BtVS: "Five Views on Breaking & Entering" (Faith/Dawn) for cadence_k
Title: Five Views on Breaking and Entering
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters/Pairings: Faith/Dawn, Giles, Samantha, Willow/Kennedy
Rating: R
Timeline/Spoilers: Set in the summer of 2006. Spoilers for pretty much everything.
Summary: Dawn breaks the laws of God and man, amidst Faith, hope, and angst.
Notes: For Cadence_K in the Have a Little Faith ficathon. The request was for hope and angst with Giles friendship and some plot, post-“Not Fade Away.” The italicized epigraphs are from the poetry of A.E. Housman which is always good for moralizing (if little else). Sorry, Cady, that this is so late.
I. FaithPlease yourselves, say I, and they
Need only look the other way.
But no, they will not; they must still
Wrest their neighbour to their will,
And make me dance as they desire
With jail and gallows and hell-fire.
It had been six years since Faith had seen the inside of a police station.
Of course the last time had been the LAPD, an operation that ran like a well-oiled machine in a building that was more a fortress than an office. The Martins Ferry PD, on the other hand, was a burger joint in comparison; it wasn’t difficult at all to make her way inconspicuously (or at least as inconspicuously she could, as Faith couldn’t help that she was hot as hell) through the lobby, break down the door, find the police department’s single jail cell, and bust Dawn out. By the time the cops had figured out what was going on and had gone for their guns, both Faith and Dawn were already out of the building and into Faith’s car, from which Faith had just removed the license plates that afternoon.
“The ink on my pardon isn’t even dry and you have me breaking into police departments,” Faith noted as she made a hard left, losing the lone pursuing police car.
Dawn was dressed all in black, wearing a pair of tight leather pants which hugged her ass just so and a black halter which did the same for her breasts. If they didn’t have to hurry up to get away from the cops on their tale, Faith would have jumped her right there in the cell block. As it was, it was all she could do to keep her attention on her driving and not on the slender young Watcher in her passenger seat.
“All the digital evidence-including the security camera feeds-will have disappeared by this time tomorrow, courtesy of Willow,” Dawn answered easily.
“And what about you?” asked Faith.
“I had a faked I.D. linked to a manufactured identity,” said Dawn. “They shouldn’t be able to trace this back to me or to the Watchers’ Council. And the Watchers’ Council shouldn’t be able to trace this back to me.”
“Why the big secrets?”
“I doubt Roger will exactly appreciate my attempt to interfere with his Machiavellian plans,” Dawn answered. “And if the knowledge gets past the High Council, I don’t think Buffy would be thrilled that her little sister was illegally breaking and entering, either.”
“Supposed not,” agreed Faith. “But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her-is that the logic?”
“Running an organization like the Watchers’ Council sometimes requires engaging in activities in which Buffy would possibly not approve.”
“And so the answer is to keep them secret?”
“I’ve sent girls into battle knowing full well that not all of them would come back,” answered Dawn. “I’m not going to do it again unless I can honestly say that I did everything I possibly could to protect them.”
“Brazil really changed you, didn’t it?” asked Faith.
Dawn nodded. “It was the first time I looked into the eyes of evil. I mean really looked, without Buffy or Giles or anyone else to protect me to shoulder the burden. It is my responsibility to protect these girls, Faith, and I will do whatever it takes to achieve that end.”
Faith glanced over at Dawn. She recognized the look in the girl’s eyes: it was a cold amorality that she had seen in her own eyes before, and in those of others who had worked for the mayor: a willingness to go to any ends, no matter how extreme, to achieve the objective. She knew how dangerous such a person could be.
She was glad Dawn was on her side.
“So, you need a place to crash?” Faith asked, knowing full well that Dawn would know what she was really asking.
“Thanks,” said Dawn, “my plane for London doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning.”
They spent the rest of the three hour drive from Martins Ferry to Cleveland in silence.
II. DawnAnd how am I to face the odds
Of man's bedevilment and God's?
