now!” he insisted, watching the guard turn left and out of his sight.

“Okay, okay,” Wesley replied, his hand catching the floppy disk as it ejected and placing it into his inner jacket pocket. “I’m done.”

* * * *

Anya pushed open the apartment door with bravado and made her entrance in anticipation of the guilt from Xander and the others, and many hours of sex that she was sure her news would bring. As every head turned her way she smiled. Attention was good. She’d missed it. But the silence she encountered was irritating. “Does no one wish to hear how I have saved the day and praise me for yet another valuable contribution to this dysfunctional romance?” she asked.

“Anya!” Xander exclaimed moving towards her. “Are you okay?”

“Like you care,” she spat. “You let me walk into a slaughter. Okay, not a real slaughter. Nobody does slaughter properly any more. Besides you’re still alive and there were no dead babies sitting on spikes,” Anya commented. Then her pitch rising as she recalled his behavior, she continued “But there you were risking your already wounded body, for her – again,” she said throwing Willow an accusing glare. “For both of them.”

Xander ignored the glare, knowing he didn’t want to open that can of worms again. “Okay, kinda losing me on the dead babies front, but I get it. Anya, I get it,” he assured her, realizing that he had scared her again. “I went looking for you, but you’d already taken the car,” he explained.

“I followed them to their poorly lit, badly sign-posted place of hiding and then I asked a truck driver for directions …”

“A truck driver?” Xander interrupted, raising an eyebrow in concern. “You followed a bunch of mercenaries, not knowing where they were going or if they’d seen you. And then you ask a complete stranger …” Xander ran out of words.

“He was very helpful,” Anya quietly explained, soothed by Xander’s concern.

“I’m sure he was but, Anya, he could have been working for them. How did you know he wasn’t part of the gang? He could have dragged you off and … Okay; we are so recapping the ‘not talking to strangers’ lesson.”

Irritated, Anya replied, “I have a brain you know. I can completely lie to the health inspector when I have to,” she said looking at Giles for support before turning back to Xander. “I distracted the truck driver with the untrue possibility I might provide him with sex. He was very accommodating. He seemed to have no problem realizing that I shouldn’t be left all alone,” she pointed out; hurt that Xander didn’t trust her judgment.

Watching Anya begin to throw back her shoulders and extend her chin, Giles interrupted, eager to prevent bloodshed. “Xander, I’m sure Anya was very careful and Anya, I’m sure we are all very thankful to you for putting yourself in such danger,” he stated, knowing that the ex-demon had probably just been very lucky. Throwing Xander a look that said ‘shut up, you’re only making it worse’ he proceeded “So where did they take her?”

“To a dingy old warehouse just off Lanning Street … near the docks,” Anya replied satisfied that someone realized how selfless her actions had been. “The sign said Aries Holdings but I don’t know how much use that will be. It looked disused to me. There was no night watchman and the framework seemed in serious need of repair. There were many holes and patched-up areas. I saw four more men greet them, but I have no idea how many more were inside.”

“Thank you Anya,” Giles said, feeling that maybe he had underestimated the ex-demon after all.

“My pleasure. Oh, I told Hank I was staying with my elderly uncle,” Anya absently advised Giles. “Please let him down gently when he calls. He said I was priceless.”

“And that you are,” Xander agreed, wide-eyed and not at all sure if or how Anya was still as naïve as she appeared.

Giles glared at her and, refusing to honor her comment regarding his age with a response, he changed the subject back their present concern. “It would appear that they are going to hold onto Buffy until after the lunar eclipse tomorrow night,” Giles pointed out. “We appear to be running out of time.”

* * * *

Buffy couldn’t believe that she was crying. She wasn’t even sure why but she had felt the welling and then the thin stream of tears as they began to run down her cheeks. Thankful that no one could see her, she let the tears fall. Visions of Willow hurt, scared and injured filled her mind. Was this the end? Was what they had, what they had shared all they would ever have? Was Willow now lost to her forever?

She recalled the sweet tenderness with which they had made love … oh and it had been making love. Of that she was now sure. Parker had shown her what just having sex was. And Willow had been nothing like him. There hadn’t been any false protestations or promises from Willow. Instead every touch and gesture had been genuine, gentle and full of honest emotion. She sighed as she recalled how safe and cared for Willow had made her feel.

‘Was that how it had been between Willow and Tara,’ Buffy wondered. What had she been so afraid of? She hadn’t felt unnatural or awkward, not with Willow. She couldn’t imagine being with anyone else and feeling so right. Did Willow now know? Had she said enough? Would she now realize that Buffy had been making love to her?

* * * *

Cordelia smiled at Xander in amusement as Anya, still irritated by his earlier behavior, sat at the dining room table pointedly avoiding him and awaiting his overtures of apology. “She’s gonna eat him alive,” Cordy commented to Faith, as she gently smoothed a healing ointment onto her companion’s right wrist.

“Yep,” Faith agreed. “He’s whipped and loving it. Never figured he’d take that from anyone but Buffy and Willow,” she continued, as they both, without any subtlety whatsoever, observed and enjoyed the domestic bliss that was Xander and Anya.

“Anya? Honey? You know I wanted to be at home with you,” he offered, slowly edging towards her, knowing from past experience that she needed reassurance.

“Oh, and that’s why you went off bruise-hunting with Giles. It seems to me you just like putting your life in danger, Xander. I’ve seen some horrible things in my time … I’ve been the cause of many of them actually …” she stated, smiling in fond remembrance. Shaking her old self off, she continued, “I just don’t understand why?”

“Anya, it’s not like I knew we were going to be attacked,” Xander complained.

“But you were attacked and I saw you. You always get attacked. You put your life in danger for them and they don’t even sleep with you! Sometimes I’m not even sure they like you all that much - so they probably never will sleep with you. But you still risk your life. It’s like you’re some Lesbo groupie. I mean, look,” she said gesturing towards Faith and Cordelia. “Now we have two more.”

“WHAT??!” Cordelia exclaimed, dropping Faith’s hand like a hot potato. “Who the hell do you think you’re calling a … a …”

Faith’s jaw dropped and then she laughed. “Lady, you got a lotta brass.”

“Anya, they’re not lesbians. At least I don’t think … I mean they’re friends. Cordelia’s just tending to Faith’s wounds like any bosom buddy would … like Willow would tend to Bu …” Xander flailed, stopped by the mental picture now forming in his mind, his expression rapidly becoming vacant.

“HEY!” Cordelia snapped, recognizing that Xander was about to formulate one of his infamous little fantasies. She stood and marched towards him. “Perv!” she exclaimed as she planted a well aimed slap on the back of his head.

“Oww!” Xander yelped, drawn out of his thoughts by the blow. Glaring at Cordy, he reminded her “You never minded before.”

“You lost the right to do that when you had illicit smoochies with her,” she said, gesturing towards Willow before turning away from him completely. ‘Blast, I thought I’d gotten over that,’ she realized unhappily.

“Damn stud, is there anybody you haven’t played ‘one-on-one bind me and grind me’ with for at least, oh I don’t know, seven minutes?” Faith remarked, throwing Xander a knowing smile and a wink.

“I’ll have you know that Xander is a Viking in the sack,” Anya replied instinctively defending him. “He has many talents, which I’m certain none of you taught him and I have over a thousand years of experience,” she boasted. “The manacles you can buy these days are far more accommodating.”

“What?” Cordelia shrieked. “The next thing you’re gonna tell me is that you don’t mind him having sexual fantasies about every woman in this room.”

Willow, who had been listening quietly, now glared at Xander and raised her eyebrow “Really?”

Looking at Willow in shock, Xander exclaimed “I wouldn’t … I didn’t … I haven’t had … about … ,” he began, only to have his eye distracted by Cordelia’s steely gaze. “Okay, look there was that one time … But hey Will, you’re playing on my ‘Team’; you know, my side of the fence now.”

“Your side of the fence? Team? What team? Hey, it’s not like there’s a club, you know. I haven’t joined a cult,” Willow declared.

“This isn’t about you,” Anya exclaimed, feeling that Willow really should keep out of this -- before adding defensively “So don’t even think about hitting me again.”

Seeing the hurt expression on Willow’s face, Xander jumped to her defense. “Anya, you know she didn’t mean to hurt you,” Xander offered. “I thought we’d talked about this?”

“Oh yes, you talked about it. I was just waiting for the orgasms,” Anya replied. “You’re always defending them. You never defend me!” she accused, building up quite a head of steam now that she had an audience.

“Gee that’s new,” Cordelia piped up sarcastically.

Xander glanced at Cordelia, smirking, “You were always perfectly capable of defending yourself,” he pointed out.

Cordelia tilted her head to one side before retorting, “Thank you so much for sidestepping the issue, but that’s not the point. You always took their side; never mine. Seems nothing’s changed.”

“That’s not true,” Willow stated firmly.

Turning to face Willow, Cordelia responded “How would you know?” throwing a raised eyebrow at her one-time nemesis.

“Well, he managed to keep you a secret,” Willow replied, suddenly a little unsure about her ground.

“A bit late for excuses now, isn’t it?” Cordelia smirked.

“And to think I believed him when he said you were different with him,” Willow spat back at Cordelia. “What did you ever see in her?” she asked turning on her oldest friend.

Xander squirmed, switching from one foot to another and raising his hand to scratch his head as he watched the train wreck coming his way. The turning of Cordelia’s head in his direction sent chills down his spine.

Giles stood in the kitchen both enjoying the show and yet wishing he was elsewhere. The sight of Xander floundering under the microscope of four women who it appeared knew all his biggest secrets, was almost unbearable. His masculine pride urged him to help out a fellow male, the only other of his kind in this apparently emotionally unbalanced group, but his instinct for self-preservation told him to stay out of it before the blood-letting began.

Faith stared at the angry women before her. She could tell that the wonderful Cordelia that she knew was only a few steps from full Queen C mode, while Anya was a seething ex-demon about to spit fire, a fearful Xander was looking for somewhere to hide and an uncomfortable Giles was questioning his manhood. But what really unsettled her was the fact that one of them looked and sounded like Buffy yet was so Willow-like in her words and actions, that a chill ran down her spine. Had this been any other time, any other place, she would have been happy to sit back and watch the fireworks. But seeing the body of her sister Slayer without her essence before her reminded her exactly why they were all here. And that what she was seeing was just some all too familiar misplaced anger.

“LADIES!” Faith yelled, winking at Xander. “Much as I’m enjoying this bitch fest, and believe me when I say that I am, have you all gone freakoid on me or what? Shaking up a cocktail of bitchy jealousies over him when there’s important things to do?” She shook her head in disbelief, throwing Xander a dismissive glance.

“Hey,” Xander responded automatically, despite the sudden guilt that overwhelmed him.

“You deaf, action man? I said shut the hell up already and get over it. All of you!” Faith almost shouted, glaring at them all and adding, “Jeeze, what is this? A rehearsal for Days Of Our Lives? We should be talking about how to rescue B, not firing your guilt crap at each other. Those guys took her, we lost her, we didn’t protect her. So suck it up and let’s figure out what we can do to get her back. Right, G-man?”

Willow, Xander and Anya stared open mouthed, unable to believe that Faith had just brought them all down a peg or two … and justifiably so. Cordelia, although stunned at Faith’s outburst, slowly began to smile as pride filled her. They all looked at Giles, knowing that if he replied, then they really had heard correctly and had just been told off by Faith.

“Ahhhm, well, yes indeed …” Giles managed as he picked his proverbial jaw up off the floor, amazed that Faith had just done what he should have been doing – getting everyone focused on the mission to rescue Buffy.

* * * *

Now at the headquarters of Angel Investigations, Wesley trawled through the files he’d managed to download so quickly; wishing he’d had more time. The picture before him was scattered and fragmented. He could see that Wolfram & Hart wasn’t really that particular about their client list, but that alone wasn’t what had him worried. It was the frequent occult and mystical references he had found that caused concern.

Doubtful that he could make anything of the data before him, he went on-line. Surfing around their company name, he found himself amazed at the lack of information available. It was almost as if they didn’t exist. He had never heard of a large law firm with such a low public profile.

Then he found it - a blog. Some guy in South America; ranting about how the firm had sold his daughter, over six years ago, in a pan-dimensional auction; claiming that Wolfram & Hart, were trying to bring about the end of the world. He further maintained that the firm was run by demons!

Retrying his search, but this time focusing on blogs, he almost jumped as over six hundred results came back. “Well,” he exclaimed, as he started to read.

Almost half an hour later he sat back, his mind a melee of disbelief and concern. “Angel!” Wesley called out. “I think that we may have a bigger problem than either we or the Sunnydale group expected.”

* * * *

“Willow, I really think we need to wait. If we go now they’ll be expecting us and they will be prepared for us. I believe Faith is correct. We need to let the waiting get on their nerves. We must let their tiredness work for us, wait until they’re already seeing us in the shadows,” Giles advised her, each point coated in understanding and sympathy.

Faith watched shocked as for the second time she could ever recall Giles stood up for her. It felt good, if a little belated. But just when she thought they were getting through to a very ‘wanna do it now’ Red-in-blonde-hair, the face before her became pale and her eyes seemed to roll into the back of her head. Instinctively, Faith moved forward. She’d seen this with Cordy – Red was about to zonk out on them!

Willow felt herself falling to the floor overwhelmed by so many emotions, but instead of the harsh landing she had expected a pair of strong arms suddenly caught her, lowering her gently. She could feel tears welling from somewhere and a rasping breath, but they weren’t hers! Then she felt something on her face, moist, no wet. Tears? But she wasn’t crying – ‘what the heck is … Who … no, No, NO – Oh Buffy don’t cry …’

“Bring her over here,” Cordelia instructed, as she watched the pain filling Willow’s face. Faith gently picked Willow up and placed her on the couch as Cordy had directed. The Seer had never really paid that much attention to what a vision looked like but that was before she’d been ‘blessed’ with them. So without shame she stared, fascinated by the way Willow’s eyebrows seemed to draw together in anger and pain. ‘Do I look like that? Do I look like I’m dying inside?’

* * * *

Buffy didn’t know where the voice had come from. ‘Maybe I’m dreaming,’ she reasoned. The voice had been so soft, so endearing, so warm … so scared? It had drawn her back into that last warm night, those soft and tender arms, those lingering lips – Willow.

She could have sworn she had actually heard her. Was she going crazy? Did the crazy hear the voices of those they longed for? Was that true madness? To be taunted by your memories and tortured by the voice of someone you long for?

Her laughter was hollow as it echoed around her enclosed space, filling her ears with its fragile tones. ‘Oh great, now the wheels come off the wagon! This can’t be happening - a cracked slayer. Like hell! I am so not losing it! They’re just messing with me,’ she decided as she tried to persuade herself that she’d only heard Willow’s voice because she was scared and she wasn’t used to being scared … not like this anyhow.

* * * *

“Look, we’re pretty banged up. Gotta say we could all do with some zzz’s. That’s sleep to you, G-man,” Xander said.

“Well, I guess since this is your place, you get to make the sleeping arrangements,” Cordelia noted, turning to glance at Willow. “But I don’t think we should move her just yet.”

“Xander sleeps with me,” Anya pointed out unequivocally, still somewhat unsure about the new two additions to their group.

