Some Say the Slayer is a Savior
or In Parallel
“We beat the big bad,” Rona said. “Be happy.”
“That wasn’t the big bad,” Buffy replied. “Cemtaur was the muscle. And his death won’t stop them.”
“Who?” Willow asked.
“The Watchers.” (8.18)
Giles wasn’t a fool. He could sense the change. On the surface Buffy and Faith were all smiles and friendliness. But he knew. For whatever reason, they’d stopped trusting him. He wasn’t too worried about regaining their confidence, though. It wasn’t important anymore. The only important thing was getting everything in place. Once he’d done that, none of it would matter. It would all be over before they even knew what was happening. (8.19)
“So, we’re talkin no new slayers.”
“Right,” said Buffy. “Then they can just wait for us to live out our tragically short lives and it’s over- no more slayers.”
“No more slayers,” Xander said. “No more humanity. How can the watchers possibly consider that a win?”
“They’re afraid,” Buffy answered. (8.19)
“You have to end it,” Blue said weakly. “The war. You have to push them back once and for all.”
“What? All the demons? That’s impossible.”
“You have to. No source - no new slayers. You have to end it now.”
“I can’t,” Buffy whispered. “I- we’re not nearly strong enough.”
Blue shook her head and reached out to stroke Buffy’s face. “You think you know- what you are- what’s to come. You haven’t even begun.”
“What does that mean?” Buffy yelled. “I am so fucking tired of this. What am I? What’s to come?”
Blue smiled up at her for a moment, then her smile faded and her eyes went blank. (8.19)
Cathy lived and died in the town where she was born. A town beset by two plagues. The plague that took them slowly by sickness and the plague that took them quickly by night. By the time she was fifteen she was working full time at her father’s pub. It was a decent life. She loved the quiet that came after the drunks had fallen asleep. When they slept they were no longer grabbing hands and crude jokes. She could love them for a time and not resent all that she gave up to keep them safe. Still, her last thought as Lothos’ teeth tore out her throat was, ‘I hate them. I hate them for demanding this of me.’
Asako was alone. Always alone. When she was young she enjoyed it. Walking in the forest past the village boundaries, she felt free, invincible. But three years later, after hundreds of nights of hunting the forest alone, after her parents, and her watcher had died and left her to fight, the solitude was no longer a comfort. And when she felt her blood flow from her body, too fast for even slayer healing to abate, she was glad.
Ruth had it easier than the other slaves. Beatings were nothing. Even the deepest cuts healed over night. And escape was more than a dream whispered furtively in the night. She could flee any time she liked. Run faster and farther than their chains could reach. But she never did. Never would. She couldn’t leave her family to be picked off by the shadows. She stayed and fought and died.
Nayana hated her Watcher. Hated his people and their dominance of her land. She was a princess, daughter of kings. She was not made to bow, to obey. Not to a foreigner who defiled the holy places. But there was a greater evil than this man. An evil only she could stop. So she fought at his side until a demon infected her with a toxin so relentless that not even slayer healing could halt it. She was certain it was a trick of the light but it seemed that as she lay dying a tear formed in her Watcher’s eye.
Bai was thirteen when she started selling her body to feed her brother and sister. Fifteen when she found their bodies in the alley behind the warehouse where they lived. The demons hovering over them were eviscerated in seconds. And in the following three years she hunted continually, stopping only to steal food and sleep a few hours a day. Her legend grew and for decades after her death demons were too frightened to go near Hong Kong.
Maura was a good girl. Went to church, prayed, obeyed her parents and her Watcher. It made no difference what he asked of her. It was God’s command and when he ordered her to cross the Atlantic and travel to Boston she did not hesitate. She knew her mother was dying, that she wouldn’t get back in time to be with her. Still she went. It was not for her to question the will of God. If it was her lot to suffer this affliction, she would do it gladly. Still, in the seconds before the life was choked out of her, a small part of her couldn’t help hating Him for making her fight His war.
