Chapter Text
Buffy was having trouble concentrating on the magical and strategic details being discussed, for two reasons. The first reason was that she was just feeling so happy.
“We’ve made a big breakthrough with Amy,” Willow was explaining to her and Xander, “from studying the Codex Hecatorum, the grimoire we found at her house.” Kendra and Jenny, standing behind Willow, both presumably knew all this already: the three of them had figured it out together. Giles, standing at the opposite side of the library table, was listening attentively but saying nothing.
“And we think we know why we could never turn her back into a human before: she’s favoured by Hecate.” Buffy was struck by how cute Willow was when she was explaining something she was excited about. Of course, the most important thing was that Willow was alive, and safe, not dead or a vampire. Not something she would have to kill with her own hands, the way it had seemed for that devastating hour last week. And, more than that: she seemed happy, not resentful about Faith or frustrated about her lack of progress or anxious about how people viewed her. Her friend was thriving and alive and safe, and that made Buffy happy. But also Willow was, undeniably, cute.
“But, we found a way around it. So we think we can finally overcome the blockage and reverse the transformation.” Every now and again, though, while staring at Willow, Buffy found herself flashing back to that night a week ago, when she looked so different. The image of Willow in tight, revealing, black leather was hard to process, but she couldn’t get it out of her mind. Even though she was beginning to lose track of which memories were the vampire, dressed like that voluntarily, which were Willow dressed that way to impersonate the vampire, and which were Willow afterwards, still dressed like that, gently but firmly interrogating the bound vampire. Who was now tied up in Willow’s bedroom. Picturing it was… hard to process.
“But! It requires something super gross.” She turned to look at Kendra. “Tell them what it requires.”
Kendra smiled. “It requires the preserved eyeball of a murderer buried at a crossroads.” Buffy recoiled; beside her she saw Xander also cringe, either pretending to gag or on the edge of actually doing so. She was surprised that Willow wasn’t grossed out as well, but recently she seemed less and less squeamish. It might be from spending so much time with a robot and a vampire; it might be an instance, as Xander liked to joke, of ‘the leather corset talking’. Although of course Willow hadn’t worn her vampire Doppelganger’s outfit since that one time. As far as she knew… but then, what was the vampire wearing? Was she naked?
“And… how does one get one of those?” Xander asked worriedly. Buffy realised with a start that by picturing the vampire version of Willow naked and tied up she was also, in effect, picturing her friend Willow, naked and tied up and helpless in her bedroom. Which was inappropriate! She was going to stop thinking about that right now.
“The internet.” Jenny cut in. She wasn't wearing her mask today, having opted instead for a more feminine look: a long black dress, with a white cardigan and black gloves. Two shawls, one black and one white, were wrapped artfully around her head and neck, covering everything but her eyes. A large pair of dark glasses completed the coverage. The focus on black and white was still there: Willow had mentioned that it was partly because her eyes apparently didn't pick up colour well, at least by human standards. And partly because she liked Magpies.
“Almost anything you want, you can find someone online selling it, if you know how to look. We should get the eyeball in the mail tomorrow.” Buffy reflected on how great it was that Jenny was alive too. Different and strange, in various ways, but seemingly doing fine for herself. She could still remember having to swallow her own grief when Jenny had died, to go and rescue Giles from his suicide-revenge mission. But now she was back with them, and that also made Buffy happy
“Speaking of people on the internet,” Giles broke in, “while I am loathe to assign any more credit than necessary to that godawful contraption, I believe the reason this meeting was called was that you said you had found someone in your online world who could tell us about the mayor. Should we get to that topic at some point?”
“Hey, you’re the one who said we should wait for Wesley.” Jenny pointed out. Buffy tried not to think about the fact that apparently Jenny was also sexually active, tying Kendra up every night in order to… do things to her. The mechanics of it all still confused her, though not for lack of thinking about them. It was incredible to think that despite the curse Kendra shared with Angel, she could keep her soul through the greatest pleasure as long as it was combined with pain.
“Well, yes, but…” Giles trailed off indecisively.
“I just thought,” Willow was insisting, “that I should let you guys know Amy would be back in school, because she might need help with, you know, re-integrating and catching up, and stuff.”
“Thanks Will, I’ll prepare to be in full-on friend mode.” Buffy smiled, trying to drive from her mind all images of her friends tied up and naked. “But yeah, we can probably start without Wesley.” They should get to business. It would help get her mind out of the gutter.
“Sure!” Willow agreed and started to bring up some sort of files on a lightweight computer that Jenny had brought with them.
