Faith, Pike, and Sister Sunshine (Portal, Part 6, 2/4)
Title: Faith, Pike, and Sister Sunshine (Portal, Part 6, 2/4)
Author: kanedax
Fandom: BtVS Wishverse
Spoilers: Previous Chapters
Major Characters: The Mayor, Pike/Drusilla, Buffy, Faith, Merrick, Giles, Post
Rating: R for language and violence
Summary: The Master is gone, and far too many try to fill the void
Notes: I don’t own these characters. They belong to Joss Whedon, Christopher Golden, Dark Horse Comics, and 20th Century Fox.
Sister Sunshine (1/4) / Previous Chapters / Sister Sunshine (3/4)
Fuckin’ Watcher, Faith Lahane thought as she made her way down the open-air hall of the Sunny Hills Motel. If the hotel was southwest of the school, he should have told me southwest. Bastard doesn’t know his directions. 238… 238… 238…
“This must be the place,” she muttered as found the door in question. The numbers pasted to it were silver-on-black stickers the motel owner must have picked up for fifty cents at the local hardware store. The top half of the 3 was torn off, but considering the 237 and the 239 bracketing the room, Faith figured she was safe. She knocked.
The door swung open, and she was greeted by a crossbow aimed straight at her heart.
“Name,” said the small but tough-looking blonde staring at her over the crosshairs.
“You’re Buffy, right?” said Faith, only slightly unnerved by the abrupt and pointy greeting. “Buffy Summers? Your Watcher told me to meet you here.”
“Name,” Buffy repeated.
“Faith. Faith Lahane. You gonna let me in or not?”
“Hand.”
“What?”
“Your hand,” Buffy repeated firmly, lowering her crossbow and holding her hand out to Faith. “Give it to me.”
“Why?”
Before Faith even realized she should react, Buffy had a hold of her wrist and pulled it up to her chest. Damn, Faith thought. Slayer speed. Gotta get me some of that.
“Look, Slayer,” she said as her hand was pressed to Buffy’s breastbone, bare thanks to the gray tank top she was wearing, “I don’t know which way you swing, but I ain’t into chicks…”
“Shut it,” Buffy snarled, standing still, using her supernatural strength to keep Faith from pulling away. She kept her eyes, strong and deep (And pained, Faith thought. Lots of pain there) bored onto Faith’s own, waiting for something.
After a few expectant moments, Buffy released Faith’s wrist, and Faith noticed for the first time the small silver cross hanging around Buffy’s neck, right where her hand had been pressed. “Get inside,” said Buffy shortly, turning away. “Close the door behind you.”
“What the hell was that all about?” asked Faith.
“What do you think that was about?” asked Buffy. “You saw the cross.”
“Well, yeah, but I ain’t a vampire.”
“You can’t be too sure,” Buffy said, grabbing her boots. “Public building. You wouldn’t need an invite.”
“Wouldn’t matter,” said Faith, closing the door, “since it’s, you know, daylight.”
“And you were standing in the shade,” Buffy replied, sitting down on one of the two ratty beds in the even rattier motel room. “Lesson one, Lahane: Vamps don’t sleep during the day. They get crispy in direct sunlight, but that doesn’t mean that they can’t travel. Sewers are their main route, but they can go above ground if they keep bare skin out of the light. Overhangs, blankets, umbrellas, or even dressing themselves up in gloves, ski masks, and goggles.”
“They actually do that?” asked Faith, leaning against the wall.
“You’d be surprised what they can get away with. You’re patrolling with me tonight?”
“That’s what Post and your Watcher told me to do,” said Faith with a shrug, “at least until they figure out where our Lagos demon is. So yeah.”
“Then lesson number two: What the fuck are you wearing?”
“You like it?” said Faith with a smirk, looking down at her tank and black jeans. “It’s tight.”
“Yeah, it’s tight,” Buffy agreed flatly. “Tight enough to keep your flexibility down. Grab a pair of my khakis from the dresser, and one of my shirts. Your tits are bigger than mine, but they should still fit.”
“Yeah, right,” Faith snorted, “then we’ll hop into our big rigs and toss in an Indigo Girls CD on our way to the Doc Martin factory.”
“Or we’ll just get ourselves killed because white’s a fucking flare in the moonlight,” said Buffy. “Tans, grays, blacks, dark greens, basically anything military. Anything beyond that will just draw attention.”
“Well, isn’t attention what we want?” asked Faith. “Draw the vamps to us?”
“Element of surprise,” said Buffy. “If you’re going to be a Slayer you learn the rules. So change your clothes and save the Queen of Slut Town act for the daytime.”
