%%%
“Tell me quickly, Ranthe, all there is to know!” Aliz demanded as they jogged down the now empty hall.
Angel now headed the group while Spike stuck to the half-demon’s side like glue. Faith and Cordelia brought up the rear, nervously watching for an attack that had not yet come.
“Was that not straight out of the Lord of the Rings, or what?” Cordelia asked conversationally while Faith scanned the shadows for assassins.
Faith raised an eyebrow and whispered, “You know, if Alizelle is telling the truth about who I am – those could be my cousins.”
“Well, I’m glad you inherited all the looks, because let me tell you honey, you’ve got uglier relations than a hyena!” Cordelia whispered back, shooting a look over her shoulder at the skeletal Ranthe.
The object of Cordelia’s gaze began to quickly speak. “My lady, about fourteen days ago, your lady mother razed your lord father’s castle. She and her army destroyed most of his followers, but he escaped with his guard. By rights of war, she won his kingdom and his place on the Council. With his lands and hers, she now holds a controlling vote in the Tribunal.”
“Why didn’t she just pardon Alizelle?” Kate wanted to know.
The tall, golden elf that Aliz had called Val replied, “She could not, and retain her control of those newly won lands. It is the way of the Unseelie. One cannot show any sign of weakness. The Lady Helen has risked much just to allow her daughter to live, she could risk no more.”
Kate shuddered. “I have never been so glad to be human before. I hate politics.”
“Honey, there’s politics at home, too,” Sarah reminded her softly.
Kate flashed the other woman a wicked grin. “Yeah, but I don’t have to deal with it, if I don’t want to. Something tells me that these people eat politics for breakfast.”
Val laughed. “You’re very perceptive, for a human.” He turned to Alizelle. “Are you sure you want to take them all home, my lady? I could use a mortal with brains.”
“She’s spoken for,” Sarah said, her voice dangerously low.
“Sarah, I can speak for myself,” Kate said, giving her friend a meaningful glance.
Sarah reached out a hand and wrapped it around Kate’s arm and then locked her eyes with Kate’s. “Mine,” she whispered, daring the investigator to challenge her.
The elf laughed again. “I can see when I’m defeated, mortal. I hope you can too.”
Ahead of the group, Angel sniffed the air. Something wasn’t right. There was more to the stillness than just blood, death and misery. Something, moving, breathing. Handsome features shifted to demonic as the group rounded the corner and exited into the courtyard.
“It’s a trap!” he yelled, diving for the closest cover. “Make for the car! Cold iron shields!”
Armored men and demons erupted from the shadows, shrieking and yelling in bloodlust.
The group fanned out, taking on as many as they could while trying to cut their way free. The sounds of metal on metal, gunfire and howls of pain blended to create an unworldly symphony of chaos. J’Valamyr crossed his arms and started chanting. His golden armor began to glow brighter and brighter, causing many of the Unseelie attackers to turn and flee, unable to stand the brightness of his aura.
Other warriors spilled into the courtyard behind Angel’s people, taking up arms against Alizelle’s attackers. In the center of the battlefield, Wes and Gunn stood back to back, facing a three-headed ogre with a wicked looking club. The tall black man blocked the monster’s club while Wes, who was smaller and faster than Gunn, whipped his rapier out, leaving deep, nasty cuts in the ogre’s charcoal gray flesh.
As he worked his way across the courtyard, Spike threw knives with a deadly accuracy, dropping those who got in his way, all while dragging Alizelle behind him, shielding her with his body. Halfway across the field, he had several wooden shafts piercing his flesh, and there was a long, nasty gash across his chest that bled weakly, soaking his shirt. The blonde vampire’s face was a study in rage, as the demon within came out snarling.
Alizelle had been hit in the thigh by one of the Unseelie arrows and had to limp to keep up with her bodyguard. She chanted softly, attempting to create a shield of magic, but her powers seemed to weaken even as she called for them. She looked down at the arrow and cursed softly. It was one of the magical constructs the Fae were known for, an elf shot. Alizelle realized the missile had been enchanted to siphon off magickal energy. It would be too hard to pull it out now, however, since Spike was moving so erratically. She could cause more injury than harm if she tried to remove it. Instead, the half demon concentrated on staying out of the way and following her bodyguard.