Cordelia held in the smile she could feel creeping up on her.

Deciding that Cordelia appeared to have regained control of her tongue, Xander glanced about the apartment as if counting. “Well, I guess if Anya and I stick with our room, you and Faith could take the spare,” he offered, hiding a slight smile as he imagined the two of them on the cozy little bed he had removed from Willow and Buffy’s dorm room when he had secretly gifted them with the queen-sized bed and a rose. No chance for rose on this bed tonight, he thought.

Shaking his head clear, he continued “And that leaves Giles out here with Willow,” as he glanced at Giles for approval.

“That would seem sensible. I have no idea what just happened, although I gather you believe it was a vision,” he responded glancing at Faith.

“Looked just like what C goes through,” she replied glancing at the Seer and then back at Willow. “I’m guessing Red’s gonna need a couple of pain pills when she comes to.”

“They give you a headache?” Xander asked, impressed that Cordelia would regularly go through anything like what he had just seen Willow experience, and its aftermath.

“Headache doesn’t really begin to cover it,” Cordelia replied, somewhat embarrassed by the look of admiration she saw on Xander’s face.

“Hey G-man,” Faith interrupted, “I think she’s coming to.”

Ignoring the fact that everyone seemed to be referring to him by that damn silly nickname, Giles eagerly made his way to Willow’s side as Faith stepped back to allow him complete access to the woman she’d been standing guard over for the last half hour.

“Willow?” Giles called softly as he took her small hand in his; briefly forgetting that he was being watched. Concern etched across his face, he leaned a little closer. “Willow, can you hear me? Can you open your eyes?”

“Bu … Buuuu … Buffffyyyy,” she whispered as her eyelids fluttered.

Giles found himself blushing but pushing his embarrassment aside he responded “Willow, what did you see?”

“Hea … heard … no felt,” Willow mumbled as her eyelids lifted and she tried to focus on the worried faces gathered around her. “Buffy. I felt her.”

Giles brought his head back to look at her oddly.

“Felt her … fear. Giles, she’s so scared,” Willow declared, her eyes wide.

* * * *

Holland Manners had a forbidding presence from yards away, but right up close he was terrifying, and scared the shit out of nearly every single one of his employees. Smiling, he glanced to his left at the limp body of the man he had until five minutes ago been interviewing. Dropping his eyes towards the small bloodstains on the once cream-colored carpet, he casually said “What a pity. You can’t get that out of a carpet. Believe me, we’ve tried.” Glancing up at Hyatt Ramu, without changing either his tone or facial expression, he asked “Are you afraid?”

Hyatt nodded slightly as he tried in vain to ignore the beads of sweat he could feel beginning to form as they usually did within minutes of entering into the presence of the Vice President of Special Projects.

“Well that’s understandable. You’ve really stuck your neck out on this one. Rather egregious behavior for you. Did you actually believe I wouldn’t learn everything? That I don’t prepare for everything?”

“I …” Hyatt stumbled, glancing towards the blood stains.

“You lied to us – more importantly to me,” Holland noted threateningly, his eyes steely and clear. “This is a delicate moment, son. Do you admit to your ambition and lies or do you try to deny what you now know that I already know?”

Hyatt found that he was staring at his feet and so he slowly lifted his chin to meet the gaze of the one man that he truly both admired and feared. “I didn’t betray the firm, Sir. I was only thinking of what was best for us all. Either ‘True Night’ will fall or the ‘Amulet’ will eventually reach its intended target. I assure you there will be no downside to this.”

“Really? You decided to pre-empt matters that had been set in play by the Senior Partners decades ago; events of which you have only a very limited understanding. And yet you feel that you can assure me? My, we have become brave, haven’t we?”

“Brave?” Hyatt asked as his mouth dried up. That would have inferred that he was taking a chance, that he was gambling. And he didn’t gamble.

“Indeed. Well, you’re in a crisis, son; A crisis of faith. Very few men make their own destinies. Those that do have the courage of their convictions and they know how to behave in a crisis. I wonder if you do,” he stated, his eyes questioning.

“Like now?” Hyatt replied, realizing that he was being judged.

“Like now. Unless I’m mistaken, and I very rarely am, you may be proved to have everything it takes to go all the way here – drive, ambition and, depending on the outcome of the events you have set in motion, it would appear excellence. But I don’t think you know what you’re really asking for nor getting into, and until you do – I guess we will both have to wait and see. Won’t we?”

* * * *

Faith stood by the door of the spare bedroom, staring at the single bed before her, more than a little surprised at how nervous and unsure she felt at having to share it with Cordelia. She hadn’t shared a bed, for the purposes of sleeping, since her early days in the orphanage. Even her one-night stands didn’t stay until morning.

“Okay. It’s gonna be a tight fit. So you want the left or right? Or do we top and tail?” Cordelia asked grinning, bravado taking over as she fought the butterflies in her stomach. ‘I’ve been sharing my apartment with her for over a month. Why am I so spooked now?’ she wondered.

Taking her lead from Cordelia, Faith responded “Not really loving the idea of you kicking me in the head all night,” she winked “so I’ll take the right side.” Moving towards the far side of the bed, she quipped “You don’t snore, do ya?”

“Nobody’s ever complained,” responded Cordy. ‘Where the hell did that come from? There hasn’t been anybody to complain in a long time. What the hell am I trying to prove?’ she wondered as she sat on the left side of the bed and removed her shoes.

“Good to know,” Faith smirked as a strange almost jealous feeling washed over her. ‘What’s it to me that she’s got exes? What was I expecting her to be - a nun?’

Cordelia pulled off her slacks and, throwing them onto her bag, she found herself staring at the door wondering why Xander had put them both in here.

As Faith bent down to pull off her shoes a sharp pain shot down the side of her head and she caught her breath. “Jeeze,” she gasped. Sitting back up, she grimaced in annoyance at the tranquilizer residue that still seemed to be flowing through her veins.

“You okay?” Cordy asked anxiously, leaning across the bed to touch Faith’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Just got a playback from the tranq cocktail they hit me with,” Faith stated, feeling the warmth of Cordelia’s hand on her shoulder. It was strange but real nice to have someone concerned about her. “May have to sleep with my boots on.”

“Damn it, why did you let them …” Cordelia questioned, jumping from her side of the bed and coming around to Faith’s.

“Oh yeah, like they asked permission,” Faith muttered. But before she could think of a defensive quip her breathing was cut off by the sight of Cordelia in what appeared to be only a shirt, her long legs fully exposed as she approached the Slayer to kneel at her feet and remove her boots. ‘Get a grip! You’ve seen her naked before. What’s the big? Damn, she looks good in that. Oh boy, is this going to be a long night!’

* * * *

Holland Manner’s reviewed the video of Angel’s visit. “You’re certain that’s all they took.”

“Yes, Sir. Just as you anticipated,” the security guard confirmed, gulping and praying that he hadn’t somehow slipped up.

“Good. Very good,” Manners muttered mostly to himself, “It would seem we’re somewhat ahead of schedule. Interesting.”

“Sir?” The security guard questioned before he could help himself.

“These are interesting times young man, very interesting times,” Holland Manners replied. “Do you play the stock market?” he asked rising and walking towards the videotape machine.

“No Sir.”

“Not a gambler. I like that. Well young man, the stock market isn’t about buying the right shares. It’s about information. The value of information; what you know, when you know it and how you use it,” he stated ejecting the tape. Turning to smile at the now very nervous security officer, he continued “Did your father ever teach you the value of keeping information to yourself?”

Gulping, the officer nodded before replying, “Yes, Sir.”

“Well young man, let us see if your father taught you well,” he stated before opening the door and leaving with a parting nod to the now perspiring young man.

* * * *

“How long have I been out?” Willow asked as she gazed at the smiling but obviously concerned face of Giles.

“About four hours,” he replied. Glancing outside he added, “It’s nearly three am.”

“Crikey. Where is everyone?” she asked glancing around.

“Recharging and letting their wounds heal,” Giles explained. “Catching a few zzz’s, as Xander calls it, seemed a good idea.”

“Yeah, guess that’s true,” Willow commented but as she started to sit up, a little dizziness hit her. “Woooah?”

“According to Cordelia and Faith, you had a vision,” Giles explained. “Do you remember it?” he asked apprehensively.

“Yeah. I remember it. Oh Giles … She’s hurting so much, so scared,” Willow said her eyes wide with pain.

“I know. But we’ll get her back. I promise you,” Giles assured her.

As Willow attempted to swing her legs around she recalled that she had fallen. “Thanks for catching me.”

“I wish I could take credit but that was Faith. She realized what was happening long before the rest of us. She caught you and made you comfortable …” he stated nodding towards the couch, “she stayed with you until you started to come around,” Giles recalled, his features pensive yet showing a trace of obvious admiration for the behavior he was describing.

“Oh,” Willow responded, a little unnerved that Faith had been the one to catch her and not sure what she should say now that she knew. “Can I have a glass of water?” she asked, choosing to deal with her thirst rather than the confusion that now filled her.

Standing, Giles turned and walked towards the kitchen area. “I know you have little or no reason to believe … I mean with all that’s happened, why would you? In the present circumstances … I feel certain that asking you to trust Faith would be pointless. But the fact remains that we are going to need her,” Giles stated with certainty.

Willow stared at his back and, although the thought of trusting Faith made her insides twist, she also noted that much of what Faith had done had saved their asses. Okay, she’s been the one to put said asses in a sling. But there seemed to be so many things to consider. What the ex-slayer had said to Buffy had been closer to the truth than she cared to admit. Oh Goddess, why is nothing ever simple?

“For one thing we have no idea of their numbers. Faith is the best person to help us determine that accurately,” Giles continued, knowing that what he really meant was ‘she’s the only one I dare risk because she could probably fight her way free if she was captured.’

Willow nodded to herself as she acknowledged what Giles had omitted from saying. “Okay, so we need her. That doesn’t mean I have to like her, you know.”

“I understand,” Giles acknowledged. “But you may have to work with her.”

“Huh?”

Turning towards her as he filled the glass with water, Giles smiled in partial apology. “I’ve been thinking about your idea to use slayer residual magic.” Turning off the faucet, he moved towards her. “After all, it was the residual slayer magic that allowed the vision rod to work as well as it did. However, at the same time I’m somewhat uncertain how much you could reasonably extract and use from one slayer’s body, especially your borrowed slayer’s body. But I’m fairly certain that the bodies of two slayers would contain, even allowing for a diminution over time, a sufficient quantity of magic to greatly improve our chance of success,” he finished, passing Willow her water.

“Two slayers?” Willow contemplated, considering the increased options that would give her. “That might just work. But I’ll need to gauge what level of magic I’m working with. Maybe do a test run.”

* * * *

Slim scratched his ear again. The damn itch just wouldn’t go away. He’d been sitting here for almost six hours now; staring out at the darkness, watching shadows, watching dust, watching shapes. He was getting tired, grungy and damned itchy. The warehouse was full of dust and who knew what else. He could feel his skin reacting to all of it. He could hardly complain about the filth because the guys would rib him until next century.

He glanced at the box, wondering how dirty and uncomfortable it was in there. ‘Well at least she’s stopped yelling out and screaming.’ He’d checked her ropes and given her some water about two hours ago. She’d been pretty mouthy and he’d barely been able to stop himself from hitting her … that is, until he had seen the tear stains down her cheeks. He never could cope with a woman crying.

Suddenly he saw it! A movement … Yes, it was a movement … just behind that junction box. Lining up the sights of his weapon, he tried to relax his breathing. Loosening his arms, he flexed his fingers around the trigger. Then he saw it. Damn it – a cat.

‘Where the fuck are they? If they’re coming, why don’t they just come? What the hell are they waiting for? Maybe the Boss was wrong. What the hell are we worried about? What could a bunch of kids do, anyway?

* * * *

Giles had awakened everyone around four, stating rather cryptically that some things needed doing before dawn. Cordelia was somewhat put out at how quickly Faith had managed to reemerge from her sleep.

The Seer now stood in the shower letting the water pour over her skin in a vain attempt to wash off the feeling of confusion that had bothered her all morning. She’d awakened after only a couple of hours sleep, not having been that tired in the first place. Turning to gaze at Faith who was still very much in a deep sleep, she’d continued looking at her new friend – yes, they were friends. Not questioning that she hadn’t simply gotten up and left Faith sleeping, she now wondered why she hadn’t. Closing her eyes, she let her mind wander back.

She’d laid there, at first just listening to her Slayer’s breathing, subconsciously setting her own breathing to the same rhythm. Then she’d turned her head to one side taking in the profile of a woman she was growing to admire more and more everyday. The chestnut hair splayed out over her pillow, a strong yet feminine jaw framing a face filled with both tenderness and strength. ‘Why am I only just now seeing it?’ Cordelia wondered as she focused on the dark lashes and oh-so-tempting lips.

At first she’d considered Faith just one raging female hormone, never really taking in or caring what was underneath all that brash armor. But the woman sleeping beside her was another member of the walking wounded, left to try and pull their lives back together once the ‘dark side’ had marched over them with its huge boots.

Just before Giles had knocked on their door, she’d observed the underlying tan on Faith’s skin and recalled that afternoon when she had let Faith help her with the ‘I’m not giving up on a tan just because I work nights’ problem. She’d remembered wondering at that time where Faith’s honey-coated tinge came from. She’d thought that maybe somewhere in her gene pool was an Indian or Italian heritage. She also recalled the slight tingle of excitement that had filled her as she’d stood completely naked before the dark slayer, knowing that she was being assessed by those chestnut brown eyes. And now the longer Cordelia stared, the more she felt the urge to reach out and check if that glowing skin was as warm and soft as it looked.

“I know what you’re doing in there,” Anya yelled, as she helped Giles rouse the troops.

Cordelia’s eyes shot open and had anyone seen her face, they would have seen blushing guilt and embarrassment. ‘Oh my God!’

“You will not get out of making your bed,” she yelled. “It doesn’t work for Xander and it certainly won’t work for you.”

* * * *

Faith stood on the balcony staring out at Sunnydale, recalling waking up next to Cordelia. It had taken her longer than she’d expected to fall asleep. The sound of Cordelia’s gentle breathing so close to her had stirred feelings of affection and excitement that she hadn’t been expecting. How could someone she had only really gotten to know so recently come to mean so much to her?

The connection between them, which was at first so comfortable, so familiar and safe, had changed. She didn’t know what their relationship was changing into, but whatever it was it filled her with a heady excitement, anticipation and eagerness. She hadn’t felt so alive in longer than she cared to admit. But she knew that all of this, whatever this was, could crumble away if she didn’t help to fix the mess around her.

Her mind awash with hopes, plans and worries. And she mentally yelled at the moon. ‘I’m gonna rip those guys a whole new world of pain,’ she promised herself. Maybe then she could let out the anger and guilt she had been keeping at bay. Glancing at her wrists, she recalled the helplessness she had felt when they had taken B … the pain she had seen in Willow’s eyes. She would fix this. She had to. The sound of the door opening broke her train of thought and drew her attention as she turned.

“Hi,” Willow offered warily as she moved slowly out onto the balcony, her head and heart both full of conflicting emotions as she approached the one person she truly blamed for all that had happened … both good and bad.