Anger flared in Faith’s eyes. “You wanna say that again, B?” she said, pushing herself away from the wall.
“I think you heard me the first time.”
“I think you don’t know a damn thing about me.”
“I think you’ve been in this room for two minutes and I know all I’ll ever need to know. Now get dressed.”
Faith glared at Buffy. Buffy glared right back.
And for one of the few times in her life, Faith backed down.
“Whatever,” she said with a roll of her eyes. She stripped off her top and tossed it hard at Buffy before walking over to the motel dresser. “I don’t even wanna be here, anyway.”
“That makes two of us,” Buffy replied. “I don’t want you here, either. I work alone, and the last thing I want to do is waste my time protecting a girl who may or may not be replacing me after I bite it.”
“Yeah, but we do what our Watchers tell us to, right?”
“More or less,” said Buffy as Faith dug through the small collection of shirts. “But you don’t seem the ‘following orders’ type. Why are you here?”
“Following Miss Post,” said Faith. “My last Watcher got killed by a big bad named Kakistos, and for all intents he wants to finish the job. The Council assigned Post to me after.”
“So you’re following her here?” asked Buffy. “What does any of this have to do with Kakistos?”
Faith paused, the thoughts dragging her anger at Buffy down. “He’s…” she swallowed hard despite herself. “He’s bad news. I don’t even wanna think about… God, the things he did to her. And I ain’t like you, B. I’m just a fuckin’ Potential with no Slayer strength or nothin. Way I figure, probably be better to keep close to someone who actually has some power. That’s why we’ve been following this Lagos demon. He’s a gun for hire and already has a beef on Kakistos. We figure we could get him to fight that battle for us.”
“Then why is Merrick telling me to kill it?”
“Because you’re stronger than he is,” said Faith. “We didn’t know that there was a Slayer in this town until after we showed up. We only knew about British guy. But if you could take out the Lagos, you’d be able to handle Kakistos easy.”
“Oh, great,” Buffy sighed. “Another threat to this damn town. Cuz I can't wait to stay longer, thanks for that.”
“No problem,” Faith shrugged.
“And the Glove?”
“Lagos without a Glove is scary,” said Faith. “Lagos with a Glove is scarier, and might be inclined to kill us and Kakistos. And we don’t even wanna think about Kakistos with a Glove. So we want to get it gone before Kakistos finds out about it.”
“I’m so glad everyone’s being honest with me,” Buffy growled. “Alright, whatever. I find Lagos, I kill it. I find Kakistos, I kill it. I find Bonnie and Clyde, I kill them. Am I missing out on anything?”
“Sounds about right,” said Faith, pulling out one of the shirts. “Black look good on me?”
“Sure, why not?” Buffy said. “Goes with the hair and lipstick alright.”
“Wow,” Faith said, honestly taken aback. “Little Miss Army Surplus shows her eye for fashion. Good call, B.”
“That’s the old me talking,” said Buffy reluctantly. “Back before I was Chosen, I was a regular bubble-gum chewing, Prada-wearing airhead with thirty pairs of heels.”
“Yeah, I could see it,” said Faith, pulling the shirt on over her red bra. “Let your hair down, do your makeup a little better, and you could be a man-eater, even with the lip scar.”
“Doubt it,” said Buffy. “I gave up that life a long time ago. And could you stop calling me B?”
“Why should I?” said Faith, tugging at the tank top to stretch the fabric around her breasts. “That’s your cup size, isn’t it? I feel like my nips are going from outies to innies.”
“Cute,” Buffy sneered.
“I aim to please,” said Faith as she unfastened her belt. “So you’re all ‘I work alone’ lady, right?”
“Despite all evidence to the contrary,” Buffy said, flinching back as Faith dropped her pants, thonged bottom practically in Buffy’s face.
“And those two guys I met at the library?” she continued. “The short one and the hot one?”
“He’s gay.”
“So I heard,” said Faith. “You’re working with them?”
“Kind of been forced to,” said Buffy. “Bottom drawer.”
“Thanks,” said Faith, bending over again to pull open the pants drawer.
“Kinda been forced to,” Buffy repeated. “Oz and Larry can hold their own. So can Giles. They were up against it when The Master was in power. But as long as Merrick tells me to stay here, I stay here. Those three stay in the background and let me do all the heavy lifting, which is how I like it.”
“Wicked,” said Faith as she pulled on a pair of Buffy’s pants. “So any more lessons before we do this thing?”
“Yeah,” said Buffy, standing up and walking to the closet. “Anything gets big and hairy and you run like hell. Are we clear?”
“Five by five.”
“Stake or sword?”
“You have a sword?”
“Okay, you get the stake.”
