It was...very, very odd to have Slayers coming at me every time I turned around. One girl in all the world...then two...now God only knew how many. It would take a lot of getting used to. But at least I had a small room to myself. Couches were fine, but with so many teenagers - Slayers - around, there was a large risk of seriously disturbing at least one of them with my nightmares.
I did have better fitting clothes, at least, though the made my lack of weight rather obvious. Couldn't have everything. I hadn't taken EB up on her offer, in the end. I'd simply used the Council's money and had absolutely no qualms about it. But it was hard to see EB around, and even harder to see Faith
( ... )
Pubs. They were the same pretty much everywhere on earth. There wasn’t much difference between the Americans or the British ones. Except for the beer, they had real beer here. Not that it mattered to me, I stuck to my whiskey. They were the same dingy smoke filled far to small dark places where people came to bemoan their sorrows
( ... )
"Depends on who wants to know." Which made sense, actually. Especially when I was looking at a man far removed from the Wyndam-Pryce I'd seen so long ago. I took the seat in front of him and knocked the rest of my drink back.
"First," I said. "Let's just say it's good that you are already sitting down..." I poured myself another glass from the bottle I'd gotten and took a sip. Good stuff. I licked my lips and took a deep breath.
"As to who wants to know...that would be Dian Ramsey." There. Bomb dropped. Ball in his court and all that. In the meantime, I took another drink. Or two.
It's good thing I'm sitting down? Why? And where does she come of pouring herself a drink from *my* bottle? Do I look like the salvation army? The way she stood there and the way she said 'it's a good thing you're sitting down' was almost as though she was expecting me to be what...? Falling down
( ... )
Well, that wasn't the response I'd expected, but the difference was refreshing. Then I realized that I'd poured myself a drink from his bottle instead of mine. "Ah. Sorry about stealing your drink. Feel free to help yourself to my bottle when you need a refill."
I glanced around at the rest of the pub for a moment. So many people. Like the estate, only not so full of teenage girls. A relief, that. I took another drink and glanced back at him.
"Your apathy is actually refreshing," I said. I'd been a completely different sort than he had been back then. Not surprising I didn't ring a bloody gong.
"Used to be a Watcher. Not that means much at the moment." I shrugged, looking out at the rest of the patrons again.
Glancing at the bottle, mine, I shrugged again. My ribs reminded me that wasn't gesture I should be attempting to much yet. Faith, I reminded myself as I flexed my still swollen jaw, certainly could pack a punch. Then again, she is a Slayer, wasn't the first time she'd done that to me. Wasn't nearly as bad as the last time
( ... )
"Not terribly soon, if I do. I'm not really in any condition to do much of anything for them except take up space and drink any liquor they have lying about." I took another drink and continued. "I am living at that estate of theirs at the moment, though. Needed to get out - place is crawling with teenage girls. One at a time, I could deal with. Swarms...calls for extra alcohol until I get used to it."
I tapped a finger on the rim of my glass and thought about the other question. "Probably could have got myself fired, if I'd had long enough. Travers was a royal fuck-up and I'd have called him on it eventually." I took another drink.
"Instead, I had a rather nasty run in with a vampire. Nasty here meaning very unpleasant way of dying..."
She's actually thinking of returning to that? Well, she can't have been that bad. In fact if she had been that bad, I'd have heard of her. It's not as though I've not seen look on the faces of the older watchers still around. I'm not a fool. I'm aware they're not thinking 'my goodness, Wyndam-Pryce is alive? Roger must be so thrilled'. No, it would be more along the lines of 'Bugger, I thought he was dead
( ... )
Oh. He'd been dead too, then. Must have thought he was a demon, perhaps, to put him in a cell. "Damn, I've got a lot of catching up to do as far as events go...nearly panicked when I met a new Slayer..." I poured myself another drink, but was content enough for the moment just to look at it.
