Time Travel

Author: Ivy Gort

Rating: PG

Pairing: F/F (Buffy/Faith)

Spoilers: Enemies

Note: Faith loves Buffy. Okay, okay, I’ll admit it, I’m only writing this because I want too! SO there! The entire story is contrived and most likely won’t work—but it’s what I want to do.

Title: Don’t know yet. But I think it will be along the lines of Time-Travel. But I will take other suggestions.

Feedback: Please!!! Oh, please, because I am a beginner and need help and encouragement.

URL: http://www.angelfire.com/ca4/faithzangel/index.html

Time Travel

By Ivy Gort

Faith watched as the Mayor walked over to his liquor cabinet that contained more than just whiskey.

"Now you are sure about this Faith," he said in a kind fatherly voice. The same voice that made Faith feel loved and wanted for the first time in her life. "Things were really different back then."

Faith thought about her plan again; the mayor wanted Buffy out of the way. She was really the only danger to him, if she decided to attack him. The Mayor didn’t want Buffy dead because of the possibility of a new slayer being called. As he put it, he knew who Buffy was and where to find her—but now that was changing. With the help of Angel, Buffy was keeping the vampire population down; the mayor needed a certain amount of loyal and trained vampires for his upcoming Accession. When the mayor had told Faith about his plan capture Buffy and then let his vampires use her anyway they wished, short of killing her—Faith rebelled. So this was their compromise: the mayor would supply a drug powerful enough to knock Buffy out for the twenty-four hours it took to open a gate. The gate would be to the 1899 version of Sunnydale, where Faith would take the drugged, sick, and confused Buffy to his homestead to live.

"Edna May so wanted to have children." The mayor sighed as he walked back to where Faith was sitting and handed her a packet containing a fine white powder. "They will attack you two tonight at the Restfield cemetery, they will throw this in her face—it takes about 10 minutes to work—so try to not to kill them all." The Mayor smiled at Faith and took the packet back as he
walked behind his desk.

"Are you sure you will be able to handle her once you get there?" He asked, the fatherly tone gone from his voice, his eyes hard, and the demon part of his personality shining through the human exterior.

Faith looked away, she knew she could kill every demon that walked the earth and yet this man frightened her. Not because of he couldn’t be killed, but because she was so afraid of disappointing him. He pulled her out of that lowly and lonely hotel room when no one else would give her the time of day. He gave her things, made her feel like she was helping him and that he couldn’t survive without her. He trusted her and in turn she felt her walls slowly fall—she would do anything for him—anything. Except let him kill Buffy.

Faith smiled back at the mayor; "tell me again what that stuff will do?"

The mayor’s entire face lit up like he was a little boy. "Alrighty," he answered sitting down in his chair. Faith knew he loved this part, explaining how his little magical potions or spells worked. It would keep him busy for the next hour at least....

Part Two

"No, Faith let him go. I don’t think he falls into the deadly threat to humanity category."

"A demon is a demon." Faith said looking around for the vamps that were supposed to spring the ‘ambush.’ Then a weight landed on top of Faith and she felt herself being lifted and literally thrown twenty feet into the waiting arms of two other vamps. By the time she was able to turn back towards Buffy, the blonde slayer was in full battle mode, but still getting slowly backed up toward the mausoleum by the concerted effort of three other vamps.

The two vamps holding Faith also turned to watch the ambush unfold. One of the three vamps finally landed a blow to Buffy’s face, which pushed her directly under the roof over hang of the crypt. The little slayer was engulfed in the fine white powder thrown down by the remaining vamp on the roof. Buffy’s reaction was immediate, the smaller slayer spun grabbing a stake out of her belt and throwing it directly into the chest of one of the vamps holding Faith.

Faith stood stunned; "It’s a trap Faith run." The other slayer shouted as she landed a blow to the face of one of the vamps fighting her. Buffy kicked another one of her attackers and turned to stake the one that had dropped down from the roof behind her.

"Faith, please go! I can’t hold them off …." Buffy cried, panic clearly in her voice. Faith was frozen, Buffy knew as soon as the first of the dust floated down on top of her, that it was a trap but instead of trying to save herself, to escape—she tried to save Faith. The younger slayer was completely overwhelmed.

The vamp pretending to hold Faith tightened his grip out of fear that the slayer would double cross them, but Faith remained passive, to intent on the drama being played before her. The remaining vamps circled Buffy, staying away from her, and yet not giving her an opening to run. After a few moments Faith noticed Buffy starting to stumble, her movements slow and awkward, nothing resembling the fluid grace Faith so loved to watch. Buffy wrapped her arms around her stomach and nearly folded, almost going down. The vamp to the blonde slayer’s left relaxed, Faith could see it in his posture, he knew Buffy was seconds from succumbing to the drug and that was his mistake. Buffy ran at him and before he could react she had staked him. The tiny slayer tried to take advantage of the opening, but she only made it a few steps before she once again wrapped her arms around herself collapsing to ground.

