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The Warrior and the Witch
Homecoming 1
By Jeconais
It was the eyes that gave it away. It was always the eyes. They stared, into the shadows created by the setting sun. The body moved freely, expertly. The rifle was stripped, checked, cleaned and reassembled. Food was ingested. The eyes didn’t move.
Killing was easy now. It used to be hard. It started because of order, then because of want, then for revenge. Now, because he wasn’t sure what else to do. It was his job, his life.
The sun slunk lower in the sky, as if embarrassed by what it saw, the folly playing out beneath it.
A movement to the side, a countdown. One minute. Tick followed tock followed tick followed tock. Once he would have been nervous, once he would have been scared. Now he was resigned. Maybe, just maybe, a tad hopeful. That it would end, that this would be the last time. That he would get to lie down and just sleep, sleep for ever.
He was moving, as silently as the others. From tree to tree, cover to cover. The eyes changed. Now they were moving, scanning, watching. Enemies. Fighters. Guerillas. Up ahead, a POW camp, guarded. They were going to get their people out. They had to.
Gunfire. Loud, raucous, gunfire. The serenity destroyed by chaos.
See an enemy, raise the rifle, shoot, move on. Always move on. One, two, three, four, too many to count. Swing, shoot, duck, shoot, run, shoot.
The tower, a machine gun. A grenade. The tower looks like a second sun for a brief moment, but there is no time.
Through the gates, follow the briefing. Left, left, straight on. Through the door, that’s him, the man in the uniform, he’s the one.
Raise the rifle, ignore the pleas, the begging, prepare to pull the trigger.
The man knows, he can see his death coming.
It’s all in the eyes.
Xander’s entire body clenched as he sat up suddenly, drenched in sweat. He panted hard, the nightmare slowly receding.
"Shh, Honey," Dawn whispered. She put her hand on his back, stroking for a moment, before pulling him into a deep hug. "It’s ok, Xan, I’m here."
He fought for a moment, not recognizing the comfort, but then the smell kicked in. The scent of her hair, of her skin, and he remembered. Remembered who he was. He relaxed into her embrace, laying them both down.
It was the best thing about their relationship. They were strong for each other. He outweighed her by nearly seventy pounds these days. The constant fighting doing things to his physique he only dreamed of as a teenager. Now over six feet tall, he looked down on her by a good few inches. None of that mattered now. Now he was still scared, still spooked. He buried his face against her neck, curling around her, receiving the comfort he so desperately needed.
She whispered to him, telling him how much she loved him, how much he meant to her, smiling her words to him. She stroked his back, just the way he liked it, keeping it straight on the border between soft and hard. She was there for him; she would always be there for him.
Just as he was there for her, when her nightmares sent her screaming into the night. When the pain of the fire licking her feet was too much to bear. When all her hope was lost, when she realized that she wouldn’t be saved. That was when he returned the favor, when he held the smaller girl to his chest, stroked her back, and spoke eloquently of his love for her.
And that’s what they were, two people who had made a life defining choice, not for themselves, but for the good of others. A Witch and a Warrior, old beyond their years.
Saviors and Heroes.
She smiled suddenly, remembering a conversation five years ago, with her mother. 'You better believe I’ll be there for him when I can be.’ The smiled change a little, from comforting, to an expression with a hint of naughtiness.
She could feel him relax, the horror fading. It was time to replace those memories with something a little better for him. Her hands slowly curved, the palms leaving, letting the finger tips trail. He shivered lightly, not yet realizing what she was doing.
The tips moved again, leaving the nail in contact with his smooth skin. It was soft and warm, covering the rock hard muscles underneath. She dragged the tips of her nails along it, scratching.
He tensed slightly, now he understood. Now he realized exactly how she planned to take his mind of the nightmare. She could feel his smile against her skin; feel his hands start to move, to wander over her sides.
Hands that could field strip a rifle, while he was blindfolded. Hands that could throw a knife with deadly accuracy at any target. Hands that could load a rocket launcher in his sleep. Hands that were, right now, finding just the spots she never knew she wanted to be stroked, but was damn glad he was doing so.
He was stronger than she was, bigger. Yet with ease, she lifted him, rolled him onto his back, and straddled him.
He was hers, now, and for eternity.
She looked down into his eyes; the warm dark pools of expression that she knew were her property. Her own green eyes showed the trust and love she felt for him. She shook her head a little, allowing her long straight hair to fall between them, to tickle him slightly. She knew he loved her hair, loved the way it felt rubbing over his skin, the illusion it gave as she peered at him through it.
Her hips met with his, through the shorts he was wearing, and the tap pants that matched her white camisole. She rocked, gently, her hands over his heart, loving the way it made his heart beat faster.
This was about him, tonight. Normally it was about her, he loved to hear her scream, loved to taste her. She knew he had a ridiculous ratio in his mind, that she should come three times to his one, and normally she was happy with that, it made her feel loved, cherished and incredibly sexy.
