Enemy IncognitoBy Wynn
Chapter Nine: Five by Five
"Faith."The name reverberated through the shop, echoing off walls, twisting around the four witnesses to its utterance, an invisible cord capturing all within its web of potential dangers and past deceptions. Faith had returned to Sunnydale.
The rogue Slayer remained by the open door. She watched Buffy, waiting for the blonde to react to her presence, with words, with fists, or with both. Yet Buffy remained mute and still, hazel eyes fixed on Faith. A minute passed, then two with no movement and no sound. Faith glanced from Buffy to Dawn, still rooted next to the metal table, then at Giles, standing calmly and staring at her, before returning her gaze to Buffy. Obviously the first move was up to her.
Faith set her bag on the floor and Buffy edged around the metal table. The blonde Slayer walked towards the center of the room while the brunette moved away from the entrance. They stopped a few paces away from each other, bodies tense with anticipation, the past betrayals returning to the forefront with a vengeance. A veil of lies hung between the two women, the two chosen to harbor the strength and skill to fight the forces of darkness. One light. One dark. Both deadly.
Faith glanced at the papers in her hand. They were her salvation, her proof that she had been released instead of escaped from prison. Returning her gaze to Buffy, she relaxed her stance and stretched out her hand, the papers dangling at the tips of her fingers.
Buffy arched an eyebrow. Her eyes flickered from the documents, to Giles, then back to Faith. A minute passed before Buffy lifted her hand. Her fingertips brushed the edge of the papers when a movement at the back of the bare shop captured her attention. The door to the training room had opened.
Faith turned and saw a black eyed Willow staring at her. Her release papers were snatched out of her hand; they shot across the Magic Box and were plucked out of the air by Willow. She scanned the documents, lips curling in a smirk.
"They let you out of prison?"
Faith folded her arms across her body. "Yeah."
Willow strolled into the center of the shop as she said, "They shouldn't have. Not after what you've done. You've murdered and tortured people. You don't deserve freedom."
Faith stiffened. Her eyes hardened and a deadly smirk appeared on her face. "Well, I guess you're the expert on these things. After all you've done some torturing yourself. I have to say skinning a man alive, nice work. Very evil. I didn't know you had it in you, Willow. *I* don't have the balls to do something like that, and I'm a convicted-"
Willow's eyes flashed. Faith flew through the air, crashing into the shop's front window. Shards of glass rained down on her as she landed on the sidewalk, small chunks of the broken window digging into her back, hands, and thighs. She drew in a few ragged breaths, her dark eyes wide and fixed on the fluffy white clouds that drifted on the morning breeze. "Oh, fuck." The sound of heels on pavement caused the brunette to sit up. She saw Anya sprinting down the street, followed closely by Xander. As the blonde vengeance demon passed under a streetlight, she teleported, reappearing next to Faith.
"Faith! Are you Ok?" Anya kneeled and brushed a few shards of glass off of her body.
"I'm five by five."
"What happened?"
Faith groaned as she stood. She examined the jagged edges of the broken window and said, "Pissed Willow off."
Xander reached the entrance to the shop, out of breath, confusion and concern on his face. "What? What happened? Willow?" He peered into the interior of the Magic Box. His eyes widened as Willow sauntered out of the shop, green eyes blackened from magic.
Buffy jumped through the destroyed window. She stepped in front of Willow, blocking her path to Faith, and said, "Willow, wait."
"No." Willow shifted to the right, but Buffy slid in front of her again.
"Don't do this Willow."
"Why-"
"Willow." Giles stood in the doorway, half draped in shadow, half bathed in light, holding a violet crystal in his hand. As Willow turned towards him, he said, voice low and smooth, "Willow, hear my voice. Focus on my voice. I want you to remember. Remember the green room. When I say, you will return to the green room. You will return and shut out all other sights and sounds. Return."
The crystal glimmered and Willow blinked once, twice. The black faded from her eyes as they drooped shut; her head tilted back slightly and she breathed deeply.