Faith pulled out of the vamp’s arms and ran to Buffy, sliding on her knees next to the tiny slayer. Faith, grabed her by her shoulders and eased the smaller girl back against her, as Buffy’s entire body was racked suddenly by harsh coughing.

"Easy, I have you." Faith whispered into Buffy’s ear rocking her between the coughing fits. The younger slayer felt wetness on her hands and was horrified to see blood.

"Faith?" Buffy asked weakly, "Faith, why didn’t you go? You could have gotten away." Before Faith could answer her, Buffy’s tiny body was racked once again by the convulsive coughing; finally ending with the little slayer shaking like a leaf. Faith could feel the heat of an explosive fever beginning to rise off of her skin as the older slayer broke out into a sweat.

Faith could only rock her and comfort the tiny blonde, hoping that the blessed unconsciousness the mayor had promised would hurry up and take her. When the mayor told Faith about his plans to capture Buffy by using the drug Faith had envisioned it knocking Buffy out quick and clean--never in her nightmares did she think this would happen. After an eternity Faith felt Buffy take a deep breath, her body relaxing, leaning back into the taller slayer’s arms, the hand Buffy had been using to cover her mouth as she coughed flopped bonelessly to her side. Faith sighed at last; she looked
up to see the remaining vamps circling them like sharks, still in full game face. She noticed the bloody foam at the corners of Buffy’s mouth and used her thumb to wipe it away.

The vamp that seemed to be in charge was watching her movements with nothing short of hungry arrogance. "The Mayor changed plans," it sneered, "he’s sending you two back tonight. Something about the stars being in prefect alignment." The vamp turned to the one close to Faith, "go get the car. We don’t have much time."

The arrogant vamp walked up to the two girls; "here I’ll carry her to the car." He said reaching down to lift Buffy out of Faith'’ lap. And promptly turned into a pile of dust. Faith turned to the one remaining vamp, glaring at him. Barely checked rage building in her—she knew the only reason a vamp wanted to help carry the slayer was so that he could have a taste. He was their leader so, despite the mayor’s had orders, and he would have bitten Buffy.

Attacking her while she was unconscious and sick, which, Faith thought, was exactly the Mayor’s plan was just too low. The taller slayer pulled her friend closer to her, trying to project a territorial stare at the last vamp and at the same time trying to block out the truth of the her father figures
actions.

The car drove up and Faith very gently picked Buffy up. The tiny slayer’s eyes fluttered open briefly, and then she snuggled closer into the taller girl. And Faith felt like her heart was torn in two: guilt at her betrayal warring equally with blinding hope.

Part 3

The Mayor or as he preferred Richard, stalked the hilltop. He had carefully kept this one section of Sunnydale exactly the same for the past hundred years waiting for this night. Tonight his destiny would come full circle—tonight he would send the two keys to his immortality back to his beginning. He did yet another round of the ritual space making sure every rune, every symbol was perfect in the exact place it should be; he was a sorcerer—not a Witch—he didn’t work with the natural flow of the earth’s energies; he worked against them. Thus, he needed an energy source for his power and his energy of choice was taken from a property tortured and terrorized person. He laughed; Vampires or other demons would work in a crunch, but the glories of human emotions were the ambrosia that made his dark magic work. It had taken 17 young high school kids to create enough energy to override the walls of time to send the two slayers back—the two slayers whose deaths would give him the power to begin his true journey. The journey that would lead to his rightful place in the history of the world; to his accession as the King of the Earth. Or ruler, or God, whatever he wasn’t choosy.

Herbert one of his trusted vampire henchmen, and my god what kind of name was Herbert for a vampire, waved at him. Richard acknowledged him and walked slightly down the hill toward him

"Any news," The Mayor asked as he neared the huge vamp. The vampire had originally been his ranch foreman before he was changed. Richard felt it necessary back then to build an army of the undead to protect himself from the Indians. The Shaman of the local tribe knew what he was and had tried to stop him more than once. All that had changed when the slayers had arrived—two pet slayers—he laughed again.

Herbert paused; "yes, they are on their way."

Richard looked at him, "How many did we lose this time?" He asked dreading the answer. He had to send his best on this mission, losing any of them would be a blow.

"Three." Herbert answered him.

"Well, darn." The mayor turned away, three of his oldest and most trusted. "Well, thank goodness, or, whatever, that our Slayer problem is about to be taken care of once and for all."