I, a stranger and afraid
In a world I never made.
They will be master, right or wrong;
Though both are foolish, both are strong.
Dawn was deep in her thoughts when Faith pulled into the St. Clare’s Academy parking lot. They made their way as quietly they could into the faculty dorm and to Faith’s suite.
“You want something to drink?” asked Faith, opening her fridge. “I’m sure you and Giles drink all sorts of fancy shit over in England, but I got my good friends Sammy A. and Jack D.”
“A beer’ll be fine, thanks,” Dawn answered, taking the Sam Adams that Faith passed to her.
“So you’ve been quiet,” Faith observed, sitting down across from her. “Rethinking your life of crime?”
Dawn took a long sip of her beer. “I did what I had to do. I don’t regret it. Things got close, though. If I had been caught-”
“You did get caught.”
“If I had been caught and you hadn’t been able to break me free, I hate to think what would have happened. This was a sensitive mission-that’s why the Council as a whole can’t find out about it.”
She couldn’t have said more, but didn’t. As much as she trusted Faith, the Slayer was better off knowing as little as possible. What good would it do to burden her with things she didn’t need to know?
“You’re brooding,” said Faith. “Take off your clothes.”
Dawn looked at her shock. Sure, she had realized that by coming here sex had been more or less the inevitable conclusion, but usually even Faith was a little more . . . gentle. Not quite so commanding.
“You’re the Watcher, getting to order us Slayers around,” Faith said. “Now it’s my turn. I want to see you naked.”
Dawn pulled her shirt over her head, then began unfastening her belt. Within moments all her clothing was in a pile next to her, and she stood in the middle of the room completely naked.
Dawn knew how to use sex as a weapon-most of those lessons having been taught her by Faith herself. Still, standing naked like that while a fully clothed Faith watcher her with undisguised lust couldn’t help but make her feel a little vulnerable.
“Now put your hands behind your back,” Faith ordered, producing a pair of handcuffs-a pair which she had no doubt absconded during the raid on the police station. Dawn doubted that the Slayer had had the presence of mind to make sure to procure the key, but nonetheless complied, crossing her wrists behind her back. Of course Faith couldn't resist giving Dawn's bare ass a squeeze as she put on the handcuffs, and Dawn had to smile despite herself.
She let out a sigh of relief as she heard the metallic clink behind her back and felt the cold metal of the cuffs against her wrists. For the next few hours, the fate of the world would rest in somebody else’s hands.
III. GilesThe laws of God, the laws of man,
He may keep that will and can;
Not I: let God and man decree
Laws for themselves and not for me;
And if my ways are not as theirs
Let them mind their own affairs.
Their deeds I judge and much condemn,
Yet when did I make laws for them?
Giles was waiting for Dawn when she emerged from the terminal at Heathrow. “Do you have the information?” he asked. First things first.
She nodded, handing him a small black film canister. “Many Bothans died for this information,” she said. Then her face grew serious. “And thanks for calling Faith to get me out of that.”
“We couldn’t very well have you rotting in an Ohio jail,” answered Giles, deadpan. Which was true enough. Her mission had been sensitive, and if she had been in the system any longer than she had been, the evidence that would have been generated would have been overwhelming. Already they would problems enough-it would be difficult to hide this from Roger; perhaps they could enlist Lydia’s help, if needed.
Giles said none of this as he and Dawn made their way to the Heathrow car park. There was no need; she already knew it all, and was probably already flagellating herself over her mistakes.
“I imagine you ran into some sort of trouble.”
Dawn nodded. “Ignochi demons.”
“Ah, yes,” Giles agreed. “They do rather tend to interfere with one’s plans.”
Dawn said nothing, only continued walking next to him in silence. It pained him to see her so somber. He could remember when she had been no more than Buffy’s younger sister, almost as annoying to him as she had been to Buffy. God, she had been so young then-she must have been twelve when they first met (or when he remembers first meeting her, which is the same so far as he is concerned). She had been so free, so happy, full of life and energy and words which seemed to come out of her mouth faster than human vocal cords could possibly produce them.