Angel was a whirlwind of death. The stakes that were always hidden in his sleeves were currently decorating a devil’s throat, having been used within the first seconds of the battle. Now, he fought with two swords he had taken from fallen foemen. In front of him were two of the gnarled, hardy creatures called boggins. The creatures fought conservatively, dancing out of way of his blades, keeping him occupied while their larger, stronger companions attacked the others.
Rain began to fall; thick, wet drops that muddied the courtyard quickly, making it hard for both sides to see. Mud pits quickly formed, creating swampy hazards for all of the fighters. Lightening bolts split the sky, brightening the field of battle, illuminating the dead and the dying to the Council who watched by way of a scrying pool, safely ensconced in the main hall. They would do nothing to interfere; the judgment had been made.
Faith was running out of bullets. One of her guns was already empty; that she had tucked in a pocket in favor of a shield taken from the arm of a dead furry thing. Cordelia was pressed against her back, doing her fair share of fighting, though the slayer could feel that the seer was beginning to tire. She could feel the slowed reaction time and hear as Cordelia panted between onslaughts. The slayer peered through the rain, searching intently. There, where Angel was facing several short, wrinkled looking creatures, was the portcullis and gatehouse. They were almost there! A bright flash caught her attention. It was the metallic gleam of a raised sword – one of the Unseelie attackers was trying to cut off their escape!
Praying to any god that would listen, Faith took careful aim, and squeezed the trigger. Everything came down to the report of her weapon and the bullet’s path. Faith watched the blade slice through the air, almost connecting with the rope that held the portcullis lever in place. Distinctly, she heard the crunch of the man’s boots as he carried through with his swing and then, bright green blood sprayed outward from the dark elf’s head as the bullet found its mark. The body, now missing half its head, fell away from the lever, landing with a wet splash in a puddle.
Faith looked down at her shaking hand. Her weapon was empty, the slide thrown back and a thin wisp of smoke trailing up from the barrel. Pocketing the weapon, she grabbed Cordelia’s arm and started to run, pulling her lover behind her and using her shield as a battering ram for anything that got in her way.
Spike and Aliz had just made it to the car. Spike shoved his charge inside and used the door as a shield, standing up just in time to grab Cordelia when Faith literally threw the seer at the blonde vampire, and then turned back to help the others.
“Faith! No!” Cordelia tried to climb back out, but Alizelle held her down.
“She’s got to do this alone, Cordelia! She has to know you are safe!” the half demon shouted, even though her own eyes burned with tears.
“What the hell do you care? She’s only your daughter!” Cordelia shouted back, struggling with the woman.
“I care more than you will ever know,” Alizelle whispered tenderly and then spoke three words in a harsh language, forcing the magic to work. There was a flashfire of pain that started from her leg and raged through her body, but she felt the magic trickle out of her and into the young woman she was wrestling. Cordelia’s eyes rolled back in her head and she passed out, sleeping.
Faith scooped up a fallen sword and carved a bloody path to Wes and Gunn, who were both badly injured, leaning on each other and trying to run from the ogre, who now only had one head, but was still stronger than the two of them. With a yell of fury, Faith leapt for the monster, taking off his final head with one, solid stroke of her sword. The head flew across the courtyard, spraying thick, black blood in a wide arc before it crunched into the wall, shattering like an overripe pumpkin. The ogre’s body slumped to the ground heavily and Faith leapt out of its way, turning to run a goblin through before he could take a swipe at the fleeing forms of Wesley and Gunn.
Both men weakly pressed on, barely making it to the car. Spike helped them in, taking Wes’ sword away in time to deflect an arrow away and eviscerate a tiny, orange and pink scaled demon. The blonde vamp kicked away the shrieking monster and looked into Wes’ dark eyes.
“You owe me, Watcher,” Spike snarled under his breath. Wesley only nodded his understanding and turned to care for Gunn’s wounds, which were worse than his own. The taller man moaned as Wes’ capable hands worked to staunch the worst of the bleeding.
J’Valamyr had vanished after his stunt with his aura, leaving only Kate, Sarah, Angel and Faith in the courtyard. Kate and Sarah were nearly to the car and Faith was helping a wounded Angel limp through the mostly empty courtyard when they all heard the sound of hoof beats.
