Author’s Note: Thanks to Kar for doing twice the beta in one day. Thanks to all of you for giving me the feedback to keep this going. This one is just a shortie to set up for next chapter.
In our tenth installment a former enemy claims he has information for the slayer, and a number of characters wrestle with their inner demons.

Chapter Ten: Protection

Dawn was still exhausted from the ordeal with the attacking ubervamps when she answered to door that afternoon to find a soggy, sobbing blond guy prostrate on their welcome mat. It was really tempting to just shut the door and pretend she'd never seen him. But he looked so utterly pathetic, and there was no way Buffy would turn away someone that desperate looking. Unless he was evil.
In which case, maybe she would date him.

"I beg you," he pleaded, hands clasped and everything as he got up on his knees. "I throw myself upon the slayer's mercy and beg her for a parlay."

Dawn's eyes bugged. Who was this guy? "Buffy!" she shouted. "There's some squirrelly guy here who wants to beg you for mercy! You better come down here!"

There's was nothing for a minute, and then she heard, "Blond or brunette?" shouted down the stairs.

"Blond!"

"Tell Tucker's brother I'm a little short on mercy these days." So this was one of the Trio guys? He didn't look like much. Dawn gave the guy an apologetic shrug and moved to close the door.

"I have information!" the guy screeched. "I beg you for asylum, oh Great and Merciful Slayer, defender of the helpless and--"

"Enough, already!"

Her sister was on the stairs, dressed and combed. Buffy had apparently been using the shouting match as an opportunity to gussy up. Which made sense. Probably she didn't want one of the dorks seeing her in a robe with bed hair. Or sex hair. Ever since Mom had left for work, Dawn had been blasting the radio to drown out the noise from upstairs.

Buffy crossed her arms. "What are you doing here?"

The guy carefully crossed the threshold and fell to his knees again. Dawn stifled a laugh. "I beg you for mercy--"

"You said that already," her sister sighed. "Either tell me what you are doing here, or I'm pitching you back out the door."

After a really tiring amount of meandering, Buffy finally pinned the guy to the wall by his throat, and he starting spilling big time. About how Warren had been coming to him and his friend Jonathan and telling them to do things. He said he made us do things like he was on SVU. Actually, everything he said sounded like it was quoted from somewhere.

"So," Dawn piped up. "The First made you do what exactly? And how? It's not like it can actually, you know, hurt you are anything."

"Evil is very persuasive," he replied haughtily. "And I missed Warren," he whined. "But The First kinda reminded me of how bossy Warren was, and how I never received any affirmation from him." He rolled his eyes heavenward. "Would one word of support have been too much, after everything I did for him?"

Buffy dropped the guy and wiped her hand on her jeans. "So you figured out this thing wasn't Warren, and you came to me?" Her sister didn’t sound like she was buying that.

He dropped his eyes. "They kicked me out of the club," he whispered. "Because I wouldn't kill the pigs."

"Okay, you're really going to have to explain that," Buffy insisted.

"He wanted sacrifices, okay. He needed pig's blood. For something. But I just bought the blood because I..." He began sobbing like a little girl. Dawn sighed and went to go find some Kleenex. When she got back he was talking about how Jonathan drained him with his magic bone -- she really didn't want to know what that meant.

"When was that?" Buffy asked.

"About a week ago," he moaned.

"A week ago! And you're telling me this now, why?"

He took a deep breath and puffed himself up. "Look at me!" he screeched. He immediately deflated and slumped against the wall.

They both did really, really look at him. He was whippet thin and to say he had circles under his puffy red eyes would have been kind. His hair had gone grey in patches and there were stains that didn't bear much scrutiny on his clothes.

There was also the smell. He probably hadn't bathed in a week either.

"Your friend, he drained you pretty good, didn't he?" Buffy said quietly.

"Help me, please," he whispered. Without drama this time.

Buffy just nodded, all wise and solemn. "Give us a minute, 'kay?"

Dawn followed her into the kitchen. "What are you going to do with this freak?" she asked.

Buffy shrugged. "Protect him, I guess, at least as long as he's got anything useful to tell us. I'll have to talk to Mom. Or maybe Anya. Our place is kinda small."

Dawn frowned. "You know, he was trying to kill you not that long ago."

Her sister frowned. "Sometimes they get over that." There was the slightest smile and then, "Others don't. So until we know what this guy is up to, we might as well get as much intelligence out of him as we can."

Dawn snorted. "Good luck with that." This Andrew guy wasn't striking her as chock-full of intelligence.

"If Jonathan did some magic on this guy, we should probably have Willow take a look at him. She might be able to get the rest of the story out of him, too." Buffy made a deep thoughts face. "In the meantime, I guess we should 'protect' him." She grinned at Dawn and raised one eyebrow. "Wanna help me get him downstairs and chain him up?"

Dawn chuckled. "You know, I really enjoy our quality sister bonding time."