Not now, not tonight. This was her turn to show that she worshipped him, that she found him as attractive, that she wanted him to have his mind turned to mush. She wanted the power, and she was going to get it.
Her hands shifted down, stroking the smooth muscles of his stomach, tracing the outline she could barely see, before sliding up her thighs, her sides, to her chest.
She cupped her breasts, smiling tenderly, feeling his reaction jump against her intimately. She leaned forwards, dragging her self along him, her hair sliding over his face as her head moved past him. She offered herself, and then gasped as he took advantage. His hot mouth played with the silky material, playing the same game she was. His tongue lightly swirled, barely touching the soft skin through the silk material.
Slowly he leant forwards, coming more into contact, nuzzling. His hands clamped firmly onto her waist, holding her in position, bent over him, as he went to work. Licking, biting, sucking, all through the material. He explored each curve, bend and peak as if it was the first time, listening to the soft panting sounds that told him louder than a scream that she was enjoying it.
She slammed her hips down, back against him, leaning up, regaining control. Her eyes smiled at him, a silent message he grinned at.
She kissed his chin, his neck, smiling as he moved his head, automatically making himself more vulnerable. She nibbled the pulse point, playfully, liking his growl. She kissed down, over his collarbone, leisurely taking her time to kiss every part that her hand had stroked earlier. Soft, feather light, dry touches that threw his mind around the bed, as she continued inexorably down.
She slid down his legs, giving herself the room she needed, as she kissed his stomach, loving the way the muscles contracted, as the pleasure she gave took control. Her hands slid up his thighs, to his shorts. A spell, simple magic, aged them in an instant, turning them to dust, freeing him, allowed her to continue without interruption.
She continued to explore his stomach, swaying a little, allowing the hard peaks of her chest to rub against him, knowing it would drive him mad, the silk and the hardness intimately pressed against him.
She moved down, again, her hair sliding after her, moving her head up so she was hovering above him. He twitched the feel of her hot breath against him an agonized torture.
She met his eyes, smiling as they told her she didn’t have to do this, that it wasn’t necessary. It was totally necessary; she needed the power over him, needed to hear him scream that he was hers, needed to taste him, to consume him, to own him. His eyes widened as he saw, and then understood. He was hers; he had been for five years, no one else. There had never been anyone else. There would never be anyone else.
She pulled her hair back, out of the way, not wanting anything between them as she maintained eye contact. Her mouth opened slowly, a dainty tongue lightly licked the sensitive peak, tasting it.
His groan was uncontrollable, and gave her the confidence she needed to continue, to know that he was enjoying so much.
His thoughts left him completely, as a soft hand cupped him, raised him, and the beautiful lips that he loved kissing so much, enveloped him completely.
The sounds continued for hours, before they both fell asleep again, no nightmares this time, just the exhausted sleep of two lovers.
This was the time of day that Dawn enjoyed the most. She sipped her coffee slowly, enjoying the feel as the hot decaffeinated beverage warmed her body. Xander was in front of her, cooking them some breakfast. She loved to watch him, the way his smooth muscles would tense and relax as he moved around the small kitchen area of the condo they were staying in.
She sat at the breakfast bar, dressed in the same camisole set she had been wearing the night before, that she had stripped off when things started getting really interesting. He was wearing a new pair of boxers.
The scene of domesticity had been repeated hundreds of times already. He would always cook her breakfast, even though she was a better cook than he was, it was one of his little ways of showing just how much she meant to him. She loved it, as she loved him.
They never talked in the morning, there was no need, they knew what each other was thinking. Their ability to read each other had increased over the years, but they had worked on showing some emotions, not so much for themselves, but so they could integrate more appropriately with society.
It had been very hard for Dawn to go to school, and Xander to start working, when neither of them felt like saying anything above a whisper, and even then to keep it as short as possible. They had both learnt, the hard way, that talking could cause problems.
Dawn’s execution had been arranged when someone had overheard her talking about witchcraft. Xander had been shot in the back for refusing to follow an insane colonel’s orders.
Xander placed a plate in front of her, and leant against the counter, smiling gently. "Are you ready to see your sister again?" It was the first words they had spoken out of the bedroom for over a week.
A hint of a smile flashed through her eyes. "Yes, I can’t wait to see Faith again." Her voice had matured, so that it was now smooth as honey, and had a tendency to wander up and down Xander’s spine, pressing all of his buttons.
Xander laughed softly, reached over and pinched a slice of bacon from her plate. "I meant Buffy."
Dawn batted his hand away playfully. "You said sister," she pouted at him.
"Real, not adopted," Xander clarified. Their expressions were not needed, but like their voices, carefully cultivated.
"Not really. She’ll freak, try and hit either me or you, you’ll get out of the way or I’ll zap her. She’ll shout, scream, stamp her foot, and then run to the nearest vampire for sex."
Xander grinned at her. "You forgot the jumping to conclusions," he advised her dryly. "I’m obviously a demon, you’re possessed, still."
"Ahh yes," Dawn grinned. "The working of my sister’s mind has yet to be upgraded from an infectious disease."