But she had grown and changed, a fact that was flagrantly obvious no matter how much he attempted to ignore the way in which her skirt showed off her legs. Now she was a High Watcher, one of the four heads of the Council of Watchers, and he wondered if there was a thought that passed through her mind now that wasn’t shadowed by the constant threat of apocalypse.
“How was Faith?” Giles asked. Seeing Faith was good for Dawn, he knew. As much as he tried not to meddle with the personal life of his younger colleague, he knew that their meetings tended to be . . . life-affirming.
“She seems well,” Dawn said. “Teaching suits her. Of course, now we’ve made her a criminal all over again.”
“Faith did what she did of her own free will,” Giles answered. “I gave her no orders.”
“Just a little suggestion?”
“Faith trusts you, and with good reason,” answered Giles. “She knows that some things have to be done.”
“And how many more like her are we going to make before we’re done?” challenged Dawn.
At first, Giles didn’t answer. He wanted to tell her that not one more Slayer would need go rogue or kill a human, that they would be able to take on all those burdens themselves. But the truth was Dawn knew quite well that she could only do so much herself, and that she would be forced to call on others to fall out of grace besides her.
“We are the ones who failed her,” Giles pointed out, and found that he wasn’t sure if he was talking about Faith or Dawn. “Myself, and Roger, and the entire old guard. You’re the new blood, Dawn. The Slayers trust you.”
Dawn didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Giles knew what she was thinking, because it was the same thought which had crossed his own mind every day since he had become Buffy’s Wacther: what if that trust cost one of the Slayers her life, or-worse-her soul?
IV. SamanthaAnd since, my soul, we cannot fly
To Saturn nor to Mercury,
Keep we must, if keep we can,
These foreign laws of God and man.
“Major Finn?”
Sam looked up from her desk. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“You asked us to report any activity on the LaVoscin premises?”
Sam nodded. Anthony LaVoscin was a stooge for Wolfram & Hart, the Order of Taraka, and pretty much every other evil organization on the planet, probably including the Bavarian Illuminati itself but with the possible exception of the Girl Scouts. “Well?”
“There’s been a break-in at the Martins Ferry safe house on 6th street. Local police apprehended the perpetrator but she later escaped custody when an accomplice broke into the local station and facilitated her escape. There’s no way of knowing whether she managed to make a copy of the files or not, but its likely.”
Samantha nodded. They had been waiting days for a judge to issue a warrant to do just what this woman had done. One of the drawbacks to being the only branch of the military other than the National Guard with a mandate-even if a super secret mandate, as in their case-to operate on American soil: they had to play by the rules. Even with a judge briefed on the existence of the supernatural it was difficult to get the gears of justice rolling.
“Any identification of the perpetrator?”
“The security feeds were all mysteriously wiped, but officers’ accounts describe a young woman, tall and slender, with dark brown hair.”
“Right.” She’d bet three-to-one it had been Dawn Summers; and if not her, then someone (probably a Slayer?) sent by her.
“Lieutenant, we knew the information we wanted was in that safe-house. Why didn’t we do like this girl did, and just break in?”
“Because we have our orders, sir.”
Sam nodded. “But why do we follow those orders? We’re talking about things far beyond the ken of most people, after all, and the fate of the world so often hangs in the balance.”
He looked at a loss for words. “Mine is but to do or die, sir.”
Sam tried another track. “And would you die for your country, Lieutenant?”
“Absolutely. As would any of the men, Major.”
“Of course you would.” It was not as if she had ever had any doubt as to that fact. “And what country is that, exactly?”
The lieutenant looked at her like she had grown a second head. (Well, not exactly like that, as she could vouchsafe from experience. But close enough.) “The United States. America, sir.”