As if on clue the lights from the limo broke the darkness as it pulled up next to the ritual space. Richard watched the last of his original vampires exit the car and then open the back door for Faith. She slowly crawled out of the car with the other slayer cradled gently in her arms. The letter he had sent back with the girls specifically stated just how much of the poison the blonde slayer would need to become terribly sick but still be able cling to consciousness. Faith stalked up to the Mayor and Herbert, Richard could see murder in her eyes.

"What the Hell is this!" She shouted looking down at the shaking Slayer and then looking directly into Richard’s eyes. The small girl followed Faith’s gaze and looked at the mayor recognition flashing across her face. Richard had a hard time keeping his features solemn. All Buffy would remember of the next few days was Faith’s betrayal, by the time the tiny slayer let herself trust Faith again it would be too late. Richard was so giddy he almost laughed.

"Faith you knew the plan. You didn’t want me to overdose her and kill her?" He pleaded. He nodded to Herbert to take the girl from Faith’s arms. Herbert had a syringe full of the real drug—once he had Buffy out of Faith’s sight he was to shoot her up. It would keep her helpless and therefore insure Faith seeking his younger self ‘s help once she arrived. Or so that was how Richard remembered it.

Faith backed away from Herbert, her eyes darkening further into a murderous glaze—her body tensing in what the mayor knew was her battle mode. He reached out, trying to project the soothing warmth that always seemed to calm her. Since the girl had had no love, no physical contact growing up she couldn’t tell the difference between someone manipulating her emotions through magic and the real thing. Buffy groaned in her arms, apparently she could tell the difference, could feel the magical energies. Still, the other slayer wasn’t a threat at the moment, while they were on their own for the three days it took for the storms created by the gate opening, to clear, she would be, if he didn’t make sure otherwise.

Herbert took the blonde slayer out of Faith’s unresponsive arms gently and carried her into the ritual space while Richard continued enthrall the taller girl. Feeding her the love and peace her spirit so craved. He noticed Faith’s eyes become cloudy as she basked in the positive glow of his magic. He was so proud of himself figuring out that pain and fear would never work with this slayer, only love and warmth. Just because he was a dark magician didn’t mean he couldn’t use the light. "Control was control," he mumbled.

He felt Herbert’s hand on his shoulder indicating the other slayer, the real slayer, as he thought of her was taken care of—the drug administered. Still, he turned around to check her aura to be sure that the mystical compound was having the desired effect. When he was sure he released Faith from his thrall, reveling in how she stumbled as if she was shoved, nearly falling. When her eyes cleared she looked at him with such adoration he felt sick. To be able to use the light was one thing; to feel it pushed back into his face was another and it repulsed him.

"Alrightly then, " he turned expecting the slayer to follow him like a puppy and she did. "You two will go back, you know Edna May is going to be so happy to have two little girls." He turned to smile at her. "There will be a huge storm for a couple of days because of us forcing the fabric of time apart." He chuckled, "it reeks havoc with the weather."

He pointed to a cave hidden by some under growth; "you need to get you, your supplies and Buffy in there in under about five or so minutes." Richard stopped next to Buffy, she was lying on the ground within the circle he was going to use to send them back. He looked down at her; he used his sight to check out her aura again and was pleased by what he saw, by tomorrow morning Faith will think her near death. Faith, of course, will think he messed up and will be frantic, seeking his help out before the last of the storms end. And help he will; the little slayer’s system could have recovered from the poisoning within a week—but he will continue to feed it to her keeping her under his control for months. Stopping it in time for her to fight and injure the demon Balthazar. Too bad that in her weakened state she is killed. A hundred years of planning was paying off, he thought, in a few days his younger self would know everything.

The mayor paused, then pulled the envelope out of his coat pocket, it was magical and geared only to his touch and it contained all the information he would need to begin his destiny. "This will tell everyone at the ranch what is going on and how they are to treat you." But if anyone else opened it and read it then it looked like a simple letter of introduction. He tried to hand it to Faith but she was still out of it from the earlier spell, so he put it in her pocket

He shook her, "are you ready?" he asked. Richard knew there was no stopping him now…. After all everything had already happened.

Part 4

Willow followed Oz into the library. They were supposed to meet with Buffy at the Ice Cream Bar after her patrol with Faith. Willow really wanted to hear how Buffy’s "date" with Angel had gone. Willow had a hard time keeping up with her friend’s relationship with its on-again-off-again nature and tonight she wanted the "lo down." Oz, of course, drove Willow to the meeting place and then stayed while she waited. After an hour of waiting she called Mrs. Summers to see if Buffy had forgotten about the meeting, but no one answered the phone.