Xander blinked for a second, the applauded. "Men in Black?"
"Yep." She drank the last of her coffee, and placed her chin on her hands and looked at him.
"Do you ever regret leaving?"
Dawn shook her head instantly. "You have no idea how close I came to turning Buffy and Willow into rats. Every time they started that same conversation, I just wanted to scream, hex them, run out, find you, and kiss you senseless and hope that nature would overcome your self control."
He laughed, "You hardly helped out with my control. Some of those tops you wore were so loose you had to hold them to your shoulders."
"I know," Dawn admitted calmly. "You were the one who wanted to follow the rules; I was horny as hell, so I figured that if I had to suffer, you would as well."
"I’m not sorry I waited," Xander said softly, suddenly losing his joking smile. "It means I can look in the mirror in the morning, and no be disgusted with the person I see. I know you are older than you look, that you’re 17, going on 22, going on 47, but you were still in a body that was five years younger than me and was still going through the beginnings of puberty."
Dawn reached out and took his hand, stroking it gently. "I know, Xan. I did appreciate it, honestly. I did have some fun with you, but only because I knew how safe it was. Whenever I was scared, or alone, you were always there to make me feel warm and protected."
They looked at each other, their silent communication so much faster than words. "Think we’ve practiced enough?" Xander asked with a grin.
"Hopefully," Dawn replied. "Let’s get dressed and get this over with."
Xander’s clothes had changed dramatically since his teenage days. The bright Hawaiian shirts had vanished, as had the various clown pants. He now wore specially tailored khaki combat pants, a dark blue button up shirt and brown boots. An aviator style jacket finished off his look.
Dawn smiled, looking at him. She had chosen the outfit for him, in fact, every outfit for him since she reached fourteen. He had the worst taste in clothing she had ever seen, and had been grateful for someone to tell him what looked good and what he should wear. In her opinion, which was backed up by the looks he got, he was hot.
Of course, she had more trouble getting ready herself. As she had said, she was really looking forward to meeting Faith again. They hadn’t seen her for a year, and the odd telephone call from wherever in America they had been was never enough, especially not for two people who relied so much on reading expressions.
She was not looking forward to seeing her genetic sister, and said sister’s best friend. They had spent several years trying to talk her out of being in love with Xander, and refused to listen when she had explained, time and time, again that she was his, as he was hers. They hadn’t listened, and had tried everything possible to break them up.
The one time they had insulted Xander, she had lost her temper and frozen them both in place for several hours, while she went over to his parents, and spent some time just cuddling with him. After that, they had stopped talking about him, and talked about how it wasn’t good for her, that she should live her life like a child. Their errant hypocrisy and self interest would not have been obvious to a thirteen year old, but it stunk to heaven with the experience of a 42 year old witch looking at it.
She had no idea what they had done to Xander, what they had used to attack him, but knew it had been hard. She would sometimes find him sitting in a chair, rigid with tension, looking into the distance. It was in his eyes. Every time, she had climbed into his lap and looked at him, openly, lightly, stroking his face. He would slowly relax, slowly offer her the hint of a smile she was looking for, and slowly remember how much she loved him.
She pulled on a pair of Capri pants, matching top, and a brown leather jacket. Walking normally had been another skill she had been forced to relearn. She had worn long skirts for several years, simply to hide the fact she didn’t need to move her legs. Like Xander, she pulled on a pair of brown hiking boots, finishing her outfit.
She walked into the kitchen, and smiled as he stood, his eyes telling her exactly how attractive he found her. She found herself regretting that they had to go now, when the bed was still within reach.
They walked out of the condo, down the elevator and into their car. It was one of the few things Xander had insisted on, and after sitting in it, she had agreed instantly. The BMW M5 was a luxury sedan that she had never thought she would sit in. Exactly where Xander got the money was something she had agreed she didn’t need to know. She simply presumed that it was a job he had done when he had been away for several nights. Since that time, he had never worked, and they had dedicated all of their time to fighting things that went bump in the night.
Xander let her drive, since she had learnt in the car, and was totally at home in it.
"I need a drink," Faith muttered to herself. "Why the hell am I babysitting a bunch of whiny, wannabe Slayers, while B is out socializing with her latest vampire fuck-buddy."
"Vi," she yelled. "You’re dropping your shoulder. Try it again."
The Slayer in Training groaned, pulled back, then started the movement again. She was grateful, though, that Faith was actually bothering to give them some serious training. Buffy had always been too busy running around like a headless chicken, to bother with anything as boring as actually making sure her troops were ok. Giles did his best, but he was no more than an average fighter at best. He knew how to train them; he followed his text books to the letter. He just had never had the experience to show where the text books might be wrong.
Faith, however, was different. The dark haired Slayer had lived and breathed fighting for the past few years, and was a tornado when she attacked. As far as she was concerned, the text books missed a lot of moves that might not have been fair play, but which were often the difference between victory and bleeding to death. She had taken it on herself to try and train the girls, after they had lost one the first night she was here.