Xander stared at his best friend. "What did you do to her?"
Giles sighed. "I returned her to the state of meditation she had been in. It's a form of hypnosis, only more powerful thanks to this." He held up the violet crystal. It sparkled in the brilliant light of day.
Anya stepped close to Giles and examined the shimmering gemstone. "A voltaia crystal. I haven't seen one of these in two centuries."
"They are rare. This one has been in my family for generations. We, uh, used it as a paperweight." His face tightened as he looked at Willow; he removed his glasses and rubbed a hand across his forehead. "Xander, could you take Willow to the back and sit her on the sofa? She should be under for the next hour or so."
Xander nodded and gripped Willow's slack hand. He pulled on her arm, tugging her forward, and led her back into the building.
"So," Buffy said, placing her hands on her hips. She faced Faith, who was picking glass shards from the palm of her hand. "How did you know about Willow?"
Anya spoke before Faith could answer. "I told her."
"You what?"
Anya tore her gaze from the gleaming crystal and directed it towards Buffy. Irritation was evident in her brown eyes. "I told Faith about Willow."
Placing the crystal in the pocket of his jeans, Giles asked, "When did you, ah, talk to Faith?"
"A few days ago." Anya glanced at Giles' crystal laden pocket and frowned. She moved away from him, walking over to Faith and carefully brushing a few slivers of glass from Faith's hair.
Buffy gaped at the two women. "A few *days* ago? You talked to her a few days ago? And you didn't think to tell us about it?"
"I thought about it. I just decided not to say anything."
"You what?"
Giles interrupted the brewing argument. He peered at Faith and Anya. "Where did you two, ah, have the opportunity to talk? In prison?"
Faith and Anya glanced at each other. The blonde shrugged, grimacing as she watched Faith tug on a splinter of glass in her hand. Rolling her eyes, Faith tossed the splinter on the ground and said, "Not exactly. We crossed paths in L.A."
"In L.A.?"
Anya sighed. "At Angel's. And before you ask, Buffy, I will not tell you why I was at Angel's. This interrogation is finished."
"Anya," Giles said, "we're trying to understand why Faith has returned to Sunnydale. This is not an interrogation."
Faith pointed at the shop. "The answer's right there."
Dawn poked her head out of the broken window. She lifted her hand and waved Faith's release papers in front of everyone. Her long legs arched over the jagged window as she stepped outside. She handed the papers to Giles and said, "Thought you all might need these. All they say is that Faith was released from prison under your care. You're supposed to be her Watcher again."
Giles scrutinized the documents. "The Council never mentioned anything about your release. Although with everything that has occurred in the last month or so, we wouldn't have noticed if they had tried."
Buffy looked inside the Magic Box. "She needs to be taken to the coven. Now. Before she loses control again."
Giles nodded. "I know." His gaze flickered from the shop to Faith and back again.
"I'll take her." Five faces turned towards Xander, who leaned against the doorjamb. He said to Giles, "You'll have your hands full with Faith now, and Buffy still has to get a new job. I'm the next best one to take Willow to England."
"Xander, are you sure?"
"Yeah. She won't do anything to me. Just tell me where this coven is so I can make plane reservations."
"I will in a moment." He examined Faith, taking in her multiple cuts and shredded clothing. "It would be best if we continued this tomorrow. You need to get those cuts cleaned and bandaged. Do you, ah, have someplace to stay for the night?"
"She's staying with me," Anya said, looking at Faith for confirmation. As the brunette nodded, Anya returned her gaze to Giles. Past the Watcher, she could see Xander. His face was set in a stony mask; he pivoted and walked back into the store.
Giles nodded slightly. "Alright. Faith, be here at 10am tomorrow. I need to know more about your release, as well as where you have been in the past few weeks. Anya, could you take her to the hospital?"
"Yes."
Faith nodded towards the Magic Box. "My bag. It's on the floor."