Serene was lucky, they said. Light enough to pass. Light enough to be a part of that world. She could marry, if she chose, live in a nice house, never want. But she had no desire to be closeted away. Her life was hers and she could abide no one’s rules. She left right after her father died, took his trade and made a life for herself in countless towns across the west, pausing only long enough to rid the town of demons. All the while she was pursued by a man, her Watcher. When he found her, when he plunged the knife into her heart she had only one question, “Why?” He had no answer. He had known, it had seemed so clear just moments before. She was a rebel, a danger. But looking into her lifeless eyes, he could think of nothing that could justify such an act.
Arabella was no great beauty. Nose too large, eyes too small, mind too broad and sharp. Most girls were shocked to silence, their minds stupefied at the sight of a man exploding into dust. But Arabella took it in stride, her mind grasping and incorporating the new data without pausing. Where most girls were denial and fear she was curiosity and wonder. But she didn’t let her delight in her new world distract from her work. More than the cemeteries, Hell’s Kitchen was where she was needed. Her days were filled with healing and her nights with killing until a young Dresnik demon took a particular interest in her, hunted her charges, and systematically killed every person she helped until she stopped caring. She gave up on being a nurse, gave up on being Arabella and became the slayer
Nikki’s greatest fear was outliving her son, a fear instilled by countless lectures from her Watcher. “It’s madness,” he said. “A grisly murder waiting to happen.” It made her a target, made her weak. He wanted her to get an abortion, insisted on it more than once. She was so frightened that she went into hiding after her first trimester. When he finally tracked her down, Robin was four months and it was love at first sight. Her Watcher reported back to the council, told them the child was still born. But even with his support, the strain of motherhood and slaying was exhausting. She didn’t want to die. She didn’t want to leave her son. But she desperately wanted to rest.
Dana remembered all of them. All the way back to Shineya, first of the ones. She remembered the shadow men, the chains, the pain and fear. She could remember the exact look of horror and wonder in their eyes when they realized what they had unleashed on the world. She remembered the fearful worship of the villagers who praised her as a savior and cast her out as an abomination.
All of the slayers had connections to the ones who came before and the ones around them. But for Dana these memories were not blurry fragments of battles. They weren’t memories at all. They were her own experiences. So much so that she was often confused when the nurses brought her pills instead of the jewels befitting a queen. So much so that, though the source was unclear, Faith and Buffy’s grief was as her own.
Buffy was too shocked to do anything. She looked down at her trembling hands, then back to Blue’s passive face. She was barely aware of Faith kneeling beside her and reaching out to stroke the iridescent skin. “She’s so pretty,” Faith said so quietly that Buffy barely heard her. “I never got to thank her.”
Buffy was too dazed to process Faith’s words and too stricken to speak. She looked at her quizzically.
Faith took a calming breath and continued, “She believed in me. Believed I could be the slayer. God knows what she saw in me… She saved me.” Tears welled in her eyes but she pushed them down, stood up and said, “I’m going to end every last one of those mother fuckers.”
Buffy had a vague idea that she should protest, hold her back. She could hear her voice pleading, “No Faith, they’re still human.” But the words didn’t come out. Instead she stood up beside her and said. “Save a few for me.”
“Did it work?” Dawn asked anxiously as Buffy and Faith walked through the portal, followed by Spike and the girls.
Faith and Buffy didn’t answer. They just walked over to the table where a few assorted weapons lay out and grabbed a couple extra arrows, strapped on additional knives, and walked out of the meeting room.
“What’s going on?” Xander asked. “We won, didn’t we? I mean-”
Spike shook his head. “No, we were too late. The girls swore blood vengeance. God help the Watchers, and… you’re pretty much up to speed.”
“They’re going to kill the Watchers?” Kennedy asked. “But, they’re human. I mean- aren’t there rules?”
“You wanna try tellin’ them that? Have a ball and wear some sort of armor,” Spike replied.
“You seem pretty ok with Faith and Buffy committing murder,” Xander said. “You lose something in the portal?”
“Blue was good. Beat the crap out of me, sure. But she was good. And she loved those girls like they were her own. Buffy and Faith wanna kill the people who murdered the closest thing to a mum they got left, they’ve got my blessing.”
“They’re human beings,” Xander countered.
“They’ve just assured the world a long and painful death,” Spike replied.
“Buffy wait,” Dawn called as she ran across the foyer.