“Red?” Faith responded in acknowledgement and surprise, as her muscles involuntarily tightened in anticipation of a verbal attack. “You feeling any better?”

Nodding, Willow said “A little. I heard you kept it from being any worse.”

Faith shrugged “Got plenty of experience with Cordy.”

There was an uncomfortable pause.

“Look, we both know where we stand,” Willow stated, unable to meet Faith’s gaze.

“So I won’t wait for the Christmas card,” Faith replied, desperate to inject some light humor and avoid any serious discussion on the subject of Willow’s opinion of her.

“But Giles is right. We’re going to have to work together to rescue Buffy,” Willow added, raising her eyes to meet Faith’s. “So I guess we need to talk.”

Faith stared at the face before her, reminding herself that although she was seeing Buffy - this was Willow. “Okay.”

“I’ve been working on a way of using the Magic residual within the slayer line to help us when we try to get Buffy back,” Willow explained, rushing on to a topic she could control, her fear that Faith would have a go at her as she had with Buffy, pushing her to find safe ground. “Giles believes that any spell would have a much better chance of succeeding with the magic of two slayers. I’ll need to draw the magic from you.”

“So you need my blood or what?” Faith asked without hesitation.

“No, no. It’s not connected to blood. At least I don’t think so,” Willow rushed on, “I mean blood is vital and a powerful force for both good and bad. But no, I hadn’t considered blood. That’s not what I need. Although it would be interesting to try to determine if it is the slayer blood that is responsible for traits such as increased slayer strength and healing. In which case, a study of Buffy and your blood would be really interesting. Maybe another time; right now that’s not what I need. At least I don’t think so. When I cast the spell we will need to be touching so that I can draw from you,” she finished without taking a breath.

“Kinda like a transfusion?” Faith asked, desperately trying to cut through Willow’s babble to understand what exactly Willow was asking of her. ‘How does Buffy deal with Red’s babble all the time? She doesn’t even seem to need to breathe’ the brunette wondered somewhat amazed.

“Yes, like a transfusion but without the needles. And since we don’t know if it could leave you weakened or dizzy for a while, Giles felt we should have a run-through,” Willow explained, not sure why the thought of linking herself, or rather Buffy’s body to Faith’s was setting off so many different alarm bells.

“Sure, whatever it takes … whatever you need,” Faith said rolling up her sleeve and presenting her arm to Willow.

“That won’t be necessary,” Willow said, smiling slightly at Faith’s eagerness. “All we need to do it is just hold … umm … hold hands,” she blushed.

Encouraged by Willow’s slight relaxation and embarrassment, Faith winked. “Trust me, I won’t tell … if you don’t.”

* * * *

As Xander watched Willow (still in Buffy’s body, of course) and Faith, he was a little unnerved by the fact that they were holding hands. It was an image he was having more than a little difficulty processing and he therefore missed Giles calling to him.

“Xander?” Giles called again in frustration. ‘How can he spend so much waking time daydreaming and still have survived this long in Sunnydale?’ he wondered, standing and walking over to place a hand on the young man’s shoulder.

“Whaaa?” Xander exclaimed almost jumping out of his skin.

“Nice of you to join us,” Giles commented, before stepping back. “I need you to transport me to the magic shop. We’re going to need supplies. Then when Willow and Faith have finished, I want you to take her to the warehouse.”

“What?” Xander exclaimed. “Are you nuts? She’ll get killed.”

“Faith. Not Willow,” Giles explained, only to be met by a completely different look of disbelief. “She is not going to try and rescue Buffy by herself. We simply need an idea of numbers and the general layout.”

“Can’t Will get that from the city plans? You know Willow and her back-door on-line thingy?” Xander asked, surprised that Giles was apparently going to trust information provided by Faith - Information that could prove to be vital in rescuing Buffy.

“We’ve already got those. But they don’t tell us where the men are positioned or how many there are,” Giles explained, a little exasperated at Xander’s overly questioning attitude. “I’m sending you because Faith appears to me to be taking this all rather personally and I’m concerned that she may forsake her present logical position if she finds herself faced with an opportunity to rescue Buffy.”

“So with babysitter - me - in tow, it’s ‘Hey Faith, you can look, but no punchy on the bad guys’. Man, I don’t know if even I could do that,” Xander honestly replied.

“You’ll have to. We’ll only get one opportunity at this and if an impromptu attempt fails, someone may get injured reducing our numbers or they may move Buffy or we may lose them … or … they could kill her. I can’t risk any of that happening,” Giles explained, feeling that all-too-familiar parental urge to strangle or shout at his brood ‘Can’t you just do as you’re told.’

* * * *

“Okay. Now I’m going to try and create a blinding flash of light followed by complete loss of light,” Willow explained, nervously glancing at an extremely intent and attentive Faith. ‘Why is she looking at me as if she’s taking me seriously? She never takes me seriously. Well she never has before. I mean, she said some nice things at the mansion but that was just to get to Buffy, wasn’t it? Let’s face it - Faith’s just being nice to make sure she’s in on the fight. I’d be a fool to trust her. Nope, not falling for the ‘trust me’ thing,’ Willow mentally babbled, more than a little concerned by Faith’s apparent complete acceptance of her plan. “Don’t be upset if it doesn’t work at first.”

“Got it. Kinda like our own flash bang,” Faith commented.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Willow replied unable to hold back a smile. “I’m just not too sure how much magic we have to work with. So scale may be an issue. I mean, I’m aiming for the block but we could end up with just a few street lights,” Willow replied, a little nervous at attempting magic with a woman she didn’t like let alone trust. ‘This is for Buffy. What does it matter how I get her back?’ she reminded herself.

“So do I have to concentrate or say anything … you know … Latinish or something?” Faith asked, feeling completely out of her depth.

“Nope. Just stand there … quietly,” Willow explained.

“Got it. Translation – shut up Faith,” the dark Slayer grinned.

Willow stared at her, unable to believe she had just heard Faith make herself the butt of a joke. “Well … ummm … It’s just … a little hard to concen … concentrate when someone’s tal … talking, that’s all,” Willow finally replied.

“Red, whatever you need, whatever it takes. Honestly, all I wanted to do was to help you two. I never meant for this all to go so … freakin’ wrong,” Faith explained apologetically. “So whatever I gotta do to get you two back together and so you can maybe take up where you left off,” she smirked. “Trust me - it’s gonna get done.”

Willow went from embarrassment to anger to disbelief. “You’re asking me to trust you?” Willow asked incredulously before reverting to sarcasm. “I’m supposed to … what? Believe that this is just Faith on an uncharacteristic, altruistic quest and nothing more - so I can completely trust you? You have to know that’s not going to happen,” she stated. “You probably thought Buffy would freak at the idea of … that you’d break up ... our friendship,” Willow accused.

Faith smiled sadly at her, realizing that Willow was still full of unchanneled anger. So she changed tack and lowering her head slightly as she almost whispered “This isn’t about what you think of me. This is about what you know in your heart to be true. And you do know it, Red. I can tell. And unless I’ve missed my guess, you’ve just about given up on running away from it,” Faith stated, tilting her head slightly.

“Wha … thi … how can you … Okay there was … concern … But there has been no running. Certain considerations, well thought out consequences … there was thought, a decision making process, the feelings of others … ,” Willow babbled, flabbergasted by Faith’s apparent insight into her life.

“Oh yeah, sure. Others. They so have nothing to do with finding a future, with finding a way to make up for all those lost years,” Faith replied. “Look Red, let’s just drop it … at least for now. Okay? We gotta work together to get her back and then deal with this whole apocalypse thing. Whatever you two think I’ve got coming after that – I’ll deal. I won’t run.”

* * * *

Xander stared anxiously at the array of weapons they had gathered; the collection before him somehow seemed disappointingly non-menacing. After a moment of thought, he realized why they looked so ineffectual. A slayer’s armory was designed for fighting demons, not a fully armed bunch of Rambo wannabe’s. They were blunt and savage, designed for wounding, maiming or a guaranteed close-up kill. When placed up against an AK47, they might as well have been clubs and rocks. “We’ll need to get in close,” he commented.

Giles picked up a crossbow and a cold shiver ran down his spine. He’d used most of this weaponry more times than he could recall but it had never been against living humans. When had the lines blurred? When had everything shifted? Glancing at Xander, he saw a pensiveness and concern that mirrored his own. “This could prove problematic,” he muttered.

“What we’ll really need is a diversion. Something to allow us to penetrate deep into their defenses before they can react,” Xander said thinking out loud. “That’s what Willow’s fixing to give us. Right?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what she’s trying to do. But I’d be happier if we had a back-up plan, just in case,” Giles stated, knowing that to rely on magic alone would be far too dangerous.

Glancing out into the night, Xander asked quietly “How do you think its going?”

Giles found himself also drawn to look out into the darkness, “I’ll just be happy if we return to find they’re both still in one piece.”

* * * *

Willow sat down with a thud. The light had been so bright and the darkness that followed had swallowed almost eighteen city blocks. She was both exhausted and elated.

“That was wicked fun!” Faith exclaimed as she leaned against the rail, catching her breath. She hadn’t felt this tired and drained in a long time. It was kind of peaceful to have so much nervous energy taken away.

“So much … there was so much. I can hardly believe how much … oh … Oh my!” Willow muttered as the residual static energy of the spell caught her, sending goosebumps up and down her skin. “I don’t understand how Giles didn’t know … I mean, the Watchers would have tested … I mean, they had to know,” the witch paused to breathe. “What a waste!”

“Hey!” Faith retorted.

“Sorry,” Willow responded to her protest. “I didn’t mean to say that it was wasted on a slayer. I just meant with all that … why didn’t they arm you with magic too?”

Faith recalled her training, and the many fights and disagreements she’d had with her Watcher. She remembered all the times she’d thrown a fit or just plain run out on her Watcher, knowing that there was nothing she could do to stop her. “Guess they figured playing with fire was bad enough, why add dynamite? Let’s face it; a bunch of book types – no offense - dealing with a teenage hormonal girl who can kick major ass and take numbers; and you think they’re gonna show these girls how to throw fireballs from their eye sockets too? Yeah, right.”

“But it would have made them so powerful … Oh, I see what you mean. They might be able to manage a teenage super strong girl. But how could they hope to control a super strong teenage witch?” Willow spat.

“Kinda stinks doesn’t it,” Faith commented, managing to push herself back from the railing to sit down by Willow.

“Yes, it really does,” Willow agreed, wondering at the years she had missed. Years where she and Buffy could have had something in common, something only they could share, something where they were on equal terms. But she would certainly explore it further when she got her Buffy back.

As if reading her mind, Faith asked “Is this the way it always feels whenever you do your mojo thing?”

Considering the question, Willow replied “Sometimes, depending on the spell. Usually … not so much. There have been nosebleeds. Must’ve been tapping into the slayer magic along with remaining witch magic.”

Grinning, the brunette Slayer said “B is gonna love doing the magics with you when she gets back.”

* * * *

Leaning against the wall of her new steal cage, Buffy shut her eyes in shock as the blindfold was ripped from her. She didn’t know how many hours of blindfolded existence she’d endured, but the sudden jolt of neon light was blinding. The sound of a bolt being shut and a lock being turned let her know that she had simply exchanged one cell for another. She couldn’t understand why they would bother to lock her up again if they were just going to kill her. In fact, she didn’t quite understand why they hadn’t killed her already. It didn’t make sense!
 
She’d been terrified when her cell door was opened to then have multiple hands grabbing at her, dragging her out, pulling at the ropes that bound her, shouting orders at each other. She’d thought that it was the end; that the inevitable end of her life had arrived. It just hadn’t been as she had expected. She had always pictured it happening in the darkness and shadows, in the heat of battle; a warrior’s death. Not bound and gagged like lump of meat being taken to slaughter.
 
Buffy had looked back on her life; something about that damned ‘flashing before your eyes’ thing. But all she had found was mostly regret and disappointment. There was so much she should have done by now. She had told herself certain things could wait or that they really didn’t matter all that much. What a fool she’d been! Over the last few years she had done what she had always said she would never do --- she ’d let slaying take over her life.
 
Her mind flew to earlier days and she found herself smiling at how she’d needed to fight tooth and nail for a life, desperate not to let this damned slayer gig take her over completely. Even Giles had eventually agreed that there had to be more for her, that a slayer needed a connection to the world, a reason to fight for it. Without that connection she would have been killed by now like many a slayer before her and she knew it.
 
She’d seen the wonder in Kendra’s eyes at the life she’d seen Buffy leading and at what was missing from her own strict regiment. But Faith had pushed in the opposite direction, living for only the moment, treating slaying like part of the fun.  Buffy had always thought of herself as balanced but the more she looked back the less she saw herself having a life that didn’t involve slaying. Her social group had narrowed, her outside activities tailored to the bare essentials of attending college.

And she had managed to drag her loved ones with her. Sure, Giles was her Watcher and her mom was … well … her mom and she tried to keep her out of slayer stuff. But Xander and Willow … Her young male best friend was like the brother she’d never had. He was always there when she needed him; ready to face anything by her side. He had saved her life … no … he had brought her back. He spent so much of his time helping her in her fight. And it was probably her fault that he had ended up with an ex-demon for a girlfriend.

And Willow. She was so smart, so kind, so beautiful. She could be doing anything, anywhere. She could be somewhere safe. But she had stayed in Sunnydale always helping her whether it was with research, surfing her computer, magic, fighting by her side or treating her wounds. Or just talking, being together. ‘I don’t know where I’d be without her …’

Where the hell was her fun? Where the hell was her life going? That is, if she would have a life after all this was over.

* * * *

“Okay, so let me get this straight. A Barder ball thingy freezes time ... unless you’re wearing one of those stinky things. No offense,” Xander stated smiling at Willow apologetically.

“I didn’t have any rosemary. The sulfur can be very overpowering without …,” Willow began with a shy smile.
 
Giles interrupted Willow. “A Bardus Ball slows time for all unless you happen to be wearing a Munimen abusque veneficium talisman,” the Watcher explained, his tone tinged with boredom and irritation since he had already explained this twice now.
 
“So why don’t we have … M … talismans,” Anya stated, unable to pronounce its Latin name and not much liking the idea of having time slow down around her.
 
Willow sighed before adding “I need time to create an entrance and then follow our search pattern.”

“The Bardus Ball will only slow them down for about half an hour. We only had the ingredients for two. Plus the more you divert the Bardus Ball, the weaker it becomes,” Giles explained. “We’ve been over this.”

“Yeah well, I’m just a little nervous about all this magic. Why did we go and get all those weapons if we’re not going to use them?” Xander complained, feeling somewhat troubled that they would be relying on magic as much as it appeared they would. “No offense Will, but it doesn’t feel that long ago I had to buy you an ice cream to calm you down because your floating pencil … floated completely away.”

“That was four years ago,” Willow stated, annoyed and unable to believe he still remembered that.

“Look toy boy, I’ve seen what Red can do. She’s up for this and personally I’d rather take on a truck load of armed mercs with Willow’s magic than that pile of highlander leftovers. They won’t go far against a semi automatic,” Faith stated, a little ticked that Xander was being such a downer.

Willow couldn’t believe that Faith not only stood up for her but had actually used her name. She stared at her open-mouthed and mumbled “Thanks.”