“I don’t really know why we had to invite him anyway.” Jenny didn’t seem to want to let this go. “We were doing fine before he arrived, and then he turns up and immediately hands Balthazar his amulet, and then shoots two of us.”
Buffy found herself nodding emphatically. “Yeah! And we did fine without involving him when we had to deal with, uh,” she glanced at Willow questioningly, “Millarca?”
“Carmilla.” Willow corrected, smiling appreciatively at the attempt to use the new name the Doppelgänger had chosen. Some sort of literary reference, she recalled. It seemed very Willow.
“Right, Carmilla.” The timeline that Carmilla remembered was fascinating to Buffy, and she tried to tell herself it wasn’t just because it seemed to be one where her absence from Sunnydale had made everything collapse. It was grim to hear about, but more than a little validating. It made her happy.
“Look, Wesley may not always make the best decisions,” Giles was trying to play devil’s advocate, “and he may be insufferably pompous, and he may have an entirely unwarranted sense of his own importance, but, well, he…” he trailed off, apparently losing his train of thought.
“It’s odd, I can’t think of anyone else I know who fits that description.” Even Jenny making fun of Giles felt comforting to Buffy.
“Sorry I’m late!” But now Wesley was arriving, finally. “And thank you so much for waiting, I suppose,” he continued, in a tone that felt neither actually apologetic nor actually grateful, “given that you seemed happy to proceed without me last time…”
“That time was urgent,” Jenny said brightly, “tonight we can afford to waste our time, so we called you.” Buffy smiled.
Wesley pursed his lips as he sat down at a seat beside Giles, opposite Willow. “Thank you. Well, if anybody wants my opinion, had I been consulted, I would have certainly been against the proposal to hold a dangerous vampire captive in Miss Rosenberg’s bedroom!”
“Thanks,” Jenny cocked her head, “I’ll make sure to pass that on if anybody turns out to want your opinion.”
“Well now that we’re all here,” Giles cut in, to forestall further barbs, “shall we, at long last, actually get to the point?” Willow nodded and jumped in to fill the silence.
“Uh, ok, so, it actually all starts with things I learnt from Carmilla. So, last summer, in her timeline, Balthazar’s minions showed up in Sunnydale, just like they did here last month.” Buffy found herself looking at Kendra, standing so elegantly in her usual pose, utterly motionless, hands behind her back, not even the small movements of breathing or heartbeat or shifting on tired muscles. But smiling her sassy little smile at times.
“And it turns out that both times, it was Allan Finch who invited them. It’s just in that other timeline, he turned on the mayor sooner, I guess because of the whole ‘power-sharing with the Master’ thing. But then it didn’t get anywhere, for kinda that same reason.” Buffy felt her attention drifting again. She kept returning to the fact that Kendra, too, was alive and happy, because that fact made her so happy she felt warm all over. A few days ago she had remembered saying "remind me to get you a stuffed animal", and had gone out and bought a toy pig to match Mr. Gordo. Kendra had seemed appreciative, albeit unsure what to do with it. Prompted to come up with a name, she had struggled, and eventually landed on “Mrs. Gordo.” So now they had two pigs who were married. Buffy wasn’t sure if Kendra actually slept with Mrs. Gordo in her coffin though.
“Apparently it was a massacre, Luke killed Balthazar in single combat, and in the aftermath Carmilla was assigned to do, well, basically what Jenny and I have been doing: following the digital paper-trail.” She remembered seeing Kendra's dead body: it was an image that had haunted her for almost a year, snuck up to accuse her sometimes when she was trying to sleep. But now it was just a memory, and the images of Kendra that swam up when she was trying to sleep were quite different: attempts to picture the strange and complicated sex life that she had recently learnt Kendra was enjoying.
“And, uh, she found that Finch had gotten scared about the mayor’s plans after talking to someone online called, uh… hornygoat666.” She paused for the stifled laugh that Xander tried to disguise as a cough, then proceeded. Buffy found the thought of what Kendra went through a little terrifying in its implications, and she still hadn’t talked about it with her directly.
“And as it happens, that’s someone Jenny actually knows in the real world, through, uh, web forums. Called, uh, Skyler. And when we emailed him, he said he only wanted to talk about it in person or on the phone. But the number he gave us was in Allan Finch’s contacts.” But it was often on Buffy’s mind: how much pain did Kendra need to be in? How important were the restraints that, supposedly, she always wore during the act?
“So you think this ‘Skyler’ was involved in Finch’s defection in the real world as well?” Giles asked. “What, um, what sort of person is he?” What might Kendra look like, naked and restrained and snarling with pain and pleasure?