Buffy turned at the door and looked back at her. Her eyes were hollow.
“Buffy, I don’t think this is the best idea.”
“Why’s that?”
Dawn registered the emptiness of her voice, thought better of the logic approach and went with fear. “Because we don’t know who’s leaking them information. They might be ready for you.”
“Let them get ready,” Faith said. “It’s only sporting.”
“What if the place is rigged to explode, huh? Didja think of that? That’s not something you can fight,” Dawn said triumphantly, then waited for Faith and Buffy’s reaction. The idea of being blown into little bitty bits wasn’t fazing them as much as she had hoped. “And, and, then what will happen to the girls?” Dawn asked. “Without your guidance the Watchers will pick them off one by one.”
Buffy turned to Faith. Faith nodded and turned to Dawn. “Fine, we’ll wait- An hour.”
“Anybody else feel weird?” Caridad asked, looking at the space where the portal had been.
“Yeah,” Rona replied. “Kinda lonely.”
“Like all your life you’ve been watched by a benevolent force and now that force is dead and you still here, all alone?” Faith asked as she and Buffy walked back into the library, Dawn in tow.
“Woah Neitzche,” Xander said. “You didn’t even know this thing.”
Faith shot him a look.
“Not thing. Bad choice of words. She wasn’t a thing. Am I allowed to say ‘demon’?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Faith replied.
“Right, how could I? I’m not in the slayer club.”
“I’m grieving here. Don’t be pissy.”
“I’m not pissy. I just wish someone would explain to me when exactly murder became a part of the slayer mo.”
“It never wasn’t,” Buffy replied. “I’m gonna take a shower. Tell Clem to be ready to report his findings in a half hour.”
Buffy could feel his eyes on her but she didn’t want to acknowledge them. She continued to undress and look for shampoo until it got to be too much. “What?” she finally said.
“Can I come in?” Spike asked.
“Not if you’re gonna make me cry,” Buffy replied.
Spike winced as if she’d struck him.
“I’m not really in the mood to hear about what a failure I am. I don’t care if I’m shutting down, I need to, ok? I just need to get through this.”
Spike relaxed. “Right, no depressing pep talks. Today I will play the part of supportive boyfriend.”
Buffy turned to him. “I loved her,” she whispered.
“I know you don’t understand,” Faith said, looking around her room for something to focus on. “But I did know her. I knew her all my life. She was watching me, you know?”
Xander watched the tears forming in Faith’s eyes and decided to agree regardless of how little sense it made. “I know, it must’ve been hard to see her like that.”
“I never understood why we got the visions. Why these cryptic dreams. It was her. She was trapped there but she wanted to help-”
“So she reached out into our dreams and tried to warn us,” Buffy said as she stepped into the bathtub.
“She was a good mum,” Spike agreed.
“And now, now-”
“We have to end it,” Faith said.
“It?” Xander asked.
“The war. Now, before we’re all too old and dead.”
“Which means?”
“I have no idea,” Buffy replied as she leaned forward to rest her head on Spike’s shoulder.
Above the lavender in the bath water he could smell her fear. And the weariness in her voice fairly well shouted her pain. There was only one thing he could think to say to distract her.
“I was a poet.”
Buffy furrowed her brow and thought for a moment. She couldn’t quite process the words. It was if he had said, “I am a chicken foot.” Then she remembered his room and that hair. She let out a brief burst of laughter and buried her face in his shoulder.
“’Snot that funny.”
Buffy sat up and wrapped her arms around his chest. “No, it’s really not. I’m just- stressed and-” she took a deep breath. “That was really random.”
“Just tryin’ to cheer you up.”
“Good job,” Buffy replied. “So, you wrote poetry.”
Spike hung his head. “Yes. Let the mocking commence.”
“I’m not mocking. I’m just, you know - curious.”
“About how much mockery you can get out of this?”
“I just wonder – what kind of poetry? Like, rhyming?”
“Yes, like rhyming.”
“What about?”
Spike looked up and replied, “Trees.”
Buffy smiled and replied, “No, not trees.”
“Well, if you knew why did you ask?”
Buffy ignored the question entirely. “You wrote about love.”