* * * *

Angel was pacing! Wesley found it unnerving and the longer it went on - the greater his desire to leave grew. He knew that the news had been bad in parts and a bit sketchy elsewhere, but he had delivered worse. Why was Angel in such a state?

Glancing back at his notes, he tried to recall what he had been saying when Angel had suddenly jumped to his feet and started in on his pacing. ‘I explained about the Wolfram & Hart theory, Mr. Manners, Ramu and that slimy Maclay bloke. Damn it, Faith! How could you be so reckless? Then I went into the prophecy … Oh, hell.”

This time when he looked up at the living dead man before him, he saw it – the fear, the questions, the doubts, the hope. ‘What on earth should I say to him? This is more than a ‘good luck, old chap’ thing. I mean he could … there’s every possibility … but then again if we’re wrong …’

Angel suddenly stopped his pacing and, turning to Wesley, he stated, “I need to speak to Willow.”

“Willow?” Wesley questioned. Angel always spoke to Giles or Buffy, if he spoke to anyone at all.

“I think I know what this is really all about,” he stated.

Chapter 30

Willow stood at Xander’s kitchen counter, her mind completely overloaded by the dozens of different tasks -- matters such as where should she balance her center during the entrance spell? Had she put enough mustard seed in her and Faith’s charms? Would Xander be able to pull off the diversion? Could she trust Faith with something this important?

Glancing over at Faith, Xander and Giles as they narrowed down which weapons to take with them, a more disturbing train of thought overtook her. How far was she prepared to go? Would they need to kill someone? Could she? Would Buffy understand if she accidentally did? Neither of them had forgiven Faith – if she was to believe that Faith’s actions had been unintentional or even forgivable.

Anya was on the far side of the apartment watching the three would-be warriors with a puzzled but slightly amused expression. Willow could swear she was checking to be sure that Xander was still there. She wondered whether that was what it was like to be in a real relationship - to be in constant fear of losing what you had. Her brief time with Tara had been so new, almost childlike in its innocent acceptance of their relationship. Neither one of them quite sure what a relationship between two women was meant to be like.

But now as she looked back over her early relationship with Oz, she saw so many similarities. For the first time she began to wonder if there was any difference. Wasn’t a relationship between any two people much the same? Attraction, dependence, loyalty, support, love … she paused mid-thought, unsure if she actually knew what made up a relationship, let alone love.

But she knew that she had loved them both, and still did. Yet the love, the feelings, the closeness, everything she felt with Buffy was so intense. It seemed to speak to the very core of her heart.

Was it quantifiable? Could it be measured, observed, categorized? What she felt for Buffy didn’t appear the same thing she had observed between her own parents. Then realizing that in her experience they and Xander’s parents were the only couples she knew who had been together for longer than ten years, her heart sank. Her melancholy was interrupted by the sudden ringing of the telephone. Instinctively she reached for it.

Giles turned his head at the sound of the telephone, drawing his attention away from weapons sorting, which he was finding anything but mentally challenging. The look he saw on Willow’s face immediately filled him with concern. Then he heard her say “Angel” and he immediately understood her troubled expression.

Nodding towards her, he left Xander and Faith to continue the sorting. He gestured to take the phone but Willow shook her head.

Giles frowned, giving Willow a look of obvious concern. Angel had been such a large and important part of Buffy’s life. Both the Slayer’s Watcher and her best friend had watched her heart break when Angel had turned into Angelus; when she’d had to kill him; and, then again, when he had decided to leave (after his return from the Hell dimension to which she had sent him). Unable, at that time, to say that he thought that it was all for the best, Giles tried to imagine how speaking to Angel must be affecting Willow after recent events.

He had not seen a future in Buffy’s relationship with the vampire and the return of Angelus had only seemed to prove him right. But Willow, he now knew, had buried her own feelings and done everything she could to bring back Buffy’s vampire lover despite their extreme misgivings because it was what Buffy had wanted. And now Willow was dealing with Buffy’s “-ex” on a level she’d never had to before – as his potential replacement!

Willow’s silence somewhat disconcerted Angel. “Are you okay?” he asked awkwardly. This quiet, nervous woman was the person he was now trusting with his Buffy’s heart and life? He had always admired her quiet strength but right now he needed her to talk to him.

“Yes, yes. I just wasn’t expecting … Has something happened?” she asked. Willow tried to listen to what Angel was about to say but knowing that the person on the other end of the phone loved Buffy just as much as she did wasn’t letting her think straight.

“We’ve learned some more about Wolfram & Hart, the law firm you asked about. I’ll let Wesley explain. Then I need to talk to you,” Angel advised her. “Willow?”

“Oh, yes … yes. Okay,” she agreed, acknowledging his instructions and desperately trying to collect her thoughts. She knew that she had to concentrate.

She could hear the handset being passed and then her name being spoken, closely followed by the very familiar British tones of Wesley. “Hello?”

“Hi,” Willow offered in greeting. “What did you find out?” she asked, trying to sound interested as she forced herself to listen intently despite the desire to run that was building within her.

“As Angel may have intimated, we have managed to collect some rather disturbing information regarding the lawyer’s firm in question. I have to say that what we have learned was disturbing, although it does not represent an exhaustive view of the firm nor, in my opinion, the events we are trying to interpret,” Wesley explained.

Willow found it easier to concentrate as Wesley proceeded to explain what he had found, his doubts, concerns and the hypothesis he had hesitantly reached. “Really?” Willow asked, her eyebrows rising pronouncedly. “Oh my … but that could mean that Angel … OH! That would mean … I mean that would mean that if he … he could …” Willow babbled, falling into stunned silence as she considered the ramifications of this information. Her silence lasted for quite some time before she spoke again. “Are you sure it’s about Angel?” she asked, kicking herself for asking and secretly hoping that the answer was – no.

“As I said, I am working on third and sometimes fourth hand accounts here. But I feel that to ignore these references, when taken in conjunction with the character, history and reputation of the parties concerned, could be incredibly irresponsible,” Wesley affirmed. “If there is any chance that … any opportunity … maybe we should … if there is a chance that …”

Willow interrupted Wesley’s ifs and maybes to ask “But how does this connect to us?”

“Can’t you see? They’re trying to bring about The Apocalypse before Angel becomes aware of his part in the prophecy and they are using you two to do it,” Wesley stated, somewhat surprised that Willow hadn’t considered that this wasn’t actually about her or Buffy. “What I can’t determine is how they knew about Cordelia’s vision. Regardless of that, ideally certain things need to be resolved before tomorrow’s sunrise.”

Giles found himself wishing he had a slayer’s enhanced hearing. Being able to listen to only one side of the conversation was incredibly frustrating. It left him with so many unanswered questions. In addition he was finding it extremely difficult to read the nuances of the looks on Willow’s Buffy-face.

As if suddenly remembering she was being watched, Willow turned her face away from Giles but she wasn’t quick enough to hide the flash of sudden fear and dread. “I see. Yes, well we’d come to that conclusion too. But I don’t see how that relates to the prophecy.”

“What prophecy?” Giles asked, his irritation and concern now very apparent.

Willow gestured for him to be patient as she reflected on the logic of Wesley’s hypothesis, desperate to find a hole, a flaw, something to make her worst fear disappear. ‘If Wesley is right … if that could happen … she would be bound to. Oh Goddess, I’m going to lose her after all … No, No! This can’t be happening. Why? It’s a mistake … it has to be.’ Stricken by the fear and the inevitable failure she could see before her, Willow let the handset drop from her ear.

Seeing the look of despair on Willow’s face, Giles decided he had had enough and reached forward to take the handset from Willow’s drooping hand and raised it to his own ear. “Angel?”

“Giles?” Wesley acknowledged, puzzled.

Giles glanced at Willow, surprised that he hadn’t realized she’d stopped talking to Angel. “Wesley … could I trouble you to please repeat exactly what you just told Willow?”

Ignoring the fact that Giles had just taken the hand set from her, Willow stood unable to stop one terrifying thought from running over and over in her mind. ‘Angel could become human again. Buffy’s Angel could become mortal! The man she couldn’t have, the future they couldn’t have … everything she had ever wanted. Oh Goddess, what am I going to do??!!’

* * * *

Eoin Maclay stood and smiled at the book before him. He had thought that this day would never come. All those years of working carefully towards his goal, of bending his knee to men he would normally have had nothing to do with. Every sacrifice now seemed worthwhile.

At first he’d resented having to leave his mountain community, forced out into the harsh world because of his unpopular fascination with the powers of the Maclay women. Realizing that his thirst for magic went against everything that his father and brothers believed in, he had long ago broken all connection with his family. Although for quite some time he’d tried to make secret contact with his grandma.

It had been her stories that had fired his imagination as a small boy. Most of the town just considered her a crazy harmless old lady, her body riddled with arthritis. They only saw her as a baby-sitter. He’d loved visiting her and he’d sought her out long after becoming old enough to watch out for himself.

She had continued her stories, extending them and exploring their meanings with him until one day his grandfather had overheard them, hitting the roof … and grandma. Little had his grandma known the envy he’d felt as he’d listened to her tales, knowing that only the women of his line could tap into the magics she spoke of. Silently he had understood why the men of his clan had decided to prevent them from using their talents.

Now after eight, or was it nine years, of working for Wolfram and Hart he was almost at the end of his quest. Only one more thing remained to be done and he would be the first Maclay males to tap into real personal magic.

* * * *

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Giles reiterated into the telephone, glancing sideways and catching Willow’s distant expression.

“Giles, it has to be her decision,” Angel explained, his insides gnawing at him. He knew that, despite his instinctual need to run to Buffy’s aid and Wesley’s loud protestations, he had to defer to Willow. She was the one he had passed Buffy’s care to and she needed to know that. Besides he knew that Faith and Cordelia were there to give her any help that she might need.

“Very well, but I still have reservations.” Removing the phone from his ear, he turned to fully look at Willow, who raised her head to stare blankly at him. “Angel would like to speak to you.”

“Me?” she questioned.

Giles nodded, offering her the handset. Willow stepped forward as if in a dream, fear filling her heart as she reached out to take the telephone back from Giles. “Angel?” she muttered apprehensively.

“Willow, I know it’s been a lot to take in and that you have some very understandable concerns,” he began. “It was my choice to try to bring you two together,” he advised her, having heard the apprehension in her voice. “And I don’t regret that decision for a minute.”

Willow was mute, her own expectations and fears, making it difficult to fully take in what he was saying. It was as if he was whispering. She couldn’t be hearing right. Why would he be saying that? “W … Why?”

“You were meant for her. I never was,” Angel stated, unsure how to make it any clearer.

“I … I …” Willow stuttered, wanting to acknowledge what he had just said but unsure just how to do that. How do you thank your beloved’s “-ex” for giving her up?

“I know that you know how I feel. So trust me when I say that I know how you feel. If you want my help, I’ll be there,” he assured her. “But if you want to do this yourself, I’ll understand that too,” he added. “The choice is yours.”

Willow took the handset away from her ear and stared at it in shock. Angel was asking her permission. No, he was asking her to choose, to decide. But what if she failed without him? What if she only succeeded because of him? Oh Goddess, what should she do?

“What is it?” Giles asked Willow, obviously concerned.

Returning the receiver to her ear, she swallowed forcing the words from her mouth. “I … understand. Thank you Angel but I need to do this …”

His heart sank but he nodded, accepting her decision. “I guess I’d better speak to Giles. Good luck, Willow.”

* * * *

She needed to sleep but she didn’t want to miss anything. What if Willow was brought past her and she missed it? What if the opportunity to escape appeared while she was asleep? Buffy forced herself to stay awake despite the exhaustion she felt, keeping her eyes wide. The salty tears of fatigue fell down her face but she ignored them.

Last night she’d been in Willow’s arms. They had made love. It hadn’t been a dream. It hadn’t been a wish. It had been real she assured herself. Okay, she wasn’t in her body and Willow was – but hell, it didn’t matter. They had been together. She hadn’t needed to see Willow. She had felt her, sensed her soul.

She wouldn’t, couldn’t let the memory fade. But she couldn’t let it entice her to close her eyes, to fall back into that sensory memory - the tastes, smells, feelings. She had to stay awake.

‘The guys will be coming for us,’ Buffy told herself, still believing that Willow had also been taken. ‘Giles will have a plan. They’ll be here soon, my love.’

* * * *

Cordelia stared at Faith in amazement as the dark Slayer moved towards the Wiccan. ‘Damn, she’s gonna try to talk to Willow now! Has she got a suicide wish?’

Willow had just punched the stuffings out of the once pretty Moroccan cushions littering the couch. While Xander and Anya had mutually chosen to ignore the destruction of their property, having recognized Willow’s almost animal-like frenzy, Faith had simply edged forward waiting for the storm to subside.

Her admiration for Willow was growing in leaps and bounds as she realized that Willow had vented her anger and rage at an inanimate object rather than a person.

As Xander stared at the destruction, recalling the amount of repair work he’d had to do at the Summers’ house and over at Giles’ in the last year, he pondered ‘Maybe we should consider having a secret base – something that could take being continually trashed.’

Cordelia found herself moving forward protectively, not sure if there would actually be anything she could do if these two went all ballistic on each other or her. But she was damned certain she’d try to stop it. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that something Angel said had upset Willow. ‘That big lug. Wait till I get hold of him.’

Faith stood her ground, waiting for Willow to acknowledge her presence with a glance. She recognized the look of despair, frustration, anger and resignation in the Wiccan’s eyes. ‘Damn it! She’s giving up.’ Instinctively she edged forward. She would do whatever she had to in order to help Willow get through this – ‘hold it together Red, you’re not falling apart on my watch.’

Willow caught the movement out of the corner of her eye and shot a look of challenge at the dark Slayer, but to her surprise all she got back was a look of concern and understanding.

* * * *

Slim poured out the stale coffee, needing its boost more than he needed its taste. He’d finally finished his shift. The half hour rest break had been a long time coming. Dawn was taking its time arriving and he knew he was getting ratty. He’d almost bitten Dorgan’s head off when he’d asked for the last check in. What the hell was the guy expecting? If anything had happened did he seriously think the guys would be keeping it to themselves? Dumb schmuck!

He pulled out his smokes and, sitting down, he’d taken great pleasure in lighting his first of the day. Stretching he reached for the coffee and, downing half the cup, he wondered what the hell they were doing here. He hated these “do as your told and don’t ask questions” gigs. He’d rather be on a search-and-destroy. This “we know what we’re doing – just follow the orders” stuff drove him crazy.

Scratching the same spot on his neck that had now been bugging him for almost six hours, he threw the last of the coffee down his throat in frustration. The sound of footsteps outside caught his ear and he instinctively reached for his piece.

* * * *

“You know what really sucks?” Faith asked quietly as she sat down next to Willow. Not waiting for a reply from her silent companion on the couch, she answered her own question. “Soft scoop ice cream; You know it says scoop from frozen but you still leave it out on the side for like 15 minutes, not because it asks you to, not because it’ll make a difference, but ‘cause inside you have this internal ‘get real’ bullshit detector and you know you’re just delaying the inevitable. So you leave it to stand, you know – ignore it for a while and the problem will just go away. ‘Cause you know, you just know - it’s gonna do a Uri Geller on any spoon that goes near it,” she stated. “The hard shit’s always hard. It always bends you outta shape, no matter how long you leave it.”