“Yes, America.” Sam let her voice grow wistful. “The home of the brave and the land of the free. So if we enter that safe house without a warrant, are we still working to protect America?”
“I suppose not, sir.”
Sam sighed. “God knows there may come a day when having our arms tied by so much bureaucratic rigamarole might mean the difference between being able to stop an apocalypse and the end of the world. And on the day, as we all get eaten by vampires or whatever it is that is happening, we will be dying for our country, for the land of the free will still be intact. We will not have betrayed our ideals. Remember that, Lieutenant; you might find it some comfort when you’re having your blood sucked dry.”
“I will, sir.” He saluted, and once Sam had returned the salute, he turned and left.
Sam frowned and looked at the file in front of her. Patriotic speechifying aside, she wasn’t exactly eager to see the end of the world. It was a good thing, she supposed, that the Council of Watchers existed, so that they could betray their ideals, and she wouldn’t have to sacrifice hers.
V. KennedyHope lies to mortals
And most believe her,
But man's deceiver
Was never mine.
“I have the names,” Willow said from her computer. “Giles just sent them.”
“Thank God.” Kennedy picked up her sword, then realized she was still naked and put it down while she pulled on some clothes. “Who do I have to kill, love?”
“I’m printing out the list now,” answered Willow. “Ken, you know there are humans on this list. Are you sure you can do this?”
“They’re humans who, if they are still alive by the end of the night, are going to perform a ritual to suck the Earth into some demon hell dimension," Kennedy pointed out. "I think I’m pretty okay with taking life in this instance.”
“You sure?” asked Willow. “Because I could probably-”
“Willow,” said Kennedy, then leaned over and kissed her girlfriend. “You’re the love of my life, but you have to let me fight my own battles. Okay?”
Willow nodded, looking uncertain but duly chastised. “Okay.”
Kennedy kissed Willow again, then finished tying her sneakers, picked up her sword, and made her way out of their house. Outside, the sun was setting, sending beautiful streaks of color across the sky.
If everything went right, the sun would rise in the morning, too.
And that would make everything all worth it.
Right?
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Characters/Pairings: Faith/Dawn, Giles, Samantha, Willow/Kennedy
Rating: R
Timeline/Spoilers: Set in the summer of 2006. Spoilers for pretty much everything.
Summary: Dawn breaks the laws of God and man, amidst Faith, hope, and angst.
Notes: For Cadence_K in the Have a Little Faith ficathon. The request was for hope and angst with Giles friendship and some plot, post-“Not Fade Away.” The italicized epigraphs are from the poetry of A.E. Housman which is always good for moralizing (if little else). Sorry, Cady, that this is so late.
I. FaithPlease yourselves, say I, and they
Need only look the other way.
But no, they will not; they must still
Wrest their neighbour to their will,
And make me dance as they desire
With jail and gallows and hell-fire.
It had been six years since Faith had seen the inside of a police station.
Of course the last time had been the LAPD, an operation that ran like a well-oiled machine in a building that was more a fortress than an office. The Martins Ferry PD, on the other hand, was a burger joint in comparison; it wasn’t difficult at all to make her way inconspicuously (or at least as inconspicuously she could, as Faith couldn’t help that she was hot as hell) through the lobby, break down the door, find the police department’s single jail cell, and bust Dawn out. By the time the cops had figured out what was going on and had gone for their guns, both Faith and Dawn were already out of the building and into Faith’s car, from which Faith had just removed the license plates that afternoon.
“The ink on my pardon isn’t even dry and you have me breaking into police departments,” Faith noted as she made a hard left, losing the lone pursuing police car.
Dawn was dressed all in black, wearing a pair of tight leather pants which hugged her ass just so and a black halter which did the same for her breasts. If they didn’t have to hurry up to get away from the cops on their tale, Faith would have jumped her right there in the cell block. As it was, it was all she could do to keep her attention on her driving and not on the slender young Watcher in her passenger seat.