Spike sighed. “Yes, my love of trees.”
“Hmm, again, lying. So, the question is – who were you writing poetry for?” she asked, her voice coming to a sharp point at the end.
Spike turned his head to eye her warily. “You cannot possibly be jealous of a woman who died hundreds of years ago.”
“Why can’t I? She got poetry. I got cattle prods.”
“Yes, cattle prods, exactly. I’ve tortured you enough for one lifetime without inflicting my poetry.”
“Aw, it can’t be that bad.”
“Can. Is,” Spike said emphatically.
Buffy leaned forward and kissed his cheek. “Pretty please.”
Spike knew he‘d cave. But the longer he held out the happier she‘d be. “No, haven’t you gotten enough of that sappy crap with your other boyfriends?”
“Riley and Angel,” Buffy replied, incredulously.
“Well, I guess not Riley. Bloke wasn’t even literate. But Angel must have sent you loads of love notes,” Spike said, his voice edged with mockery.
“Do threats against my mother’s life count?”
Spike turned to look at her again. Her eyes were down cast and little tendrils of hair matted her forehead. He couldn’t very well hold out after that. “Fine, I’ll write you a letter. Not a poem.”
“Ok,” Buffy sad, perking up immediately.
“No rhyming, you understand.”
“Ok, no rhyming.”
Faith smiled up at the ceiling. Maybe sex wasn’t the best way to solve your problems, but God it was fun.
Xander looked over nervously. “So-”
“Excellent. You were excellent.”
Xander smiled smugly. “I know. Just makin’ sure we’re on the same page.”
“I should feel guilty. I’m supposed to be planning a war.”
“There’s always time for some good Xander lovin’.”
Faith smiled, but her grin faded as she recalled Blue’s prone body. She turned away from Xander and sat on the edge of the bed.
Xander watched her bare back. There were a few scars, light ones. In a few more weeks they’d be gone but there’d be more to take their place. Faith stood up and pulled on a shirt.
“I’m here,” he said. “If you need anything. I’m the comfortador.”
Faith looked back at him. “Comfort’s good. But what I really need is muscle.”
Xander looked down, but Faith was too busy pulling on her pants to notice.
“So get your sword and be ready,” she said as she turned to go.
Xander looked up, “Wait, I’m not really the muscly type.”
“What? You took on those uber vamps.”
“Well, Dawn and sunlight did most the work.”
Faith looked at him quizzically. “You really think you’re some sort of house frau don’t you? You’re a fighter. You always used to patrol with Buffy.”
“That was before.”
“Before what?”
Xander pointed at his eye.
“So, turn your head a lot. You’ll be fine,” Faith said as she turned to go, leaving Xander ginning behind her.
Buffy would probably object, she’d want to keep him safe, out of the fray. She’d only let him fight last time cause they were desperate. Even before the eye, she’d always seen him as a friend more than a fighter. But Faith -. Xander got up to go polish his sword, and not in the double entendre way.
“So, Clem, what d’ya got for me?” Dawn asked cheerfully as she walked into Clem’s room.
Dawn was used to blood. Demon blood in particular, all its various colors and textures. It was easier to look at. Different enough that you never had to think about the demon’s death. It was just an object. An object that had stopped moving.
Despite the chartreuse color of the blood pooling around him, Clem wasn’t an object. The strangeness of his blood didn’t stop his body from being a body and his death a death.
“Hey you ready?” Buffy asked as she walked in.
Dawn turned to look at her. “I’m ready for that blood vengeance now.”
Buffy looked around her to Clem’s corpse. “How the hell?”
“Oh, God,” Willow said as she came up behind her. “They must’ve snuck in while we were portal hopping.”
Buffy walked up to the body and furrowed her brow. “He knew something.”
“Great,” Dawn said. “When are we going to attack the Watchers?”
“Right now,” Faith replied as she walked in behind them.
Buffy turned to look at her. “Why?”
“Dana’s missing.”
“She escaped?” Buffy asked.
“I doubt it,” Faith replied.
“But I thought the Watcher’s game plan was to wait till you were dead. This isn’t waiting,” Willow said.
“I guess they’re finally getting off their asses. Not the most opportune moment,” Buffy replied.
