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CHAPTER 6: Leap of Faith, part 1


With shaky hands, Faith passed the dark cloak over her head. She stood in a dark corner, the orange glow of the torches not quite dissipating the shadows of her temporary refuge. It was the only place she had found where she could have a moment alone. She needed to calm down and think for a little while and was getting tired of all the commotion. She looked down at herself and snorted loudly, the sound reassuring to her ears.


“Donatella would so throw a fit if she saw they made horrors like this.” she mumbled to herself. “Why do evil people have such a terrible fashion sense?”


Faith didn’t like the way her voice sounded. Her bravado was not as convincing as usual.


She sat in the corner and lit up a cigarette with unstable fingers. This was the Faith she didn’t want anybody to see, and she needed to calm down to efficiently hide behind her usual defiant mask.


She pulled her dark hair out of the robe with a swift motion and extended her long legs. Her red leather pants peeked from underneath the cloak and she smiled to herself.


*See girlfriend? No need to be trippin’. Bad ass Faith’s armor is still on…. It’s just covered by some loser Hilton bathrobe dyed black. You’re still the shit.*


She tried to sound convinced. She really did. And almost managed it.


*I’m good. Better than good. Five by five. Maybe lung cancer later though* she thought, looking down at her third cigarette in ten minutes. But then she snickered.


*… Nope, none of that shit… immortal in a few hours. Well I guess the ordeal WILL have some definite perks after all.*


The brunette closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could fool a lot of people, but not herself. She used to be really good at it, but not anymore. Not for a very long time.


After Wolfman&Hart got her out of jail, she had tried to act up, the way a comedian puts on an old costume and gets back into his role. But no matter how hard she tried, she wasn’t the same anymore. Time passes, people change. For the best, for the worst. It all depends on what life throws at you. At one point, Faith thought she had more than enough shit thrown at her face to justify striking back and playing God. She wasn’t so sure anymore. Now she was trying not to think about it, but the thought snuck into her brain against her will.


*A shitload of folks will die after tonight…*


For some reason, the unstable girl got pissed off at that. She got up and crushed her cigarette viciously under her combat boot.


“Screw them all!”


She forced herself to remember all the reasons why she hated the world. Flashback of her father kicking the shit out of her drunk mother. The foster families making her feel like a piece of shit when she was a teen. Having to fight for her life in the street after her Watcher died. All the happy homes in Sunnydale while she had to eat mac and cheese in a cheap motel. People trying to kill her everyday in prison because it was such a challenge. Almost a sport. “Hey, who’s gonna manage to kill #88706!”. The world was a Hellhole. Why would she try to see the bright side when she had such a shitty background? The world wasn’t all about Christmas, and flowers and puppies. It was mainly about people killing each other for cold cash. It was about children being abused and young girls having to sell their bodies to survive. Good guys only won in movies. In real life, the bad guys were the only ones leaving the stage on both their legs. And as much as Faith despised the world, life was her crack: she hated it, but couldn’t turn her back on it either. Immortality and power were so appealing…


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The five of them were standing by the car, on a dark road in the woods behind Sunnydale High.


Xander looked at the others, then down at himself and sighed.


“So… how would our beloved leader put this? ‘I look like a bleedin pounce in that sodding poofter robe’… or something like that.”


Spike snorted at Xander’s lame imitation. “You have to learn to dose, you wanker. It’s an art. But since you described the situation accurately, I won’t criticize your use of British slang.”


“Anybody else feels evil butterflies flying around in their stomach?” asked Willow, so pale she looked like she might pass out any minute.


They all cast worried glances at the young witch. Most of the operation depended on her and, despite what they told her, they weren’t sure she could handle that much magic. Spike wasn’t worried she’d go back to evil Willow, but they were asking of her and she hadn’t been back in the game all that long. She’d put a protection spell around Buffy’s room to keep evil at bay.


Magic would also be used to cloud the signals to Spike’s chip so he could fight humans if necessary. There were too many enemies, humans as well as demons, to risk sending Spike into a fight with the chip working. Willow knew Buffy would never forgive her if something happened to the blond vampire.


