Sorry it's late. I'm ill :( Thanks for all the lovely reviews :) They're making me feel better!


16



“How’d you swing this?” Faith mused idly, not really caring for an answer from the blonde Slayer. She knew the infamous Buffy the Vampire Slayer had some serious power when it came to everyone she knew. It was pretty obvious that Buffy hadn’t come up against the same protests when she announced she would be taking out this vamp nest as when Faith wanted to do it herself.

“Told my mom that we were big enough girls to handle it.” Buffy replied casually, watching the dark haired Slayer as they strolled down the shadowed alleyway.

“And she bought that?” Faith couldn’t help but demand angrily. She had tried pleading with Joyce and it had never worked.

“Well it wasn’t like she had much choice.” Buffy told her with a smile. “She can’t stop me. She’s just as much mine as yours now.”

“I wish.” Faith muttered, pointing out the factory entrance that was concealed behind cardboard boxes.

“Seriously.” Buffy told her, pulling aside her brunette counterpart, “She’s just as much yours as mine. She loves you, you know?” She smiled at Faith, letting the emotions she felt flow from her directly into Faith. “She believes in you.”

“Not as much as she does in you.” Faith mumbled, trying to pull away from what Buffy was offering her. It was everything she had ever wanted, and yet she wasn’t leaping at the chance to take the blonde’s life.

“Listen to me Faith.” Buffy commanded, pulling her back to face her, “My mother believes in you, she loves you and as much as it hurts to say it, she’s so proud of you she almost forgot about me.” Buffy smiled gently, “You kept her going while I was gone and I never really thanked you, but this is your chance to prove to them that you’re the One.”

“Thanks B.” Faith ducked her head in embarrassment, then pulling away she straightened up, her smile a genuine measure of her indecisive emotions.

“You’re welcome.” Buffy replied, adjusting the axe that rested across her back and following the resolute Slayer into the dark factory.

Using simple hand signals to indicate that she should follow, Faith moved stealthily across the dusty floor of the factory. The dirt and grime that coated the floor muffled the sound of their movements and they were able to get half way across the factory floor before they sensed anything. Turning as one, their faces lit up at the prospect of facing off against these vampires. Being higher up the family tree, Buffy had power over these young vamps, some barely more than mindless minions, the others with delusions of grandeur, but she was determined to face off the good old fashioned way, letting Faith prove to herself that no vampire could get the best of her. Besides, where was the fun in ordering these vampires out into the midday California sunlight when she could have a good hack and slash and choke on the dust like the good old days?

‘Now?’ Faith’s voice resonated in her head and she nodded, a movement so small it was virtually indiscernible, yet Faith immediately threw herself at the nearest vamp, a young minion of about seventeen before he was turned, still in his Sunnydale High Razorback letterman jacket.

Walking around the fray, Buffy flashed a smile at the vamps that had more sense than to attack her. They could sense she was one of their own and these brainless minions simply couldn’t compute that this small girl, who had obviously aligned herself with the Slayer was a living, breathing Aurelian who simply exuded power.

Solving their predicament for them, Buffy swung her shiny silver axe over her shoulder and in one sweep, cleaved the heads from the shoulders of the nearest two minions. Having declared war, Buffy barely had time to spare a glace in Faith’s direction before she sensed the pack closing in on her.

Closing her eyes and hoping Spike was awake and ready, Buffy pulled his vampire through the connection they had renewed that morning, his demon filling every corner of her body, forcing the Slayer deep down into hiding while it revelled in the destruction it was causing, spinning and whirling around, almost playing with these stupid minions as her body leapt from one to another, kicking, punching and pirouetting away to taunt another, the reclaimed Mr Pointy in her waistband still untouched while she played with them, throwing one to Faith every time she sensed another meet the business end of Mr Pointy Jr.

The dance was instinctual, it was stirred by something deep inside, something that powered Buffy to take the fight to the next level, killing off all those that dared to enter her personal comfort zone.

Standing off to the side, Faith watched, open mouthed while Buffy pranced about like a fairy on PCP. Her face had half twisted into features not unlike the ones of her adversaries, yet her eyes were not amber, they were shining silver, and she seemed to be playing with them, flouncing from one side of the circle to another, letting them hit her and taking it out on a vamp on the other side of the group before twirling around and killing that vamp.

In a matter on minutes, all that was between Buffy and Faith was extra dust coating the floor in strange little mounds.

“About done?” Faith drawled, a strange grin on her face, “No more disco fever in there?”

“Piss off.” Buffy giggled, shaking off the game face and sending her love to Spike. She could feel him literally dropping off to sleep, the moment she severed the demons connection. He had stayed awake just to help her and now the daylight had seduced him, stealing him away almost instantly.

“Is that anyway to talk to your sister?” Faith joked, kicking open the front door to the factory and letting the sunlight stream in behind them.

“That’s the only way to talk to my little sister.” Buffy assured her, “It’s because I’m older, I can totally-” She cut off right there, the only sound escaping from her mouth was a pitiful squeak.

“B?” Faith asked, trying not panic, until she spotted the bolt sticking out of the blonde’s shoulder as she fell to her knees. “Shit!” She cried, turning around to find their attacker. Seeing no one in the gloomy building, she dragged Buffy sideways, out of the doorway in case whoever it was decided to shoot her as well.