Willow stared at the carpet in front of her, letting Faith’s quiet words wash over her.

Faith continued as if reading Willow’s mind, “I know how it feels to have all that slayer strength boiling up inside you - not being able to run out and do what you want; You know, not to be able to like rush out and get her back. To know what you can do but know that you shouldn’t – that you can’t just use the power exactly when and how you want. I don’t think anyone gets how hard it is for us to have to wait before getting into the action. It’s so much easier to strike out before thinking things completely through. Believe me I should know – I’ve done it enough. It’s hard to hold back the anger and the rage; so much easier to strike out blindly.”

Willow lowered her head and said, “It’s like everything goes into a red haze. I can feel the hot blood rising.” She explained sadly “And it feels like the only thing that will work is violence. I can’t even think of researching or talking or anything other than using my fists and feet.”

Faith smiled a little “I know. It’s an incredible feeling, isn’t it?”

Willow shook her head and declared, “It’s terrifying. How do you control it? How do you handle the rage?”

Faith sadly admitted, “Honey, most of the time I didn’t. I’m doing better at that now. And I was ‘Chosen’ and trained. So you’re doing pretty well all things considered. But B … she’s always been able to handle it.”

Willow responded so softly that Faith had to use her slayer hearing “I got so mad. Look what I did to their pillows.”

Faith grinned, “Better the pillows than one of us. Don’t worry about it – they’ll understand.”

Willow responded angrily “Understand what? That I lost it.”

Not really wanting to let Willow fixate on her loss of control, Faith decided to change the subject. “Look, we all know that you were on the phone with Angel. What did he say to upset you so much?”

Willow looked despondent as she replied, “He said that it had been his choice to bring Buffy and me together … that I was meant for her”

Faith declared, “Dead boy sure likes taking the credit doesn’t he? I think that Cordy and I had more than a little to do with that. But he’s right about you being meant for her. And she’s meant for you. I think we’ve all known it for some time. Maybe we didn’t all realize or accept it but we all knew. And Angel … hell… I think he always knew it too … deep down.”

Willow whimpered plaintively, “But she loved him so much. She probably still does.”

Faith looked sadly at Willow and felt her pain. She asked, “Did you love Oz? Tara?”

Willow replied, “Yes.”

Faith then added thoughtfully, “I think that Angel was a part of B’s life just like Oz and Tara were a part of yours. Maybe they were meant to prepare you for each other somehow. Fact is they weren’t the ones.”

Ignoring Faith’s observation, Willow whispered “He said it was up to me … if he came to help us rescue Buffy.”

Reading the insecurity in her face, Faith realized what Willow was thinking and so she forcefully responded. “I hope you told him that everything was under control here. Because it is, you know.”

Willow shakily asked, “Is it? Am I risking Buffy’s life because I don’t want him to come and help … because I want to … I feel that I have to do this myself?”

Faith responded with confidence “You can do it. And I … we … all of us … we got your back. There is no way you’ve come this far only to let it all go wrong now. This is your show. And you’re going to get her back - safe and sound,” she asserted. “Then you two are going to take care of the body switcheroony thing.”

Willow plaintively asked “And then what? What do I do when I get her back? When we sort our bodies out? If Wesley’s right … it’s not just about us. There are others involved.”

Faith, stunned for a moment, answered instinctively “Others don’t matter. You two are what matters. And in case you haven’t noticed -- all of your friends are here and are in your corner … just waiting to back you up.”

Willow glanced at Faith before quietly muttering “It’s not just them … us. There’s … others …”

Glancing at the young woman - daughter, student and witch before her; Faith suddenly had an unfamiliar moment of clarity. “Look I get it. Mothers have expectations, mainly to do with the ‘white dress and grandkids’ scenario. But honey, I’ve heard about this nifty turkey baster trick” she added, trying to lighten the mood a little.

Willow didn’t respond, more than a little unnerved by Faith’s apparent mind reading.

“Are you really that upset about letting your mother down? Kinda thought you’d gotten over that with the whole ‘out and proud Mary’ thing?” Faith asked seriously.

“This isn’t about my mother,” Willow assured Faith, wondering how the heck their conversation had ended up with them talking about her mother. She never talked about her mother.

“It’s always about somebody’s mother,” Faith commented dryly, staring at the woman before her. She’d always assumed that Willow’d had the whole package -- mommy and daddy. Okay, maybe the absent, mainly ‘forgetting you’re there’ kind. The sorta hippie parents most kids prayed for. Yet Faith had gotten the distinct vibe that Willow would have swapped them both for just one parent who had taken an interest in her failures, problems and concerns, rather than just her successes.

Willow took in the truth of the statement with a wry smile, before making it clear. “Well it’s not about mine.”

“Not your mother? I’m guessing not your father. So whose?” Faith asked wondering how someone so strong and so in control had emerged from what she knew of Willow’s earlier life. So much for adversity creating strength – Willow had lived on the edge of the Brady thing and yet looking at her Faith could see so many things she recognized in herself. She had often considered the possibility that if she’d had a mother who’d stuck around then maybe she’d have ended up a little more normal – whatever the hell that was. Suddenly it became crystal clear as the image of her ideal mother figure took shape. “Ahhhh. Yeah, right. Diggin’ it. Mmmm. Joyce. B’s mom does kinda make you set your bar real high, doesn’t she?”

Willow whimpered again “She is so going to hate me for doing this to Buffy.”

“In case you’ve forgotten, the switch was my idea,” Faith reminded her. “All I wanted you to do was a more intense kind of ‘walking in each other’s shoes’ since things here in good ole’ Sunnydale are always so intense. I figured that knowing each other like this would be the wake-up call you two finally needed.” Continuing quietly she added, “I never meant to hurt either of you. Not again.”

Willow smiled at Faith. “I know,” she replied sincerely.

Faith felt a weight lifting, one she never thought would. “ So what’s new? Mrs. S. can hate me again,” she declared more forcefully.

“That’s not it. Mrs. Summers has always been so nice to all of us … to me. She’s going to think that I’ve made Buffy gay.” Willow almost sobbed.

“Red, Mrs. S. thinks of you like another daughter already,” Faith went on trying hard not to laugh. “Plus she’s cool. And I think what she really cares about - is B being happy. And you make her happy. She knows you’d never hurt B; that you’d do anything for her. It may take a little time, there may be a little freakin’ out and getting used to it - but I think she’ll be OK. She loves you both.”

Willow looked at the dark Slayer hopefully. “Do you really believe that?”

“I don’t just believe it. I know it,” Faith strongly asserted. “And I know that B is gonna be ready for you once we … you get her back. She’s gonna run into your arms – major gushy and mushy stuff – I may barf,” she quipped. “And you know, I’m gonna get a major raggin’ – right?”

Willow really smiled for the first time in quite a while and reached out to put a hand on Faith’s arm. “Thank you, Faith,” she said rather emotionally.

Faith slightly embarrassed replied “Yeah. You know … whatever.”

After a slight pause, Faith recovered herself and declared “So Red, wha’d’ya say we get this plan of ours in gear and go get B? I know I can’t wait for another chance at the mojo we did before. Then I can get down to kicking some serious butt-kicking.”

* * * *

There was little or nothing Giles could do since it wasn’t his decision. He had tried to persuade Angel that he should reconsider but the man seemed hell-bent on supporting Willow. Irritated by the admiration he had for Angel’s decision, when he considered the strong feelings the vampire had for Buffy, he was also exasperated at having such a powerful potential team member removed from his arsenal. He would have preferred to have everything available on hand and a partner with Angel’s skill and experience could have proved invaluable.

His greatest fear was that their plan would flounder and Willow would be left regretting her decision not to take Angel up on his offer of help. Glancing at Willow who was again in deep conversation with Faith, he mentally crossed his fingers that she was capable of doing what she planned to do.

Anya’s presentation of lunch had been an eye opener. He’d never really seen her in a domestic role before. Giles was still unsure if the nervous feeling in his belly was the result of Anya’s exceedingly spicy meatball concoction or because if this all went wrong … Well, he didn’t want to think about that possibility.

Today had been somewhat disjointed and as evening approached he found himself considering the reactions and actions of their small band. Willow had spent quite a bit of time with Faith and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

Xander and Anya had just seemed to get on with whatever needed doing; he had found the familiar sound of their infantile and distracting banter unusually comforting. There was still so little he understood about their relationship and even less he really wanted to. But he drew surprising comfort from the unchangeable quality of the mismatched pair. Xander had never really stopped watching over Willow, despite Cordelia’s contention that it was Faith she needed to talk to and Anya’s apparent annoyance at his concern. Giles had caught his frequent darting looks at the talking women.

At first Cordelia had seemed to want to reign over the group, quietly nudging everyone away from Faith and Willow. He had feared Queen C had returned. However she had then become encouraging and constructive as she talked with a depth of knowledge and experience about fight preparations which Giles found quite astoundingly out of character. But he’d watched her take somewhat insulting simplistic instruction from Anya on the laying out of the lunch table, without a sharp word or acid retort. He’d severely misjudged her and he knew it.

The time for action was almost upon them. Turning to the young man beside him he sighed with the resignation and determination of a man who had, despite his inner instincts and inclinations, fought in one too many wars.

“Xander, let’s start getting the weapons into your car.”

* * * *

Faith was sitting on the counter, staring out at what could be the last few minutes of daylight they would ever see. It was a beautiful sunset. Seeing Willow moving towards her, she smiled in acknowledgement.

Willow returned her smile and said quietly so that no one else could hear “Before we go, can I ask you something?”

Lowering herself from the counter, Faith replied “Sure. Anything.”

Willow continued softly and sincerely “When we met … from the beginning … you … never liked me. You … hated me. Why?”

Faith closed her eyes. She’d been expecting this particular conversation ever since she’d arrived back in Sunnydale but she’d hoped it wouldn’t happen until they’d gotten Buffy back, so that she would only have to respond to the question once.

Willow saw looks of embarrassment, resignation and shame cross the other young woman’s face.

Opening her eyes, Faith looked at Willow sadly and responded just as quietly “I never hated you. I … I was jealous … okay?”

Willow’s jaw dropped. “You were … what? You … You’re a Vampire Slayer … with your slayer powers … and the stories … and the sexy. You were jealous of me?”

“Sexy? Didn’t think you’d noticed,” Faith winked, before becoming serious again. “And yes. I’ve always been jealous of you. Guess my bad was partially because of that.”

Almost speechless, Willow finally managed “I … I … I don’t understand.”

Faith closed her eyes again for a moment to try to gather herself. ‘C’mon girl – time to suck it up.’ And, then taking a deep breath, she continued, “You’re brilliant, brave and beautiful – and you’ve always had Buffy’s heart. It didn’t take me that long to figure out that what you two had was more than best friendship.”

Willow gawked, still very much disturbed by the fact that it seemed everyone knew how she felt about Buffy … well almost.

Faith smiled wryly “And so damn humble that you still don’t see it. OK. I’ve got slayer strength, speed, hearing and a ‘bite me’ body – but it’s all just physical. And until recently I wasn’t using any of it all that well. But you … you can make computers do anything. You research as good as or better than Giles. You have book and school smarts. The street smarts - kinda naïve but they’re there. You help B in the field not just behind the scenes. And you’re … nice.”

Willow could feel a slight blush building. Glancing at the ground she was grateful the guys were still loading up the car and that no one else could hear what Faith was saying. Raising her head she instinctively opened her mouth to dispute Faith’s assertions.

But before Willow could say anything, Faith plowed on “And then - then there’s the brave part. How many times have you gone up against vamps and demons at her side?” Pausing slightly and sighing Faith went on “Even that time in the Mayor’s office – You knew I was Slayer strong - what I was capable of. I had a knife and you knew I wanted to hurt you. But you stood up to me … hell, you told me off. Now I know that what you said was true. But back then it was too late … I was in so deep with the Mayor. I had gone over the edge with you guys too many times.”

Willow took in the sorrow in her face and nodding slightly she accepted Faith’s assessment of their past.

Looking directly at Willow, she admitted, “I thought I’d finally found somewhere I belonged, someone I could share this Slayer thing with. You could even say … I had a crush on B. I think I had it before I got here. I knew her rep – great slayer, beat death, killed the Master. Hell, she even stood up to the Council. This was someone I could learn to share things with. I thought I’d finally found a family.”

Willow wondered how she had not seen the insecurity before.

“But it was always you guys first – her Scoobies – her Willow. I couldn’t compete. After that first week patrolling with her - I knew I was the outsider. The way she would light up when she talked about you guys – you were family.” Faith sighed. “Do you know what it’s like to watch families from the outside? Terrified because you might really start to care … because you know that only someone you want to care for you can really hurt you,” she stated her voice shaking slightly. “All they have to do is make it very clear that they’ll only let you get so close and that anything more is out of your reach. She was everything to me,” Faith continued in an unusually quiet voice. “And then I hated her for not knowing that … I’d wanted her … she was meant to get it… to understand … to know … what I wanted … what I needed … how I felt … I wanted a …”

Willow’s mind swam in fear. ‘She can’t mean… she’s in love with Buffy too….’

* * * *

Angel made his way towards the address Wesley had given him. This was supposed to be the location of a Shaman that Wolfram and Hart’s records had listed in connection with Buffy and Willow. Sunset had seemed to take it’s own sweet time arriving and his thoughts had flown back to Buffy and where he’d really rather be as he had awaited the arrival of nightfall.
 
The idea of deliberately seeking out someone involved the magics, especially someone apparently not too shy about using the dark stuff, really gave Wesley a bad feeling. A magical curse was what had brought Angel to this point in his life, with all its heartache, pain and unresolved guilt. Now that he thought about it, maybe Faith and Cordelia’s solution of cursing Buffy and Willow to swap bodies hadn’t been such a great idea after all.
 
Turning the corner, Angel caught sight of a small figure running. “There,” he called out to Wesley, indicating the shape as it ducked into an alleyway. Hitting the breaks, he shifted gears and turned into the next access running parallel to the alley.
 
Wesley reached into his carry-all and retrieved his crossbow, anticipating that a show of force would be required. He ignored the absolute knowledge that any show of force would probably come from Angel. He needed to feel of use and he certainly wasn’t about to question holding a weapon gave him that feeling.
 
Angel accelerated through the access, sending rubbish and small animals scurrying, before he came to a sudden stop and hanging a left, he blocked the exit to the alleyway just as a the figure had almost emerged from the shadows and into the brief doorway and the street light at the end of the alley.
 
The small figure froze and Angel heard him mutter “Not enough warning. Not nearly enough.”

* * * *

“I wanted a … sister. But she already had one,” Faith declared glancing at Willow, but missing the relief that washed over the witch. “She’d puff up with pride when she talked about – her Willow. Willow – her best friend, sister, confidante … true love – even if she couldn’t see it yet. There just didn’t seem to be room for me; No matter how hard I tried, how hard I pushed. It took a while for that to get though to me.”

The disappointment in her voice made Willow wonder if she’d ever really known this woman.