All that time spent with Angel and Xander was paying off, as she helped the girls use what they had to survive first and foremost, and to win, second.
To the girls, Faith was what they wanted to be. She was cool, hot, incredibly sexy, and had a wicked sense of humor that could have the most innocent man stuttering like a teenager in seconds. The fact that she could also majorly kick ass was a bonus.
None of the trainees understood exactly why Buffy and Caleb were dating; they weren’t even sure if he had a soul.
Vi looked up, as a silver BMW pulled to a stop outside the house on Revello Drive. Kennedy, her current fighting partner, turned as well, and admired the car. Her father had looked at getting one once, before deciding on a Mercedes.
Their admiration continued as a tall brunet stepped out of the car and surveyed the surrounding area casually.
A slim girl stepped out of the driver’s door; she walked around the car slowly, joining the man as they started to walk towards the house.
Behind the girls, Faith looked around to see what was causing the distraction, and blinked. A huge smile lit up her face, a genuine smile, as opposed to her normal smirk.
Faith squealed with pleasure, and started to run. Her Slayer powers allowed her to vault the fence with ease, and a second later, she thumped in to Xander’s body, hugging him tightly.
He slid his arms around her, pulling her close, and stroked her back gently. "It’s good to see you, Faith."
Faith released the boy, and grabbed the younger girl, hugging her tightly as well. "I missed you, Faith," Dawn whispered into her ear.
The dark Slayer stepped back reluctantly, almost afraid they would vanish if she let go.
Dawn reached out slowly, and ran her fingers down the girl’s cheek. Slowly, she smiled at the older girl. The finger contact allowed Faith to read what she was thinking, what she was feeling, how Dawn felt about her. It gave the Slayer the same ability Xander had all the time.
The Slayer beamed at Dawn. It was impossible for her to control her emotions when this happened, it always made her feel so incredibly special that Dawn trusted her so much, that she gave her this gift freely.
Dawn dropped her hand slowly, allowing Xander to take her place. He too, reached up, with the back of his hand, and brushed his fingers against her cheek.
Dawn reached out and lightly touched both of their hands, facilitating the contact Xander was offering.
Once more, Faith was almost overwhelmed with a feeling of complete love and acceptance from her only true family. Angel and the Fang Gang might be close friends, but Dawn and Xander were her personal saviors, the people who had decided that the angry, scared runaway was worthy enough to join them.
Both of them gave Faith a slow smile, not much as compared to most people, but on their normally expressionless faces it meant so much.
She hugged them both again, not saying a word, knowing it wasn’t necessary. She pulled them into the house to catch up and tell them what had happened.
"What the hell was that?" Kennedy asked, shocked.
"Don’t you mean, who the hell was that?" Molly asked.
"Whatever," Kennedy said dismissively. With Faith out of sight, they all quickly decided to have a rest and enjoy the remainder of the late autumn sun.
"What happened here?" Xander asked, looking around at the trashed room. All of Joyce’s nice furniture had been replaced with cheap pieces of crap. One of the windows was boarded up, and there were several holes in the wall.
"They can’t afford a handyman to fix all the damage," Faith explained quietly. "I paid for a plumber to come in to fix the shower, but I’ll be damned if I pay for anything else."
They both smiled at her, guessing that Buffy hadn’t exactly been grateful.
"You don’t have to stay here," Dawn offered. "We have a spare room."
Faith smiled again, "Thanks, guys. You have no idea what it is like living with so many teenage girls, and not being allowed to beat the shit out of them."
"Why didn’t you get your own place?" Xander asked, remembering at the last minute to frown as well.
"I’m not exactly made of money," Faith replied sheepishly.
"What happened to that account I set up for you?"
"Oh, that’s for emergencies only. I wasn’t going to use that for something as frivolous as hotel accommodation when there is a couch I can use here, free of charge."
Xander looked annoyed, an expression that Faith had never seen on his face before, and she took a slight step back.
"You are my sister," he said firmly, looking the dark Slayer in the eyes. "That money is replaceable, you are not. I don’t want to hear about you getting hurt because you had a bad night’s sleep, got me?"
She nodded reluctantly.
"Money is not an issue, Faith. You risk your life day in and day out to save this planet; you deserve the good things in life."
Again, she nodded, looking down a little.
Xander reached out and pulled her into a hug again. "I meant it," he whispered. "You are the most important person in the world to Dawn and me. We don’t want you dead for any reason."
Hearing those words, it took all of Faith’s self control not to break down in tears.
"What the hell are they doing?" Buffy asked Willow as they walked up the street towards the Summers residence, scowling at the SIT’s who were lying around, relaxing.
"Err, sunbathing?" Willow asked.
"Why aren’t they training, or something? Faith run out on them already?"
"Are you expecting visitors?" Willow changed the subject, Faith’s help still being a sore spot between them, as she spotted the expensive car parked outside their house.