And no matter what Willow said, Spike could see in her eyes that she would attempt the restoration spell on Angelus if she got the chance. He hadn’t said anything to her about it yet, but he would have to bring it up soon. If she over estimated herself it could screw up their chances, all for Angel’s sake. The wanker didn’t deserve that much.


The blond vampire pulled a Marlboro out of his pack and lit it. He took Willow’s hand, gave her a reassuring squeeze, and pulled her aside. The girl looked so frail, like she would break anytime; it was hard to believe there was such power in her. But he’d already learnt with Buffy, the size of the package was no indication of the power it held.


“Red, I want to know, for sure, that you’re gonna be alright. Now, don’t go thinking I don’t trust you. I do. But it’s a lot to put on your shoulders and I don’t want you to be in any danger. If you think you can’t do it, I’d rather you tell me now so we can rethink the whole thing. Or maybe you could skip the chip spell…”


“Spike…”


“I’ll just be careful…”


“Spike.”


“If I stay away from human beings, I’ll be fine…”


“Spike!”


“What?”


“I’ll. Be. Fine. I’ve done a lot of thinking the past few months, and I’m more familiar with the extent of my powers, and my limits. I will play my part, and I will play it well.”


She gave him the resolve face, her eyebrows shooting up in a comical way, and he didn’t have the heart to argue. When she saw him give up, her face brightened. “Ok then! Chip spell time!”


She closed her eyes and concentrated, whispering incomprehensible words. She brought her hands up a few inches apart and blue sparks of energy flew between her palms.


Spike groaned, looking worried. “Hey now, better not fry my bloody brain, ducks, or you’ll never hear the end of it, I promise.”


His whining didn’t receive an answer. Instead, Willow touched her fingers to the sides of his head. He shut his eyes, anticipating the pain, but nothing came. He carefully opened his eyes again.


“Did it work?”


Willow smiled up at him and extended her arm. “Find out. Go ahead, pinch me.”


He did, but the only sound of pain was Willow’s heartfelt “Ow!”..


“Did you really have to bruise me, you evil you?”


“Sorry.” The self-satisfied smirk on Spike’s face told her he didn’t quite mean that. “Right then. On to spell number three.” They walked back to where the scoobies were waiting. Xander and Giles were sitting on the hood of the car while Anya drew the protection circle on the road.


Willow cracked her knuckles and rubbed her hands together, wiggling her eyebrows playfully. “You guys ready to get your brains fried?”


Giles gave her a look. “I can’t say that I’m quite enjoying your sense of humor tonight, Willow.”


“Oh come on!”


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“Don’t you think this is getting long?” Buffy asked, not looking up from the cards she was holding.


She was answered by simultaneous sighs. She looked up but quickly went back to her cards when she saw Cordelia and Dawn’s annoyed look.


Cordelia snorted. “It’s been TWENTY minutes Buffy. It’s not even midnight yet. Give them a chance.”


The three girls whipped their heads around towards the doorway when they heard a few low curses. A tall, dark haired, nurse in white uniform and squeaky shoes was standing there. She tried taking another step into the room, unsuccessfully. They watched as a confused look passed through her normally cold, unfeeling eyes, then she walked away shaking her head.


“Oh well, who would have known… Spike was right. She really is Satan’s daughter.” Buffy said, putting down a royal flush. “Pay up!”


“What? That’s not fair!” Dawn whined. “And when did you learn how to play Poker anyway?”


“Last year. When I was secretly dating Spike.”


Dawn and Cordelia kept looking at her in silence.


“What? You thought getting pelvic was our only activity? We played Poker too… once or twice. He taught me well.”


“Yeah, you mean he taught you how to cheat.” Dawn pouted.


“Pfff.” Buffy made a dramatic gesture, collecting the other girls pennies. “Semantics.”


She tilted her head, discretely looking at Cordelia’s watch. Cordelia noticed and growled at her before removing her watch and shoving it in her jeans pocket.


“It’s been twenty-TWO minutes Buffy! Quit it already!.. Gee, psycho much?”


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A/N: I give you the chapter, you give me the reviews. It's only fair, no? lol Come on guys, tell me what you think. I want to hear from you!





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