Then the storm started; seemly out of nowhere the wind started blowing and shortly there after the rain came. Not just a storm, a hurricane! Willow thought as she walked up to the table, looking for Giles. The lights were still on so he had to be around here somewhere, she thought to herself. Then her lights went out, the last thing she saw as a sweet smelling cloth was forced over her face was Oz lying unconscious on the floor by the doubles doors with an El Eliminati sword's man standing over him.

"My love should she not be awake by now." A deep masculine voice echoed through Willow’s head reeking havoc and causing her pain beyond her tolerance. She groaned softly as her stomach roiled and her head exploded into a starbursh.

"Oh, god, just kill me now!" She whispered clutching the sides of her head trying to keep her brains inside it.

Willow heard a gentle chuckle above her, the chuckle turning into the frail voice of an old woman, "dear sweet Willow, never could deal with physical pain." Willow tried to open her eyes but a small dry hand covered them and kept them closed.

"Willow, dear, keep your eyes closed for just a little while longer, until the drug is out of your system." The frail voice said above her. She felt a puff of air on her face as the voice continued in a stage whisper by her ear, "Oh and it’s not the best of ideas to tell a room full of vampires to kill you."

Willow’s eyes snapped open and she sat up expecting to see the hordes of the undead ready to rip her apart. Instead she had to clinch her mouth shut to keep the nausea at bay while she looked around the room, or as her vision cleared she found out she was in a warehouse. There were about 20 vamps wearing the uniform of the El Eliminati but they were doing decidedly unvamp like things, like openly smiling as if she were the brunt of a huge joke.

"Oh great Vamp humor, " she said under her breath continuing to scope out her situation. She could barely hear the raging storm through the warehouse walls.

"Not normal vamp humor," the woman’s voice said behind Willow causing her to turn around on the table she was sitting on. The witch’s mouth dropped open as she looked at what must have been the oldest person on the face of the planet. Yet, Willow noticed, the woman’s green eyes were clear and bright with intelligence.

"All these vamps were made from one American-Indian tribe: when they lived they were the original inhabitants of Sunnydale." The woman waved her arm in an expansive gesture to include the 20 odd vamps in the warehouse. The frail woman continued in a soft voice as if trying to put Willow at ease. The softness of the woman’s voice creating an extreme contrast to the shear power that radiated off her in waves.

"They believed that the creator put them here to guard the "hellmouth" which is really a vortex to other realities." The woman motioned for Willow to follow her over to what looked like a ritual working space. One Willow would have loved to create for herself.

"It’s so simple," Willow said in awe even as she noticed the runes and symbols of protection from her own studies. The red headed witch was wondering at her own reactions to the situation, here she was a prisoner to this old lady with her army of vamps and she wasn’t totally panicking or terrified. Then she remembered Oz and quickly glanced around.

"Yes," the woman continued speaking about her ritual circle ignoring Willow. "Most of the time simpler is the best way to go in dealing with magic." The woman turned to face Willow, and the Witch got the distinct impression the frail lady was measuring her.

"You may call me Crowley, no I do not practice his magical ways, the name was given to me." She explained, still holding Willow’s captive with her eyes. Crowley sighed and swayed as she turned away, immediately one of the vamps was at her side, towering protectively over her and supporting her with his massive arms.

"My love you must rest and conserve your strength," The vamp said in the same deep voice Willow remembered from earlier. And once again Willow’s mouth dropped open because the Vampire in question was most beautiful person, man or woman, she had ever seen. He had silky long black hair tied away from his face by a leather tong and his bronze skin seemed to glow with health and vigor. He was in every way a total contrast to the old woman he held so lovingly in his arms. Crowley’s silver hair and parchment like skin seemed stretched to tightly over her bones and she looked like a walking corpse. Which was strange because it was her lover who was the corpse, Willow thought to herself. But it was the way Crowley and the vamp were looking at each that should have given Willow the biggest case of the wiggins instead she marveled at the devotion that shone through as the two lovers were lost for a moment in each other. Crowley and the vampire looked exactly like Buffy and Angel—before Angelus. Then Willow knew: all these Vamps were not part of the demon Balthazar, army. They were El Eliminati, but they all had their souls and had chosen to follow Crowley.

"Wow," Willow whispered. "Why did you ensoul all these vampires?"

At Willow’s whispered question Crowley turned towards the witch with her eyes flashing green fire. "Because all their deaths were your fault—everything they loved and believed in and protected was nearly lost because your selfishness!" The old woman spat out in a rush and Willow could see a faint glow of light shining from the woman as her aura flared with anger.