"Nope," Buffy frowned. "I thought I had all that bank stuff sorted out, I’m not on final notice on any of my bills either." Looking worried, the Slayer and the Witch picked up the pace a little.
"I’ve suddenly got a feeling bad things are going to happen," Molly announced, watching the two girls head into the house. She jumped up with a grin, "And I don’t want to miss it."
The other trainees grinned, and joined her. They sneaked towards the house, sitting under the open window so they could hear perfectly.
Inside the living room, Dawn tensed. "Xander, they are here."
Xander nodded slowly, and looked Dawn in the eyes.
Faith watched quietly, she could almost see the small signs of life drain from the two of them. The little inflections that told her so much vanished, as they regained complete control over their actions. She knew that it was a self defense mechanism, and that it was likely that the upcoming confrontation would be unpleasant.
Despite being offered a place to stay, and being here at their personal request, Faith was totally on Dawn and Xander’s side. She had been shocked that they had waited so long to consummate their relationship; she would have been jumping Xander from about five minutes after puberty had made the relevant biological changes necessary to facilitate such an action.
As she always did, the small blonde Slayer entered the house first, closely followed by her red-headed companion.
"Faith, what’s the problem?" she demanded, shifting immediately into aggressive mode, ignoring the dark couple dressed in similar clothes.
Faith smirked, the bright smile gone as her own defenses came in play. "No problem, B. Good news in fact, I asked for some backup, they were willing to provide it."
"What?" Buffy demanded, incensed. "You had no right to do that! I’m the Slayer! I run this thing, not you."
"And doing such a good job at it," Faith retorted. "We lost one potential the first night I was here, and she wasn’t the first."
"They died because they were stupid," Buffy announced dismissively.
Outside, the potential Slayers looked at each other, shocked.
For the first time, Buffy and Willow looked at the two sat comfortably on the couch. They looked vaguely familiar. "I’m sorry," Buffy said, quite obviously not sorry in the slightest. "But you’ve wasted your time. Your help, what ever that may be, is not required."
"It doesn’t have anything to do with you, Buffy," Xander said quietly. "Faith asked for our help, and that is what she is going to get."
Buffy paused, as the level voice brought back memories she had hoped to never bring up again. She looked at the girl next to him, the bright green eyes and long hair, set in a face that had matured into a sophisticated beauty, was that of her sister, albeit a few years older.
Beside them, Willow had gone white upon recognizing the two.
"We don’t need you," Buffy spat. "My boyfriend’s a better fighter than you’ll ever be, and Willow’s a more powerful witch."
For a brief second, Faith thought she saw a glimmer of amusement flash in Dawn’s eyes, but it was gone before she could be sure.
"Then why haven’t you defeated this bad guy yet, and why are you losing your troops?" Xander inquired softly, neither his face nor his tone gave any inkling to what he was thinking.
Buffy took the question as if he had shouted it in her face. As if she was talking to a five year old, she mocked, "Because it is a non-corp-eral…non corp..it’s a ghost. And the people died because they were stupid."
Xander looked at her, neither his face nor his eyes told her anything, yet she got the feeling that he was rolling his eyes at her. "Do you have any idea how to lead troops? How to make sure they fight their best?"
"Of course," Buffy replied. "I’m the Slayer."
There was a brief silence that could have been interpreted a number of ways. Faith chose to interpret it as a stunned silence.
"What training have you introduced?"
"Look," Buffy was rapidly losing her temper. "I don’t have to answer your questions. I’m the Slayer, I think it’s time you left."
Next to her, Willow was staring at Dawn, "After you left, I found that you had been holding me back. I could have handled a lot more spells than you would let me. Why?"
"You did not have the experience to properly handle those spells," Dawn replied serenely.
"Yes I did," Willow snapped. "You were just jealous and holding me back so I wouldn’t be better than you."
The red-headed witch felt both pairs of inscrutable eyes on her. They seemed to burrow deep into her soul, examining, then deciding what they found was unworthy.
Simultaneously, Xander and Dawn stood, and walked to the door. "Coming?" Xander asked Faith.
"Where the hell are you going?" Buffy screamed at them.
They ignored her, and walked out, joined a few seconds later by Faith, who was holding a single bag with some clothes in it.
"That’s it?" Xander asked his total control still in place.
Faith nodded, slightly embarrassed, sensing Xander’s disapproval more than anything else.
"Faith," Vi, called after them, running over to them.
Faith paused and turned to face the girl.
"What about our training?"
Faith looked at Xander for a second, and after he nodded, she grinned. "We’ll turn it up tomorrow."
"Meet us at Giles’ tomorrow morning at ten," Xander told the girl, interrupting smoothly.
Vi nodded, wide eyed as she got a much closer look at the one they had heard Buffy get very upset about.
Her eyes stayed on his face, as he turned and climbed into the car, Dawn and Faith following him.
As the car drove off, Vi walked back over to the other potentials.
"Well, what did he say?" Molly asked.
"We’ll meet them at Watcher’s place, tomorrow at Ten."
