As the clock ticked away, signaling the rapidly approaching rising of the new moon only three short days away, Wesley checked his email in hopes that Buffy’s friend was able to locate the useful information that they had failed to find thus far. Scanning through the droves of useless mail, his hopes soared when he spotted the coveted message and quickly clicked on the link. Three times he read the through Andrew’s findings, each time silently praying that what was posted in front of his eyes was very much false information. Printing out the email, he jotted down the aforementioned titles that the half-breed used for research, Wesley grabbed his cell phone and called Rupert; insisting that he come over quickly.
Leaning back against the soft, worn leather of the antique armchair, Wesley removed his glasses and rubbed his weary eyes. His heart was heavy with grief and his body shook with barely contained rage as his mind wandered over the implications of Andrew’s email. If he was indeed correct with his information, the world as they knew it would never be the same after the ritual; win or lose, they would suffer a great loss.
Across town, Buffy stretched languidly as she awoke from a much needed mid-afternoon nap; fighting the good fight had brought on more changes than expected and she was struggling to adjust to the schedule of the Slayer and his cohorts. Glancing at the clock, it’s red digits glowing bright in the drape darkened room, she noted that Spike wouldn’t be back from his classes for at least another two hours and seriously considered rolling back over and sleeping until he returned. When she heard the shrill sound of the telephone and the tell tale sound of Rupert’s displeased voice that she was way too accustomed to, Buffy got out of bed and shrugged on a robe before tiptoeing out into the hallway for closer inspection. Since Rupert had returned and repeatedly announced his displeasure with her presence in the household, Buffy had taken to sneaking around and virtually hiding from her lover’s rather overbearing father.
Easing quietly down the stairs, careful to avoid the creaky step midway down, she listened in on the elder Giles’s conversation; pushing down the nauseating feeling of guilt that had snuck into her daily life. Extending her vampire senses, she discovered that the Watcher had received the much anticipated correspondence from Andrew and seemed rather upset by whatever her demon friend had discovered. Chewing on her bottom lip, she wondered how bad the findings were and was startled when the front door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the mirror in the foyer. Realizing that Rupert had left without saying goodbye, not that his rudeness surprised her at this point, Buffy sprinted up the stairs to the bedroom and made a beeline for the laptop perched on top of Spike’s dresser.
Pulling it onto the bed with her, she logged onto her email and located Andrew’s email; pleased as punch that he had followed her instructions to send one email to the Watcher and a separate one to her account. As she read through his email, Buffy’s eyes watered with sadness and despair as Andrew’s findings seeped into her mind. With the exception of the possibility of one piece of weaponry that could assist in defeating the bloodthirsty demon, there was still a very slim chance that it would work in averting the upcoming apocalypse. The images that her mind conjured as she reread the message were gruesome and she realized that the last vestige of optimism was slithering away with the hopes that the world would remain as it was.
Jumping from the bed, Buffy swiftly dressed in a pair of black jeans, a dark blue shirt and boots and clamored down the stairs with a look of determination plastered across her face. Checking to make sure the sky was still darkened with heavy rain clouds; she sprinted down the sidewalk and headed towards town in search of the one person who could possibly help ward off the upcoming danger…Faith.
Sitting in the middle of the sagging mattress in her room at the Sunnydale Motel, Faith Lehane mindlessly chewed on the already jagged ends of her fingernails and waited as patiently as possibly for Willow to return. After informing the red headed vampire that she had accidently leaked some potentially important information to the enemy, Faith had been ordered to stay inside the dingy motel room unless accompanied by Willow or one of her minions. Amazingly, the normally headstrong and temperamental brunette allowed for the Master Vampire to control her like a little child.
As the minutes on the clock slowly dragged by, her patience quickly ran out and Faith crawled off the bed in search of much needed food and possibly other forms of entertainment with or without permission from her so called keeper. Grabbing her chain wallet, she stuffed it in her back pocket at the same time she flung the door open and started to step outside; only to be pushed back inside the dank room by a pair of powerful hands.
“You can’t come in here!” She shouted indignantly as Buffy pushed her way into the motel room. “You weren’t invited.” Faith pouted like a petulant child as her former blonde lover shoved her back onto the threadbare comforter.
“Read the fine print next time, Faith.” Buffy replied smugly, crossing her arms over her chest as she stared down at her ex-girlfriend. “This isn’t your home, just a place Willow put you up in so that you were out of her hair. And that totally means that I can come in anytime I feel the need to; which won’t be too often since…eww…how can anyone sleep on that bed? Can we say washing machine? I’d hate to see what the bathroom looks like.”
“Did you come here just to insult my choice in living arrangements, B?” Faith asked, digging in her pocket for a cigarette as she glared at Buffy with hateful eyes. “Or did you actually have a purpose for this unwelcomed visit?”
Buffy grinned in spite of the situation, her mind flashing back to the time in her life that she shared with the spitfire in front of her. Shaking away the feeling of nostalgia, she got right to the point and asked softly, her voice laden with despair, “You realize that she’s not going to turn you, right? It’s a trick to get you to sacrifice yourself for her big Doomsday production. It has to be willing for the whole thing to work and Willow’s a master at promising whatever your heart desires so that she can bend you to her will.” Sinking down to her knees, Buffy timidly placed her hands on Faith’s thighs and pleaded to her with sad eyes. “Please don’t go through with this, Faith. You have no idea what she’s really got planned. It’s not going to go the way you hope and I truly don’t want to see you dead.”
TBC...