“All the digital evidence-including the security camera feeds-will have disappeared by this time tomorrow, courtesy of Willow,” Dawn answered easily.
“And what about you?” asked Faith.
“I had a faked I.D. linked to a manufactured identity,” said Dawn. “They shouldn’t be able to trace this back to me or to the Watchers’ Council. And the Watchers’ Council shouldn’t be able to trace this back to me.”
“Why the big secrets?”
“I doubt Roger will exactly appreciate my attempt to interfere with his Machiavellian plans,” Dawn answered. “And if the knowledge gets past the High Council, I don’t think Buffy would be thrilled that her little sister was illegally breaking and entering, either.”
“Supposed not,” agreed Faith. “But what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her-is that the logic?”
“Running an organization like the Watchers’ Council sometimes requires engaging in activities in which Buffy would possibly not approve.”
“And so the answer is to keep them secret?”
“I’ve sent girls into battle knowing full well that not all of them would come back,” answered Dawn. “I’m not going to do it again unless I can honestly say that I did everything I possibly could to protect them.”
“Brazil really changed you, didn’t it?” asked Faith.
Dawn nodded. “It was the first time I looked into the eyes of evil. I mean really looked, without Buffy or Giles or anyone else to protect me to shoulder the burden. It is my responsibility to protect these girls, Faith, and I will do whatever it takes to achieve that end.”
Faith glanced over at Dawn. She recognized the look in the girl’s eyes: it was a cold amorality that she had seen in her own eyes before, and in those of others who had worked for the mayor: a willingness to go to any ends, no matter how extreme, to achieve the objective. She knew how dangerous such a person could be.
She was glad Dawn was on her side.
“So, you need a place to crash?” Faith asked, knowing full well that Dawn would know what she was really asking.
“Thanks,” said Dawn, “my plane for London doesn’t leave until tomorrow morning.”
They spent the rest of the three hour drive from Martins Ferry to Cleveland in silence.
II. DawnAnd how am I to face the odds
Of man's bedevilment and God's?
I, a stranger and afraid
In a world I never made.
They will be master, right or wrong;
Though both are foolish, both are strong.
Dawn was deep in her thoughts when Faith pulled into the St. Clare’s Academy parking lot. They made their way as quietly they could into the faculty dorm and to Faith’s suite.
“You want something to drink?” asked Faith, opening her fridge. “I’m sure you and Giles drink all sorts of fancy shit over in England, but I got my good friends Sammy A. and Jack D.”
“A beer’ll be fine, thanks,” Dawn answered, taking the Sam Adams that Faith passed to her.
“So you’ve been quiet,” Faith observed, sitting down across from her. “Rethinking your life of crime?”
Dawn took a long sip of her beer. “I did what I had to do. I don’t regret it. Things got close, though. If I had been caught-”
“You did get caught.”
“If I had been caught and you hadn’t been able to break me free, I hate to think what would have happened. This was a sensitive mission-that’s why the Council as a whole can’t find out about it.”
She couldn’t have said more, but didn’t. As much as she trusted Faith, the Slayer was better off knowing as little as possible. What good would it do to burden her with things she didn’t need to know?
“You’re brooding,” said Faith. “Take off your clothes.”
Dawn looked at her shock. Sure, she had realized that by coming here sex had been more or less the inevitable conclusion, but usually even Faith was a little more . . . gentle. Not quite so commanding.
“You’re the Watcher, getting to order us Slayers around,” Faith said. “Now it’s my turn. I want to see you naked.”
Dawn pulled her shirt over her head, then began unfastening her belt. Within moments all her clothing was in a pile next to her, and she stood in the middle of the room completely naked.
Dawn knew how to use sex as a weapon-most of those lessons having been taught her by Faith herself. Still, standing naked like that while a fully clothed Faith watcher her with undisguised lust couldn’t help but make her feel a little vulnerable.