%%%
High Lord D’Hoffryn surveyed the battle from a hill above the castle. It was not going well. Anger suffused his demonic hide, making his skin steam in the rain. They were not supposed to win, these mortals. They should not be able to withstand the might of the Lord of the Sixth Plane. It was an outrage! The demon kneed his steed into action, letting out a howl of anger as he charged toward the battlefield.
%%%
“Vengeance! I will have my vengeance!” came a rage-filled cry. What remained of the Unseelie attackers quickly formed up around their charging leader, heading right for the remaining mortals.
Faith and Angel were in the car; the slayer was pulling Cordelia onto her lap, checking her lover for injuries when she looked up to see Kate fall, clutching her shoulder. A dark, blue-gray metal shaft that glowed with an eerie purple light protruded from the blonde investigator’s left shoulder. Blood was already pumping out through her fingers where she clutched her arm.
“Kate!” Sarah shouted, and then reached for Kate’s gun. Back flipping onto the roof of the car, Sarah screamed her defiance at the onrushing horde, firing both of her weapons nonstop. Her aim fell upon the demon on horseback and she emptied the clip of Kate’s weapon into his chest. D’Hoffryn fell, and the horde stopped, seeming to lose all of their will. Without their lord to lead the charge, the remaining few Unseelie ran like scared rabbits. Then, the soldiers of Lady Helen came out of the castle and gave chase.
Sarah toppled off the roof and into Spike’s arms. He carefully laid the unconscious human in the car and climbed in, closing the door behind him.
The blonde vampire rapped on the window and yelled, “Drive!”
The car jolted forward as the army of Lady Helen flowed around them, providing both an escort and a guardian for them to escape any other hazards Lord D’Hoffryn might have left behind.
The window came down. J’Valamyr Sykorous turned and grinned at the passengers. “I’d like to extend a heartfelt invitation for you all to join me at Castle Balance.”
%%%
The phone
rang and rang. Buffy
stared down at the
receiver in her hand in frustration.
“I
don’t get it,” she said grumpily.
“Why
isn’t anyone answering their phones in
From the bed, Amy sleepily replied, “Maybe they’re on a case, hon.”
Buffy looked out the window at the sunlight that streamed in, brightening a corner of their bedroom. “It’s daytime, Amy. Angel would be all with the going up in a pillar of flames if he was out there right now.”
Amy sat up and looked at the clock by the bed. “Buffy, it’s six a.m. Maybe they’re all asleep?”
“Nuh-uh, I’ve called several times; I’m getting answering machines for all of them,” the blonde slayer replied. “Damn it Angel, answer the phone,” she whined, stamping her foot.
“Honey, just what is so important that you must talk to him right now?” Amy asked softly, getting out of bed and padding over to wrap her arms around her lover.
Buffy sighed and leaned into Amy’s embrace. “It’s Angel’s birthday. I thought I’d call and sing him ‘Happy Birthday’. I do it every year.”
Amy kissed Buffy’s cheek. “You are so sweet, love.” She nuzzled the slayer. “I bet they’re all on a case, though. I’m sure he’s not a big ol’ pillar of fire, though. They would have called you by now,” Amy reassured her.
Buffy hung up the phone. “Maybe,” she admitted softly, turning and burying her head in the taller girl’s neck. “Did you hear Anya and Xander get in last night?”
Amy had gone to bed after Buffy, having stayed up to study. “No, honey, I didn’t. Why?”
“I was just thinking that maybe they had stopped in to say hey to Angel or something…”
“And therefore might know something about what’s up?” Amy intuited, grinning at her lover’s abashed blush. “Hon, please, don’t worry. I’m sure everything is just fine. Now, come back to bed, please? I need my morning slayer snuggles.”
Buffy
sighed and squeezed Amy tightly. “I
never could say no to snuggling you,
%%%
“So this is what a real Faerie castle looks like,” Cordelia said dreamily as she lay back on a huge bed. J’Valamyr’s people had given the group rooms in which to recuperate. The seer had awakened just as she was laid out on the incredibly soft bed. Faith was pacing the room, acting like a caged animal.
“Guess so,” she growled unhappily. A servant had promised that a healer would be up to look over their wounds and that more servants would draw them baths to clean.
