CoF - Laure Alexander - TEAOW&S - Trials: Interludes & Preludes

AUTHOR: Laure Alexander
EMAIL: lara@sunflower.com
RATING: PG-14
PAIRINGS: Faith/Angelus
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or any of the characters on the show. Joss Whedon and the WB Network own them (for now). No copyright infringement intended, so please don't sue.
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"Catch," Buffy shouted as she tossed her spare stake to Faith, who caught it deftly and just in time to shove it through the heart of the charging linebacker cum vampire.

"Thanks, girlfriend." Seeing that Buffy had a female vampire well in hand, Faith took off after the final male.

They had been patrolling for nearly an hour, their Watchers accompanying them and severely crimping their girl talk. Faith had hoped to get Buffy to admit the truth about her boyfriend, but she couldn't do it in front of the old guys.

Instead, they'd stumbled upon a motley crew of vampires waiting for a fledgling to arise. While the Watchers had done their job, the two Slayers had made short work of the half dozen vampires. Giles had stood by with crossbow loaded, while Wesley had ducked behind a large tombstone and scribbled notes.

As Faith staked the last surviving vampire, Buffy rose from the disturbed ground of the grave, dusting off her hands.

"Huh, maybe they were all hung over from New Years until tonight." Privately Buffy had a feelign that Angel had sent these vampires to their deaths. The night before, in between bouts of lovemaking, she'd mentioned that Faith was getting antsy with nothing to fight.

A big smile on her face, Faith strolled back to the group. "Now, that's more like it."

"That's more typical than recent nights," Giles replied, putting the safety on the crossbow.

Closing his notebook, Wesley straightened his spine and stepped from behind the tombstone. "Yes, very good, though, Faith, you should always carry a spare stake."

"Yes, Wesley." Faith turned her back to him and stuck her finger into her mouth, making gagging motions and causing Buffy to swallow a laugh.

"Shall we move along to Restfield Cemetery?" Giles asked, hiding his smile as he shouldered his bag.

Buffy stuck her stake back up her sleeve and glanced at her watch. "I have to be home in forty-five minutes. Mom's home."

In Restfield, they discovered a small contingent of sword bearing vampires, which sent the Watchers back to the Library to research what would become the attempted return to power of a minor demon named Balthazar.

Two weeks passed. Buffy and Faith worked out togehter after school, patrolled in the evenings, and hit the Bronze most nights. They defeated Balthazar, stopped the Sisters of Ghe from opening the Hellmouth, and slew dozens of ordinary vampires.

Giles learned to appreciate Wesley's research skills--although the man was a pathetic fighter and a rather sad coward. He was young, though, and Giles began to hope that he would turn into something much more than he was.

Nevertheless, the older Watcher kept his guard up, remaining vigilent. He knew that Wesley was reporting everything he and Buffy did and more importantly, what they didn't do. Wesley continued to remain unhappy that Buffy had a life and friends and family outside of slaying.

Although Willow helped out on research when the big crises were at hand, none of the Slayerettes patrolled. Even though Wesley knew that they had done so in the past, Giles saw no reason to remind him of that fact. With two Slayers, there was no need for any of the normal humans to go on routine patrol.

And, both Angel and Spike had kept their distance. Giles was aware that they sometimes met the girls at the Bronze, but so far Faith had not developed the senses to detect vampires, and Wesley--who might have physical descriptions of the master of Sunnydale and his second--had yet to see them.

Sitting at her desk, Willow jotted down key points from her poli sci book, all the while attempting to ignore the vampire pacing around behind her. Occasionally he interjected something into the silence.

"It's not totally quite," Willow argued. "Buffy's been slaying vampires nightly."

"You're going to wear a hole in my carpet. I don't think my parents will understand my vampire boyfriend doing that."

"Everyone's relaxing too much around the new Watcher and Slayer. Becoming buddies," Spike sneered.

"Making friends is a good thing, Spike. People are less likely to kill friends."

Willow rolled her eyes and set down her pen, turning to face her lover. "We're still on our toes."

"Sinking fast" Spike flopped on his back on the bed, arms spread wide. "We should have just killed them."

"And the Council would have sent new ones. Maybe even punished Buffy and Giles. And I kind of like Faith."

"Both probably." Sighing, Spike sat up enough to reach out and snag Willow's hand, tugging her down beside him. "He's a sick bastard."

From her position on top of a headstone, Buffy looked over at Faith who was leaning against a crypt. "Yep. Get to vote. Like I care between one idiot and another."

The smile slid from Buffy's face and she shook her head. "I don't do well with birthdays. My sweet sixteenth was in the middle of my parents' divorce, and last year..."

"Oh...yeah. I read the report, what little there was. Giles was way short and to the point."

Buffy sighed heavily and began to play with her favorite stake. "It's certainly not a big secret. Angel and I had sex, his soul went away, and..."

"Nah. Love 'em, or rather, fuck 'em and leave 'em with fond memories, that's more my style."

Buffy glanced at her watch. "Sadly, I have a crystal gazing at appointment with Wesley."

Shrugging, Buffy hopped off the headstone. "I guess Wesley wants to observe me himself or something. It's fine by me, anything to show that there's no problem here."

"Well, you can tell him I'm still patrolling. Think I'll swing by the Bronze, patrol there a while."

