Trust

by Rob Sorenson

Chapter Thirty-four

 

 

Dawn looked around frantically. “Faith?! Faith!!”

 

Spike had been briefly stunned by the bright flash that had accompanied her disappearance; after taking a moment to rub his eyes, he spun to face Riley.

 

“What the hell-“

 

“I don’t know.” Riley answered, still stunned himself.

 

Angel appeared from the driver’s seat. “What’s the holdup?”

 

“Faith!” Dawn yelled, feeling herself edging toward panic. “She’s gone!”

 

“Gone? Gone where?”

 

“I don’t…Spike, did you see-“

 

“Bright flash, is all.”

 

Wesley and Gunn came hustling in. “Hey, we motoring or what?” Gunn said impatiently.

 

Dawn clutched Wesley’s arm. “We have to find her!”

 

He frowned. “Find-“

 

“We don’t have time.” Angel said softly, running his fingers through his hair.

 

“What?! How can you say-“

 

“Because we don’t!!” Angel shouted. “Dammit, we might already be too late!”

 

Dawn’s eyes filled with tears. “Angel…it’s Faith.”

 

“I know.” He swallowed hard to collect himself. “And I swear to you we’ll turn over heaven and earth to find her…but we can’t right now.”

 

Wesley put a hand on Dawn’s shoulder. “Dawn-“

 

She shrugged it away. “Go.”

 

Keeping her eyes on Angel, she tossed her katana toward him and retrieved one of Faith’s weapons from the concrete floor. Angel caught the sword with ease and nodded.

 

“Everybody load up!”

 

Dawn brushed past him. “I’ll ride with Gunn.”

 

Angel said nothing, simply clambering back into his convertible, shortly followed by Wes, Cordy and Spike, who quickly threw a blanket over his head and laid down. No one said a word for several minutes as Angel concentrated on weaving through traffic, once risking a trip into a lane of oncoming traffic to catch a green light. The pitch of the horns rose and fell as they whistled past.

 

“You were right.” Wesley finally said.

 

Angel breathed deeply, trying to control the surge of panic from the first solar exposure he’d experienced in years. “If anything…” He cleared his throat. “If anything happens-“

 

“We’ll find her. Even if it’s NOT heaven or earth.” Spike interrupted softly. Angel, briefly forgetting himself, glanced into the rearview mirror. Finding no eyes to meet, he re-focused on the road, sending shards of plastic flying as his fist met the dashboard.

 

***************************************

 

“I believe the time I’ve spent in this dimension has caused my manners to erode.” Giles said with a mildly amused expression. “Faith, I’ve neglected to greet you.”

 

Faith pointed at him, her eyes slightly squinted. “Right. Giles. As in…” She glanced at Buffy and Willow, then back to him. “Dead Giles?”

 

“That’s the one.” Buffy confirmed.

 

“Right. So…what’s shakin’?”

 

Giles tilted his head slightly. “At the moment, I believe you are.”

 

Faith looked down at her quivering hands. “Huh. Go figure.”

 

“I understand-“

 

“Do you? Funny, I can’t imagine you knowing what it feels like to be…” She trailed off.

 

“Pregnant.” Willow finished softly.

 

Faith nodded.

 

“It takes some time to grow into it.”

 

“Tell me about it.” Buffy agreed, choosing to ignore Willow’s attempt at breaking the Guinness record for worst…pun…ever. “Morning sickness? Believe the hype.”

 

“Time, unfortunately, is a luxury we do not have.” Giles interrupted gently. “Faith, while I appreciate the sudden nature of all this, you’ve a fight on your hands.”

 

Faith took a breath and squared her shoulders. “Yeah, well…THAT I can deal with. Whose ass do I get to kick?”

 

Giles opened his mouth to respond, but Buffy spoke before he could begin.

 

“Don’t even bother saying it again.” She looked at Faith. “Some stuff about changing the present by going into the past.”

 

“Oh. So we’re goin’ back in time?”

 

“Maybe we’ll get a Delorean.”

 

“No one is journeying through time.” Giles said, irritated. “Yet again, Buffy, you’ve completely misinterpreted my meaning.”

 

“Sorry Giles, but your meanings aren’t exactly Webster’s quality.” She deadpanned.

 

“It wasn’t literal-“

 

“Really? You think so?”

 

“Hey!” Faith interjected. “Just hit me with it again, ok? You’re the one who said we were in a rush.”

 

Giles scowled at Buffy for a moment, then turned to Faith. “My exact words were this: to change the future, one must revisit the past.”

 

Faith stared at him for a second. “Ok, right there with ya, B.”

 

“Toldja.”

 

“Maybe it’s a literary reference. It’s sort of Dickensenian…you know, ghosts from within?” Willow suggested.

 

Faith shook her head. “I’m still thinkin’ H.G. Wells.”

 

Giles sighed heavily. “Sometimes I wonder why I even bother-“ he stopped. “H.G. Wells?”

 

Faith spread her hands. “How many times have I gotta say this? Two words: prison…library. Jesus, so much for the dead watching over us.”

 

“Of course. My apologies again, Faith.” He looked down. “I truly wish I’d taken the time-“

 

“Rupert.” Joyce spoke softly. He nodded.

 

“Right then.” He took one more long look at the three women, finally settling his gaze on Buffy. “Be well.”

 

Buffy found herself smiling. “Sure you don’t want to say good luck?”

 

He returned her smile slowly. “Luck will have nothing to do with it.”

 

Slowly his image faded until there was no evidence he’d been there at all.

 

“Girls.” Joyce glanced at each one of then in turn. “Trust yourselves. Most importantly, trust each other.” At last, she too focused on Buffy. “I love you, honey. Tell Dawn I said the same.”

 

“I love you t-“

 

Joyce was gone before she could finish.

 

None of them said anything for the moment. Finally Faith looked around.

 

“Damn, this place is huge.”

 

“Xander built it.” Willow said quietly. Faith turned to face her, staring at her belly. She motioned hesitantly.