“He’s a self-interested sleazebag.” Jenny offered helpfully. Buffy realised guiltily that she was, once again, imagining one of her friends naked. Bad! You’re as bad as Xander!
“Yeah, so we figured,” Willow picked up, “if we were going to call him, we should do it when we have everyone here together…”
At that moment the library doors opened, Faith breezed in, and Buffy’s heart leapt.
“What’s happening, party people?”
Buffy was already on her feet, smiling despite herself. "Council has you back on active duty?" It felt like the final confirmation: everything was going to be ok. Her friends were alive, and safe, and she hadn’t failed any of them.
"Finally. They want me to get back into the action." Faith smiled back at her: she looked happy, looked good, looked enticingly beautiful in her denim jacket and low-cut top. Didn’t look haunted and crushed by guilt or anger or denial any more. Just happy and free, like she used to.
“That’s great!” She realised the others were watching the two of them grin at each other stupidly. She went to sit back down, touching Faith’s elbow lightly to guide her to the waiting seat.
“Hey Willow,” There was an edge of nervousness behind the confidence in Faith’s voice. “Glad you’re ok after that vampire-twin business, sounded nasty.” As the excitement of seeing Faith faded, Buffy began to worry. Was she really as happy and free as she had first seemed? Or was there something in the background there?
“Thanks Faith. I am indeed ok, despite being violently attacked.” Willow’s voice was definitely not happy. “So is Xander.” Buffy realised, as she went to her seat, that Xander had taken it, moving closer to Willow so that he wouldn’t have to sit beside Faith, who he was resolutely not looking at.
“Right.” Faith’s smile was gone but she didn’t say any more, just sat down quietly, leaving Buffy the empty chair between her and Xander. Buffy sat down, trying to read her expression. When looking at the others, Faith seemed her usual self: too cool to care what anyone else said. But when she looked at Buffy there was sometimes just a moment of terrified vulnerability in her eyes, like she needed something she couldn’t name and only Buffy could give it to her. She remembered that look from the day after she had… done that stuff with Faith that nobody knew about. She wished she knew how to give her the nameless thing.
But nobody else saw it, so she didn’t know what to say. Xander wouldn’t look at her, and Willow’s eyes were reproachful. She opened her mouth hoping words would occur to her, but they didn’t.
“Well, shall we be pressing on then?” Wesley seemed oblivious to the tension in the room. But maybe getting down to business would be good, she thought…
“No,” Kendra interrupted, “Faith must apologise to Xander.” Even Wesley could sense the tension now.
“Yeah, she should!” Willow was nodding; Giles and Jenny and Xander himself were silent. Faith looked fine, except like there was maybe a crack spreading down the middle of ‘fine’ and there might not be anything behind it. She had to fix this.
“Faith…” she tried to speak her name as softly as she could, and let her hand touch Faith’s under the table, just lightly. Faith’s mouth tightened, like she was swallowing something bitter, but she let her hand touch Buffy’s back.
“Ok.” She turned to Xander, clearly unsure how to proceed. “I’m… sorry. Xander.” She glanced at Buffy, who nodded encouragingly. “For, uh, doing…” another glance, another nod. “That.” No specificity, but perhaps that was for the best. Going into details might be too painful. “Sorry.” Almost a shrug, as if by reflex, then suppressed.
Xander seemed just as awkward as Faith. Slowly, he looked up, and seemingly with great effort managed to look her in the face. Then he nodded, quickly, and glanced away again. Probably the most they could expect.
For a few seconds nobody said anything. Then Wesley cleared his throat. “Ahem. So, shall we contact this, um, contact of yours, Miss Magpie?”
And then the energy flowed away from Faith and Xander, and Buffy felt like she could breathe again. Everything was going to be ok. It hadn’t been the best apology in history, but this hadn’t been the best time and place to request it. But it was progress. Her friends were alive, and safe, and ok. The full-body warmth was back.
Jenny pressed a button on the computer and electronic noises came out; then, after a few seconds, a voice.
“Hello?”
“Is that Skyler?”
“Depends. Who’s asking?” The voice on the other end had a slightly surprising accent, maybe from the East Coast? But it sounded basically human, at least.
“This is the Magpie.”
“Oh! Hey Magpie, good to know you’re still alive, you went dark for a good while there. What’s been happening?” Buffy’s mind was wandering again. She looked over at Faith, who looked back and flashed her that wicked smile that said I see you, bad girl. She almost blushed, reflecting that it was good Faith couldn’t tell what she had been thinking about before she arrived.