“I don’t understand,” Willow said. “Why? Why provoke a war with us? Maybe the slayers won’t be around long term but they’ll be around long enough to kill a bunch of old guys.”
“We can’t play Freud right now. We’ve got to move,” Buffy said, turning toward the door as Anya was walking in.
“What’s going on? It smells like a Shurpi demon died in here,” Anya said as her eyes fell on Clem. “Oh.”
“Someone needs to go through his notes and figure out why they offed him,” Faith said.
Anya looked over at Dawn’s eerily passive face. “I’ll do it,” she said.
“Thanks,” Dawn said without looking at her. “There’s something I need to do.” She pried her eyes away from the blood and walked out the door.
Anya carefully nudged Clem’s body away from the table and started going through his notes.
“Maybe we should bring Giles in,” Buffy said. “I mean – he would have insight into the Watcher mentality.”
“But we still don’t know if he’s safe,” Faith replied.
“About that,” Anya said.
All three girls looked over to where Anya was clutching Clem’s papers.
“What?” Buffy asked, absolutely certain she didn’t want to know.
“Giles isn’t here.”
“That’s good, isn’t it?” Faith replied.
“No, I mean he was never interviewed.”
“Maybe he just got busy,” Willow offered.
Buffy was about to agree when her cell phone rang. She looked down at the screen. “Spaz?”
“Oh,” Anya said. “I was bored so I changed all the names in your phone book. It’s Andrew.”
“Fantastic.” Buffy hit answer and prayed he just wanted to tell her he thought he’d spotted Pierce Brosnan again.
“Hi, Buffy. It’s Andrew.”
“Yes, I know.”
“Well you know how you told me to keep an eye on Mr. Giles?”
Buffy took a deep breath. “Yes.”
“Well, is the council going to reimburse me for airfare?”
“What?” Buffy exclaimed
“Cause the ticket’s non refundable.”
“Where are you?”
“Somewhere near Nova Scotia?”
“Nova Scotia,” Buffy replied. “What’s he doing on his way to Nova Scotia?”
“Getting the hell away from us,” Faith muttered. “Smart.”
Dawn stood at the doorway to Giles’ office for a long moment before taking the first steps toward the cabinet that held the book. She walked slowly and deliberately toward it, opened the doors and as if in a trance- lifted the book off the shelf and put it on Giles’ desk. She was going to sit at the table but she hesitated for a second at the memory of the book’s eerie green glow. But then her memory of the book was replaced by the image of Clem’s body and she went on.
She sat perfectly erect at the table and undid the clasp on the cover.
Dana was used to waking up in the restraints. But steel- that was new. She looked anxiously around the room and found three men watching her from the corner. “The little animal finally wakes up,” the middle one said with a leer.
Dana wanted to speak, wanted to be brave, quip. Buffy would quip. But she couldn’t. Words wouldn’t come. “Fucking savage,” the second one muttered. “Can’t even talk. These are the great saviors of humanity?”
The other two chuckled at the thought.
“Why are we keeping her trussed up anyway?” Second asked.
Middle shrugged. “Orders.”
“Suicide’s more like it. No point in giving her the opportunity to get out and fucking decapitate us.”
“The council wants to question ‘er. It’s not our place to object.”
Back in the meeting room pandemonium had broken out. Several groups of girls talked in hushed whispers and looked around nervously. Spike was doing his best to allay their fears – but no one seemed to be buying his “Hey, everything’s alright. War- it’s a hoot” attitude and emotions were reaching a fever pitch.
Buffy walked in, surveyed the room and fought the urge to run and hide. Instead she walked up to the nearest chair and climbed up on it.
She stood patiently and waited for the girls to turn to her.
“The source is dead,” she announced. “There won’t be anymore slayers. We’re it. So we end it now, destroy the demons entirely, or accept that humanity will be wiped out within a few generations.”
“Is that even possible?” Caridad asked.
“We’re gonna make it possible,” Buffy replied with more conviction than she felt. “So this is your last chance. Go and live long, happy lives, or stay and die in the coming war.”
‘Oh, God,’ Spike thought. ‘She really blows at this motivational stuff.’