"You will do no such thing," Buffy spat, having walked around the corner. "You will do as I tell you and nothing else. They are not wanted or needed."
"But," Vi tried to argue.
"I’m the Slayer! You will do as you are told." With that, the blonde turned and walked back into the house.
"Are you going to go?" Molly whispered.
Vi shot a look at Kennedy, then said, "No. Not at all."
Molly nodded in understanding, and let the subject drop.
"Do you know what has happened to her?" Dawn asked Faith quietly. One of the reasons for the luxury car was the excellent noise suppression.
Faith shook her head, "No. Basically, Willow turned up in L.A. last week, asking for some help. I wasn’t doing anything important, so I volunteered to come. I was hoping I could try and make friends with B. After all, we are the only two Slayers around.
"When I got here, I found that Buffy didn’t know I was coming, and she was really pissed about Willow asking me to help out. It was only when Willow argued with her, and got her to talk to Caleb about the situation that she reluctantly let me stay.
"She’s a disaster, Xan. You have no idea how bad it is. She orders everyone around, leads us into situations that even I can see is a trap, and then blames everyone else when things go wrong.
"Caleb patrols with us occasionally, and is a pretty good fighter, but he seems to spend all his time encouraging Buffy in her so-called 'plans’.
"The potentials are pretty good really, and they could be turned in to a great team. They’ve got heart. Well, most of them, anyway. Kennedy, one of those girls, is currently dating Willow, and has her nose so far up Red’s ass that you have to look down Willow’s throat to see her eyes."
Xander turned and flashed her a grin. It wasn’t quite a pre-Halloween grin, but for Faith, having never seen that, it was very effective.
"Does Giles know what is going on?"
Faith shrugged lightly. "I’ve only seen him once, and he looked a little strange."
Xander nodded thoughtfully.
It was with a degree of surprise, that Faith realized that they had pulled up outside of Giles’ apartment block.
Silently, the two partners climbed out of the car, leaving Faith to shrug and join them.
Giles looked up from the thick tome he was reading and sighed a little. A small glass of whiskey rested on the arm of his chair, and he was dressed in a comfortable pair of jeans and a t-shirt.
He stood, reluctantly, as someone knocked on the door, and walked over, opening it without bothering to check who it was.
"Xander? Dawn?" he asked, these two people, with Faith hovering behind them, were probably the last two guests he expected to have to entertain.
"Please, come in."
The three young adults followed the older man into his apartment. Xander’s hand was on Dawn’s elbow, ostensibly guiding her, but in fact using the contact to allow them to talk to each other silently. There was something wrong with the Watcher; not his clothes, although the lack of tweed was shocking enough, but something in his eyes. A light that used to shine so brightly had almost been extinguished. He looked like a man adrift from everything he held dear.
Xander sat Dawn down on a chair, shot a quick look at Faith and Giles, and walked into the kitchen.
"So," Faith started, finding the silence a little intimidating. "How’re things, Jeeves?"
Giles smiled faintly, not having heard that nickname in a long time. "Fine, fine. How are you?"
"Just peachy," Faith replied dryly.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, Faith and Giles wishing that Xander was back. Dawn, who had asked Xander to leave them, spent the time examining the British Watcher closely.
Xander returned, and handed Dawn one of the two mugs he was holding. He passed the other one to Giles, moving his alcohol well out of the way.
With a very surprised look, Giles sipped the tea. "My heavens," he whispered, "when did you learn to make proper tea?"
Xander smiled faintly. "Dawn likes it."
Giles nodded and sat forwards. He took a deep breath, holding the mug of tea in front of him as a bit of a shield. He ignored Faith for now, remembering how close the three of them were, and so did not have a problem saying this in front of the dark Slayer. He wanted to say this first, before he lost this chance.
"I believe that I owe the both of you an apology. I’ve recently had a great deal of time in which to think thrust upon me, and with hindsight, my behavior to you both was below what I would expect of myself as your friend, and as a human being.
Once he started talking, Giles found that he couldn’t stop. "When I arrived in this town, I was so pleased to have a Slayer, so pleased that I was actually an active Watcher. Buffy wasn’t quite what I expected, but I found myself liking being her Watcher even more than I had thought I would. She was remarkably human. I did find it very difficult to deal with both you and Willow, and your insistence with joining along in her Slaying efforts. That said, it was with a sense of pride that I watched all three of you deal with the vampires and demons that infest this little town.
"But, Buffy was my Slayer. I don’t think I can explain properly what that means; it’s like a Father-Daughter relationship, but so much more than that. She was everything to me, so, against my better judgment, I found myself siding with her again and again. So much so that it became a habit. When it came to prophecies and the like, I was in charge; I used my intellect to its fullest. I am ashamed to admit that when it came to personal interactions in your group, I didn’t apply the same full concentration.
"With Buffy so against your relationship, and doing everything in her power to destroy it, I’m afraid that I let her emotions color my own conclusions. What I failed to do is research your case, to find out exactly what had happened, and make my own decisions based on that.