“Now put your hands behind your back,” Faith ordered, producing a pair of handcuffs-a pair which she had no doubt absconded during the raid on the police station. Dawn doubted that the Slayer had had the presence of mind to make sure to procure the key, but nonetheless complied, crossing her wrists behind her back. Of course Faith couldn't resist giving Dawn's bare ass a squeeze as she put on the handcuffs, and Dawn had to smile despite herself.
She let out a sigh of relief as she heard the metallic clink behind her back and felt the cold metal of the cuffs against her wrists. For the next few hours, the fate of the world would rest in somebody else’s hands.
III. GilesThe laws of God, the laws of man,
He may keep that will and can;
Not I: let God and man decree
Laws for themselves and not for me;
And if my ways are not as theirs
Let them mind their own affairs.
Their deeds I judge and much condemn,
Yet when did I make laws for them?
Giles was waiting for Dawn when she emerged from the terminal at Heathrow. “Do you have the information?” he asked. First things first.
She nodded, handing him a small black film canister. “Many Bothans died for this information,” she said. Then her face grew serious. “And thanks for calling Faith to get me out of that.”
“We couldn’t very well have you rotting in an Ohio jail,” answered Giles, deadpan. Which was true enough. Her mission had been sensitive, and if she had been in the system any longer than she had been, the evidence that would have been generated would have been overwhelming. Already they would problems enough-it would be difficult to hide this from Roger; perhaps they could enlist Lydia’s help, if needed.
Giles said none of this as he and Dawn made their way to the Heathrow car park. There was no need; she already knew it all, and was probably already flagellating herself over her mistakes.
“I imagine you ran into some sort of trouble.”
Dawn nodded. “Ignochi demons.”
“Ah, yes,” Giles agreed. “They do rather tend to interfere with one’s plans.”
Dawn said nothing, only continued walking next to him in silence. It pained him to see her so somber. He could remember when she had been no more than Buffy’s younger sister, almost as annoying to him as she had been to Buffy. God, she had been so young then-she must have been twelve when they first met (or when he remembers first meeting her, which is the same so far as he is concerned). She had been so free, so happy, full of life and energy and words which seemed to come out of her mouth faster than human vocal cords could possibly produce them.
But she had grown and changed, a fact that was flagrantly obvious no matter how much he attempted to ignore the way in which her skirt showed off her legs. Now she was a High Watcher, one of the four heads of the Council of Watchers, and he wondered if there was a thought that passed through her mind now that wasn’t shadowed by the constant threat of apocalypse.
“How was Faith?” Giles asked. Seeing Faith was good for Dawn, he knew. As much as he tried not to meddle with the personal life of his younger colleague, he knew that their meetings tended to be . . . life-affirming.
“She seems well,” Dawn said. “Teaching suits her. Of course, now we’ve made her a criminal all over again.”
“Faith did what she did of her own free will,” Giles answered. “I gave her no orders.”
“Just a little suggestion?”
“Faith trusts you, and with good reason,” answered Giles. “She knows that some things have to be done.”
“And how many more like her are we going to make before we’re done?” challenged Dawn.
At first, Giles didn’t answer. He wanted to tell her that not one more Slayer would need go rogue or kill a human, that they would be able to take on all those burdens themselves. But the truth was Dawn knew quite well that she could only do so much herself, and that she would be forced to call on others to fall out of grace besides her.
“We are the ones who failed her,” Giles pointed out, and found that he wasn’t sure if he was talking about Faith or Dawn. “Myself, and Roger, and the entire old guard. You’re the new blood, Dawn. The Slayers trust you.”
Dawn didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Giles knew what she was thinking, because it was the same thought which had crossed his own mind every day since he had become Buffy’s Wacther: what if that trust cost one of the Slayers her life, or-worse-her soul?
IV. SamanthaAnd since, my soul, we cannot fly
To Saturn nor to Mercury,
Keep we must, if keep we can,
These foreign laws of God and man.
“Major Finn?”
Sam looked up from her desk. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“You asked us to report any activity on the LaVoscin premises?”