Cordelia sat up and picked up a crystal vase that was sitting on the nightstand, looking at it longingly. “My, aren’t you Miss Cheerypants,” she said, though her attention was still on the overt richness of the room.
“I don’t like it, that’s all!” Faith said unhappily. “Remember what my moth-what Aliz said? Nothing ever comes without a cost in Faerie. I’m afraid the price for all this luxury will be more than we can pay.”
Cordelia sighed in exasperation. “Can’t you accept something good for once? Come on, it’s beautiful here! Look at all this!” she gestured around the chamber, which, though brighter and cheerier, was furnished much the same as the Unseelie castle had been – ostentatiously. “How could anyone with this much cash to throw around want anything from us?”
A bit of light pulled itself away from the window and formed into a golden being that glowed so brightly, that both young women had to shield their eyes.
“The machinations of the Fae are both inscrutable and devious in the extreme,” said a honeyed voice. “Though in J’Valamyr’s case, they are driven by the joined motives of honor and duty. You are safe in Castle Balance, for the time being, Mortals. Do the children of Danu honor, and accept this gift, just once.” The amorphous light began to take on a better shape. As the two girls squinted, a gold armored man appeared. He had flowing, blonde hair and a body that the Greek gods would have done murder for. It was the eyes, though, that called to Faith, that spoke to her like none other had.
They were her eyes, looking back at her for the first time, ever.
“F-father?” she whispered, unsure if the word were right, or even if she wanted to claim it.
A gentle smile graced the avatar’s lips. “My Faith. I am proud to have given you to the mortals,” he replied sadly.
“You must call her Faith,” Stefan said hoarsely, as his beloved Alizelle held him. Shivers wracked his body, even as the fire of Unseelie poison burned in his veins. Red, weeping lesions erupted on his face. “For I have nothing left to give the world, but my Faith. She will be a force to be reckoned with, I think,” he whispered as Aliz brushed cool lips over his forehead. Sightless eyes roamed as shaking hands reached out to grasp the woman he had come to live – and die – for. “Promise me, my love, promise me you will honor that request.”
“I
promise, my darling,” Alizelle said, her own voice torn with tears.
A smile
came, through the pain. “I
love you,
Alizelle. Always.”
“I love you, J’Stefanor, always,” Aliz replied, kissing his brow one last time.
“You’re dead,” Faith pointed out dryly, having gotten her equilibrium back during the momentary silence. “Is this some kind of Faerie trick?”
Stefan shook his golden head. “No trick, Faith. The flesh of my body is gone, but my spirit remains forever in the service of my Goddess. It is she who bade me to come to you, and offer you reassurances.”
“And we’re supposed to believe you because?” Faith knew she might be offending the man who donated half of her chromosomes, but at this point, she just didn’t care anymore. She had come to a new world to protect a woman who had abandoned her as a child to be raised by a woman who nearly killed her. There wasn’t much fellow feeling left in the dark haired slayer for the people who were biologically responsible for her being on the planet, especially since if they had never had her, a great many wrongs would never have been committed.
Of course, you’d never have known Cordelia, either, a quiet voice whispered into her mind. Faith closed her eyes and shook her head slightly, trying to quiet the voice. Not even loving Cordelia was worth a life, was it?
“Love is worth everything,” Stefan said, answering Faith’s thought. “Every ill, every suffering, every wrong is worth being loved. It is only when we forget that love can heal suffering, can never be wrong and should always be freely given that we commit the greatest of sins, Faith.”
The vase that Cordelia had so longingly looked at tumbled from nerveless fingers, hitting the ground with a solid thud as she watched her lover fight her inner demons. The seer knew that she had to overcome her own materialistic haze and reach through the pain and self-hatred that boiled on the surface of Faith’s expression.
She calmly walked to the slayer’s side and gathered her close. “I love you, Faith, never forget that,” she murmured, brushing her cheek against Faith’s sweat and blood soaked head.
“Faith,” Stefan said, knowing he still had his daughter’s attention. “Would you die for her?”
“Yes,” Faith answered without hesitation. I knew it! I knew there would be a price! She thought triumphantly, beginning to disengage Cordelia’s hands from her waist.