Willow had to step back away from the woman and her words. And Willow knew that the woman before her was a Shaman, a very powerful deranged Shaman at that. Still, Willow felt a need to defend herself to Crowley. "How could I cause their deaths, they must have died sixty, seventy years ago…."

Crowley waved her hand to silence her, "exactly 100 years ago tomorrow."

The witch was even more confused and now getting very frightened, did the lunatic want some kind of revenge for Willow’s imaginary actions? She backed farther away from the Shaman her eyes glancing around the warehouse for an escape route.

Finally the vamp Crowley spoke. "Be still little tree, the Lady will explain, somewhat." For some reason Willow believed him. Crowley turned to her vampire lover and pulled his face down for a kiss. Again, Willow thought she should have been grossed out by what appeared to be a very old woman kissing a young man—but she wasn’t—she wondered if this was what Buffy and Angel would have looked like in eighty years if not for Angelus.

At last Crowley pulled away from her demon lover and approached Willow by the ritual space. The Shaman looked down at the circles of protection. "This is what I am going to use to help you make things right."

Willow looked at her confused. "What do you mean? How can I be responsible for something 100 years ago!" The frustration boiling over at the fact a lunatic held her prisoner.

The Shaman looked at Willow, her cold green eyes dismissing her. "We have been watching you ‘little tree’ you hold so much power within your hands, power that could have changed lives for good." The old lady paused, breathing deeply, and Willow was struck once again how fragile the woman looked. If you discounted the magical energies she held in her hands.

"Instead of welcoming the new slayer, you were driven mad over jealousy at the possibly of losing your friend." Crowley continued, her green eyes beginning glow. "You never once thought of what your best friend needed or wanted, only that you were threatened—"

"Faith is a psycho!" Willow shouted. Then added in a mumble, "she killed a man and then tried to kill Xander." The witches voice rising with each word. "I still don’t see why what this has to do with me. Why did you bring me here and where is Oz."

The beautiful vamp behind Crowley smiled; "Your Wolf is safe, little tree, and if you give your word to try and make amends he will released in the morning, unharmed." Again Willow believed the vamp.

"Enough of this, we are wasting time." The shaman interrupted. "You will go back exactly one hundred years and try to fix your mistakes with the other slayer." Willow started to shake her head no, but Crowley held up her hand to stop her protest. "I said enough, child!" The shaman shouted. "Because of your jealous actions the slayer Faith has become ensnared in Wilkin’s plot and has gone back. If you do not go find her—help her--then the timeline he remembers will become real."

The red headed Witch just stood there in shock, not really understanding all she was being told. Crowley continued, " if his reality becomes this one, all your friends will die horrible deaths and it will be all your fault." With a flare the shaman walked away from Willow to the center of the circle. Willow shook herself out of her shock and confusion: "Look this isn’t going to work. Faith hates me; she will never trust me. Wouldn’t it be better if we just left Faith there and then Buffy…." At the mention of Buffy’s name Crowley, the great Shaman, seemed to deflate in front of Willow. And Willow knew then that Faith had Buffy with her, a hundred years ago and if Faith was in with the mayor then something was terribly wrong with her best friend. Willow sighed, and knew she had to go back to past if for no other reason than to try and save Buffy—because that is what best friends did.

"Do you know how I’m going to get Faith to listen to me?" Willow asked, now trying to gain wisdom from the old woman.

"No, but I would suggest asking for forgiveness and if that doesn’t work try begging. Are you ready?"

"No…." But the storm that had been raging in the background suddenly grew in fury and loudness until Willow could only hear the booming thunder.

Part 5

Faith watched Buffy toss and turn in the sleeping bag on the floor of the cave. Sweat pouring off the blonde slayer’s face despite the damp coldness of the air. The rain blew into the mouth of the cave despite Faith’s efforts at using a tarp to block the entrance. With each gust of wind Faith could tell the temperature was dropping and soon the rain would change over to snow. She didn’t think Sunnydale could have snow and yet, she was about to be stuck in it for a second time.

"Faith, Faith, I’m so cold…." Buffy mumbled. Faith took the stones off of the camp stove and placed them under Buffy’s sleeping bag. She noticed that the sleeping bag was soaked, most likely from sweat but she knew as sick as Buffy had been it could be from something else. But whatever it was wet or dry the bag would still keep Buffy warmer than the blankets the mayor sent as back up to the two sleeping bags.

When they had first gotten here, to this time, Buffy seemed more alert. She even helped Faith by dragging some of the equipment up the hill and into the cave. The tiny blonde was slightly confused and disoriented but the explosive fever had gone down and she was breathing normally. Then about the time the storm hit, Buffy doubled over and started losing everything she had ever thought about eating. With the retching the fever and the labored breathing returned and now Faith was sitting in the cold cave watching her friend die.