Sam nodded. Anthony LaVoscin was a stooge for Wolfram & Hart, the Order of Taraka, and pretty much every other evil organization on the planet, probably including the Bavarian Illuminati itself but with the possible exception of the Girl Scouts. “Well?”
“There’s been a break-in at the Martins Ferry safe house on 6th street. Local police apprehended the perpetrator but she later escaped custody when an accomplice broke into the local station and facilitated her escape. There’s no way of knowing whether she managed to make a copy of the files or not, but its likely.”
Samantha nodded. They had been waiting days for a judge to issue a warrant to do just what this woman had done. One of the drawbacks to being the only branch of the military other than the National Guard with a mandate-even if a super secret mandate, as in their case-to operate on American soil: they had to play by the rules. Even with a judge briefed on the existence of the supernatural it was difficult to get the gears of justice rolling.
“Any identification of the perpetrator?”
“The security feeds were all mysteriously wiped, but officers’ accounts describe a young woman, tall and slender, with dark brown hair.”
“Right.” She’d bet three-to-one it had been Dawn Summers; and if not her, then someone (probably a Slayer?) sent by her.
“Lieutenant, we knew the information we wanted was in that safe-house. Why didn’t we do like this girl did, and just break in?”
“Because we have our orders, sir.”
Sam nodded. “But why do we follow those orders? We’re talking about things far beyond the ken of most people, after all, and the fate of the world so often hangs in the balance.”
He looked at a loss for words. “Mine is but to do or die, sir.”
Sam tried another track. “And would you die for your country, Lieutenant?”
“Absolutely. As would any of the men, Major.”
“Of course you would.” It was not as if she had ever had any doubt as to that fact. “And what country is that, exactly?”
The lieutenant looked at her like she had grown a second head. (Well, not exactly like that, as she could vouchsafe from experience. But close enough.) “The United States. America, sir.”
“Yes, America.” Sam let her voice grow wistful. “The home of the brave and the land of the free. So if we enter that safe house without a warrant, are we still working to protect America?”
“I suppose not, sir.”
Sam sighed. “God knows there may come a day when having our arms tied by so much bureaucratic rigamarole might mean the difference between being able to stop an apocalypse and the end of the world. And on the day, as we all get eaten by vampires or whatever it is that is happening, we will be dying for our country, for the land of the free will still be intact. We will not have betrayed our ideals. Remember that, Lieutenant; you might find it some comfort when you’re having your blood sucked dry.”
“I will, sir.” He saluted, and once Sam had returned the salute, he turned and left.
Sam frowned and looked at the file in front of her. Patriotic speechifying aside, she wasn’t exactly eager to see the end of the world. It was a good thing, she supposed, that the Council of Watchers existed, so that they could betray their ideals, and she wouldn’t have to sacrifice hers.
V. KennedyHope lies to mortals
And most believe her,
But man's deceiver
Was never mine.
“I have the names,” Willow said from her computer. “Giles just sent them.”
“Thank God.” Kennedy picked up her sword, then realized she was still naked and put it down while she pulled on some clothes. “Who do I have to kill, love?”
“I’m printing out the list now,” answered Willow. “Ken, you know there are humans on this list. Are you sure you can do this?”
“They’re humans who, if they are still alive by the end of the night, are going to perform a ritual to suck the Earth into some demon hell dimension," Kennedy pointed out. "I think I’m pretty okay with taking life in this instance.”
“You sure?” asked Willow. “Because I could probably-”
“Willow,” said Kennedy, then leaned over and kissed her girlfriend. “You’re the love of my life, but you have to let me fight my own battles. Okay?”
Willow nodded, looking uncertain but duly chastised. “Okay.”
Kennedy kissed Willow again, then finished tying her sneakers, picked up her sword, and made her way out of their house. Outside, the sun was setting, sending beautiful streaks of color across the sky.
If everything went right, the sun would rise in the morning, too.
And that would make everything all worth it.
Right?