 

“Can I…I mean, while I have a chance-“

 

“Of course.”

 

Faith stepped over to Willow…and hesitated. Buffy reached out and took her hand.

 

“It’s ok. You already touched it once, remember?”

 

Together they pressed against Willow, who put her own hand over theirs. Faith closed her eyes and whispered.

 

“I’m a mom.”

 

“You are now.” Buffy whispered back.

 

“Holy shit.”

 

Willow frowned. “Baby sitting right here.”

 

“Right. Jeez, I gotta start being careful how I talk.”

 

“S’ok. First one’s free.”

 

“So…are we just supposed to wait?” Buffy asked, breaking the spell. Faith reluctantly removed her hand and took another look around the stadium.

 

“I guess. No one here to hit.” She grinned weakly. “Except you.”

 

“Maybe they saw Faith take Xander’s place and decided to quit the field. They lost their advantage.” Willow said hopefully.

 

At that moment thunder began rumbling ominously from above. Faith looked up at the clear blue sky.

 

“I’m thinkin’ adjustment.”

 

****************************************

 

Riley winced slightly as Gunn’s truck hit a bump on the 110 freeway.

 

“New shock absorbers needed, I think.”

 

Fred nodded. “The soul should’ve at least bought a long-term warranty.”

 

Riley nodded back thoughtfully, then frowned. “Say again?”

 

Fred opened her mouth to respond, but Gunn cut her off. “Anyone have a clue as to how we avoid the traffic?”

 

Dawn moved slightly to one side so she could see around Angel’s car. “Actually, I’ve never seen this road so wide open.”

 

“For another couple of miles, maybe. Soon as we hit the Pico exit, though, we’re at a standstill.”

 

Riley checked his watch. “Game tips off in ten minutes.”

 

“And?”

 

“Anyone who’s going will be there by now, right?”

 

Gunn gave Riley a glance. “Obviously you’re not from here. L.A. sports fans generally show up late and leave early.”

 

“But…it’s the finals.”

 

“All the better to be seen when you arrive. Trust me, Captain, we’re getting stuck.”

 

Riley gave a half shrug. “I think we’ll be fine.”

 

Gunn quirked an eyebrow toward Dawn as he changed lanes. “Your friend’s not listening.”

 

Dawn, willing herself to focus on the task at hand, gave Riley a suspicious look.

 

“Actually, I think my friend knows something we don’t. Am I right?”

 

Riley offered a slight smile. “Well, for one thing, I’m a Major.”

 

“Riley-“

 

“Whoa!” Gunn interrupted.

 

Dawn turned back to look at the road and blinked in surprise. Police cruisers were lined up on each side of the Interstate as far as her eyes could see. “I’ve never seen so many cops in one place.”

 

“I never wanted to.” Gunn looked nervously from side to side. As they passed each car, the black and whites pulled out and followed.

 

 

***************************************

 

Buffy squinted. “Ok, mystery thunder can’t be good. Unless there’s a cloud up there I’m missing.”

 

Willow shook her head. “I’d be willing to wager on the mystical.”

 

The rumbling started again, loud enough this time to make all three women wince.

 

“No bet.” Faith said softly. She flexed her fingers. Whatever it was…

 

“It’s coming.” Buffy whispered, instinctively taking her fighting stance.

 

Willow’s eyes were closed. “It’s already-“

 

“ENHANCED HUMANS!!!”

 

The voice came from everywhere and nowhere; instantly Faith and Buffy faced opposite directions.

 

“Who…who are we speaking with?” Buffy cursed her inability to keep the quaver out of her voice.

 

“YOUR SENSES CANNOT BEGIN TO GRASP WHO I TRULY AM!! I LOWER MYSELF TO COMMUNICATE IN THIS MANNER!!“

 

The voice’s unearthly howl was nearly deafening; Faith could feel blood seeping from her ears.

 

“THE DESTRUCTION OF YOUR KIND IS AT HAND!!”

 

Buffy gathered her courage. “Answer my ques-”

 

“THERE IS A NEW CHAMPION AMONG YOU!!”

 

“Yeah?” Faith croaked, her throat bone dry. “What of it?”

 

“YOU ARE OF NO CONSEQUENCE!! YOUR BLOOD WILL OPEN THE GATES! IT IS YOUR TIME!!”

 

“You sure? Usually I get wicked cramps before.”

 

She felt a tiny surge of triumph when there was no immediate response, but she regretted her insolence when the voice somehow managed to get even louder.

 

“FOR HIS ACTIONS, I SHALL TAKE SPECIAL MEASURES WITH THE POWERLESS HUMAN! HE WILL SUFFER LONGEST AS I LAY WASTE TO THIS DIMENSION!!”

 

Faith’s knuckles cracked audibly as her fists clenched.

 

“Faith,” Buffy whispered, “he’s trying to throw you off your game. Don’t pay-“

 

“I know what he thinks he’s doin’.”

 

“HE WILL WATCH THE CHILD DIE!!”

 

“Show your sorry ass!!” She screamed, unable to hold back any longer.

 

Again there was a momentary hesitation; Willow prayed the decibel levels wouldn’t increase again. Her eardrums felt as if they were bursting already.

 

“SO IT SHALL BE DONE. THE CHALLENGE BEGINS.”

 

Faith blinked in surprise as she found herself alone in the far corner of the field, but this time she gathered herself much more quickly.

 

“What is this, Teleport Faith Day? Come on, motherfucker! You gonna jaw all afternoon or fight?!!”

 

She froze when an extremely familiar “tsk” sound emanated from behind her.

 

“Now, now…how many times must I ask you to watch that? Boys don’t like to hear such coarse language from a young lady.”

 

Faith slowly turned toward the smiling face of Richard Wilkins III. He spread his hands.

 

“Also, patience will always be a virtue, even in this spanking new dimension we’re building today. What say we have a seat and discuss it?”

 

*******************************

Xander Harris felt nothing.