"And as much as I might have expected to end up in hell...I didn't. Place I ended up was a paradise to everyone there but me." I took a swig of whiskey tapped my finger against the glass. "The agreement I came back on gave me my own private hell in my dreams, though. Relive my death every time I fall asleep. So I don't sleep when I can help it, and enough whiskey keeps off the dreams a little. Not much, but a little." I raised my glass at the bottles. "Bloody Kakistos..." I murmured under my breath.
I glanced at him. "I take it your experience was far, far worse."
Kakistos? Now that rings a bell, though I have yet to find where the sound is coming from. Something about Faith? Maybe I should drink less. On the other hand, maybe I should drink more. Things make so much more sense when I’m utterly pissed up to the gills with whiskey or some such. Not that Faith was amused by this, but that wasn’t my problem
( ... )
I took another drink and frowned. "Left someone behind...abandoned, really, if you ask me, and I couldn't live in a place with people who were happy all the time when I felt horrible. Only the bastards running the place didn't bother to tell me that time was slower there. Thought I'd been gone two weeks at most. Huh. Closer to nine or ten years than weeks."
He had to watch...I felt myself paling. "Oh God...I...don't imagine the pain that would cause...bad enough getting carved open having your heart ripped out...that's a whole different kind of heart ripping."
I nodded slowly and said softly, "In a way. The first moments I wake up from the dream I have to make sure I've still got a heart..." I sighed. "Hangovers are my most prominent reminders of being alive. That and...seeing certain people when I venture out of my room."
"Having done both, I prefer getting carved open and having my heart ripped out," I agreed. If anyone were to hear us talk right we'd be into the mental institution so fast we'd barely have time to blink our ours. Although, considering the place we're in, they'd probably cast it off as drunk ramblings. Actually, I'm not sure if this wasn't just that.
"Anyway, I don't wish that on my worse enemy if I had any. It's...." Not something you'll ever get past, you'll ever get over, you'll ever forget. I can still feel her in my arms, pleading me Why can't I stay? and there was nothing, *nothing* I could do. Giving myself a mental shake, I tore out of my ponderings and focused on this...Dian Ramsey once more. The first person, I have to say, I didn't feel the need to strangle. Aside from Faith that is
( ... )
"I must say I would not want to deal with the other," I said. If Faith died...I was not going to think about that right now.
I grinned faintly as finished off my drink again. The bells were beginning to ring, it seemed. I refilled my glass - making sure to use my own bottle - and looked at him.
"Faith Lehane. Who I still find it hard to think of as an adult, thus far. Part of me will always see her as sixteen, I think..." I sighed and stared at my glass.
Faith. Well. What a small world we do live in? Then again, if I'd have wanted anyone to show up back alive again... She wouldn't have been my first choice. Come to think of it, and this may sound harsh, she wouldn't have even crossed my mind. Of course I didn't really know her, although she seems to know me.
"Really?" I said with a slight slur. The whiskey is starting to go to my head. Nice. Only took me a bottle and a half so it's about bloody time. I don't sit here drinking because it's such fun"Well," I continued, holding up my glass to her. "Let me salute you from one Faith watcher to another. Though, I have to admit I rather like her the way she is now, even if she does seem to take great pleasure in knocking me unconscious still
( ... )
I choked on my drink and sputtered a bit. "They replaced me with you? I beg you pardon, as you've obviously come a long way now, but what I knew of you from before I went to America...you were vampire fodder without a controlled situation." I poured myself another drink and gulped it down. "Council was more insane than I thought..."
It took a moment for what he said about torture to register, and at first I just stared at him. My God. What had Faith been through to lead her to that. And what, if anything, had he done to provoke her.
"...no, she didn't. I obviously missed out on some rather...life altering events of hers...damn it, I knew I should have come back sooner..." I could have stopped it, whatever had happened. Faith was my girl, my Slayer. I sighed. Heavy emphasis on "was". Past tense. No more.
"Not that it's worth much...but I'm sorry you had to go through that."