The younger slayer sat back thinking; if she could get to the mayor’s house before the snow started then she could bring him back here to help her. She knew, even in this time period, he would help her save her friend. With the decision made Faith pulled Buffy and her sleeping bag closer to the stove and turned it to its highest setting. Faith was so grateful for the Boss’ foresight: he had supplied everything the two girls would need for the three days it would take for the storm to end. Faith wrapped herself in one of the many blankets. She looked at Buffy so helpless and delirious—despite her feeling that Buffy was beyond understanding—she kneeled down again next to her.

"Buffy, I need you to listen to me for a minute," Faith said, as she pulled her up into a sitting a position. Buffy’s chin dropped to her chest but she opened cloudy green eyes and peered up at Faith. The tiny slayer squinted trying to focus on Faith’s face.

"Faith?" She asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Yes!" Faith crushed Buffy to her in a hug. "Buffy listen, I have to go get help." The younger slayer explained.

"Giles? Go get Giles." Buffy begged. Faith felt a blow to her heart, no matter how much she tried she would never be a part of Buffy’s life as long the shadow of the those superfriends hung over everything.

"I can’t get Giles, but I will get help." Faith promised. "I have to leave for a while." When Buffy didn’t reply after a few seconds Faith laid her gently back down. She watched the steady, if some what congested, rise and fall of the blonde’s breathing for a moment and then purposefully stood up to leave.

Faith stalked out of the cave and was soaked by the rain after just three steps. The wind was relentless in its intent on driving the rain under the blanket and through her light jacket. Halfway down the hill she slipped in the mud and then slid the rest of the way landing hard. She lay there trying to catch her breath as the water from the ground finished the job the rain had started by soaking her clothes to the skin. By the time she was able to stand the rain and wind had leached all of the heat out of her body and she was shivering uncontrollably. Still, it was only a few miles to the bosses’ ranch so she decided to continue. Faith made it another couple of feet before she realized she didn’t have the compass with her. Like Buffy she could normally tell which way was north, the direction the boss said his ranch was, but she just couldn’t risk it. Faith knew instinctively she would have only one chance to make it to the ranch before the storm overcame her and that if she died in the storm then Buffy would die, too. With a frustrated sigh she started back up the muddy hill. Faith was literally exhausted as she reached the mouth of the cave—the climb up the hill taking every bit of energy she had.

The younger slayer decided to hang the muddy blanket on the tree just outside the entrance. "Let the rain clean it off." She told herself as she pushed back the tarp covering the opening—and came face to face with the biggest dog Faith had ever seen. "Well, fuck…." The slayer said without realizing it. Some part of Faith’s mind registered the fact that it wasn’t a dog, standing over Buffy, it was a wolf. A big wolf. A huge wolf. Bigger than the wolves at both the San Diego and Boston zoo’s combined. Standing over Buffy, repeated in her head and her body instantly reacted as she launched herself at the wolf.

The wolf seemingly as stunned to see the slayer, as Faith was to see it didn’t resist as the slayer tackled it. She grabbed it around the chest and rolled with it—knocking it easily off its feet despite its size. She hugged it to her until she was on her back and then she used both her feet and arms to propel it into the wall on the opposite side of the cave. The wolf let out a yelp and scrambled to its feet snarling and snapping in Faith’s direction as it backed towards the cave’s entrance, when he reached it, for by now Faith could tell it was most assuredly a he, he turned and dashed off into the storm.

Faith sunk to her knees as the shock of finding a wolf bending over Buffy wore off. She knew she had royally fucked totally up leaving the other slayer by herself and helpless. Tears of frustration made slow tracks down her muddy face as she thought of a life without Buffy in it and then guilt crashed into her mind when she thought of her betrayal. Faith sat there beyond conscious thought, some part of her was screaming at her to get up change out of her wet clothes that she was getting too cold—but the other part just didn’t care. The best thing in her life was lying across the cave from her dying because the other best thing to ever happen to her saw Buffy as a threat that needed to be dealt with.

Faith’s numbed mind registered thunder off in the distance. The old wives tale about thunder in the winter meant snow would surely come frittered slowly back and forth—bouncing from one side of her head to the other. Finally, a blast of thunder directly outside of the cave jerked her out of her spreading stupor.

"Oh, god Buffy!" She said and crawled on frozen hands and knees over to the other slayer to check on her. Much to the younger slayer’s relief Buffy was actually better, her flushed face still showing signs of a high fever, but her breathing was easier and she looked asleep, not unconscious. Faith tested her theory by trying to arouse her, "Buffy wake-up."