 

Emotional lockdown wasn’t new to him, of course; if one grew up among the Harrises of Sunnydale, it was nothing less than a gift. Can’t very well discuss Dad’s love of Budweiser and leather belts, can we? Anyway, didn’t everyone’s father fling a plateful of pot roast at the TV because Jesse Jackson had the temerity to appear on his now-shattered screen without permission? Tony Harris had been thrown out of the sort of filth-ridden dives Spike at his worst wouldn’t patronize –Xander couldn’t begin to count the times he’d tagged along with Mom during those bi-weekly retrieval missions – but damned if the local appliance stores didn’t positively adore the guy.

 

Naturally such things weren’t discussed openly. That’s just how it was.

 

Of course, Sunnydale was a small town; everyone pretty much knew everything. It wasn’t as if people were fooled…but when it came down to it, who really gave a shit? Everyone had their own issues; it was simply a matter of who built the best mask. Society had signed that unspoken contract long before Xander had been around…hell, probably even before Anya.

 

There were still moments, though…moments when people ripped that contract to shreds and loosed the emotional floodgates. Moments from events so awful one could always remember precisely where he or she was when they happened. Xander was no exception to this.

 

Multiple times in the Bronze over the years. The Master’s cave. The kitchen in the apartment he’d shared with Anya. The base of a makeshift tower. The foyer of the Sunnydale Moose Lodge. Buffy’s back yard. A cold concrete room in the bowels of Yankee Stadium.

 

Singularly horrible moments, every one. A little chill passed through Xander every time he thought of them.

 

So why didn’t he feel anything now? Sure, he’d come apart as he walked out of the stadium, but now…

 

A blaring horn interrupted his reverie. He started slightly, waved his hand in apology and pressed the accelerator, headed in the vague direction of the hotel. That’s where Faith wanted him.

 

Faith. She’d been through more in her short life than anyone; made Xander’s experience a picnic in comparison. She’d know why he was afflicted with total numbness. She’d know what to say to make him feel something. Anything.

 

Of course, he’d just sentenced her to death, hadn’t he? Along with the other two people who meant the most to him in this life.

 

Three, a voice whispered in his head. There is another.

 

“Thanks, Yoda.” He said aloud. “Reminder not really needed.”

 

Are you sure?

 

“Yes, I’m-“ He thought of his unborn child – correction, the artist formerly known as his unborn child – and felt his stomach roll. Xander took a deep breath and pulled quickly into the next available store parking lot to stop.

 

“Ok, you made your point. Make me a Vulcan again.”

 

Sorry. Not that simple.

 

“Of course it isn’t.” Xander blinked as the moisture blurred his vision. He leaned over to the glove compartment and dug out a tissue. After a few moments of wiping, he glanced at the storefront:

 

Final Clearance! Everything Must Go! Time’s Up!

 

Xander found himself chuckling bitterly. “Yeah.” He leaned back into the seat. “What am I doing?”

 

What you’re supposed to be doing.

 

“How do I know that?”

 

You made a promise.

 

He closed his eyes, picturing Faith’s beautiful face as she sent him away. He’d turned around to look at her once more before walking out-

 

Don’t you mean running out?

 

“Stop it! Whose side are you on, anyway?”

 

“Mommy, who is that man talking to?”

 

“Shh!”

 

Xander started slightly; he hadn’t even heard the clatter of the approaching shopping cart. A little girl was staring open-mouthed from her lofty perch in the front compartment. He tried to muster up a smile, but felt sure it barely reached the level of sickly grin. The cart’s driver gave him a furtive glance, then began pushing faster.

 

“Mommy, who is that-“

 

“Honey, do you want your surprise now?”

 

That’s how it’s done, Xander thought to himself. The art of sugary distraction.

 

In those fleeting moments when his mother still cared to give off the vague impression of giving a damn, she’d employed such tactics. In her case, though, treats were weapons to be wielded. “No Rice Krispy treats until you clean that room, mister! The TV stays off until bedtime unless you help Mom set the table! Do you want to miss Scooby Doo?”

 

Of course he didn’t. Sure, he’d seen every episode from its original groovy Sixties run about a million times, but what did that matter? Who could resist the guy in the ancient scuba gear chasing Velma around, or the ghost pilot with the high-pitched laugh and a glow in the dark skeleton costume? How about the dude who ran around repeating “creeeepeeer, creepeeerrr?” Every kid wanted to watch Shag and Scoob trap the baddie using Fred’s dumb plan. See, boys and girls? There are no ghosts. Nothing goes bump in the night. They’re all just clueless humans corrupted by greed, apparently sharing the tragic affliction of running too slow to catch a stoner with a speech-impaired dog. Hand him over to the sheriff who always sounds like that countdown guy on the radio and party on at the Malt Shop!

 

Therefore little Xander could set tables like nobody’s business, because Sunnydale kids liked to see their monsters unmasked. It felt…necessary.

 

He spied the little girl in his rearview mirror, now happily devouring a Pudding Pop. Covered his eyes again.

 

“Not dead. My baby isn’t-”

 

Then why does it feel that way?

 

“Doesn’t matter how it feels. It was the safest way.”

 

You think?

 

Xander re-started the engine and pulled out of the parking lot quickly.

 

“What I think doesn’t matter either.”

 

So what now?

 

“What do you mean, what now? It’s done.”

 

So you’re just going to the hotel?

 

Xander sped up slightly. “Yeah.”

 

Is that what you want?

 

“Christ, you’re thick! It doesn’t…matter…what I want! Just shut up!!”

 

What would Buffy do?

 

“What would…” Xander shook his head, beginning to chuckle. “That’s a joke, right?”

 

His inner voice said nothing, causing Xander to giggle even more loudly. “C’mon, don’t stop now!”

 

Silence. “Ok. You asked.”