“I grew to resent you … the Scoobies, Giles, Joyce. You all seemed to belong. It was like you’d let me visit, but I just couldn’t stay. It was just like every other foster family I’d ever known. So I did I did what I’ve always done. I struck out … I hit first … I hurt you before I could be hurt,” she admitted glancing at the floor rather than meeting the look of pity she knew she’d see in Willow’s eyes.

Willow could feel her heart reaching out to the woman before her, who suddenly seemed so childlike and vulnerable.

Faith summoned her courage and looked back at the Witch. “I know it’s only words and they don’t mean much.” She paused. “I hope … If you …” She shook her head. ‘Jeez, this stuff’s harder than it looks’ she admitted to herself and tried again. “Willow … I really and truly do regret the pain that I’ve caused you … and Buffy.”

Willow’s jaw dropped in surprise as she realized that Faith had just used their given names, giving her words a depth of meaning she couldn’t doubt.

“I know that you’ll probably never be able to forgive, let alone trust me, so I won’t even ask,” Faith stated, before looking directly into the other girl’s eyes and promising, “But know this --- if you ever need anything from me, y’know … need me to do anything or if I find out that you need my kinda help – I’ll be there for you. I won’t let you down. I owe you – no strings.”

Willow had never heard Faith talk for so long and so seriously about anything. She didn’t have a clue what to say.

Faith hoped she hadn’t made a big mistake by being so honest just before they went out to get her sister Slayer. Willow’s well-known “resolve” face took over Buffy’s features and the hazel, rather than green, eyes bore into her own as though they were peering into her very soul. Although it was uncomfortably difficult, the dark Slayer never looked away from Willow’s intense gaze, hoping that she could convey her sincerity.

Suddenly the Witch smiled mischievously, realizing that they both needed some light relief, and she sexily asked, “Do you really think I’m … beautiful?”

Faith was so surprised by the question, which seemed to come out of left field, and the change in Willow’s demeanor, especially after everything the Slayer had just revealed, that all she could do was stammer “I … Huh … I … ahh … Wh … What?”

Amused by Faith’s sudden inability to string a sentence together, Willow continued, “You said that I was brilliant, brave and beautiful. You kinda talked about the brilliant and the brave. What about the beautiful part?”

Faith blinked, but catching the twinkle in Willow’s eye, she finally smiled. “Goes without saying … you got that ‘I may look shy and nice but I love to be naughty’ thing going; kinda like a hidden surprise in a Cracker Jacks box – a surprising little sin thing”

“Sin?” Willow exclaimed with concern.

“Honey, you know how I love a little sin – I’d have been quite happy to let you lead me astray,” Faith advised her, winking suggestively. “But you always had B in your sights. You two belong together. Beautiful witch who now has inside slayer know-how and a beautiful slayer about to find out she’s got untapped mojo. Damn, you two are gonna give the bad guys apoplexy,” she smirked. “Okay so I’m a hopeless romantic. Shocker, ain’t it? I’ve seen some real nasty stuff in my life, hell I’ve done some of it, but you guys always reminded me of what really mattered. Getting you two together - seeing something so right actually work out – despite all the crap that surrounds us - I kinda need that too.”

“Awww, Faith.” Willow exclaimed and threw her arms around a stunned Slayer who stiffened in surprise as the Witch pulled her into a tight hug. “Welcome to the family.”

Faith’s heart burst with an unfamiliar happiness and she wrapped Willow’s slender frame in her own arms, returning the hug for all she was worth.

“Well would you look at that?” Xander exclaimed, as he walked back into the apartment to see the two women hugging.

“That is certainly a sight that I never thought I’d see,” Giles commented.

Anya glanced over her shoulder at Cordelia’s wide eyes and threw Xander an ‘I told you so’ look.

“If Buffy doesn’t get her arms off …” Cordelia scowled and growled.

A grinning Xander interrupted, “Cordy, that’s Willow.”

“I know that!” Cordelia yelled at him. “Has that little b … witch forgotten that her beloved Buffy is still in the hands of those mercenaries? I just think that’s …quite enough of that.”

Xander laughed heartily and stage whispered to Anya. “Well honey, I guess you were right again. We’d better keep an eye on our two LA friends.”

Anya, still smiling, said “You should all learn to listen to me more often.”

Giles simply shook his head, as confused by their exchange as he was by the sight before him.

“Excuse me! Buffy is still out there needing us to rescue her,” Cordelia spat as she marched up to the still embracing women.

But neither one seemed to hear her.

“Willow, are you ok?” Xander asked as he too stepped towards them.

Willow looked up smiling at Faith, as she moved out of their embrace before responding “Yeah, Xander. I’m fine. Now. Thanks to Faith.” Then grinning at Giles, she added, “I think we’re ready to get Buffy. I’m pretty sure our spell and any other magic we try will be much stronger and more powerful now.”

As Cordelia moved closer to Faith, Giles inquired “Indeed?”

Willow smiled at Faith as she replied “There’s trust between us now, not just the magic.”

“Are you alright?” Cordelia asked Faith.

Faith offered her loyal friend a quiet and sincere smile. “Five by five … Totally,” she stated before reaching out to give Cordelia a big hug. ‘This mushy stuff’s not so bad,’ she decided, as she drew a stunned and confused Seer into her heart-felt embrace, filling it with all the thanks she felt because this wonderful woman was her friend.

* * * *

Angel stood his ground since there was no point moving forward until the guy decided if he was going to fight or flee. Years of experience had taught him that these two animal instincts were universal. But the man wasn’t moving. He was just standing there waiting. ‘What the hell’s he waiting for – an invitation? Do something! Run already.’

Maclay sighed ‘This is taking longer than I expected. Why doesn’t he just attack?’

Wesley stood feeling somewhat like he was missing something as he took in the two men before him; it was like some weird cowboy standoff. He could almost here the spaghetti western music. Each was staring at the other, seemingly waiting for the other to move.

“You don’t seem too surprised to see me. Why is that?” Angel finally asked.

“I guess you prefer to be a surprise,” Maclay responded.

“We all like a little mystery in our lives,” Angel acknowledged.

Maclay just smiled. ‘Come closer,’ he thought as he reached into his pants pocket as casually as he could.

Angel smiled. “I should have realized they’d warn you. It seems our little visit to your employers didn’t exactly go undetected,” he added moving forward. “But what could you know that would warrant giving you the heads up, I wonder?”

“Ahh, so that’s what you’re after,” he responded glancing at the rising moon. “You’re a little late for a fact-finding mission, aren’t you?”

“You wouldn’t be trying to make a run for it if I was out of time,” Angel stated, getting closer to the man. ‘Why doesn’t he run? He must know what I am.’

“Oh, I’m not running. I’m exactly where I need to be,” Maclay stated stepping forward with bravado.

His response caused Angel to stop and glance around the alley. Seeing nothing untoward, he continued towards the man. “Can’t say I’m impressed by your choice of venue - but to each to his own. I’d have gone for something more GH myself.”

‘That’s it – closer,’ Maclay silently urged, wrapping his fist around the Amulet.

“Angel,” Wesley warned. “Be careful.” There was something about this he didn’t like. The fellow was too relaxed. It was almost as if he wanted Angel to … Oh my god! “Angel!” he yelled as a bright blue aura surrounded them both.

Maclay had reached out and touched Angel before muttering something under his breath. The flash of blue light had been almost blinding. It had seemed to freeze Angel in mid-step and then the bubble of light had withdrawn to surround them.

As Wesley moved forward, he took in the strange sight before him. It was as if a large ten-foot blue light bulb had suddenly taken up residence in the middle of the alley. Inside the bulb he could just about make out the figures of Angel and the other man. But as he approached, it became harder to move, harder to lift his legs, impossible to move forward. It felt like he was trying to walk through tar.

The power coursing through his veins, pouring into him was overwhelming. Maclay could almost feel each of his organs as they soaked in the essence of the Amulet. He had used Angel to unlock it. He had used himself as the conduit and he had used what he had needed from the book to block the transfer to the vampire. He was now a living breathing battery, storing and holding the power of the amulet.

The swelling living pure magic intended to stop an apocalypse was now his.

Chapter 31

Hyatt Ramu recalled watching with fear as Maclay had walked towards Holland Manners. His stomach already in knots, he wondered why he had thought following his boss was a good idea. His grandmother had always said that those who eavesdrop never hear well of themselves.

His natural distrust and curiosity had taken over when he'd seen the senior partner come out of “Recent Acquisitions”. Years of training, years of knowing what not to see, what not to acknowledge as a junior had fallen away in response to the trepidation, self-preservation and doubt his boss had recently instilled into him. He'd been so confident of his success, so certain that his careful planning would bear fruit. But Holland’s calm, matter-of-fact statements, knowledge and questions had shaken his world. All thoughts of becoming a partner by carefully moving up the ladder via detailed planning and eventually taking Holland’s post seemed to drift from his mind, replaced by the opportunity to gaze into the world and mind of the senior partner.

Maclay was a small weasel of a man whose company he had found less than appealing. Carrying himself with an overwhelming sense of his own importance, the man had reacted to Hyatt's job offer with the air of one being inconvenienced. The junior associate was used to people falling all over themselves to be of use to the firm. But he had finally found the mage’s price and that had changed his manner quickly enough. Everyone has his price. It had just been a matter of finding it.

But he was worried. What had the senior partner been up to -- meeting a non-player like Maclay? Was Holland following up on his project? Had he made a mistake?

When he saw Manners reach into his jacket and pause, he had hoped the action would prove harmful to the loathsome little man. He suddenly had unrealistic hopes that he was about to see the senior partner kill someone by his own hand. Maclay had appeared perturbed and impatient. Finally Holland passed him a small envelope, holding onto it despite Maclay’s eager hands. He had leaned towards the weasel of a man and, smiling as he did so, said something … no … he had asked a question and only released his hold on the envelope once Maclay had nodded.

Now sitting at his desk eight hours later, Hyatt tried to piece together all that had happened with everything else he had recently learned about Holland Manners and Angel. But he couldn't believe what he thought it meant. 'The senior partner would never ... Why would he do something so opposed to the policy of the firm?'

Hyatt reached out for the telephone, not at all sure if what he was about to do was such a good idea. But he shook his doubts aside. He’d been the one to bring this project to near completion with no support, no guiding hand but his own. Hadn’t he earned a little autonomy?

* * * *

“Are you sure you wanna try this?” Xander asked, his concern obvious.

“I have to. I need to know she’s okay,” Willow explained, “And she needs to know we’re coming.” She could feel something close to desperation building within her. She needed to reach out and feel her beloved. It was as if her heart was hungry for any small part of Buffy it could have.

Taking a look at her face Xander sighed. “Okay, Will. I get where you’re coming from,” he replied before voicing in his own fears. “But what if it doesn’t work? What if she can’t answer to let you know she’s okay, that she heard you? You’re gonna get wigged. Your head will be full of doubt. The last thing we need is our Wiccan Slayer with a mind full of holes. Stuff falls through them. Not a good thing while you’re trying to control new magics, especially with the new temporary magic partner you have. General Swiss Cheese at the Little Big Horn - not an appealing image.”

“I will not. I know what I have to do,” Willow declared, annoyed by her oldest friend’s negativity. She knew she could do this. And so should he! “I can control how I feel. I’ve been doing that for years,” she reminded him. “When we get this rescue going, there will be no holes in my cheese,” she stated with such determination that her choice of words took a moment to sink in.

Xander bit the inside of his lip, determined not to give into the mental picture of Willow’s body with a big lump of Swiss cheese as her head and a confederate hat set at a rakish tilt.

* * * *

Wesley wallowed in mounting frustration. He was unable to do anything but watch as Angel was held securely inside the globe of blue light. It was so bright that he could only just make out the two figures within it.

Why hadn’t he stopped Angel from getting so close to a man versed in the dark magics? ‘I should have warned him. As if he would have listened,’ he thought to himself, well aware that Angel’s eyes normally glazed over whenever he tried to explain the results and hypotheses gleaned from his research or ex-watcher based instincts.

And so he stood feeling useless and ineffectual as his anger rose and his patience waned. ‘Surely it has to collapse soon. This can’t be how the man intends to escape.’ But just as he was about to scream in frustration at the world, the glow seemed to shift from blue to a pale green.

* * * *

Buffy could hear the faint sounds of raised voices. But without her slayer hearing she had little hope of making out what her captors were arguing about.

This whole “you’re a normal girl” thing was really starting to tick her off. Okay maybe she had once … okay, more than once … wished she was just a normal girl. But that thought had long ago been replaced with the internal promise she had made to stop people from dying at the hands of vampires and demons. Then she’d had to tell her mother. Somehow that had made it more permanent and real than it had been before. She no longer fostered the illusion of growing old. She just didn’t think about it. Most of the time she didn’t think more than one month ahead; she had become the poster girl for – “one day at a time”.

But now there was Willow. Her dear sweet, sexy, loyal Willow. And she had, indeed, begun to think ahead, planning, worrying and doubting their future. She had now been considering a future, not alone, but with someone. The last time she’d done that Angel had left and shattered her fragile dreams.

Smiling, she realized that she didn’t need to worry that Willow would ever leave her. They might end up forever friends, with an awkward moment in their past that they didn’t talk about. But Willow would always be there for her - that she knew for sure. This knowledge filled her with strength and amusement. She’d always known who she would spend her life with. She just hadn’t realized the circumstances. Maybe Faith hadn’t been that far off the mark.

* * * *

Reviewing the details of the prophecy, Hyatt’s mind went into meltdown. ‘What the hell is he up to?’ he asked himself, almost missing the next part of Kelly’s impromptu history of the Amulet that Holland Manners had removed from “Recent Acquisitions”.

“Fine. They’re linking this thing to Angel just as we predicted they would,” he stated impatiently, only to have Kelly hesitate and extrapolate rather than simply confirm his statement. He hated theories and the indecision they produced. He wanted cold hard facts, something he could rely on, not the interpretations of some tealeaf reader covering his or her own back. But Kelly wasn’t any more willing to put her head on the proverbial chopping block than the historians had obviously been.

“Okay, okay. He’s the odds-on favorite. No one else appears to fit the prophecy now that I’ve knocked the bleached blond vampire out of the game,” he stated. But something gnawed at him, the sudden feeling that all his plans were being undermined coursing through his veins. His whole plan B was focused on Angel getting this Amulet and then being forced to make the ultimate sacrifice to stop the apocalypse. But Holland Manners had just taken the Amulet and given it away. If this ruined his back-up plan, then keeping the sun from rising and causing the apocalypse would depend completely on the Witch and the Slayer not being able to break the spell in time.

Something Kelly said caught his attention. “What?”

“As I said, there has been a new development. When the group gathered to review Vijay’s findings, they … well they interpreted the final part of the prophecy somewhat differently,” she stated, pausing before delivering what she obviously viewed as bad news. “They now think that if the one described in the prophecy succeeds in using the Amulet to stop the apocalypse he wouldn’t die. Instead he could become mortal again and walk in the sunlight,” Kelly informed him, her voice trailing off.

“What???” Hyatt exclaimed, as he mentally let his jaw drop.

* * * *

Willow began to focus her mind on the woman that now fully occupied the center of her heart. She needed to know that Buffy was okay. But most of all, she needed to know that she was still alive. Even though she hoped and believed that she would instinctively know if anything ever happened to Buffy, self-doubt still forced her to accept the possibility that this might not be the case. She, therefore, had to remove all doubt before starting the rescue attempt.