“You know, this and that. Had to deal with some problems in meatspace, but I’m back online now. And I wanted to ask you something.” Buffy knew that it was going to take some time to mend everything, with Faith, with Xander, with all of them. But they would get there.
“Sure, anything for a pal, haha. Shoot.”
“Why was Allan Finch talking to you right before he died?”
Faith’s smile vanished. There was a long silence on the line. Buffy reached out her hand again, this time to put it actually on Faith’s, grip it. She needed to know that Buffy was there for her.
“See, that kinda question, it really depends. Not just who’s asking, but why, and who else is involved.”
“Understandable. I can tell you I’m here with the slayers, and their team.” Buffy smiled a little, despite herself. ‘The Slayers.’ She liked that phrase. She remembered Faith telling a cop it was the name of the ‘Girl Gang’ they were in...
“Oh! The slayers, hmmm. Can you put them on?”
Jenny slid the laptop to sit in front of Buffy, and motioned for her to speak.
“Um, hi. Buffy Summers, vampire slayer.”
“Uh-huh, uh-huh, yeah I’m very familiar with your work. Hope you can understand the caution of wanting to hear from the horse’s mouth, so to speak! The Magpie’s great but uh, well in our circles you learn never to make assumptions about who’s working for who, you know?”
“Ok, well,” Buffy felt like she should have been paying more attention; it would have been nice to know she was suddenly going to be thrust back into leadership. “We, uh, we want to get a handle on the mayor’s plans.”
“As well you might, as well you might! But guess what, it turns out you’re in luck. How would you like to get your hands on the Books of Ascension?”
“Which are…?” She glanced around, hoping the others hadn’t been explaining this while she had been distracted.
“Books of Ascension! Very powerful works and I'm not talking about the prose. They deal with some, ah, dark stuff. And the Mayor would hate for somebody to get ahold of them before he, ah, well you know.”
“…Before he what?”
“Hey, hey, read ‘em and weep. That's all I got to say. Tomorrow, I get the books. Meet me at my usual spot at 8 and if the price is right, well I give the books to you. Tell you the truth, I was thinking of tracking you down anyway, figured you’d be an eager buyer for these babies. Just, wasn’t sure if, uh… well, has our friend the Magpie mentioned that I’m not exactly of the human persuasion?”
Buffy blinked and looked at Jenny in confusion. “He means he’s a demon.”
“Oh… I don’t, I mean, usually I’m not really looking to trade with a demon.”
“Well usually, I’d be happy to give you and the rest of the slayer team a wide berth for exactly that reason. But right now I’m in urgent need of some fast money, so I’m willing to take a risk, get within slaying range.”
“Money? Why do you need, ah, money?” Giles asked a little incredulously. Buffy gratefully pushed the laptop over towards him.
“Oh, haha, is that the watcher? Magpie told me there was an insufferable guy with a British accent…” Giles frowned. Wesley leant forward.
“Actually, he’s the ex-watcher, I am the slayers’ current watcher.” Buffy looked at Faith again, sharing a sneaky smile. The watchers were funny when they were petty.
“Well judging by the accent and demeanour you’ll be a seamless follow-up, haha. But yeah, I want cash, princess, five large for the whole set.”
“What do you suddenly need money for?” Wesley asked suspiciously. Buffy didn’t really care. She caught herself staring down Faith’s top, and looked away sharply. You’re even worse than Xander! But it was fun, to be a little bad, now that she didn’t need to save anyone from death or a crippling personal crisis.
“Plane ticket. Out of the Hellmouth before it’s adios, macaco ingles. So, five G's, what do you say?” It wasn’t like she had to imagine what Faith looked like naked. She knew perfectly well. She had seen it. And then remembered it, and had dreams about it...
“And these books,” Wesley asked, “these are what you showed Allan Finch?”
“No way, these are better. I just gave Finch the rough gist of it, then he went and did something stupid and got whacked by the mayor for his troubles.” That prompted some awkward looks around the table. So that was what the underworld had assumed. Buffy gripped Faith’s hand again and squeezed it tighter than before, but Faith’s eyes remained distant.
“Anyway,” Skyler continued, “the books tell you everything you need to know about the how, when, why, and what the fuck. But I ain’t saying no more for free. Do we got a deal or not?”
“We have a deal.” Jenny affirmed. “5 grand tomorrow at your usual spot, 8pm.”
“Great! Pleasure doing business again Magpie! Oh and sorry again about the horn rash!”