 

Xander took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it against his mouth, trying in vain to stem the tide of laughter as the vehicle accelerated even further. As he reached the Hyperion’s parking garage, Xander yanked the wheel clockwise and stomped on the brake, leaving deep streaks of black on the pavement as the Escalade struggled to obey its master. He swerved back, overcorrecting badly; if anything else had been parked in the lot, he’d have slammed into it. As it was, the rear end fish-tailed wildly as he skidded to a stop.

 

He shoved the transmission into park, still giggling.

 

“There’s one thing Buffy would do. She can’t drive for shit.”

 

Are you done?

 

The giggle faded slowly. He nodded. “Yeah. Pretty sure I am.”

 

Ok, then…what would Faith do?

 

“I’m doing what she wants.”

 

We’re not talking about what she wants.

 

Xander leaned back against the seat. “Talking? If you want to be technical, I’m the only one talking. Which really makes me hope Angel doesn’t have security cameras in this garage. They see me having a heart-to-heart with myself and I might get a one-way trip into a straight jacket.”

 

The voice didn’t respond. Xander shrugged expansively.

 

“All right, I’ll keep playing. I’m not sure what you want from me, exactly.”

 

That’s why I’m here.

 

“Is it? Could’ve sworn you were just offically confirming what remains of my mind is shot.”

 

If your mind was shot, you wouldn’t be doing this. Answer the questions.

 

“Fine. What would the powerful women do, like Buffy or Faith? Or Martha Stewart?”

 

Let’s focus on the first two.

 

“Yeah, she creeps me out too.”

 

Again the voice fell silent. Xander’s cheeks puffed out as he sighed.

 

“They can fight. I can’t. If they were like me-”

 

They would quit?

 

“Maybe. Maybe they would.” He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he’d ever felt this tired. “Why would it be so awful for me to just curl up in the fetal position-“

 

Like a baby?

 

His stomach rolled again. “Fuck you.” Xander abruptly got out of the truck and immediately felt a wave of dizziness; after stumbling around for a moment, he managed to put a hand up and steady himself against the concrete wall. It was cool to the touch; the sensation helped him regain his focus. After a few deep breaths, he took a tentative step toward the hotel, then stopped abruptly as his foot kicked against something metallic. He looked down, watching the object clatter along the shadows of the floor before spinning to a stop near the garage’s entrance.

 

It was a tomahawk, the blade now gleaming in the sunlight. One of Faith’s two weapons of choice when she felt it was necessary. She’d once told him this while practicing in their garage, slicing and dicing the air with breathtaking speed and grace. I’m not exactly Weapons Girl. I figure all I need is here, she’d said, setting them down momentarily and holding up her fists. They’d shared a little smile as she nodded toward the floor. When I gotta go there, though, I use these puppies. They just feel right, you know?

 

“So what happened to the other one?” Xander said aloud as he slowly moved over to pick it up, keeping one hand braced against the garage wall as he squatted down. Once he was satisfied there wouldn’t be another massive attack of head rush, he removed his hand and twirled the weapon carefully. It was beautifully maintained, so shiny he could actually see his reflection in the polished steel.

 

He ceased twirling, taking a long moment to stare at his own face. Finally, he quickly rose to his feet and dug into his pocket for keys.

 

“They’d say fuck it.”

 

What?

 

“Ok, maybe Buffy wouldn’t say it that way. Still…”

 

He hopped back into the truck, placing the weapon on the passenger seat.

 

**************************************

 

Spike resisted the temptation to peek from underneath his blanket.

 

“Coppers? How many?”

 

Cordy shifted uncomfortably from her position atop him. “Stop wriggling!”

 

“A lot.” Angel responded tersely, giving Wesley a nervous look. “Thoughts?”

 

“They don’t appear to be blocking our way.”

 

“Wolfram and Hart?”

 

Wes shook his head. “Doubtful. As far as Lilah knows, we’re still out of the picture.”

 

“Insurance policy? Could be she allowed for the possibility of us escaping.” Cordy suggested.

 

Wesley considered this a moment as the throng continued to grow.

 

“If that were true, why wouldn’t they be attempting to impede our progress? Lilah surely wouldn’t want us in Drusilla’s way. How much further?”

 

Angel glanced at the next exit. “Five minutes, maybe. Assuming…” He trailed off, exchanging a glance with Wesley.

 

“Assuming we don’t run into traffic.” Wesley finished.

 

*******************************************

 

“Let a few of them pass.” Riley advised from the truck just in front of Angel’s convertible. Gunn gave him an incredulous look.

 

“Are you kidding me? We don’t even know-“

 

“Yes we do.” Dawn interrupted, glaring at Riley. “MAJOR Finn hasn’t been telling us everything.”

 

Riley shrugged slightly. “I wasn’t sure they’d mobilize in time. Gunn-“

 

“You’re telling me they’re on our side?”

 

“They’ll get us there faster.”

 

Gunn hesitated a moment, then touched his brake. “You better be right. Black man bein’ followed on an LA freeway doesn’t usually end well.”

 

“Just make believe you’re in a white Bronco.”

 

Gunn gave Dawn a glance. “The Major thinks he’s a comedian.”

 

********************************************

 

“There it is.” Angel said as his convertible slowed.

 

“What?” Spike said. “We there already?”

 

“No.” Wes responded. “The police are forming a barrier around us. Thereby making traffic a non-issue.”

 

There was a momentary silence in the car.

 

“Bloody Finn, showin’ off.”

 

*********************************

 

The convoy moved along at a steady pace, leaving confused and annoyed motorists in their wake. Just under four minutes later, the police began to peel off, allowing Gunn and Angel to exit the highway. Police cars were already lined up on each side of them at the off-ramp.

 

Riley shifted uncomfortably under Dawn’s gaze. “Well?” She snapped.

 

“I made a phone call just before I infiltrated the security detail that escorted you to Lilah’s apartment.”

 

“I thought you said you weren’t officially here on business.”

 

“Circumstances changed.”

 

“I’ll say.” Gunn interjected as he turned toward the Staples Center’s parking garage.

 

“Changed how?” Dawn asked.