"I'll get it." Anya walked in the shop for a moment before returning with the bag. She glanced at the broken window and said, "What about-"
"I'll grab some plywood, cover it up," Buffy said. "Dawn can sweep up the glass."
Anya remained silent for a moment before flashing tight smile towards Buffy. "Thank you."
"No problem."
"Well," Anya said to Faith as the pair walked away from the Magic Box. They stepped onto the sidewalk and headed in the direction of the Sunnydale hospital. "You certainly know how to make an entrance. Though next time, could you not crash through the window of my store?"
***"How do you think she's doing?"
"Faith?"
"No, you git. The Queen Mum. Yes, Faith."
Spike and Angel sat on the roof of the Hyperion, the twinkling city of Los Angeles spread out beneath them. Clouds swirled overhead, a torrent mixture of blacks and greys threatening to rupture with a ripe thunderstorm. The sounds of the city drifted to the rooftop on the swirling winds; dogs barked and car horns blared, doors slammed shut and sirens wailed. The uncertainty of the storm had set the sprawling metropolis on edge.
"I don't know," Angel said. "She has a lot of history with Buffy. Most of it isn't pleasant. But they've both changed since their last encounter." He glanced at Spike out of the corner of his eye. "Why do you ask?"
"No reason. Just curious."
"Hmm. Are you nervous about going back?"
"No. Why would I be nervous? I'm only returning to the town where everyone hates me to apologize to the woman I love for almost raping her. I have nothing to be nervous about."
"Not everyone hates you. Anya doesn't hate you."
"That's because I don't treat her like a freak for being a demon."
"And that guy you told me about, what was his name?"
"Clem."
"He doesn't hate you."
Spike sighed and leaned back on his hands. He stared into the night sky, eyes hidden in shadow. "No," he murmured, "he doesn't hate me either. That's two out of a whole town."
"Two is better than none."
"Not if it's not the right two." He sat up, drawing a leg up and setting an elbow on it. He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and said, "Am I crazy for going back?"
Angel studied the younger vampire for a minute before responding. "No. There's nothing crazy about trying to set things right."
"Guess not." Spike turned his face towards the sky. The clouds parted, revealing a glimpse of the star laden heavens. The pale light of the moon danced over his features, highlighting the creases around his eyes and mouth. "I found a girl sitting outside just like this once. Looking at the stars. It was 1936, not so many lights around back then, so you could see them better than you can now. She was so intent on the stars that she didn't even notice I was there until I sat down next to her. She wasn't even afraid of me. Just started naming the stars and pointing out the different constellations that she knew. I snapped her neck when she got to Orion and took her back home to Dru for a midnight snack." He looked at Angel now, tears flowing freely down his face. "I didn't even care. I just slung her dead body over my shoulder and carted her back to Dru. How do you set something like that right?"
"You can't."
Spike raked a hand across his face, viciously wiping at the tears that stained his cheeks. "I know," he whispered.
"But apologizing to Buffy isn't the same thing as trying to atone for all of the people you've killed. You try to do that, and you'll get sucked into the past and dwell in all of the misery you caused, all the pain you created. I spent eighty years like that. Reliving every moment I stalked someone, every moment I drained their blood and threw their body to the side like a piece of garbage. And it nearly drove me insane."
One corner of Spike's mouth quirked up. "So that's what I have to look forward to? A padded room and my own custom made straight jacket?" He glanced at Angel and shrugged. "Better than 500 years in a hell dimension I suppose."
Angel shook his head. "No. It's not." He watched the clouds float over the exposed stars, blanketing the world in darkness once again. "It takes a lot to admit a mistake. Takes even more to apologize for it." He looked at Spike as the first crackle of thunder sounded in the distance. Angel stood and dug into the pocket of his black jacket; he pulled out a slim book, wiped the cover clean, and handed it to Spike. "Something for those moments when the past comes back to haunt you."
Spike examined the object held in his hands. It was a book of poetry.