“Then have the courage to live for her, as well. Consider that the cost, if you will, of Faerie aid. For all of you. Consider it, as well, the only gift a father can give his only heir.” The avatar vanished, leaving behind a daughter who had begun to weep heavily into the chest of her lover.
%%%
Kate became aware of her surroundings when she felt the strange arrow tugged through her shoulder.
“Sonovabitch!” she screamed, sitting up and tossing aside the Elf who held her down like so much chaff. Spots danced in her eyes and she suddenly felt incredibly nauseous. Bile raced up her esophagus, and before she could control herself, she was leaning over and retching on the floor. Then, she passed out again.
The second time she woke, she was lying in a bed, her shoulder was bandaged and her arm was bound to her chest. There was a slight pressure on her hip and when she looked down, she had to smile. Sarah was sitting in a chair, hunched over, with her head pillowed on Kate’s side. Soft snores reached the investigator’s ears. Moving very slowly, Kate reached down and barely touched the soft brown locks of Sarah’s hair, ruffling them slightly.
Sarah woke immediately. “Kate,” she whispered as she sat up. Kate was pained to see dark circles under Sarah’s bright blue eyes. Red rimmed those eyes as well, telling the former cop that the young woman had been crying.
“Hey,” Kate replied, trying to sit up and failing miserably. “Ow,” she groaned, as her shoulder shot fire down her entire body. “What the hell hit me, a Mack truck? Did anyone get the license?” she joked weakly.
Sarah got up and helped Kate ease into a seated position, packing pillows behind her friend’s back for support. Kate blushed when she realized she was naked, but allowed Sarah to help anyway. After all, the woman had showered with her and they were kinda-sorta lovers, right? Sarah handed Kate a glass of water, which the investigator gratefully took.
“Thanks,” she said, after drinking almost half the glass in one swallow. “My mouth tasted like the bathroom floor of a bar after a football game.”
“Nice visual, Kate,” Sarah drawled, pulling a face.
“Yeah, it makes your morning mouth look tasty,” Kate retorted jokingly.
Two dark eyebrows shot up. “Well, shall we test that theory?” Sarah challenged and then leaned forward to brush soft lips over the investigator’s mouth gently.
Kate’s quickly indrawn breath alerted Sarah to her friend’s need and she deepened the kiss, moaning when Kate tangled her one free hand in Sarah’s dark brown hair.
“God, I needed that,” Kate muttered softly when Sarah pulled away. She shifted, and grimaced when pain shot down her arm. “So, what’s wrong with me?” she looked down at the bandages swaddling her shoulder and binding her arm to her chest.
“You got shot, Kate,” Sarah told her softly, looking away as the memory of the arrow punching through her friend’s body surfaced once more.
“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here, Sarah,” Kate reached out and grabbed Sarah’s hand, which had curled into a tight fist. “Tell me about it? Was it a through and through? I can take it.”
Sarah sat on the edge of the bed, pulled out her sobriety token and began fumbling with it. “I don’t know that I can really explain it, since I don’t understand half of it, myself. Val says you’ve been ‘elf shot’, and that it’s permanent. But I haven’t been able to get anyone to tell me what that means,” Sarah shrugged sadly. “All I know is they pulled this,” she reached over and pulled a long, black arrow shaft off a silver tray and handed it to Kate. “Out of your shoulder.”
Kate examined the arrow. It was broken off; half of the shaft and fletching were gone. What remained was the spade-shaped head and solid black shaft. There was a lot of dried blood clinging to it and she queasily realized it was her blood. The head of the arrow was made of some strange metal, not iron or steel, something more malleable, yet just as strong.
“Val said that you’d have some trouble with your arm, as it heals. And then, even when it’s healed, you won’t be able to use it like you could before,” Sarah said, keeping her eyes pinned somewhere on the wall behind Kate’s head. “He said that there’s some kind of cursed magic that goes into the creation of that arrow, and it’s linked to the maker – who is very dead. So there’s no way to reverse the spell. He was pretty sure that it wasn’t a death curse, since you’re still alive, but beyond that, he can’t say; he didn’t know the maker. Whatever it is, though, I want to be here for you,” she said softly, bringing her gaze down to meet Kate’s eyes, which had turned a misty gray while Sarah had spoken.