Buffy stepped off the chair and turned to Spike. “I’m really hoping they pick turn and run.”
“No you aren’t.”
“I really kinda am,” she replied with a sigh. “Alright. Let’s go,” Buffy said as she walked out of the room.
“Where?” Spike asked, following her into the hallway.
“I was hoping you knew.”
“Hey,” Xander said as they approached. “When’s the battle?”
“Hour or so,” Buffy replied. “Could you help Anya with Clem’s stuff? It’s not the most organized-“
“Nope.”
“What?”
“I’m coming with.”
“Listen, I know you want to help but-“
“Hey sexy bitch,” Faith said as she came up to stand beside Xander.
“Hey,” he said and gave her a quick kiss.
“Ready to take on some wrinkly ass old men?” she asked.
“You make it sound so sexy,” Xander replied.
“Listen, Faith,” Buffy began, “I was thinking maybe Xander could-“
“Stow it B. He’s coming. I’ll fight better if I know he’s watching my back.”
Buffy looked from Xander to Faith. “Ok,” she said. “Let’s go study their floor plan.”
Rona knew she’d stay. It wasn’t really a question. There was nothing left for her in her old life. Her mother was dead- her father had long since ceased to call. None of her family accepted her choice. Most still thought she was insane. Despite their troubled beginning- Buffy was the closest thing she’d ever had to a sister and she couldn’t think of abandoning her.
Megan was a smart girl. Smart enough to know that Buffy and Faith had no idea what they were doing. But she was also a faithful girl and she believed that good would triumph and if it needed her to fight its battles she would.
Caridad was in love. For the first time since the bringers had driven her away from her home- she felt safe and loved. She wanted more than anything to go to him- tell him to pack a bag and just go as far away from the fighting as they could get. But as far as they could get still wouldn’t be far enough to escape their screams.
An hour later Buffy returned to a considerably calmer scene in the meeting room. She looked around, did a quick headcount and whirled around to look at Spike.
“They all stayed,” she said.
“You didn’t think they would?”
“Well I thought some of them would go. What is wrong with these girls? They’re gonna die.”
“You always stay.”
“Yes, and there is clearly something very wrong with me.”
Spike rolled his eyes and gave her a shove. “Go be the leader. Makes me hot.”
Buffy rolled her eyes back and turned to address the girls. She took a deep breath and said, “Slayers don’t kill people. It’s a rule. And we try to follow it. But they will kill Dana and they will kill you if given the chance. I’m not saying it’s easy. I’m just saying – we do what we have to do.”
Anya was sitting in Clem’s room, going though his personal effects when she caught sight of something out of the corner of her eye. She looked up, startled at the sight of a stranger in the doorway. It took a few seconds to place the stranger as Dawn. “What the hell happened to you?” Anya asked.
Dawn turned to look at the source of the sound but it took her a few seconds to process the meaning. “Nothing,” she finally answered. “Where’s Buffy?”
“She and the Power Puff army are slaughtering nursing home rejects.”
“Excellent. Any word on motive?
“No one knows,” Anya replied, then eyed Dawn again. “You sure you’re ok?”
Dawn nodded and took a deep breath. “I can end it.”
Anya’s eyes went wide. “You mean the ‘it’ we’ve been on about all day? The eternal war between demons and humans- ‘it’?”
Dawn nodded. “I need to talk to Buffy.”
“Well, the massacre of the geriatrics shouldn’t take long,” Anya said as she turned over another piece of paper.
“Ok, well I’ll be reading.”
Dawn turned to go but Anya stopped her with an, “Oh crap.”
Dawn looked back at her.
“I know why they took Dana.”
“Why?” Dawn asked.
“She knew who their spy was.”
“How?”
“Her super creepy slayer psychic connection.”
“Oh crap.”
Buffy kicked in the front door of the Watcher’s headquarters and walked in. Faith, Spike, Xander and twenty of the girls followed her. The girls looked up in awe at the enormous marble foyer. On either side of the room staircases spiraled up to a balcony above.
“Are we in the matrix?” Spike asked.
“Why don’t you try to run up the wall and we’ll see?” Xander replied.