 

“At the time, I decided whatever was going on, there were too many bad guys…even for us.” He met Dawn’s eyes. “Was I wrong?”

 

“You could have said something.”

 

“I had no way of knowing she’d be able to mobilize the force in time. As you said, this mission was off the books; officially we were standing down.”

 

“How can someone stand down?” Gunn asked.

 

“It means my battalion was out of the rotation-“

 

“I know what it means. Just never understood the phrase. No one stands down. They stand up.”

 

“I’ve never really thought about it.” Riley paused. “People sit up, though.”

 

“I suppose.”

 

“Can we get back to the point here?” Dawn interrupted. “I thought out of the rotation was about football or something.”

 

“You probably mean baseball. When a pitcher gets injured-”

 

“Riley!!”

 

“Sorry. My battalion was on lea…on vacation.”

 

Dawn squinted. “I know what on leave means.”

 

“Sorry. Again. My point is, our battalion comes from all over the world, and we haven’t had an extended period of time off in a year.”

 

“So a lot of them wouldn’t be available this fast.” Gunn said.

 

“Exactly.”

 

“Well, looks like your people stuck around the base.”

 

Riley shrugged. “We’ll see.”

 

“She couldn’t just call and say they’d made it?” Dawn asked, still miffed.

 

Riley shook his head. “I leave a coded message on a particular voice mail. For security reasons, radio silence is initiated until the commanders meet face to face.” He cleared his throat. “Also, I had to turn my phone off right after making the call.”

 

Dawn raised an eyebrow. “The first part sounded way cooler.”

 

“Should’ve just stuck with that, huh?”

 

She nodded, giving him a small smile.

 

“So who’s the she?” Gunn asked.

 

“I’m sorry?”

Gunn reached for his wallet as they entered the garage, but the booth attendant just waved once with his left hand while saluting with the other. Feeling slightly foolish, he returned the gesture – the wave, not the salute - as the railing lifted.

 

“The one who was supposed to mobilize the force. She your second in command?”

 

Dawn chuckled. “In his dreams.”

 

************************************

 

Wesley turned to face Spike’s blanket. “You believe this is Riley’s doing?”

 

“Course it’s him. Rang up the old ball and chain, I’d wager.”

 

Wes looked to Angel, who shook his head. “As usual, I’m not following.”

 

Spike sighed audibly. “He did whatever he does to call in the cavalry. Sent out smoke signals. Sounded the sodding bugle.”

 

“We’re inside the garage.” Angel informed his fellow vampire.

 

Spike whipped off his blanket and dislodged a scowling Cordelia. “How we doin’ on time?”

 

“As well as could be expected.” Wes answered, glancing at his watch. “This should afford us some breathing room to formulate a strategy.”

 

“Figuratively speaking.” Angel managed a slight grin, which Wesley returned.

 

“Yes.”

 

“No need to outthink ourselves.” Spike put in. “Dru’s not exactly Hannibal.”

 

“He’s got a point.” Angel added. “Battle planning isn’t exactly her strong suit.”

 

Wesley nodded. “More to the point, where could she have hidden the elephants?”

 

Spike frowned. “Who said anything about elephants? I’d be more worried about B.A. or that pilot who was crackers.” He looked at the ceiling. “What was that bloke’s name?”

 

Wes turned to face Spike with a frown. Spike blinked. “Don’t be lookin’ at me like that. Not my fault you don’t have any culture.”

 

Angel pulled his convertible into a parking space next to Gunn. As he unbuckled his seat belt, he turned his head slightly to speak.

 

“It was Murdock.”

 

“Right!” Spike snapped his fingers as he followed Angel out of the car.

 

They’d barely been able to smooth out their dusters before a small group of men and women approached, identically dressed in camouflage khakis.

 

Spike raised his eyebrows. “There’s the A-Team now.”

 

The group slowed slightly as they drew nearer, allowing a tall, attractive young brunette to take the lead. She walked up to Riley and saluted smartly. “Good afternoon, Major Finn. You called?”

 

He returned the salute. “I did. Nice job arriving so quickly.”

 

Her voice softened to a near whisper. “Usually you’re nice enough to allow me to arrive first.”

 

“No comment.” Riley turned to face the gang. “I know some of you have already met her, but for the benefit of the rest, let me offically introduce my colleague, Major Samantha Finn.”

 

********************************

 

Jack Treadway jerked awake as the ringtone pierced his ears.

 

“Fuck a duck.”

 

He rolled over in his bed, not bothering to check the Caller ID; voicemails were invented for a reason, after all. After a few more rings, the noise subsided, affording Jack the chance to return to that special hootch he’d often visited before. There’d been such nice girls there…

 

The phone screamed again.

 

“Goddammit!!” He reached over for the phone, preparing to turn it off and/or flush it down the toilet when his sleep-heavy lids parted just enough to identify the caller.

 

“Shit.” How to play this? How much could he know at this point? Jack pressed the “talk” button.

 

“Alex, my man. What’s-“

 

(Did I interrupt something, Jack? Had to call twice.)

 

“No, no…everything’s good.”

 

(Didn’t wake you, did I?)

 

“No-“

 

(Good. I’ve got a proposition, but it’s time-sensitive.)

 

Ok, Jack thought to himself, clearly he knows nothing. Otherwise I wouldn’t be getting the courtesy of a business call.

 

“What do you need?”

 

(Two weapons. A Knight’s Armament SR-25 and a Barrett M-99. Do you need me to give you specific shell requirements or-)

 

“Hold up. You want what?!”

 

(A Knight’s Armament SR-25 and a Barrett M-99. Don’t make me say it again, ‘kay? I’ve had a rough day. Can you do this?)

 

“Shit, that’s kind of a tall order. You gonna assassinate somebody? I know a coupla guys on City Council don’t like you and Willow, but Jesus-“

 

(Shut up and answer the question. Can you do this or not?)

 

Fuckin punk. “Maybe.”

 

(No time for maybes. I’ve got thirty minutes, no more.)