If it had been years ago, I'd have bristled at those words. It helped to realize that since she was Council raised, she had been the same at one point. I *know* Giles had been when he first started at Buffy's watcher. I've heard the stories
( ... )
I did have better fitting clothes, at least, though the made my lack of weight rather obvious. Couldn't have everything. I hadn't taken EB up on her offer, in the end. I'd simply used the Council's money and had absolutely no qualms about it. But it was hard to see EB around, and even harder to see Faith ( ... )
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"First," I said. "Let's just say it's good that you are already sitting down..." I poured myself another glass from the bottle I'd gotten and took a sip. Good stuff. I licked my lips and took a deep breath.
"As to who wants to know...that would be Dian Ramsey." There. Bomb dropped. Ball in his court and all that. In the meantime, I took another drink. Or two.
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I glanced around at the rest of the pub for a moment. So many people. Like the estate, only not so full of teenage girls. A relief, that. I took another drink and glanced back at him.
"Your apathy is actually refreshing," I said. I'd been a completely different sort than he had been back then. Not surprising I didn't ring a bloody gong.
"Used to be a Watcher. Not that means much at the moment." I shrugged, looking out at the rest of the patrons again.
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I tapped a finger on the rim of my glass and thought about the other question. "Probably could have got myself fired, if I'd had long enough. Travers was a royal fuck-up and I'd have called him on it eventually." I took another drink.
"Instead, I had a rather nasty run in with a vampire. Nasty here meaning very unpleasant way of dying..."
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"And as much as I might have expected to end up in hell...I didn't. Place I ended up was a paradise to everyone there but me." I took a swig of whiskey tapped my finger against the glass. "The agreement I came back on gave me my own private hell in my dreams, though. Relive my death every time I fall asleep. So I don't sleep when I can help it, and enough whiskey keeps off the dreams a little. Not much, but a little." I raised my glass at the bottles. "Bloody Kakistos..." I murmured under my breath.
I glanced at him. "I take it your experience was far, far worse."
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He had to watch...I felt myself paling. "Oh God...I...don't imagine the pain that would cause...bad enough getting carved open having your heart ripped out...that's a whole different kind of heart ripping."
I nodded slowly and said softly, "In a way. The first moments I wake up from the dream I have to make sure I've still got a heart..." I sighed. "Hangovers are my most prominent reminders of being alive. That and...seeing certain people when I venture out of my room."
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"Anyway, I don't wish that on my worse enemy if I had any. It's...." Not something you'll ever get past, you'll ever get over, you'll ever forget. I can still feel her in my arms, pleading me Why can't I stay? and there was nothing, *nothing* I could do. Giving myself a mental shake, I tore out of my ponderings and focused on this...Dian Ramsey once more. The first person, I have to say, I didn't feel the need to strangle. Aside from Faith that is ( ... )
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I grinned faintly as finished off my drink again. The bells were beginning to ring, it seemed. I refilled my glass - making sure to use my own bottle - and looked at him.
"Faith Lehane. Who I still find it hard to think of as an adult, thus far. Part of me will always see her as sixteen, I think..." I sighed and stared at my glass.
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"Really?" I said with a slight slur. The whiskey is starting to go to my head. Nice. Only took me a bottle and a half so it's about bloody time. I don't sit here drinking because it's such fun"Well," I continued, holding up my glass to her. "Let me salute you from one Faith watcher to another. Though, I have to admit I rather like her the way she is now, even if she does seem to take great pleasure in knocking me unconscious still ( ... )
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It took a moment for what he said about torture to register, and at first I just stared at him. My God. What had Faith been through to lead her to that. And what, if anything, had he done to provoke her.
"...no, she didn't. I obviously missed out on some rather...life altering events of hers...damn it, I knew I should have come back sooner..." I could have stopped it, whatever had happened. Faith was my girl, my Slayer. I sighed. Heavy emphasis on "was". Past tense. No more.
"Not that it's worth much...but I'm sorry you had to go through that."
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