The tiny blonde opened bleary eyes blinking to clear them. "Faith? Tired…. Sleep…." She said as she rolled over on her side facing the bigger slayer, while tugging part of the wet sleeping bag over her shoulder. Faith lightly touched the little slayer’s face to make sure she was real and there and getting better. Buffy snaked a hot hand out to grab the other slayer’s cold one and pull it to her, "Cold, why so cold?" She asked Faith, with her eyes still closed. A muddy drop of water splashed onto Buffy’s face as Faith noticed she was still crying. She used her other hand, the free hand to wipe at her tears—letting Buffy hold the hand she had taken possession of just like the little slayer held Faith’s heart. After a few moments the grip on Faith’s hand lighten as Buffy drifted once more to sleep.

Faith glanced around the cave, the camp stove was blazing away and she knew there was enough propane for it last as long as they needed it. She stood on shaky legs, picked up the huge iron pot the mayor had insisted they bring. She put it on the stove and filled it water. Living in Boston had taught her to get out of the wet clothes or she would get sick. Since she was covered in mud she felt a need to be clean. And she thought, after a second or two of hesitation, that Buffy could use a bath and dry clothes too. The odor of sickness hung around the tiny slayer.

While, the water was heating, Faith dug out the rest of the blankets from the packs. Much to her surprised delight she, also, found a self-inflating air mattresses. She chuckled at how kind the Boss was to worry about her comfort. Buffy’s relapse had happened so fast that Faith had not thought, in her panic, to check out all of the supplies. She took stock of the cave they were in and she noticed that ceiling towards the back of the cave sloped downward as the walls narrowed, creating a smaller area that could be blocked off with the help of another tarp. It would be a prefect place to set up the mattress and to make a bed out of the extra blankets.

By the time Faith had finished making the little alcove into a full-fledged nest, the water was boiling. She had found a change of clothes for the both of them, though she was only going to dress Buffy in sweats. During all her preparations she kept one eye towards the front of the cave in case the wolf returned, she really didn’t expect him to, but she kept her cross bow close to her at all times. She didn’t want to test her luck at trying to wrestle the wolf bare handed, again.

She used a tee shirt to take the water off the stove then she hurriedly cleaned herself and got redressed. She steeled herself—she had always wanted to see Buffy naked—but never like this. In her dreams Buffy was awake and willing to play, not asleep and unaware. Faith carried the remaining water and a dry blanket over to Buffy and unzipped the sleeping bag. She quickly removed Buffy’s coat, blouse, and bra all the time wondering at her own reactions—Faith felt no desire towards the tiny girl at the moment. Sure she marveled at the girl’s perfection— spending longer than was absolutely necessary cleaning her arms and hands— soaking up the way they looked, memorizing the feel of Buffy’s skin; just not in a sexual way. Which really confused Faith, because she always thought of love as a sexual act, not this…this simple giving.

"It’s really helping that you are staying safely asleep…." The younger girl mumbled as she put the sweatshirt on the older slayer and started to remove her pants. "Always wanted to get into them…." The random thought entered Faith’s mind, and she realized she was rapidly sinking into exhaustion, she was moving on autopilot. When the pants were halfway down Buffy’s legs Faith noticed a mark on blonde’s inner thigh. "Shit, B drugs?" She thought as she bent down to examine the mark. Faith flashed to the way her mother would ‘shoot-up’ in that vein because "it wouldn’t show". The mark looked sort of like the way her mother’s would look when she got those awful infections from dirty needles—yet it didn’t look like it at all. One of the differences it wasn’t in the vein, it was still infected, the edges of what appeared to be the needle mark were black and the skin and muscle around it appeared to have a sunken quality—like something was eating away at Buffy’s thigh from the inside out. Distracted Faith continued to pull off the blonde slayer's pants, only realizing she had to remove Buffy’s shoes and socks when her pants wouldn’t come off. The wound reminded Faith of something familiar.

Perplexed, trying to remember why the sore looked so familiar if it wasn’t like her mother’s ‘tracks’, she washed Buffy’s legs. When she came to wound--being as gentle as she could she wiped the cloth across it. And was met with the most god-awful scream as Buffy sat straight up clutching at her leg in agony. Startled Faith jerked back only to lose her balance and land on her ass knocking the pot with the water in it over. She watched, still slightly stunned at Buffy’s reaction, as the older slayer slowly blinked down at her leg and then seemed to fold into herself as her tiny body was rocked with a wave of convulsive shuddering. Having seen this happen before, earlier, Faith knew what was coming next so she scramble over to catch the blonde and turn her head to the side just as the first of the retching crashed through little body. Faith could almost feel Buffy’s strength of spirit flowing out of her with each spasm until once again the tiny slayer was left weak and shivering in Faith’s arms.