"Things have now changed, and I have been forced to realize that Buffy believes that, as the Slayer, she no longer needs me and that she can take control over everything. Ironically, I find myself in a very similar situation to the one you both experienced. Knowing that you can help, yet your pleas to do so being ignored.
"It is this exclusion that has forced me through this introspection, and all I can say is that I apologize profusely for my behavior."
Faith watched silently as Xander and Dawn looked at each other for a second. Without a single sign, they both moved out at once, and lightly held Giles’ hand.
Rupert Giles had been involved with magic from a young age; his reputation as a teenage tearaway still existed as cautionary legend in parts of London. He had completed spells during which he had been possessed by a God, and had read extensively on subjects in many different languages and arts.
He had never felt or read about anything that came close to this.
The Watcher was hit with a barrage of emotions. He felt the understanding, the forgiveness and the affection the two expatriate Scoobies held for him.
Everything went through him with crystal clear clarity. It resonated deep inside his soul, and he knew without any doubt that everything he felt was real, everything was true. He was truly forgiven for his actions.
"Oh my," he whispered, as they released him, sitting back. A thought struck him, and the expression on his face turned horrified. "Is this how you talk to each other?"
"More so," Dawn replied softly.
"And we tried to take that away from you?" The expression of self loathing on Giles’ face was almost heart rendering.
"You’re forgiven," Xander reminded him gently. "For everything."
The British Watcher grasped his cup of tea, and drank deeply. "Thank you," he whispered finally. He found it hard to admit, but he wanted the feeling from them again. The wonderful feeling of someone touching your very soul and passing you a message of understanding and forgiveness.
"Now," Xander smiled at him, an expression that Giles remembered with more fondness than he had judged at the time. "What’s happened to Buffy and Willow?"
Giles took another sip of his tea, placed the mug down, and slowly polished his glasses.
Both Dawn and Faith could sense Xander’s amusement, and as he looked up at the boy, Giles, for the very first time, could as well.
"Yes," he said dryly. "I am going into lecture mode."
The self-depreciating joke actually caused Xander to half smile, half smirk at the older man.
"I guess it started shortly after you left. Buffy was out on patrol one night, alone, and ran into a Vampire. This Vampire then proceeded to beat Buffy in their fight with remarkable ease. Instead of killing her, however, he told her he’d let her live if she agreed to go on a date with him.
"Buffy agreed, and they agreed to meet the next day. As she normally did Buffy told me all about this the next morning, and I advised her against meeting the Vampire.
"Sadly, but predictably, Buffy failed to take my advice. By all accounts, the date went extremely well. They had a good time, and dated again. A few weeks later, Buffy arrived at my apartment with an almost visible glow. It seems that this Caleb, as I later found his name to be, did not suffer any adverse reactions to intimacy."
Dawn and Xander looked at each other for a second. Again, Giles realized that they were rolling their eyes at each other, in a disgusted manner. It was remarkable to him just how expressive they could be, with the tiniest of movements. He found himself envying the two of them, envying the deep relationship they both so obviously enjoyed.
"It was about four months ago when events first began to deteriorate. We all started to receive nightmares, as something played on our innermost fears. A few weeks later, the Watchers Council sent some of its potential Slayers to stay with us. Shortly afterwards, a bomb ripped through the headquarters of the society, crippling us.
"It was shortly after those events, when Buffy started to take more and more command, and when I queried her ideas, she accused me of working against her, of standing in her way, and told me to get out. I tried to argue with her, but she was most stubborn. The only contact I had was with the Potentials, but in the end, she stopped me even doing that, accusing me of putting ideas in to their heads.
"I left town, which I admit was the wrong thing to do, but my emotions were in turmoil, and went back to England. I worked with a few of the remaining members of the council, to start the rebuilding, and returned to Sunnydale, reinvigorated and eager to help with the battle. Unfortunately, I arrived the day after Faith, and when I walked in, Buffy accused me of abandoning her, and stated that I was the cause of her losing a potential Slayer the night before."
Giles watched as Xander and Dawn looked at each other. He could almost see them speak now. After they had let him in, he found that what he had initially perceived as a lack of expression was in fact a highly sophisticated form of telepathy.
"What about Willow?"
Giles sighed once more, "Another of my failures, I am afraid. With your departure, Willow turned to me for magic lessons. I tried to continue along the same path that you had, Dawn, but was distracted by my duties as a Watcher. I tried very hard to keep going in the correct direction, but she moved away from me as fast as she could. Her intellect allowed her to pick up magic relatively easily, and she believed that she was superior to me. That she could understand things faster. Eventually, she accused me of holding her back, and taught herself. She has become extremely powerful."
Dawn nodded calmly. "She has more power than she should have. How did she acquire it?"
Giles frowned. "I don’t know. It just seemed to appear whenever we need it. She said that she was channeling the earth itself, as a Wiccan."