“Nasty bit of work,” Kate said, dropping the arrow down on the tray. She and Sarah held gazes, listening to each other breathe in the stillness. Neither woman blinked. “I-I’m not the kind of person to ask for help much,” Kate admitted softly. Her stomach growled loudly, breaking the somber mood. “Can I eat? Or am I on my deathbed?” she asked plaintively.
Sarah laughed. “I don’t think even death would stand between you and a good meal, Kate.” She got up and opened the door, signaling to an unseen servant. Shortly, four young girls brought in a couple of trays, laying out a nice meal for both women.
A robe was brought out and the girls helped Kate stand and then dressed her in the soft, shimmering gown of pale blue silk. Sarah’s long, dropped-jaw stare and whistle of appreciation brought out the color on the investigator’s cheeks.
“Oh shut up,” she grumbled, sitting down at the small table near the fire.
The meal was simple fare. Soup, thick slabs of dark bread and large cups of tea went down smoothly and easily.
“This is pretty good,” Sarah said around a mouthful of bread. “I guess it’s worth sticking around for.”
“What?” Kate sipped her tea slowly.
“Remember what they said when first got to this weird assed place? Don’t eat the food?” Sarah asked, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.
The teacup began to shake in Kate’s hand and Sarah was just able to catch it before the investigator dropped it and burned herself. “Oh shit,” Kate whispered.
Sarah couldn’t keep the grin from breaking out over her face. “Gotcha!” she crowed, setting the cup down on the table.
Kate stared at her.
Sarah swallowed. “I’m so in trouble, aren’t I?”
“Uh huh. Start talking, brownie,” Kate commanded in a deep voice.
“Oo, I just love it when you get butch,” Sarah teased. Kate growled and half stood. “Okay, okay, geeze, hang on to your shorts, Katie. Oh, wait, you don’t have any shorts, do you?” she grinned. “Faith came by earlier while you were dancing with the birdies and told me that we’re okay here, that we could trust this stuff because we’re being paid for helping Alizelle.”
“Okay, that makes sense. Must be a part of that whole honor thing of theirs.” Kate reached for another slice of bread. “You’re sure this is okay? I mean, maybe it’s kind of cumulative. If I eat only so much, they’ll only keep me for so long…”
“I’m sure. Angel confirmed it. He’s already gone back once,” Sarah assured her friend.
“Okay, great.”
The two women ate in silence then, allowing the warmth of the fire to penetrate. Kate felt a little silly in the silky robe, but she noted that Sarah was also dressed in unusual garb. Someone had found the smaller brunette a pair of blousy pants and a lightweight tunic that seemed to flow and cling to her muscular form.
“You look really nice,” Kate commented; allowing herself to take a good, long look at her friend.
Sarah blushed. “Thanks. You look pretty hot yourself.” The brunette began to fidget, rolling the wooden sobriety token around her fingers again and again.
Kate closed her hand over her friend’s hand. “You okay?” she asked softly.
Sarah ducked her head and shrugged noncommittally. “Guess so,” she mumbled.
Okay, let’s see, I bet she’s freaking out because of me. Guess that makes two of us. I could have died! She could have died! And we’ve, I’ve never said how I feel. How do I feel? Do I care? Does it matter anymore that all I want is to kiss her? To touch her, hold her, and have her touch me back? I’ve never been much for the whole, “lover” thing. Is this different? Am I different? The softness of the hand under hers contrasted with the sharp edges of the wooden token and the rough cord that had been poked through a small hole in the top of the coin.
Blue eyes continued to stare at the table, unable to look up at the face of the silent investigator. Kate ran her thumb over the back of Sarah’s hand, pulling away the token as she did.
Sarah looked up in shock at Kate. The investigator smiled reassuringly and shook out the cord, letting the token dangle from her fingers.
“Mind if I wear this for a while?” she asked softly, searching Sarah’s face for any signs that she didn’t want this to happen.
Sarah’s eyes glistened wetly. “Yeah, sure,” she whispered harshly. “I mean, it’d be great, you know, because, I mean…” she babbled as Kate pulled the necklace around her head and then shook her hair out.
The wooden token looked strangely right against the sky blue silk of the robe. The blackened number “2” stood out in stark relief against the light colored wood on one side, the other held an intricately etched rose. The flower had been lightly tinted, causing the carved lines to shine with color when held to the light.