The younger slayer placed Buffy on the dry blanket, still shaken by what just happened. Buffy was out of it again; it was like she never had been better. Only this time Faith could tell the wound in Buffy’s leg was causing all the little slayer’s problems. Faith bent down to examine the sore again and was shocked to see that it had opened up into a hole big enough to put her little finger all the way in it. And then Faith knew what it was—a demon bite. But, how did a demon bite Buffy on the leg and why didn’t Buffy report it to Giles? The taller slayer felt the skin around the hole and realized it was hot to touch, literally burning up, compared to the rest of Buffy’s body, which was hard to comprehend considering the fever Buffy was spiking at the moment.

Faith thought back to everything Kate, her Watcher taught her about demons and demon bites. The brunette fondly remembered their shared lessons on "the gory demon of the week." The watcher saw right away that Faith did not care for school so to make learning about demons more interesting Kate would let Faith pour through all the demonology books and watcher diaries for the goriest demons. After Faith chose one they would spend the entire week researching it. The memory of Kate’s death came unbidden to Faith’s mind and she tried to shut the emotions out that it caused—she had to think about Buffy. Yes, she told herself, think about Buffy not about Kate or how her mother had sold them out to Mr. Trick for the price of fix.

The more she looked at the sore the more familiar it appeared until it came to Faith what it was—"that's a what’s it demon bite" she said to herself. The one that would inject digestive fluid into its victim as it chewed. The drawing done by that monk-watcher person had been wicked gross—but the wounds looked exactly the same. Faith would have put it together sooner except Buffy’s leg wasn’t chewed on so the toxin, as Kate called it, had to have been injected. The younger slayer felt physically ill at the thought that the boss would do this, unnecessarily, to her friend. "Nah, it couldn’t have been him!" She said decisively. It must have been the big huge vamp who took Buffy away while she talked to the Mayor. All vamps hated slayers so this was his revenge for the boss befriending her. Man was that vamp toast when they got back!

But first she had to figure out what to do about the non-bite. Kate had said most demon toxins worked on a very real physical level and then on another magical one. For slayers, if you could take care of the physical then the innate slayerness or what ever would destroy the magical. The best situation would be to get the antidote, Faith was sure the mayor would help—but she couldn’t risk leaving Buffy again because of the Wolf. Kate had explained that without an antidote the next way was to use heat or burn the bite. Kate had made it very clear to Faith, fearing one day Faith would be bitten and she wouldn’t be there to help her, that it was better for a slayer to try and recover from a serve burn than the poison of demon.

With a heavy sigh Faith got up and plowed through the supplies again. She found what she was searching for—a thick metal tent stake. She placed one on the stove and then tidied up the cave as it heated. Taking both their clothes outside to put in the tree like the blanket. When she pushed the tarp covering the entrance back she noticed the snow had started and that about six inches already covered the ground. When she returned she checked on Buffy who, just like earlier, seemed to be delirious with a high fever and labored breathing…. Faith just hoped her friend was out of it enough.

Faith found another tee shirt and used it to take the stake off the stove—the irony that she was about to stake Buffy was not lost on the weary girl. The stake did not have to be red-hot only hot if she remembered Kate correctly. The brunette slayer wanted to be anywhere doing anything other than what she was doing but she did not shy away from the task. If this was what it would take to get Buffy back, this is what she would do. The young girl purposefully walked over to her friend and pulled the blanket she had wrapped her in away, kneeling down beside her she glanced up at the sick girl’s face to see if she was even aware that Faith was next to her. Doubt and guilt stilled her once again—was she doing the right thing? Or was she just causing Buffy more pain? Faith thought as she paused examining the wound; to her horror it appeared to be even bigger. Without hesitation she steadied the tiny slayer's leg with one hand and plunged the stake into the wound.

Buffy let out an animalistic scream and tried to jerk her leg away from the heat but Faith held her steady. The taller slayer let the stake stay in only for a few seconds then she pulled it out and bandaged the wound. Faith wrapped the now unconscious little slayer back up in the blanket and then carefully carried her over to the ‘nest’ she had made for them. After she settled Buffy in a cocoon of blankets the bigger girl grabbed her cross bow and lay down next to her pulling the sleeping girl closer. The younger slayer tried to stay awake so she could watch over her friend in case the wolf came back. But for the first time since her aborted attempt to get help she was warm, and the tiny slayer’s steady breathing under her hand was lulling; without realizing it Faith drifted off to sleep.