"Your objections have been noted, Mr. Giles. There's no need to reiterate them each night."

"I'll reiterate them till the bloody cows come home. This is a barbaric custom that serves..."

Wesley interrupted Giles loudly spoken argument. "All we have is custom and tradition, Mr. Giles. They have worked perfectly well for nigh on two millennia."

"This particular one has seen the deaths of dozens, probably hundreds of Slayers."

Pursing his lips, Wesley watched his companion turning an angry shade of red, and shook his head slightly. "Remember your temper, Mr. Giles. The procedure has already been set in motion. Mr. Travers will be here tonight with the merchandise..."

A harsh bark of laughter erupted from Giles. "Merchandise. That's priceless. Buffy has proven herself over and over again..."

"Not to the Council's satisfaction." A coldness crept into Wesley's voice that made Giles narrow his eyes and tighten his hands into fists. "This will all be over in a few days. If Miss Summers is as good as you say she is, she will be fine."

The confidence disappeared from Wesley's face and he took several steps backwards. "Control yourself, Mr. Giles, please."

"Go to Hell, Wyndam-Price." Grabbing his jacket, Giles stormed out of the Library, brushing past Buffy without a word.

"Hi to you too, Giles," she called after him, frowning at the anger that radiated from him. Glancing into the room, she saw Wesley mopping his forehead, and shrugged, figuring that the younger Watcher had simply done something to piss off the older.

"Ah...yes." Regaining control, Wesley gestured for her to join him at the table.

Faith was dancing fast and furiously when she felt something brush her mind, something...different. Stopping, she turned, looking around the crowded club. The odd feeling dissipated, and, shrugging it off, she headed for the bar. Leaning against it, watching her, was Liam. He was dressed all in black from leather pants to silk shirt, and was gazing at her from beneath hooded, decadently long lashed eyes.

"Bottle of water," she ordered the bartender, as she dug into the pockets of her tight jeans for change.

"Thanks." She took her water, opened it and drank deeply. Slowly it sank in that Buffy's boyfriend's eyes were on her throat, watching the water go down, and she set the bottle aside. "Buffy had to go back to the Library."

"I'm not looking for Buffy." He shifted and was suddenly much closer to her. Faith felt a flutter run along her nervous system, but forced her eyes to meet his.

Faith knew he was lying, but she decided to play along, nodding and proceeding him onto the dance floor. A slow song was playing and couples were moving entwined to the music. Angel took her shoulder, turning her into his arms, his hands sliding down to rest low on the small of her back. Faith caught his upper arms, feeling the strength beneath the silk. He pulled her closer and she could feel the bulge in his jeans rub against her own crotch.

His eyebrows arched and he yanked her tighter against his body as they moved to the music. "She understands that I do anything I want."

"You hit her, don't you, you piece of shit." Faith's eyes blazed with anger as she dug her fingernails into his arms.

A matching anger rolled through Angel and he tightened his arms around her, enjoying the pounding of her heart against his chest. His eyes narrowed and he leaned down to murmur, "Watch yourself, little girl. I'm the big bad wolf."

"I ain't no fucking red riding hood." Unable to pull free of his arms, Faith brought the heel of her boot down hard on his instep. The pain that raced up his leg made him jerk away from her and Faith danced backwards.

"I'm still going to eat you," Angel growled, before turning and disappearing into the crowd.

Faith frowned, uneasy and disturbed. Sexual advances usually didn't bother her, even from her girlfriends' guys. But, there was something else going on here.

Entering his apartment Giles tossed his jacket down on a chair and went straight for the bottle of scotch. As he poured the first glass down his throat, a soft voice came from the kitchen.

"Are you going to tell me what's been bothering you the last few days?" Jenny asked, wiping her wet hands on a towel.

Giving her a bleak look, Giles poured another glass and slumped down into an easy chair to sip the fiery liquid. "Council business," he finally muttered.

"And since when have you kept that from me?" She came farther into the room and dropped to her knees next to him. One gentle hand on his knee made him meet her soft gaze. "Rupert, talk to me. If it's bad, we need to be prepared, all of us."

"I...can't tell you, Jenny," he replied, his voice strangled. "They'll remove me as her Watcher and where will that leave her?"

Jenny shook her head sadly and stroked his knee. "Then, if you can't tell me, can you put it behind you? The tension is killing you, Rupert."

'I don't know," he finally mumbled, taking her hand in his and squeezing gently. "It's stupid and it's bad and...I don't know what's going to happen."

Jenny smiled back and reached up to take the glass from him and put it on the table. "It's either that or go nuts. Now, ready for pasta primavera?"

Beneath a blanket of stars and a nearly half moon, Drusilla danced through Shady Glen Cemetery, singing softly and calling ghosts. They swirled around her, silent and as insubstantial as mist, and she shivered in delight, teasing, "I can *see* you."

Jumping onto a headstone, she spread her arms wide and stared into the moon. "Everything comes out to play with sister moon, sister moon who sees all our secrets, but won't tell, won't tell."

She looked down at the ghosts who stared up at her through sightless, mist-filled eyes. "It's coming to get her," she sang in a lilting, tuneless voice. "The big bad wolf will eat her all up."

These authors spend lots of time to write these stories. If you took the time to read this PLEASE take the time to give them some feedback. Happy writers write more ;-)

Laure Alexander - lara@sunflower.com

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