She had locked herself in the bathroom in the hope of having some peace and quiet. But she could still hear the rest of the gang moving around the apartment and talking. Certain that she was the main topic of their conversation she fought the urge to retreat into her shell and block out all that meant. Over the last few days she had been the center of attention in a way that she wasn’t at all that comfortable with. She could feel her old demons – low esteem, uncertainty, self-doubt, panic and paranoia rearing their ugly heads. She had thought those were gone forever; Buffy had helped her get through them. She wasn’t designed to have everyone peeking into her life and second-guessing her every move. How on earth did Buffy cope?

Sorrow filled her as she realized that the one person she wanted to talk to and share all of this with was the one person not here. Gulping, she refused to let either the anger or the fear grab hold of her. ‘Concentrate,’ she ordered herself and closing her eyes she began to focus herself.

Drawing just enough mystical energy together into a core around her heart, she mentally lifted it towards the location of her third eye, allowing only one word to enter her mind - ‘Buffy.’

* * * *

Holland Manners gazed at the entrance to Remal’s vault. He really hated this place. Even though he knew he was still in the firm’s building, he always felt as if he was about to use a portal and jump dimensions. Laughing at himself, he reached out and pushed open the door.

The room before him was dimly lit by candles and its hanging fabrics created large shadowy nooks and corners like something from a poorly lit black and white desert movie. But the man that came from the shadows was no Rudolph Valentino. He was a fully grown demon of the second order.

“Holland? So soon?” Remal queried, his pitch black eyebrow rising and his sharpened horns glinting in the candle light.

“Remal, you look well rested,” Holland stated, forcing a friendly smile.

“Thank you. Yes, I am,” the demon replied and gesturing towards a pile of scattered cushions, he beckoned the senior partner into his abode. “How may I be of assistance?”

Moving towards the cushions, Manners felt the door close behind him. Glancing at the cushions he located one he thought he’d be able to rise from after their discussion had ended. Lowering himself he began, “Events have unfolded much as you said they would. Please pass my thanks on to your sister. Her foresight has proved invaluable.”

“I am glad we could be of help. Our exchanges have benefited us well over the years, have they not?” Remal questioned.

Recognizing his question as nothing more than the need to ratify the contract he had signed so many decades ago, Holland smiled, “Indeed they have.”

Remal nodded and, taking a cushion himself, he smiled - his shark like teeth almost glowing in the candlelight. “His Sire’s remains have been relocated and soon the death killer will be tempted to break the bonds of her creators. Has the Amulet been dealt with?”

“Yes and it will soon be destroyed,” Holland affirmed, unable to help the small shiver of uncertainty from crossing his mind.

“You have reservations?” the demon asked, staring questioningly at the senior partner. Sometimes these humans amused him. “Do you wish my sister had not told you of what was to come, of your own demise at the hands of his Sire?” he asked unable to keep the frustration from his voice.

“No reservations! Just the caution of mortality. As an immortal, caution may mean nothing to you but, then again, had I been immortal you would have killed me at birth,” Holland stated in a matter of fact tone showing no resentment.

Remal simply nodded.

* * * *

Her eyelids were so heavy. Maybe if she just closed them for a moment. ‘No!’ She had to be ready … ready for what? While trying to reposition herself, she had managed to loosen the rope around her wrists but in doing so she had simply tightened the ropes around her ankles to the point where she began to wonder if she would be able to walk.

A buzzing noise seemed to invade her aching temples and she shook her head, momentarily closing her eyes against the sound. ‘No! I gotta stay awake.’ But the noise came back and this time louder, pounding against her forehead. She allowed her head to drop, screwing her eyes up and wishing she was able to cover her ears.

Slowly she began to imagine the buzzing was familiar, that it made sense somehow. Were there words hidden in it? Straining her tired mind, she tried to filter out the buzzing sound.

[B---- --’re co---- -o ge- --o. Can --o -ear me]

‘There, that was … what?’

[Bu--- we’-- -oming –o ge- -ou. Ar- --o –ay……….]

‘Concentrate, it’s almost … Willow?’

[Buff- can –o –ear m-?]

‘Willow? Yes, yes I can hear you,’ she almost screamed with her mind as her heart nearly exploded and fresh tears, this time of joy, began to form in her eyes. ‘Oh Willow, are you okay? Where are they holding you?’

[Buffy can you hear me? We’re coming to get you. Are you okay?]

‘Willow?’

[Buffy can you hear me?]

“WILLOW!” Buffy screamed out loud, as she realized that although she could hear her true love, she could not reply. Her momentary joy fell to earth, crashing about her.

[Buffy, if you can hear me - the answer is -YES.]

* * * *

“How’s she doing?” Cordelia asked sitting down next to Faith.

“She’ll cope. There are issues,” Faith laughed, “like that’s news! But she’s got it under control. Red’s tougher than she looks.”

“Good,” Cordelia affirmed quickly setting that aside before she added, “And you?”

“I’m five by five,” Faith assured her.

“Oh yeah. The infamous ‘five by five’ mega cool Faith statement. And who the hell is ever gonna ask you what it means? Oh duh – that would be me,” Cordelia declared sending Faith her best blinding smile, eyes wide open in expectation.

The Dark Slayer was speechless for a moment; entranced by the sheer power of the smile she was being offered. ‘Damn, has she got any idea how stunning that thing is?’ Leaning back as casually as she could manage, she laughed before recovering from her silence and offering Cordy what she hoped was a smile of mystery. “But honey, I thought you liked a little mystery?”

“I get enough of that day to day. Seriously, what does five by five mean? Aside from like how to make a square,” the Seer asked grinning.

“See, first I lose my mystery and now I’m a square. That’s why a girl should always keep her mystery,” Faith stated, throwing Cordelia a suggestive wink.

“Don’t you trust me?” Cordelia asked in all seriousness. “I thought that by now, you know, after all we’ve been through … all that’s about to happen …” she paused remembering that tonight Faith was going to put herself in harm’s way.

Thrown by Cordelia’s sudden change in mood, Faith found herself staring into the depths of those chestnut brown eyes. She could read the sudden sincere concern filling them directed at her and she could almost feel her heart stop.

“Afraid I’ll betray you somehow, huh? I guess you’ve had some major letdowns on the friend front … but I thought that we’d moved passed that?” Cordelia explained, as her throat began to go dry under the heat of Faith’s gaze. She needed to know that she meant something more to Faith than just another acquaintance, just another chapter in her life. She needed to know that the friendship they had built was more than just a passing thing.

“We have. It’s not that,” Faith assured her. “I do trust you … I mean I want to. I just didn’t think it mattered to you if I …”

“It matters. It more than matters, actually,” Cordelia interrupted. “Who knows why considering how ‘valley girl’ you can sometimes be. Hey, it’s not like I’m after your fashion secrets,” she blurted out brashly, unnerved to find herself stumbling over her words and breaking eye contact. Gathering her thoughts, she made the decision to say what she meant. “I like knowing things about you that no one else does. It’s kind of cool. It makes me feel like we … like we have something … you know … a special friendship. I’ve never had someone who … but it’s no big. If you don’t want to let me in … I mean, just tell me.”

“Hey, you are … special … I mean we do have … at least I thought we … I’d like to think we’ve … become … friends,” Faith finally managed, reaching forward to gently place a reassuring hand on Cordelia’s arm. “All this new stuff gets me a bit turned around … you know?” she asked, not really expecting a response. “Five by five - you wanna know what it means? Fine. But it’s gonna be a letdown,” she warned, knitting her eyebrows together in mock distress.

“You haven’t let me down yet,” Cordelia stated, throwing her a shy smile. “I like the idea of sharing a secret with you.”

Faith couldn’t help laughing, “You, me and half the armed forces.”

“What?”

“Five by Five is a military radio term. It means that the signal strength and clarity have both scored five out of a possible five; so ‘five by five’,” Faith paused to take in the disbelieving look on Cordelia’s face. “Okay, so the whole cruising navy bars is now out of my system,” she assured her before adding, “it’s like saying – loud & clear or A-Okay.”

Cordelia stared at her. “Seriously? That’s all it means?”

“Yep. Kinda square, huh?” she asked, pulling a childish grin across her features. “Guess it loses the cool in translation.”

“Yeah!” Cordelia laughed. “Kinda. What were you - a radio ham groupie? Okay, now I get the secret. SO not going tell anyone that I know someone who knows radio geeks. Yeeeck. So NOT cool,” she stated in mock horror.

“Happy now?” Faith asked, not sure why it was that this gorgeous person could get her to talk about … well … just about anything.

“Trust me sweetheart, I’m taking that one to the grave,” Cordelia assured her placing her hand upon Faith’s and squeezing gently before breaking into a similarly childish grin.

* * * *

Wesley moved forward in anticipation. The glow was definitely changing color. It was almost all green and he thought he could see a faint whisp of yellow now beginning to form at the base of the gleaming globe.

Then he saw Angel’s head move as if he was about to fall backwards and concern filled him. He moved closer again, positioning himself behind Angel’s attacker. Careful to stay away from the apparent faded edge of the globe, he wondered if it would simply shrink or evaporate. He was pretty sure Angel was going to fall once released but the fall wouldn’t hurt the vampire. So he wanted to be ready to take this guy by surprise as soon as the globe allowed him to.

Unexpectedly, the globe began to move quickly towards him. Caught in it, his motions became lethargic and pained. He tried to move backwards to escape its influence to no avail. Before he had the opportunity to see that it had split in two, the short man had simply stepped from it, turning to smile at Wesley’s predicament before disappearing. One minute he was there, the next he was gone.

The sound of Angel’s body falling to the alley’s floor broke Wesley’s vacant gaze of surprise as the globe dissipated around them. Pulling himself together and realizing he too had been released, he rushed to Angel’s side.

* * * *

Buffy gulped, her mind reeling from ‘now I’m having waking dreams’ to ‘Jeez, she said Yes!’ Her mind exploded with joy and confusion. It had sounded like Willow – but had she wanted it to be Willow? Maybe she was just having a sleep-deprived illusion? ‘How could Willow send me a message? … Of course … MAGIC?’

Her mind went blank as her heart felt like it was bursting. The sudden influx of hope and joy was too much for her mind to take. Willow had said Yes. She had actually said yes … and they were coming to save her. ‘Hold on! If they’re coming to save me and Willow knows … that means she’s safe. She wasn’t taken. OK, but why wasn’t she taken? Why was I taken … Oh Wow - she said yes … YES!’ A silly grin spread its childlike happiness across her face.

Had one of her guards looked in at that moment, they would have thought the girl had gone mad because she was smiling, laughing and crying all at the same time.

* * * *

Giles couldn’t help smiling as Anya and Xander attempted to make his toolbox fit into the now completely jammed trunk of his car. They had now tried it at least six different ways but none of these had allowed the trunk to close.

“Move that over there,” Xander instructed as he pulled out a sword.

“It won’t work. The axe sticks out too far,” Anya responded, placing her hands on her hips.

Giles was reminded of the time he watched his two great aunts packing for a long weekend in the Lake District. As had occurred every Easter, he had watched as they attempted to pack every thing including the kitchen sink - Aunty Mary adding more and more, Aunty Maud tut-tutting but making no attempt to stop her. The final task of sitting on the suitcase lid and bouncing, in the often vain hope that his weight would help to close the case, had become a childish sense of joy back then. But right now he was quickly replacing amusement with disbelief. ‘Didn’t they have a clue when to give up?’

“Well, just wiggle it up and down a bit. We only need a little more room,” Xander sighed in exasperation.

“Wiggling won’t do any good. The box is too wide,” Anya informed him, her tone becoming sharper with each response.

Standing upright Xander glared at the offending box. “Well it has to. We can’t leave it behind. I need it to jerry rig the equipment.”

Giles couldn’t stand it any longer. He stepped forward, reached into the trunk of the car and removed the toolbox. “One can’t help but wonder why, if all empirical evidence shows that this won’t fit into the trunk, why you haven’t considered just placing it on someone’s lap?”

* * * *

Willow stood slowly, shaken and drained by the emotions she had picked up from Buffy. She had used telepathy before. She’d been able to hear Xander and Anya. Why couldn’t she hear Buffy? She’d tried refocusing, shifting her center. Nothing seemed to help.

Maybe she’d been foolish to hope that her beloved would be able to respond. She could tell that Buffy’s emotional state was pretty stressed and shaky. What if she hadn’t allowed Buffy time to acquire the focus that would have been needed? She should have factored that in. She felt frustration building within her. Goddess, how she wanted her skills back and her talents, not these borrowed ones.

Glancing at the mirror at the face of the woman she loved, a feeling of sadness and loss came over her. ‘Oh Buffy, I tried.’ Buffy’s emotions had been so stretched, it was as if she had been refusing to let go, as if something was holding her. ‘She’s kept herself awake,’ Willow realized, ‘But why? There was nothing she could do. She had to know we’d come for her.’

Uncertainty flew into her mind, coupled with the terrifying thought that Buffy had doubted her; that she had somehow accepted that she was alone, that no help was coming. What if she’d been staying awake so that she didn’t miss an opening, a way out? ‘How could she think I wouldn’t … that we wouldn’t come for her … find her? No way’ she rebuked herself, ‘Buffy would never leave us and we would never leave her. She knows that.’ It was like a Scooby rule or something.

Leaving the bathroom, Willow set her chin allowing her determination to rescue Buffy to become her only focus. The apartment door opened and Giles, Xander and Anya walked in. Glancing first at them and then at Cordelia and Faith, she nodded. “So, are we ready?”

* * * *

Holland Manners wasn’t at all sure if Ramal had accepted the importance of his warning. That was the problem with non-human business associates – differing frames of reference. Absently he wondered if he should schedule a short workshop on interspecies relations.

Glancing at his watch, he smiled. By now Angel would be minus a very powerful tool intended for his use only. Despite what that silly love struck vampire had assumed, he would never be allowed to use it. Angel’s use of the Amulet would have eventually caused this branch of the firm to be transferred to the vampire. No matter who used it, there were two things Holland intended to avoid - Angel getting his hands on Wolfram and Hart was one; the other being his own early demise at the hands of Angel’s sire, Darla.

By removing the magic from the Amulet and giving it to that little worm Maclay, he had removed the focal point for a whole chain of events. It often amazed him that so many of his junior colleagues still persisted in seeing things in a two-dimensional cause and effect manner. This was multi-dimensional; it involved ripples. Angel’s effect on the firm was like a multi-layered cake. And he had just removed the raising agent that would have allowed this to happen.

* * * *

Xander reviewed the layout he had seen earlier when doing reconnaissance with Faith, trying to recall as many details of the hideout as he could. He was aware that timing would be essential. He just hoped that Willow could keep up with the pace Faith had set when she’d tried a partial dry run against his advice. The area didn’t have much cover, and distraction and diversion were going to be their greatest weapons.

He’d given Anya a big hug before guiding her into the back seat with Faith, Cordelia and Willow. Boy, had that been a tight fit. He’d almost made a wisecrack at the sight of Cordelia trying not to end up sitting in Faith’s lap while the Dark Slayer just grinned, but had wisely thought better of it.