"Willow is not a Wicca," Dawn stated emotionlessly. "She has too much turmoil in her heart and mind. Wicca is a very peaceful, harmonious and balanced way of thinking and life, which promotes oneness with the divine and all which exists." Her voice had changed slightly, giving it a very slight teacher-like feel. "To be a Wicca is to be a healer, a teacher, a seeker, a giver, and a protector of all things. You walk this path with honor, light and integrity."
Giles absently polished his glasses again, returning them slowly to his nose. The distraction gave him a few seconds to collect his thoughts. "I believe you may be right," he said cautiously. "Willow and Tara separated after Willow used a spell to remove a memory from her mind."
Faith silently pulled her legs up, settling in a little more comfortably. Normally, she had very little patience for deep discussions, but she was finding this history lesson fascinating.
"Does Willow not believe in the law of threefold?"
"No," Giles said, a look of surprise on his face as he realized he had never considered the questions.
"What’s the law of threefold?" Faith interjected, her voice carefully modulated to avoid breaking the mood that had been fostered.
"The Wicca religion is based on two cardinal rules, and one advisory belief," Dawn explained with a look that Faith knew was a smile. "’An it harm none do, what you will,’ is the first. It basically means that you can do what you like with magic, as long as it doesn’t hurt any living thing. Second, is 'The law of three fold return,’ which means that anything you do for good or ill is ultimately returned to with three times the power. Finally, the advisory belief is that if a spell fails to reach its target, it rebounds on to the caster. This would not be a problem if the spell was designed for good, but if it was evil, it could easily backfire."
Faith nodded, as did Giles, who had never actually heard the basic tenents of the witchcraft explained so clearly and concisely.
"Are you a Wicca?" Faith asked the long haired girl.
Dawn thought for a second, trying to find the best way to phrase her reply. "In a way, yes. I believe fully in the laws of the religion, I have seen too much happen not to believe. But I am not a pure Wicca. I chose to fight for what I believe in, and as such, walk a very thin path. I believe that self defense, and the defense of my fellow man, is more important than absolute adherence to the rules, and that these rules are mainly guidelines. I will kill demons, vampires, even evil humans, yet I would not cast a spell for my own gain."
For a second, both people watching her saw a hint of the young girl Dawn had been before, as she whispered, "Besides, I can not jeopardize my soul, it already belongs to Xander."
The only movement he made was to lightly touch her hand, but it was enough. Dawn broadcast to Faith and Giles a little of what she was receiving from him, the absolute love and devotion, and again it humbled the Watcher, while it warmed the Slayer.
"What is Willow, then?" Faith asked, as she saw Xander lightly remove his hand.
"I’m not sure," Dawn admitted. "She has much more power than I do."
"And you’re not worried by this?" Faith asked, showing that she was herself worried.
"Are you worried when you fight a Kungai Demon?" Dawn asked back.
"A little," Faith admitted, to Giles’ surprise. He couldn’t remember the brash woman ever openly admitting a weakness when she had first been here. "But I’m pretty confident I can beat it. It might be a lot stronger, but I have the skill to take it down."
Dawn just offered her a very faint smile. It took Faith a few seconds to realize what the smile meant, before she relaxed and laughed softly.
"Back to Willow, then," Xander intervened smoothly. "What happened to Tara?"
"Well," Giles continued from earlier. "Willow begged Tara’s forgiveness for the spell, and they tried to work past it. I believe that, from your description, Dawn, that Tara was a true Wicca, and that she worked very hard to keep Willow on the right path. Unfortunately, however, she died, during an altercation with a group of demon raisers called the Trio. Willow took her death hard, and skinned the person who shot her alive."
If Giles expected Xander and Dawn to be shocked by this revelation, he would have been severely disappointed. Revenge was an emotion they both understood extremely well.
"What exactly are we facing here?" Xander asked, moving the conversation back to the enemy they were facing.
"Do you remember when Angel almost killed Buffy? Just before it snowed for the first time?"
Dawn and Xander looked each other in the eyes. They both shared the memory of the two of them playing in the snow, and their first, very chaste, kiss.
"A little," Xander said. "First Evil, or something?"
"Exactly," Giles replied. "It seems that it is back, along with the group of priests, called Bringers, or Harbingers, who worship it. It seems bent on staying in this realm this time, and we are left with the question of how to kill something which is non-corporeal." Giles would wonder for sometime why his usage of 'non-corporeal’ would make Xander and Dawn give a hint of a smile, and Faith laugh.
Xander looked at his watch, a little surprised to see how much time had passed. "Giles, we are meeting some of the Potentials here tomorrow at ten am. I want you to have some advice ready on dealing with both the Harbingers and the First. Contact anyone you can think of who might have experience or ideas. I’d also like to see anything and everything you can dig up on its methodologies, behaviors and motivations."
It was the first time that Giles was able to see what Xander had become, what he had done with the experience and training bestowed on him by the warrior spirit. "Yes, Xander," he agreed.
The three said their goodbyes and left, all noticing that Giles had changed. His eyes were alive with purpose and dedication. He was needed again, and was obviously much better off for it.