 

Jack almost dropped the phone. “Half an hour? Are you outta your gourd?”

 

(That’s all I needed to hear. I’ll take my business elsewhere.)

 

Jack heard a cash register ringing in the back of his head; other than those girls in the aforementioned hootch back in ’71, there was no sweeter sound on this earth.

 

“Wait. Hold up! I can probably pull this off, but we’re talking-“

 

(Give me a number.)

 

“Well…gimme a second to think-“

 

(Give me…a damn…number.)

 

“Ok, ok. For this kinda hardware, this fast? Fifty grand, at least.”

 

(I’ll double it if you bring them both by 6:30.)

 

Jack pulled the phone from his ear and checked the time. “That’s twenty minutes! You said thirty!”

 

(Which is why I just doubled the offer. C’mon Jack…you’re the magic man, right? Show me something.)

 

The pilot only hesitated for a moment. “Where?”

 

(There’s an abandoned gas station on Pico, about two miles south of the Staples Center. You know it?)

 

Jack closed his eyes to concentrate. “Yeah.”

 

(Twenty minutes.)

 

“Right.”

 

(And Jack?)

 

“Uh-huh?”

 

(The payoff drops ten grand for each minute you’re late.)

 

************************************

 

Faith tried to swallow, but her throat was too dry.

 

“You’re not him.”

 

The former mayor of Sunnydale smiled. “Oh, but I am. Trust me.” The grin faded slightly. “Gosh, where are my manners?” He gestured expansively. “Would you like to sit down?”

 

Faith followed his gesture and blinked with surprise; a leather couch had somehow appeared on the field. She shook her head slowly.

 

“I’ll stand.”

 

“Well, that’s just fine. Whatever makes you happy. Hope you don’t mind if I indulge? It’s been quite a long trip.”

 

She managed a shrug as he took a seat. “So what’s the drill? You’re supposed to fu…screw with my head?”

 

The mayor’s friendly smile remained firmly in place. “Points for effort, Faith…but I’m not sure ‘screw’ is any less graphic. And no…my number one priority here is helping you.”

 

“Yeah, right.”

 

“I haven’t helped you before?”

 

Faith hesitated. “Depends on your point of view. Look, can we just get to-“

 

“The point? Absolutely. I never was a fan of beating about the bush. Just the phrase alone sounds unsanitary.” Wilkins folded his hands in his lap. “Once upon a time, I was going to rule this world, with you at my right hand…well, claw, more specifically, but we won’t split hairs.” He giggled. “Unfortunately, circumstances changed rather radically – that pesky Summers girl just managed to find a way, didn’t she? Well, you’ve heard the story, I suppose. Can’t rewrite the history books.”

 

He spread his hands. “But why dwell on the negative? I’ve always been one to walk on the sunny side of the street. And hey, what have we here? Good news, that’s what! Want to hear it?”

 

Faith took a deep breath, trying desperately not to smile. “Can I stop you?”

 

“Why would you want to? I’m sharing one of the great privileges of being alive. Here it comes: as long as we exist, we get to strive toward grabbing that cosmic pen and writing some history of our own. Faith….Faith! The universe has afforded us a unique opportunity. A second chance.”

 

He nodded toward the accompanying seat. “I’d feel so much better if you sat down. You really do appear uncomfortable.”

 

“I’m good. What does second chance mean, exactly?”

 

“Precisely as it sounds…though in our case, even better than my wildest earthly aspirations. Once our side wrests control after this battle – and rest assured, Faith, we’re going to win this afternoon, one way or the other - this dimension will be devoid of strong leadership. I propose that you and I fill that particular opening.”

 

Faith decided that now was a good time to sit. “You gotta be shittin’ me.”

 

“Now Faith-“

 

“Skip the language lessons for a sec. You want me to hook up with you again?”

 

“As it should be.”

 

Faith said nothing for a long moment. “What would I have to do?”

 

“Absolutely nothing. Sit here comfortably while I help the others in their challenges against Miss Summers and Miss Rosenberg.”

 

“Why would they need your help? Thought your side was going to win no matter what.”

 

Wilkins sighed. “I don’t wish to prolong their suffering. They were worthy opponents in their time.” He looked into Faith’s eyes. “Do you believe me?”

 

Faith merely nodded. Encouraged, Wilkins leaned forward.

 

“Don’t you see? This is our destiny. You and I, ruling together.”

 

Faith shook her head. “Sorry, but it’s you that ain’t seeing. They’re my family.”

 

“You love them?”

 

“Well…yeah.”

 

“I was your family first.”

 

“It wasn’t-“

 

“You don’t think I love you?”

 

For the first time, Faith found the strength to look Richard Wilkins in the eye before speaking.

 

“Yeah. I think you did.”

 

The former Mayor spread his hands. “Present tense, young lady. I’m right here.”

 

“Not the point.”

 

Wilkins sat back. “Explain the difference, then. Tell me how I was somehow deficient in comparison.”

 

Faith said nothing.

 

“As I thought. Love isn’t exclusive to one side of the equation, Faith. What we had – what we still have – is every bit as valid. I realize how difficult it must be to sacrifice those you care about in service to our cause…but trust me when I tell you this: it will be merciful in comparison to what will happen otherwise.”

 

“Xander-“

 

“Can be spared. He’s not considered a viable danger.”

 

Faith almost couldn’t form her next words. “My baby?”

 

For the first time, the mayor hesitated before responding. “I can see to it Miss Rosenberg survives long enough to bring the child to term. A youngster that powerful could be extremely useful to us.”

 

Faith suddenly stood. “There’s the word I was lookin’ for.”

 

Wilkins sat up slightly. “I’m sorry?”

 

“Useful. That’s what I was.”

 

“Well, of course you were! People have always underestimated-“

 

“I was a stupid, terrified kid who happened to be able to kill things. You took advantage.”

 

“Did I? Tell me, Faith, who came to whom, initially?”