“This wasn’t here before,” Kate said as she examined the medallion curiously.
“I get bored,” Sarah said, shrugging a little. “I found some of my old stuff in a drawer and, just, started, carving, you know?” Sarah said, flushing slightly. Truthfully, she had been working on it almost nonstop since coming home from the treatment center, but only when Kate wasn’t looking. It had not been easy to hide her little project, especially when she had woken up wrapped around Kate that one morning, but all her hard work was worth the gentle expression of awe that covered the investigator’s face.
“It’s beautiful, Sar. I like it,” Kate replied, smiling warmly and remembering how Sarah would come home late from a night of partying and then stay up for hours, painting eerie, unsettling images. This had started not long after the wound in Sarah’s leg had healed, and had continued all the way up until Sarah had voluntarily checked herself into rehab – after she had come home and used her own blood as paint.
She had passed out after finishing and covering the painting. When she came to, Kate had already gone to work. The painting was still under its cover and her fingertips ached fiercely. There was a bandage she didn’t remember using on her arm, and a note with two words on it sitting on the table.
Get help, was all it said. Sarah knew whom it was from. That afternoon, she gathered all her artwork, took it out to the trashcan and burned it. Then she carefully packed up all her things, called a taxi and had the driver take her to the Tumbleweeds. The note she had left had been just as terse. Getting help.
“Thank you,” Sarah whispered, reaching out to take Kate’s hand in hers. Someday, she would tell Kate everything. Someday, she would be able to give Kate a gift as precious as the one she had been given. “How about I help you back to that oh, so comfortable looking bed over there?”
“Only if you promise to share it with me,” Kate retorted glibly, and then gasped at her own boldness. “I mean, you looked so exhausted and, it can’t have been very restful to use my bony-assed hip for a pillow.”
Sarah hid a smile. “Oh yeah, it was just horrible, having to put my hard cheek on your soft leg. It was a real hardship, I tell ya.”
Both women stood, with Kate leaning on Sarah until they got to the bed. Then the smaller woman helped the investigator remove her robe and climb into the large, comfortable bed. Shyly, Sarah turned around and pulled off her own clothes, and then hurriedly she got under the covers, snuggling up to Kate’s good side.
Sarah patted her shoulder. “Let me hold you, for a while?” she asked softly.
“I’d like that,” Kate replied, sliding down the mattress and putting her head on Sarah’s chest and letting out a satisfied sigh when Sarah’s arm wrapped around her loosely.
“Good night, Kate,” Sarah whispered, kissing the top of her friend’s head.
“Night, Sar,” Kate replied sleepily, already beginning to drift away. Muzzily, she brushed her lips over Sarah’s chest, and then fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
%%%
“Faith,” Cordelia called up to her lover, who was staring off into space. The two were curled up on the big bed in their chamber. Cordelia had her head pillowed on the slayer’s abdomen and was casually scratching spirally patterns into Faith’s flesh.
“Mm,” Faith murmured, her eyes half lidded in hedonistic pleasure.
“You ever gonna stop throwing yourself in the way of danger for me? I’m a big girl, you know. I can handle getting hurt,” Cordelia said wistfully, brushing a gentle kiss across the slayer’s skin to take the sting out of her words.
Faith sighed. “I’m sorry,” she said sincerely. “I just can’t stop myself sometimes. You mean so much to me, sweet cheeks,” Faith whispered, reaching down and ruffling the seer’s bangs. “I don’t want to lose you, or see you hurt, so I try to do everything I can to stop that.”
“Well, give it a rest, okay? Because I’m here for the long haul,” Cordelia said, nipping Faith’s belly lightly and then sliding up her body to plant several lingering kisses on the slayer’s lips. “I’m not going anywhere without you.”
“Yeah?” Faith said, flipping them over and beginning a thorough exploration of the seer’s lips.
“Mm,” Cordelia purred. “Oh yeah,” she replied, tangling her fingers in Faith’s hair and kissing her deeply.
%%%
It was a solemn group that left the neutral Faerie land a week later. Angel, Kate, Gunn and Spike spent that time recuperating while the others either doted on their partners, or explored the strange land.