“I assure you, this is real,” Harold said as he walked into the foyer with five other Watchers. “You’re very predictable. You know?” he added, addressing Buffy.
“Well, when you have a heart your actions have a certain logic. Guess that’s why you’ve been two steps ahead.”
“No, Ms. Summers. We’re two steps ahead because we’re superior.”
Buffy looked at him sadly. “You really believe that.”
“I know it. You’re no better than the demons you fight. Without the Watchers to guide you,” he said, turning to look at Faith. “You’re like rabid dogs. And like any good master, it’s our duty to put you down.”
Buffy smiled. “How, exactly?”
Harold stepped back and said, “Fight fire with fire.”
Suddenly the room filled with demons. The girls were shocked, but also a little relieved to be facing demon foes. Harold and two of his followers took the opportunity to dart out through a side door.
“Faith, stay with the girls. I’ll get Mr. Belvedere,” Buffy yelled as she took off after them.
Faith started to protest but beside her Megan narrowly missed having her arm cut off at the shoulder.
“Kill one for me,” Faith shouted in Buffy’s direction and reached up to block the demon’s next blow while Megan recovered.
Dana’s guards grew alarmed at the sound of fighting downstairs. “What the hell?” Middle asked and got up to look out the door.
The other two followed.
“They’re attacking,” one said, then crumpled to the floor.
The other two looked back at Dana’s sly smile. “Good restraints. Quality. Some of the best I’ve ever encountered.” She held up her left wrist and shook off the last of the strap. “Not good enough.”
It didn’t take Buffy long to catch up with the Watchers. They knew the house better. But Buffy was faster and she could follow the vibrations of their heavy footsteps.
When she caught up with them they were on the far right of the balcony, making their way up a set of stairs leading to the roof. Buffy reached up and pulled the backs of their jackets, sending them sprawling onto the floor.
She stood over them, cross bow in hand. “Get up,” she commanded.
As Harold and the other two slowly got to their feet she got the first good look at their faces.
“You were there,” she said. “You stabbed her.”
The men backed away.
“Stop,” she shouted.
They halted.
“Are you going to kill us?” one asked. “Or don’t you have the balls? Always said the slayer should’ve been a man.”
Middle struck out at Dana and she backhanded him across the room. It felt good to get the upper hand. She hated being helpless. She listened with delight as his body hit the ground, then walked to where he lay slumped against the wall and delivered a kick to his stomach. The remaining Watcher took the opportunity to pull a pipe out from under the chair he’d been sitting on.
He stepped forward and swung the pipe at her back with all of his strength, but Dana spun around and caught it before impact. She yanked the pipe out of his hand and smiled.
Buffy tightened her grip on the crossbow. “No, I’m not going to kill you. I’m better than that,” she said.
The men watched as across the room behind her Faith fought her way up the stairs. They looked at each other nervously. Buffy might not be ready to kill them, but none of them believed for a second that Faith would hesitate.
Dana raised her arm. The man didn’t plead. He didn’t even wince. He just watched her stoically. Dana tightened her grip on the pipe. But she didn’t strike. She didn’t want to. There was no point in killing him. No joy in it. She lowered her arm and walked away.
Time seemed to slow down as Buffy watched the men pull the guns out from under their jackets. She shot her head around to see Faith fighting her way toward them. Buffy hesitated just a moment then raised her cross bow and fired, taking out Harold. She reloaded and fired twice more in quick succession. The remaining two watchers looked at her with shock and horror, then collapsed.
Buffy lowered her arm and looked down at the bodies. Harold’s eyes fluttered. He looked up at her and struggled to sputter, “I knew it- I knew you were a monster.”
“Fuck you,” Faith said, coming up beside Buffy.
A self-satisfied smirk spread across his face then faded away.
“I killed them,” Buffy said.
“Coulda saved one for me,” Faith replied. “Come on, I saw another group run the other way.”
Buffy and Faith ran through the corridors and had almost caught up when the Watchers darted into a room and slammed the door behind them.
Buffy and Faith yanked at the doorknobs but the doors were reinforced with steel.
“Damn it,” Faith yelled. “Those fucking cowards-” she began, but the sounds of screaming cut her off. Faith took a step back and turned to Buffy. “Dana?” she said.