Giles had been quieter than he’d expected. Not that the watcher was normally a chatterbox but he usually kicked off something like this with one of his ‘oh so very British’ speeches; like he was channeling that Winston Churchill guy.

Pulling away from the apartment, he couldn’t help giving their apartment a quick glance. Whenever they set off on a mission he always wondered if they would all be coming back. Their luck had been just too good so far. He always feared that one day they would run out of luck and it wouldn’t be the bad guy who didn’t come back – It would be one of them.

While Xander wallowed in the pessimistic world of what might happen, Giles was finding the silence in the car as uncomfortable as the weight of Xander’s toolbox that he was holding across his knees.

They made their way towards the docks in silence with only one interruption from Anya to check that everyone had been to the bathroom. She had then informed them that there had been some great battle that Alexander the Great had won only because the opposing troops had poor bladder control.

He had been tempted to go back over the plan but a warning look from Cordelia told him that to do so with bring down her wrath. One look at Willow’s determined features had assured him that her mind was on mission. He couldn’t be so sure of his own mind however, as his ever-present concern for Buffy flooded back.

Entering the main storage area of the docks, Xander had parked the car a good two blocks away from the warehouse. As everyone unloaded and assembled at the rear of the car, Giles was filled with the need to say something to Willow but nothing came to mind. So he reached over to place a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

Willow spun around at him and for a moment he thought he was about to be attacked. The look on her face was only thinly concealed and he recognized it easily – Slayer Rage! He had seen it before – in Buffy and, especially, in Faith. “Willow?”

“I’m okay,” she responded quickly, turning away from him.

“Willow, you need to center yourself. If you let that anger and rage rule you, I am certain that there will be a loss of control, a loss of focus,” Giles instructed her, shifting back into his Watcher role with comfortable ease.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him, taking a deep breath and becoming more than a little annoyed with herself for letting Giles know just how tightly strung she really was.

“I’m glad you feel confident. One would be even more concerned if you did not but Willow, you really must take some time to focus,” he advised, turning to place the toolbox on the roof of the car.

Irritated, Willow snapped, “We don’t have time for chanting, crystals and Kumbaya. We need to get Buffy out of there.”

“And unless pasty white is going to become next season’s new formal black I vote we do just that before sunrise,” Cordelia interjected, stepping forward to stand beside Willow. “So let’s skip the ‘wise old man’ speech and get on with it. OK?”

Realizing that Cordelia was right, Xander stepped forward. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that I’ve had enough of the planning. We all know what we have to do. So let’s get on with the doing. Will knows what she needs to do and she’ll do it. Now grab that toolbox and follow me.”

* * * *

Buffy closed her eyes and smiled. Somehow the fear of falling asleep was now gone. She was more awake than she’d been in ages. Her mind felt like a night at the bronze; so many conversations, she almost couldn’t listen to just the one thought.

‘They were coming to get her. How exactly were they planning to do that? Did Faith have anything to do with it?’

Then she froze at the sound of footsteps. ‘So soon?’ But they passed by her. ‘Just a guard.’

‘Willow said yes!’ They were going to date. But they couldn’t date; they were running out of time. But the ‘yes’ was a good sign. That meant she really cared for her, didn’t it? That they had a chance. That she wanted her. That she wanted more that just friendship. ‘Didn’t it?’

The footsteps were back. ‘Seems like I’ve got my own personal guard. Oh, how sweet.’

* * * *

As Xander took possession of his toolbox, Giles glanced over at the machinery - a bulldozer, a dump truck, an earth digger. Then he saw it – a wrecking ball. A flood of childhood memories overwhelmed him. He’d watched builders demolish his school’s old gymnasium when he should have been paying attention to a series of lectures on post-modern art. And all he had thought was how satisfying it must be to vent all your anger in such an accepted and legal but destructive act.

Turning to Xander, he paused ‘I can’t ask. What will he think?’ Blinking slightly he turned away again.

“Okay, Anya I need you to take this and wait for me by that earth digger. Giles take this and head over to the…”

Giles mentally crossed his fingers.

“Dump truck and wait for me. I’m going to sort out that bulldozer.”

Ignoring the disappointment he felt, Giles couldn’t help asking, “What about that wrecking ball? Surely that could do a lot of damage?”

“Naah. No good. It takes too long to set up and move into position,” Xander advised him, smirking. “We’re after speed and surprise here, G-man. So it’s big wheels and tonnage.”

* * * *

Wesley cradled the limp figure of Angel in his arms and wondered if he’d be able to drag the vampire to the car by himself. Then again maybe if he just waited long enough, the big guy would come to. It had taken quite sometime for the last of the globe to dissipate and release him. By that time Wesley knew that he had no chance of catching the little worm of a man who had been responsible for all this.

Glancing up and down the alley he realized that he had spent one too many evenings in the back alleys of LA. ‘I really need to visit a park or the ocean.’ Shrugging aside his internal reflections at the path his life had taken, he looked back down at Angel. ‘Oh well.’

Raising his hand he landed a well-placed slap onto his colleague’s right cheek. Having braced himself for a reaction, he exhaled when nothing happened. Raising his hand again, he wondered how long this was going to take.

Seven or eight slaps later, he gave up and bent over to grab Angel under his arms. He took a deep breath and exhaled.

“Uhhhh!” Angel muttered.

“What?” Wesley blurted, as relief washed over him.

“You work with me and you eat garlic?” Angel asked, slowly opening his eyes to throw Wesley an accusing look.

Instinctively searching his memory, Wesley nodded apologetically, “Must have been that pizza last night.”

“Ahh … the dangers of fast food,” Angel commented looking around. “Okay, why am I still on the ground?”

Standing up Wesley smiled. “Long story,” he replied, not sure how to begin.

“I’m guessing it involved that short guy,” Angel stated as he tried to turn over.

Wesley nodded, “Mostly.”

“So, and I’m just continuing the guessing here, would that also be why I can’t seem to move?” Angel asked, his annoyance very evident.

“That would probably be the blue globe thing he threw around the two of you,” Wesley advised him.

“Great. Assuming mini-Merlin is long gone, am I staying here until I can walk or did you have a plan?”

* * * *

Willow followed Faith, her heart thumping so loudly in anticipation that it resounded in her ears. ‘We’re coming, my darling,’ she telepathically shouted, desperate to make contact despite the fact that she would be seeing Buffy very soon. She could feel the power building as she gave her borrowed slayer powers free reign.

“Keep low,” Faith instructed her as they reached a low cement bank topped by a wire fence. “There’s not much cover from this point on but we can get closer if we’re careful. Then it’s up to the X-man and his ego-sized toys.”

Crouching down low, Willow tried to run but the position was so unfamiliar and uncomfortable that the best she could manage was a loping trot. She could see Faith pulling away from her and disappointment filled her but shaking her head, she refused to allow it to stay. ‘Why should I be able to keep up with her? She’s a real slayer. I’m just some ‘G I Jane Slayer’ wannabe without the years of experience she and Buffy have had. I’ve only been doing this for a week, for goodness sake. I mean, you need years of experience, don’t you? Slayers are like the Special Ops of the Hellmouth and all things dark and scary. That’s why they do all that one-on-one training, learning how to build a bridge from six egg cartons and a box of matches or how to slay a demon with a cotton ball and four Barbie pins if they had to. I’m just a witch with some borrowed powers and a couple of training sessions. Gotta keep it real. So I can’t keep up with Faith - Big Deal!! As Anya would say - I have other skills. Damn it, Giles was right. I need to focus.’

* * * *

Buffy remained alert while waiting for Willow, the others and her rescue. She tried to relax as much as possible considering the discomfort of the restraints on her hands and feet. If only she had her slayer strength, she could have easily gotten out of them.

‘I don’t understand how Willow can have my slayer abilities and still be able to use her magical powers to speak to me but I can’t do anything. Why can’t I use her magic to make her hear me … to help with my rescue? I know I’m nowhere near as smart as she is but … I mean … I used to help her with her spells … at the beginning.’ She tried to calm down. She couldn’t afford to miss anything.

Then she remembered something. ‘Wait a sec. Didn’t I already use magic? After Willow and the gang rescued me from Dracula … I am so getting tired of having to be rescued. Faith was there too, even though we didn’t see her … she dusted him for us … she …’ Closing her eyes, she shook her head trying to clear it so that she could get back to the elusive memory. ‘When those three crazy girl vamps attacked us … Willow was down, hurt … they were trying to kill her. Something happened … but what exactly?’ She paused for a moment trying to remember.

‘They caught fire. Did I … could I have done that? And then … then … Willow was carrying me back to the dorms and taking care of me … like she always does.’ She smiled at the thought for a moment, but soon started to think back about that night again. She remembered the heat; it had been inside her. And somehow … somehow she’d let it out – How? The Sirens had burst into flame. She had done it. She knew she had. But how? If she could do that, surely she should be able to answer Willow’s call.

She was furious with herself, frustrated that she couldn’t remember … that she couldn’t make herself heard by Willow.

* * * *

Xander worked his way across the now dark building site to the dump truck where Giles awaited him. Setting Anya up with the earth digger had taken longer than he’d expected despite his belief that it was the easiest of all the machines to operate. Damn it, why hadn’t he moved the machines closer when he’d had the chance? ‘Because I’m so not suicidal boy. The guys with guns gave me the scaredy shakes.’

The resigned look on Giles’ face confused him for a moment, but then he saw the wistful glance at the wrecking ball and he allowed himself a little smile, amused that the G-man had apparently hoped to get something a bit more … macho. Who would have guessed? Shrugging aside his amusement, he swung his tool kit onto the waist high cab step and removing the pliers and wire cutters, he closed the box and placed it below the cab step. Then he made his way towards the rear of the vehicle.

“Okay, Anya’s all set. If you could get yourself into the cab, I’ll be up in a minute to give you one-on-one instruction. Should be easy considering the stick shift you’re used to.”

* * * *

Slim hated this waiting. It was always the worst part of any job or battle. Nothing prepared you for the strain on your nerves, the temptation of paranoia. And nighttime just intensified these feelings - the seemingly whispering gusts of wind and moving shadows filling your mind with dread, anticipation and false starts.

He’d seen a few guys lose it in Senegal, and one rookie had set off a firefight with a colleague who had repositioned. Waiting was almost as dangerous as fighting because you don’t have a focus, a target, something to release all your anticipation and adrenalin at.

Dorgan might be a dork but at least he knew that he gave the guys someone to vent their frustrations at. Slim had been with some commanders who didn’t have a clue what their men were going through, let alone care. It was clear that Dorgan fixated on the little things as if knowing that if he did his job well, his men would allow their pent-up frustrations to be directed toward his obsessions. But Slim wasn’t about to thank him for his efforts. He had the guys’ back and that was enough.

Suddenly he thought he spotted something moving over to the left and … a flash of … skin? His changed his focus and repositioned his night vision goggles in the hope that a small adjustment would somehow help. But he couldn’t see anything. The shadow by that loading bay was pitch black and so far from any street light that nothing seemed able to penetrate its depths.

* * * *

Faith stood on the loading bay, ignoring the uncomfortable feeling that she was out in the open. She’d realized during her earlier visit that this bay was in dark shadows and that you’d have to be less than twenty feet from it before you’d be able to make out anything on it.

Glancing behind her, she noticed Willow, who was crouched down at the back of the bay peering out into the night, with the unmistakable anticipation and tingling nerves that Faith knew so well.

“Well, that was the easy part. Now it’s up to the diversionary crew,” she stated.

“What time is it?” Willow asked.

“I dunno,” Faith said glancing at her wrist before remembering that she didn’t have a watch. “Why?”

“Because Xander said three o’clock,” Willow reminded her.

“I’m kinda guessing that once Xander kicks off we’re gonna know about it,” the Dark Slayer observed. “It’s like a library out here. Someone drops a pin and we’re gonna hear it.”

Willow smiled and nodded, somewhat strangely amused at having the site of her first real test as a temporary slayer described as a library. Recalling the early years and the many hours they had spent in the school library. Little had she imagined back then that what they had begun in those early days would be the backbone of their current lives.

Standing before her was the woman she had once thought of as a possible new part of the group, then as a mortal enemy and, if she was honest, as the one she viewed as the only real competition for her place in Buffy’s affections. And now they were together, trusting each other, needing to work together to save the woman they had once competed for and who was still so important to both of them.

“Faith?” Willow called, not at all certain of what she really wanted to say.

“Yeah,” Faith responded, turning back from the intense lookout she had taken up.

Pausing in her scramble for the right words that would sum up how she was feeling, Willow gave up and allowed her scrambled mind free reign. “I’m glad you’re here. It seems right somehow that we do this together,” she said simply.

Faith dropped her eyes despite the fact that Willow probably couldn’t see them and, rather emotionally, was barely able to speak. “Oh hell, Red … Newsflash - I’m not much good at this stuff. And let’s face it, most of the time whatever I do want to say only comes out half right or totally wrong. So can we leave it at – Ditto?”

Affected more than she wanted to admit, Willow simply nodded and offered a succinct “Sure.”

They both understood.

* * * *

“Oh you’ve got to be joking!” Xander exclaimed under his breath, throwing his pliers to the ground and then, bending down to rescue them.

“Excuse me?” Giles questioned, poking his head out from inside the cab.

“What kinda paranoid freak takes the ignition leads home at night?” Xander grumbled, pointing at the engine housing as if Giles could see just what he was talking about. Sighing in exaggerated frustration, he glanced back at Anya and then at Giles. “Okay, okay we improvise. That’s what we do. I’m good with the off-the-cuff stuff.”

“You are?” Giles muttered before he could help himself.

“Snide quips - Not helping,” Xander advised the watcher, who was now getting down from the cab, having realized his vehicle wasn’t going anywhere, least of all to war. “Okay. Anya has the earth digger. No way I’m re-educating this ‘Rita’ now. I’m on the bull – which has a tow bar!” Xander realized. “Brilliant! A little clumsy but brilliant,” he asserted before throwing Giles what appeared a slightly insane smile.

Giles stared at the young man in complete confusion. He knew that what he was listening to was pretty much a verbal expression of Xander’s thought pattern but, none the less, it reminded him of his first Latin lesson. Totally unintelligible.

* * * *

It had to have been almost half an hour since they’d left Xander, but they were still sitting here, waiting, stinking of these damn spice bags. Sugar and spice, everything nice - NOT. ‘What the hell did she put in here?’ Faith wondered as her patience began to wear thin. “How long has it been?” Faith asked irritably, “What’s he doing? Building a rocket?”

“Xander will get here. He won’t let us down,” Willow declared, despite feeling a little less confident than she knew she sounded.

“Yeah, yeah … I know,” Faith assured her, kicking at thin air. “I just hate the waiting … you know?”

“Believe me when I say – getting there,” Willow agreed with her. Then a soft rumbling came to their ears. “Listen,” she exclaimed, pointing out into the darkness and in the general direction of the building site. She could almost make out the movement of the sound … east to west.

Then Faith saw it. “You’ve gotta be kidding me!” she exclaimed.


If you have enjoyed Alicorn's "Switcheroony - Part Seven", then please be certain to  Contact The Writer  and thank her for posting this Story.

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