 

“Ok, point. Puttin’ that aside, why would you do it?”

 

“Why would I…”

 

“Take me in? Give me the attention, the nice crib? See, up ‘til then I only thought guys who gave me stuff were just lookin’ for a quick roll, but you made it pretty clear that wasn’t your deal.”

 

Wilkins look turned serious. “You’d been dealt a very painful hand in life-“

 

“So you dealt me a different one. Not better…just different. Still wound up a loser, though.”

 

“I’m afraid you’ve lost me.”

 

Faith smiled slightly. “’Course I have. Lemme ask you another way: would you have let me into your office if I couldn’t kill stuff?”

 

The former mayor didn’t respond. Faith nodded approval.

 

“I’ll say one thing: you ain’t a liar. Otherwise you would’ve just told me it didn’t matter how much ass I could kick. Truth is, I was useful.” She said the last word with emphasis. “I was so thrilled that anyone gave a damn about me, you could ask for anything…and you damned well knew it.”

 

Faith felt her voice break. “I think you did grow to love me…in your own way. That’ll always mean something…but it ain’t enough. Not any more.”

 

“Is he so much better?” Wilkins said softly. “You just said it yourself: I’ve never lied to you. Can you say that about him?”

 

Faith smiled through her tears. “Nope. Boy’s got his faults, no question. Here’s the thing: Xander didn’t ask the Slayer to marry him. He asked me.”

 

She cleared her throat. “So…if you don’t mind, let’s lose the couch and do what we gotta do here, ok?”

 

Wilkins got to his feet slowly as the couch faded from view. “If we must.”

 

“For what it’s worth…I’m sorry it has to go down like this.”

 

“As am I.”

 

Faith shrugged slightly. “So…what exactly is gonna happen here? Doesn’t seem fair if you’re still…imperious.”

 

“The word was impervious.”

 

“Whatever.”

 

“You really do need to work on your grammatical skills if you wish to have a future in the modern workplace.”

 

“Already got a couple of jobs talkin’ like this. Anyway, I knew the word. Just wanted to see that look on your face one last time.”

 

Wilkins giggled and shook his head. “My Faith…you’ll never change.”

 

“So people have said. You gonna answer the question?”

 

“Soon enough. Did Buffy ever share what exactly happened after she tried to murder you?”

 

Faith licked her lips nervously. “We sorta gloss over that period.”

 

“I can imagine.” Wilkins clapped his hands together. “Well, then, I’d say this is long overdue.”

 

“What-“

 

The remainder of the sentence stuck in Faith’s throat as Richard Wilkins III began to transform.

 

************************************

 

Riley briefed his wife as quickly as possible, but Sam still had some questions.

 

“How many hostiles, exactly?”

 

Riley looked to Angel, who shrugged one shoulder.

 

“Impossible to give an exact number. More than enough to make this a chore.”

 

Sam contemplated for a moment. “And you say we have to cut off their hands?”

 

“Or remove the Gem Of Amara from their ring finger, yes.”

 

“Brings new meaning to hand-to-hand combat.”

 

“How many troops did you bring?” Riley asked.

 

“Forty-one.”

 

“That’s it?”

 

“Didn’t have time to call anyone else up.”

 

Riley sighed. “Ok. Well…better than nothing, that’s for sure. Did you bring enough taser immobilizers for all of us? That should afford us plenty of time to grab the rings.”

 

“We don’t have any.”

 

“You what?!”

 

Sam’s head snapped toward him. “Ease off, Finn! You didn’t exactly give me much notice. How exactly am I going to get all these troops through customs with tasers? It’s not as if we had time to get sanctioned.”

 

Riley puffed out his cheeks. “Ok. What DO you have for weapons?”

 

“Managed to scare up a few swords from our old barracks near Edwards. Other than that, Ka-Bars.”

 

“You’re going to fight with cereal snacks?” Cordy asked, wrinkling her nose in confusion.

 

“Ka-Bars are military issue knives.” Angel answered. “Which work a lot better in close combat. Not advisable with vampires.”

 

Sam lifted her hands. “We’ve got what we’ve got.”

 

Angel nodded. “All right, then. We form a collective barrier at the foot of the steps outside the West entrance.”

 

Riley frowned. “We need to distribute evenly amongst all exits-“

 

“No we don’t.” Spike interjected. “She’ll be comin’ from that direction.”

 

“How could you possibly-“

 

“Sun sets in the west.”

 

“And?” Sam asked, intrigued now.

 

“She’ll want it at her back. A century of instinct doesn’t go away just ‘cause you found special jewelry. No way any vampire would willingly face the sun.”

 

Sam looked to Riley. “Makes sense.”

 

Riley sighed. “Unless they want us to think that. What if Lilah is giving the orders?”

 

Spike rolled his eyes. “Dru wouldn’t take orders. Not about this.”

 

“I suppose.”

 

“We’d best get moving, then, shouldn’t we?”

 

Sam nodded toward the throng of troops. “Finn, you want to do the briefing?”

 

“We’ll do it together.”

 

The two soldiers moved away.

 

Angel turned to Cordelia. “You’re comfortable with the weapon?”

 

She nodded.

 

“You’ll stay at my back. Understood?”

 

“Duh. Like I’d be anywhere else.”

 

Wesley turned to Dawn. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to stay at my back?”

 

Dawn took a glance at his bottom. “Tempting offer. What say we stand shoulder to shoulder instead?”

 

He smiled. “Fair enough.”

 

The group went in different directions, taking a few moments to practice a bit more with their chosen weapons. Dawn slowly made her way toward Angel.

 

“Hey.”

 

Angel stopped swinging and turned. Dawn scuffed the cement with her tennis shoe.

 

“Ummm…”

 

“You weren’t wrong. When this is over, we’ll find her together.”

 

They stared at one another for a long moment before Dawn turned on her heel and moved back to work with Wesley.

 

A few minutes later, Riley moved back toward them, speaking loudly. “These civilians have been fighting demons longer and more efficiently than we have for a very long time. You’d be wise to listen to them as much as you would me. Is that understood?”