***The Hellmouth loves to keep the status quo. One vampire's dusted, another vampire rises. One person dies, only to be reincarnated as a ghost. And one unstable woman who's tortured and killed left town just as another unstable woman who's tortured and killed arrived. Buffy sighed as she crossed Main Street, the remnants of yesterday's storm clouds obscuring the midmorning sunlight. Thunder, rain, and lightning had drenched Sunnydale the night before. Thunderstorms on the Hellmouth usually caused the resident evil to come out and play, so last night was a fun-filled, water-soaked, mud-covered slaying adventure for Buffy. The quiet that usually signaled the arrival of summer in Sunnydale had been obliterated by a brunette in black leather and a red head, black eyed Wicca.
Buffy stopped in front of a large brick building with mirrored windows. A plain sign with the word "Mossino's" engraved on it hung over the glass doors. She glanced at the newspaper advertisement in her hand, then back at the small plaque designating the building's address. This was the right place. Buffy stuffed the scrap of paper in the back pocket of her jeans and pushed open the heavy door. The inside of the building was spacious. It had a high ceiling sprinkled with skylights; fluorescent lights buzzed softly, illuminating the airy interior. To the right of the door sat weights, treadmills, and various other exercise machines. A small office lay directly across from the front doors, and a narrow hallway running alongside the edge of the office headed towards changing rooms. An arched entryway on the left side of the building led to a large, empty room. Stepping away from the entrance, Buffy walked through the entryway into the open area.
The right wall was covered in mirrors, which reflected the outside world peeking into the dojo through the windows. Two oak trophy cases stood against the far back wall; various plaques and certificates filled the space surrounding the cases. Buffy approached the cases; they were filled with first place awards for Tony Mossino from numerous martial arts competitions. Some were in the weapons division, others in full contact sparring, stretching back ten years.
"Do you need something?"
Buffy spun at the sound of the rough voice behind her. A tall, broad shouldered man leaned against the entryway, arms folded across his chest. He had close cropped dark hair and light colored eyes, and he wore a pair of loose black pants and a white tank top. "Yeah. A job."
The man raised an eyebrow, his eyes slowly drifting from the top of her head down to her toes. A smirk appeared on his face as he said, "Beauty parlor's down the street."
Buffy stared at the man for a moment before a tight smile flashed across her face. She placed her hands on her hips and said, "I'm looking for Tyler Mossino. The ad in the newspaper said this place needed a new self-defense instructor."
"I'm Tyler." He pushed off the wall and sauntered into the room, eyes fixed on Buffy's lithe form and honey colored curls. "And like I said, the beauty parlor's down the street."
Sighing, Buffy folded her arms across her chest and moved towards Tyler. "Just give me a shot. I have self-defense training and I'm stronger than I look."
"You don't look strong enough to break a twig."
"Good thing you're not a twig."
Tyler closed his eyes and sighed. Pointing towards the back of the building, he said, "Alright, alright. I'll give you a shot. There's some pads in the locker room-"
"I won't need pads. You might though."
Tyler snorted. "I doubt it."
"You won't."
They headed for the center of the room and faced each other. Tyler bowed, lips curling into a smile. "Just to be nice, I'll give you the first shot."
Buffy rolled her eyes. She threw an easy punch which he blocked and countered with one of his own. Buffy dodged to the right and dropped down, right leg swooping out to knock Tyler off of his feet. He jumped at the last second, momentarily thrown by her speed and agility. He aimed a right jab at Buffy. Blocking the punch, she darted to the left and lashed out with a hard kick to the ribs, knocking him to the floor. He flipped up, focused, mouth in a grim line. Tyler rushed her, preparing for a shot to her gut, when she ducked and used his momentum to throw him over her shoulder. He landed on the floor with a thud, knocking the breath out of him. Buffy placed a foot on his chest and looked down on him smiling.
"Do I have the job? Or do you need another demonstration?"
Tyler closed his eyes and chuckled softly. He ran a hand over his short, black hair; he opened his eyes and glanced at the tiny blonde who had bested him within two minute. Maneuvering into a sitting position, he said, "You have the job."
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