There was a click and the call ended. Giles immediately began grousing. “Demons after money. Whatever happened to the still beating heart of a virgin? No one has any standards anymore. And… what was that about horn rash?”
“Skyler has horns.” Jenny clicked the laptop closed. “Turns out I’m mildly allergic.”
“Allergic to demon horns?” Xander looked confused, “How do you even find that sort of thing out?” Jenny’s cowled face turned in Giles’s direction, then away.
“Wait,” Faith looked absolutely thrilled as realisation dawned, “did you and this demon… get nasty?” Buffy hated the way Faith talked about sex. ‘Get nasty’. So vulgar. And yet, there was something fun about it. It did something to her. She shifted uncomfortably and crossed her legs, trying not to smile.
“That’s not important right now. What’s important is these books, and this ‘Ascension’ that the mayor doesn’t want us to know about.” Get nasty. She remembered Faith on top of her, sweaty, fierce, naked, hungry. Muscles quivering with exertion, breasts and breath both shaking, grinding her down into the bed until it broke.
“…is he evil?” Xander seemed concerned. Giles seemed flustered well beyond the point of concern. She wondered if the bed had been fixed by now. Maybe she should visit Faith’s apartment… no, that would be too much. It had been fun, maybe, but it couldn’t happen again.
“I already told you, he’s a self-interested sleazebag. ” Buffy resolved to stop remembering Faith naked, no matter how amazing she had looked that night. That was in the past. “Honestly, pretty similar to most of the men I’ve dated.” That got a start from Giles, and some intensely pursed lips. “With one exception, I suppose…” Buffy got the feeling Jenny had enjoyed dragging out the pause before saying that.
Wesley glanced around the faces in the room, clearly sensing something had been communicated. “I rather fear I’m missing out on some sub-text here…”
“It doesn’t matter.” Giles and Jenny both said in unison, before he could even ask.
Poor Giles. She had been worried about him too, when Willow had first told her that the Magpie was Jenny Calendar, back from the dead (in a robot). Worried he might not be able to take it. And it was clear that he wasn’t loving it; they certainly didn’t get on as well now as before her death. Or at least, the snarky fighting was back, but not yet any of the more overt flirting. But he seemed to be coping, and she believed in him. Everyone was ok. Everything was going to be ok.
There was just one issue left: Angel. He still didn’t know about her night with Faith. But now that everyone was safe, and nothing was on fire, she could talk to him. Spend some time together. Get past the distance that had grown up between them. Connect, so they could work through this. Everything was going to be ok.
Suddenly she remembered the time. “Well, sounds like the three of us have our mission for tomorrow night. Meet the demon, acquire the books, don’t touch the horns.” She stood up. “But for tonight, my mission is to see a movie with Angel, and it starts soon.”
“Awwww!” Willow smiled broadly at the mention of Angel; something told Buffy not to look at Faith’s reaction. “What’s the movie?”
“Le Banquet D'Amelia,” she pronounced proudly, “it’s French, so you know it’s got to be fancy.” The others looked her blankly, except Willow, who looked suddenly concerned, and Faith, who grinned.
“Check out the lust bunnies.”
“What do you mean?” She didn’t understand these reactions.
“Gotta tell you, B.” Faith was leaning back in her chair, “The willpower thing, nice job… the close but no cigar thing with Angel. I don't know if I could handle, you know, the way you're not handling it.” There was something in her voice that pushed past teasing now, edging into cruel. Or angry.
“Faith, it’s nothing like that. We’re just watching a movie, I don’t see the big deal.” Faith raised her eyebrows but said nothing. Buffy was annoyed. Unprompted, her mind replayed the memory of Faith on top of her, grinding on her, but now with this anger in her eyes. And with Buffy’s hand around her throat. She pushed the image away. God, you really are worse than Xander…
“Uh, Buffy,” Willow still looked concerned. “I think that particular movie is, well I hear that it’s very… artistic. Very, um, bold aesthetic choices were made.” Does she think I can’t follow a French movie?
“Uh-huh. Ok, well,” she started for the door, “Kendra, Faith, I can meet up with you in a couple hours for patrol.” It didn’t really matter if she could follow the movie. It was just an excuse for some relaxed bonding time with Angel. They’d talk things out and everything would be ok.
As she left the library, Buffy realised she hadn’t absorbed much of the strategic significance of their discussion. She wasn’t too worried about it: she was just having trouble concentrating today, for two reasons. One was how happy she felt: all her friends seemed, finally, alive and ok. And the other was that, she had to admit, she might be feeling a little horny.