Buffy shook her head. “She couldn’t have gotten around us that fast.”
Faith and Buffy renewed their assault on the door and burst into the room. They stopped short at the carnage. In the center of the room Cemtaur calmly turned to look at them. “Did you really think I’d be so easy to defeat?” he said with a gleam in his eye. “Or that I’d let myself be enslaved to such as these?” he asked, gesturing to the bodies of the Watchers strewn across the floor. “Showy, I know and inconsequential, considering. But I had to suffer the ignominy of being their servant for five hundred years. Seemed only fitting that I should do the honors.”
Faith and Buffy surged forward but Cemtaur disappeared before they were half way across the room. They found themselves standing in the middle of an expanding pool of blood. Human Blood. Faith’s stomach turned as she remembered all the times she’d seen crimson red blood flowing out of human bodies and felt nothing. “I didn’t want this,” she whispered.
Buffy nodded but before she could think of anything to say, her phone rang. She didn’t want to answer it but she was too dazed to keep her arm from automatically taking it out of her pocket and pressing it to her ear. “House of slaughter, Buffy speaking,” she said hollowly.
“Buffy? House of what? What happened?” Anya asked.
“Nothing. I mean – we’re fine,” Buffy replied as she turned away from the bodies and gently pulled Faith with her toward the door. “The watchers however-“
“You went all Dana on their asses?” Anya asked. “Figures. Everyone knew you were about to snap.”
“No, not- We don’t say, ‘went all Dana,’” Buffy said as she and Faith made their way back to the foyer.
“Fine. Look, we know who the mole is.”
Buffy stopped in her tracks and looked across the room at Dana pointing a cross bow at Kennedy’s neck.
“Kennedy,” Buffy said and hung up.
“Kennedy?” Willow said as she entered the room from the opposite door.
Kennedy smiled. “Sorry lover.”
“How could you?” she whispered.
“She’s a raving bitch?” Faith said offered.
“No, I want answers. I loved you - how could you do this to us?”
Kennedy’s bravado faltered.
Faith looked straight at Kennedy, eyes full of rage. “She wanted to be the slayer. Isn’t that right? A slayer wasn’t good enough.”
Kennedy opened her mouth to defend herself but the sound of swords clashing in the hallway cut her off.
“Come on,” Buffy said, pulling Willow toward the door. “The girls need our help.”
Doing away with the rest of the demon horde was easy enough, and within a couple hours they were back at the house, patching up wounds and discussing Kennedy’s betrayal.
“Maybe if I hadn’t broken up with her-”
“No, Will. You can’t blame yourself.”
“Sure I can. I’m really good at it. You know what else I’m good at? Pushing people away. I just cut her off. We barely spoke. As soon as Fred showed up-”
“That’s not a reason to betray your friends,” Buffy countered.
“I know. I know it’s not. I just- I loved her.”
Buffy was a bit startled at the revelation. She’d always considered Kennedy the rebound- like Parker only not as cruel. Well, in light of recent events, a hundred times as cruel- still.
“I didn’t know,” Buffy said, reaching out to grasp Willow’s hand. “I didn’t think. I mean- I knew you cared-”
“She made me feel- strong. Invincible,” Willow said quietly. “I was so wrapped up in the horror of what I’d done- she made me feel like Willow again. I just wish I’d told her that.”
Buffy didn’t know how to reply so she sat quietly, still holding Willow’s hand.
Back at the Watcher’s council, Kennedy discovered Harold lying in a pool of his and his compatriots’ blood. She sank down beside him, heedless of the blood seeping into the knees of her pants and closed his eyelids.
Buffy couldn’t sleep. Spike listened to her toss and turn for a few moments, then reached out to pull her close. “You did what you had to do,” he said. “They would’ve killed Faith.”
Buffy shook her head silently. She tried to look at him, but she couldn’t.
“Baby, come on. There’s nothing you could’ve done.”
“You know that’s not true,” she replied. “I could have wounded them. I didn’t have to aim for the heart.”
“It was instinct. You panicked.”
Buffy shook her head again. “No. I wanted to kill them. They just gave me an excuse.”