 

“Yes, sir!” The group chorused.

 

Riley nodded his approval. “And to review one last time, these two“ - he gestured toward Angel and Spike - “are not hostiles, no matter how they may look. Is that understood?”

 

The two vampires exchanged an annoyed glance as the soldiers again responded.

 

“Yes, sir!”

 

“Good”

 

Riley paused a moment before continuing.

 

“I know what it took for all of you to get here so quickly. I’m also aware that virtually no one – including your own families - will ever be allowed to know what we’re doing today. That’s the nature of our job. Still, just in case you’d forgotten: I’ll always know…and I’m honored to serve with you.”

 

He turned to face the combined representatives of the Scooby and Fang Gangs.

 

“All of you.”

 

There was a long pause before Sam spoke.

 

“All right, move out!”

 

The group began marching out of the garage. Just as they were about to go out into the open, Spike stopped. Riley turned to face him.

 

“Until we get a chance to get a Gem to you, I want you to be our eyes and ears.” He handed Spike an electronic device. “This comm link will hook you up with all of us. If you spot anyone being blindsided-“

 

“I warn ‘em. Got it.”

 

Riley looked out as his troops began fanning out, creating a defensive perimeter.

 

“Without proper weapons-“

 

“I know. We’ll protect ‘em as best we can.”

 

Riley didn’t meet Spike’s eyes. “Thank you.”

 

He began to walk away, but Spike’s voice stopped him.

 

“Might want to show me how to turn this bloody thing on.”

 

************************************

 

Xander tried to block out the fact that he’d just seen two rats running across the floor of the station. He’d seen demons of all kinds…but rats just plain freaked him out.

 

He checked his watch as Jack skidded into view; it had been precisely twenty-one minutes since they’d hung up the phone. As the pilot got out of the car, he held up his hands defensively.

 

“I shouldn’t get my ass docked for traffic, right?”

 

Xander raised an eyebrow. “Let’s check the weapons and go from there.”

 

Jack motioned toward the trunk. “Be my guest.”

 

Xander looked inside. “Ok.”

 

“These the ones you were looking for?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“They’re not assembled-“

 

“No problem.” Xander began putting the weapons together, quickly and efficiently. Jack blinked with surprise.

 

“Jesus, you been holding out on me? That’s Special Forces shit.”

 

Xander kept his eyes on his work. “If you say so.”

 

“Beautiful weapons, though.”

 

“That they are.”

 

Jack folded his arms. “Nice as these are, I’m surprised you didn’t go for newer models.”

 

Xander checked the sight on both guns. “My expertise only goes up to the fall of 1999.”

 

“That’s when you got out?”

 

“In a manner of speaking.”

 

Xander attached the base of the Barrett M99 last, steadying himself on the roof of Jack’s car as he peered through the site. Jack followed his gaze.

 

“Whatcha aimin’ at?”

 

“Beer can.”

 

“I don’t see a-“

 

The gun went off, causing Jack to jump with surprise. There was a distant ‘tink’ sound. Xander nodded and began to disassemble the weapon.

 

“This’ll do fine.”

 

“Ummm…aren’t you gonna try the other one?”

 

Xander picked up the Knight’s SR-25. “Naahh. I only like it ‘cause the barrel’s so big and heavy.”

 

“I don’t get-“

 

Jack didn’t get a chance to finish as Xander slammed the barrel into his forehead. His feet actually left the ground for a split second before he hit the gravel.

 

“Wha…what the fuck are-ooof!!“

 

Xander had hit him again, this time in the stomach.

 

“Jack, I don’t know exactly what your role was last night, but even I’m smart enough to figure out you betrayed us. Luckily you were just greedy and stupid enough to come right to me anyway.”

 

Jack opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out.

 

“Don’t bother trying.” Xander said coldly. “I’d just feel the need to hit you again.”

 

He pulled a check out of his shirt pocket and stuck it to Jack’s bloody forehead.

 

“Paid in full.”

 

Xander turned away, grabbed his weapon of choice and headed for the SUV. Jack rolled to one side, finally finding enough strength to speak.

 

“Harris! You should know better than to turn your back on me! Do you know who the fuck I am?!”

 

Xander merely kept walking.

 

Jack lurched to his feet and began to chant in Latin, which got Xander’s attention. He turned back, fear in his eyes.

 

“Jack, please don’t do that.”

 

“Fuck you!” Jack spat out before finishing the spell, unleashing a wave of magic toward Xander. He staggered back, crying out in pain…then abruptly stopped with a smile.

 

“Hey! That didn’t even tickle.”

 

Jack shook his head slowly in disbelief. “You should be…”

 

“Dead? Were you going to kill me with a spell, Jack? Tell you what.” Xander placed the gun carefully in the back seat of his vehicle, than walked back toward Jack. “How about I get a little closer? Take another shot at it.”

 

Treadway held out his hands. “Vincire!”

 

Again the magic simply bounced off Xander, who merely shook his head. “Jesus, man…you’re sort of pathetic.”

 

“How…”

 

“How? Simple. Willow felt she owed you for some reason; I never asked why and she never elaborated. That was fine with me, since you turned out to be useful. No one can say you aren’t a pretty damn good pilot, Jack…but I never trusted you. So a while back, she did a little defensive mojo for us just in case. Worked like a charm…so to speak. What does that tell you?”

 

Jack said nothing. Xander leaned toward him, almost whispering.

 

“I’ll help you out since you’re still a little woozy. It means you obviously don’t know who the fuck WE are. Unfortunately you’re learning that a little late, having already messed with us, so…you’d better pray to whatever God you believe in that Dawn and Fred are ok. ‘Cause if not, I’ll be the least of your worries. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have somewhere to be.”

 

Xander walked quickly away, hopped into his vehicle and skidded out, rear tires sending dust and rocks into Jack’s face.

 

 

- End Chapter Thirty-four -