Carrying her up to the alley wall, Faith shifted her to her side and placed her on floor, her shoulder was bleeding profusely and there was no way for Faith to leave her here in the shadows in case the vampire came out after them.

“Take.” Buffy whispered, looking up at the brunette in agony. “It. Out.” She coughed, spraying the floor with blood. “Now.”

“You’re the boss.” Faith joked feebly, placing one hand on the crossbow bolt and the other on Buffy’s shoulder and gently tugging the wooden stick out. Rolling Buffy into the recovery position, Faith cursed herself for leaving her phone back at the mansion.

“Spike.” Buffy croaked, her throat drying up with the pain she was in. This was worse than when she had been poisoned by a Jarvlen flesh eater. This was worse pain than any she had known and this time, Spike wasn’t here to save her, to kill the baddie and make sure she was okay. She was stuck with Faith, who for all her good intent wasn’t able to help her the way Spike could.

“Spike’s not here Buff. I’m gonna get you to the hospital ‘kay?”

“No.” Buffy told her firmly, coughing up more blood. “Home.”

“Home?” Faith questioned, “Mansion.” She decided, scooping Buffy up in her arms and carrying her out of the alley, thankful that the mansion was on the ‘bad’ side of town so she didn’t have far to walk. There was no way she could have carried Buffy that far, Slayer power or not. She was completely exhausted from the fight, having had to rely on her own powers, not whatever the hell Buffy had been channelling. The wound was steadily dripping blood down Faith’s legs, showing no sign of slowing or stopping in the way that her wounds healed with Slayer powers. Either the bolt had pierced something important, even though it was too high for the lungs or too low for the artery, there was also the possibility that there was something in the wound, preventing it from healing like it should be. Panicking that she had pulled it out wrong, Faith hurried her pace, her exhaustion taking a back seat to Buffy’s health.

Opening her eyes a crack, Buffy was relieved to see the mansion looming in the distance. They would be there in a matter of minutes and Buffy was hoping that everyone else had gone home so that Spike could heal her the usual way. There was no way she would be able to convince anyone else that all she needed was bed.

Lurching when Faith used her to feet to push open the front door, Buffy felt the bile rise up in her throat. It was all she could to clamp down on the pain, to focus on channelling it steadily to Spike instead of letting the screaming agony assail him while he slept, panicking him for no reason. Feeling him return the connection, Buffy closed her eyes again, giving up now that Spike was coming for her.

“Good lord!” Giles uttered, stepping out of a nearby room to see Faith standing in the foyer, looking helpless, with Buffy’s limp body cradled in her arms.

“My baby.” Joyce cried, running past Giles to get to the Slayers. “What happened?”

Passing Buffy off to Giles who quickly lay her down on a chaise longue, Faith slumped to the floor, her hand reaching out to take Buffy’s in her own.

“We went in and killed them. It was all done and we left. Then, I don’t know who, or why, but she just kinda yelped, and fuck.” Faith slammed her head backwards into the wall, the pain assuaging her guilt for a second. “Fuck, she got shot. Crossbow. My fuckin’ crossbow! The one they stole last time!” She slammed her head back again, her eyes screwed shut to prevent the tears from escaping. “It should have been me. Was meant for me.”

“Don’t you ever say that.” Joyce scolded, tears running freely down her cheeks at the sight of her daughter laid out so deathly pale. “It was-”

“Buffy?” Spike yelled, barrelling through the door in his hurry to get to his mate. Her pain had awoken him and the scent of her blood had been taunting him, floating around his head like she was in every direction. He had followed his nose, instantly awake at the threat that hung over his mate. “Buffy, pet?” He scooped her up and began to leave the room, not acknowledging anyone else in the room.

“Spike,” Giles called, “What do you think you think you’re doing? She needs medical help.”

A growl was all that Giles received in way of a response. Snarling ferociously, he stalked from the room, his precious mate held tightly against his chest, ignoring the pleas and orders echoing in the hallway from Giles, Joyce, Faith and Angel. Taking the stairs two at a time, he quickly made his way into the room that they shared, kicking the door shut behind him and placing Buffy into the bed he had so recently vacated.

“Crossbow bolt.” A soft voice came from the doorway. “Shoulder.”

“Get the fuck out.” He snarled, pulling the covers up over Buffy and walking towards the door. Seeing the dark Slayer take a step back he growled, shutting door once again, locking it firmly behind him and stripping his jeans off. It was lucky he had fallen asleep in them, their visitors would have had a good eyeful when he’d gone to find Buffy, he hadn’t even spared a though to his state of undress.

Slipping between the sheets, taking Buffy into his arms, he manoeuvred her pliable body into a more comfortable position and using his hands to keep her head still, he prised open her eyelids with his thumbs, staring into her glassy eyes while she fought for consciousness.

She was there, awake, he could feel her, feel the pain she was in and the difficulty she was having in keeping her body in tune with his. Pressing a quick kiss to her lips, he changed into his game face, letting the connection they shared pull it from him and into Buffy. His demon could help her heal, could keep the connection open long enough. Using his human teeth, he moved down her neck, nibbling gently before taking hold of the skin and tearing it open, her small fangs mirroring his, the blood pouring into his mouth strengthening his demon which was in turn, slowly but surely strengthening the body that lay wrapped in his arms.