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Joyce unfolded the paper and immediately wished she hadn't. It shouldn't have surprised her, after the attack on her house, that a mess of dead young women had been found. Whatever those things were, uber vampires or whatever her daughter had called him, they had to eat and it wasn't hard to guess what their prey might be.

With trembling fingers she brought her coffee cup to her lips and tried to read the details without really absorbing them. Slit throats. The bodies had been drained, but there was no sign of a bite. Meaning that it was entirely possible that nothing supernatural had murdered the seven college students. It might be nothing more extraordinary than regular human evil.

Which was even worse.

Joyce put her coffee cup down. Suddenly the smell was sickening to her. She folded the paper and reluctantly shoved it into her purse. Either way, she was going to have to show the article to her daughter.

-------

Faith punched the hanging bag, hard. Octavia grunted, but held the bag fast. Faith knew she was supposed to be training the younger girl, but she has some frustration she needed to let out first. After a few more satisfying jabs, she took a bouncing step back and tossed her gloves aside.

"Should we spar or something?" she asked.

Octavia looked her over carefully. "You know what? You're kinda scary right now. I'd rather not invite you to hit me, if that's okay."

Faith took a deep breath and leaned against the wall. She'd finally stopped calling. Willow was not going to turn her into some desperate, clingy chick leaving dozens of messages. The first dozen was plenty. Willow would either call her back or not. And if not, then fuck her. "Sorry, my girlfriend's on the rag this week or something. It's making me all twitchy."

"Um, okay. Aren't you going out with my principal though?"

Faith blinked at the younger slayer. "Excuse me?"

"Melody Kendall was in here buying candles or something and saw you two talking about getting coffee or whatever. Said you two were big with the flirting and the goo-goo eyes."

"Oh." Damn. "No, I'm not dating your principal." But if that's what some dumb kid had picked up on, then probably Willow was thinking the same thing. So she'd flirted with the guy. It wasn't like they'd thrown down right there on the research table. And if Willow was pisssed, she could have said something. But Goddess forbid Willow get her back up unless she was doing something for Buffy.
Besides, what was the big deal? It wasn't like she and Willow were a real couple, right? They were just having fun, just scratching an itch. It wasn't like she was falling for Willow, not like she really cared.
Getting involved with someone like that, always a bad plan. A girl had to protect herself. Willow wasn't what she really wanted anyway, she just had a little bit of something Faith wanted for the moment. Whatever happened, she didn't really give a shit, it wasn't going to bother her whichever way it when. It was just a thing, just a little temporary warmth, and she could walk away at any time. She was always free to walk. Willow didn't really mean anything to her.
"Are you okay?" Octavia asked earnestly. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"Smack the bag around for awhile, kid. I gotta make a phone call."


-------

Buffy had felt like the day was never going to end. She pillowed her head on Spike's arm and watched him breath in his sleep. They hadn't had sex. A real rarity on any day since she'd moved in with him. Under the circumstances though, neither of them was in the mood.

Piles of drained girls didn't get Spike excited like they used to.

She shuddered and pressed her lips to his shoulder, willing those thoughts away. The past was past, and she wanted to keep it there. And these dead students were her fault anyway. The whole thing with The First was her fault. She'd woken the slayers; she'd unsettled the balance.

But that was her job! Wasn't it? Wasn't she supposed to turn the tide for good? Or did the Powers think the slayer was just supposed to do enough good to maintain some sort of status quo? In which case, the stupid Powers could bite her.

She rolled over onto her own side of the bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. It just wasn't a snuggly night. Tomorrow she and Faith would open up the slayer emergency kit and see what it could tell them. In the meantime she might as well try to get some sleep.

There were lockers up and down the hallway. The seemed to go on forever no matter how long she walked. Footsteps echoed in the empty corridor. There was a door at the end, light shining through the jamb, but she couldn't seem to reach it.

"You've got to stop beating yourself up over this, Buff."

Xander's sneakers were untied. Drops of blood spattered the floor between his feet.

"I let it in, Xander. Their blood is on my hands." She held up her stained palms. "And there's going to be more."

They walked on in silence. A clock over the lockers ticked frantically, but the second hand was stuck. "Oh, don't worry, that clock is wrong anyway," Xander reassured her. "You'll know the hour when it comes."

"I wouldn't want to be late."

"You won't be."

"How will I know what to do?"

Xander squeezed her hand. "You always figure it out, don't you?"

They had reached the end of the hall. Buffy didn't want to open the door, but she reached for the knob anyway.

"Oh, no," Xander stopped her. "You've already gone through that door." He gestured toward another pathway where the standard-issue hallway tile ran out, this one dark and shapeless. "It's time for something new."

She gripped his hand tight, and marched forward.


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If you’re not familiar with Ben Folds' Protection, do give it a listen. I was listening one day and thought that the voice sounded like Faith (the poetic ‘voice’, not Ben’s singing voice). It really fits with how I’ve been approaching her in writing the Faith/Willow relationship. Anyhoodle, next time… Shadow Men! I have it drafted, so there should be only a small gap between posts. Feedback is treasured, always.