Faith and
Cordelia had spent a lot of their time in the presence of J’Valamyr
Sykorous,
who was Faith’s uncle, amazingly.
The
Elf had a sardonic wit and a dry sense of humor that immediately
endeared him
to his niece, though she refused to claim what he called her, “blood
rights”
from the
She found her answer in the form of a mural painted on the walls of the main hall. Hundreds of years work by Faerie artisans told the story of the Sundering of the Fae into three clans: the Seelie, the Unseelie and the Others. The Seelie Fae’s beliefs were closer to the light side of Danu, their goddess - the Unseelie, the dark. The Others were the balanced ones, they chose neither light nor dark, following instead creed of honorable neutrality. J’Valamyr was one such Other, working as a liaison between the Courts. He wasn’t completely trustworthy, and yet he wasn’t evil incarnate. Faith found herself able to understand and accept his decisions, enjoying the man’s company for what it was worth.
Alizelle had avoided the group, keeping her distance, until that morning when Faith and Cordelia had caught her walking through the western gardens.
“Mother,”
Faith tried the word, calling it out softly.
Aliz
whirled away from the rosebush she had been sniffing, uncertain joy
written in
her face. “Faith?”
she responded,
keeping the hope in her voice to the barest minimum.
“I’ve
read some of the histories that Uncle Val has been working on,” the
slayer said
quietly. “It – I’m
not sure it changes
anything, but, for what it’s worth, I don’t hate you.”
Tears
sparkled in Alizelle’s eyes and all she could do was nod mutely.
Cordelia’s
heart ached for both women, she could feel how badly Faith was shaking
and she
had been the one to hold the young woman when she cried herself to
sleep every
night they had been in the castle.
She
had read some of those histories herself, after Faith had fallen into
her
exhausted, restless sleep. The
seer now
had a deeper understanding of why Alizelle had done what she had – it
was all
to save her daughter’s life, to keep her away from the harshness that
was life
in the
Cordelia
wrapped her arm around her lover’s waist and gave her a light squeeze. Faith automatically leaned
into her, resting
her head against her shoulder slightly.
“Well, I
guess we’ll see you later, that is, if you’re coming back with us?”
Faith asked
uncertainly.
“Yes, I
am. Spike – he and
I have some things to
talk about,” Aliz said distantly.
“Oh,
well, okay. Later,
then,” Faith replied,
turning with Cordelia to walk away.
“Faith,”
Alizelle called out suddenly. Faith
looked back over her shoulder. Alizelle
bit her lip. “Do
you think, would you
be, would it be possible for us to have lunch, sometimes?” she finally
asked.
Conflicting
emotions raced across the slayer’s beautiful face, finally resolving
into a
tentative smile. “I
think I’d like
that,” she said slowly, feeling the warmth of her lover’s presence grow
even
closer as Cordelia gave her an encouraging hug.
Aliz
returned the smile. “Good. I’ll, um, call you,” she
said hesitantly, as
if not quite certain this was all real.
“Okay,”
Faith said, and then she and Cordelia went in search of something to do
for a
few hours.
The
battered, but still functional Limousine broke the world walls between
Underhill and the
%%%
Cordelia sat in front of her monitor. All the lights in the house were off except for the glow of the 17” screen that had been a special gift from Faith several months earlier. The soft, rapid fire clicking of keys bespoke the seer’s competence as a typist as she worked her way through piles of email.
It was well after three in the morning. Faith was curled up on the bed, fast asleep, her soft, rumbling snores creating an odd counterpoint to the hum of the refrigerator and the whine of the air conditioner.
Cordelia smiled at her sleeping lover, and then returned her attention to the screen. Angel had, no doubt, called up to Sunnydale to give them one of his terse, monosyllabic reports, but she wanted to give Amy all the gory details. It wouldn’t take long, and then, her eyes drifted back to Faith, who had tossed off the covers to reveal a nude form, then she would join her lover for a long, well deserved, nap.
fin
7/18/01
For those that follow my musical inspirations: Skindive has been a constant companion throughout the writing of this story.
Author’s Note: If you or someone you know
is being abused,
please, get help. End
the cycle. Here is
a number you can call in the
To my readers
in the
Childline 0800
1111 and the website
is: http://www.childline.org.uk