“Oh, hell no,” Faith argued. “I want the hack and slash.”
“Any training in swordplay?”
“Professor Dormer taught me a little bit with sticks, no blades. But I figure I know enough to know which end’s the pointy one.”
Buffy paused, considering. “Fine,” she said, underhanding the sword to Faith, who caught it by the hilt. “But if your Watcher blames me for your lost finger, I’m not taking any heat.”
“Cool by me.”
“Alright, then,” said Buffy. “Let’s go see what we can find.”
---------
“We found something.”
All three Watchers stood up as Faith entered the library at a dead run.
“What did you find?” asked Merrick. “The vampires?”
“No vamps,” said Faith, leaning against the wall to catch her breath. “The Lagos. We found it. Tracked it.”
“Are you certain?” asked Giles.
“I’ve seen pictures,” said Faith. “Big, ugly, long hair. Kinda like the Cowardly Lion except with big curly horns and not so big on the cowardly.”
“And where’s Buffy?”
“We followed it to the crypt,” Faith panted, wiping a trickle of blood from her forehead. “Fought it for a bit. I got knocked around once or twice, then Buff sent me back here to see if you’ve figured out how to toast the Glove. She was still fighting after I left.”
“The Glove was there?” said Post.
“On a big fucking silver platter.”
“We’ve discovered a method of destroying it,” said Giles. “Living Flame. It will take some time to prepare it, however.”
“Well, Buff says get cookin’,” said Faith. “She’ll kill the thing and bring the Glove back here.”
“Why do you have her sword?” asked Merrick.
Faith stared back at him bewilderment for a moment, then looked down at her hand, in which Buffy’s sword was still clutched. “Oh, shit!”
“You left her without her weapon!”
“Well… I don’t know!” Faith cried. “She picked the stake! Plus she had a fuckin’ crossbow!”
“We should go help her,” said Larry.
“I knew she yelled something at me,” Faith muttered. “I was running too fast to hear her.”
“Larry, Daniel, go back with Faith,” said Giles. The two boys nodded and ran to the cage, Larry pulling an axe from the weapons cabinet while Oz armed himself with a crossbow.
“I’ll accompany them,” said Gwendolyn, taking a sword. “I know more about the Lagos than anyone, I should be able to give her some suggestions on weaknesses if he hasn’t already been defeated.”
“Fair enough,” said Merrick. “Rupert and I will prepare the flame. Hurry back.”
“Look, I’m sorry,” said Faith. “I didn’t know…”
“Buffy can handle herself,” said Merrick. “But get back there and help her and you won’t have to apologize.”
Faith nodded and turned around, running out of the library, Oz, Larry, and Post close behind.
“You collect the ingredients,” said Merrick, pulling the book towards him. “I’ll begin the incantations.”
“Do you think we should do it here?” asked Giles. “It’s Living Flame. Very unpredictable, especially around so many flammable books.”
Merrick looked around the library and nodded. “Outside,” he said, collecting the texts. “I’ll go set up a space. Where would you suggest?”
“The commons area would be the first place Oz and Daniel would look,” said Giles. “And it’s surrounded by the building, so no one can see it from the outside. I would suggest there.”
“I concur,” said Merrick. “Collect the ingredients, I’ll go outside and prepare the site.”
---------
The four mortal humans were greeted by the sounds of punches landing as they arrived at the crypt.
“Sounds like they’re still going at it,” said Oz.
“Doesn’t she get tired?” asked Faith. “I left a half hour ago.”
“Slayer endurance,” said Larry. “Usually she doesn’t take this long, but then again I haven’t seen her fight anything major since The Master.”
The four entered the large crypt to see a bruised and battered Buffy Summers still fighting toe-to-toe with the Lagos demon, a huge grey beast with long hair, mail that could be either copper or a very hard leather, and two long horns that curled around to the ends of its mouth, so that they almost looked like tusks. It was wielding a long, nasty-looking knife, but Buffy was countering with-
“Well,” Faith said slowly, as Buffy planted her foot into the demon’s midriff and, when he doubled over, beheaded him with the two-handed battleaxe, “looks like she won’t be needing my sword anymore.”
Buffy turned around, noticing their entrance for the first time. She was pretty worn, with a trail of blood rolling down her temple and a cut above her left eyebrow.
“Glad to see you left the sword,” she said to Faith flatly.
“You handled yourself pretty well without it.”
“Where’d you get the ax?” asked Oz.
“Borrowed it from headless guy,” said Buffy, glancing down at the corpse before looking back at the group. “You Post?”
“I am,” said Gwendolyn.
“There’s your demon,” said Buffy, giving the Lagos a slight tap with her toe, “and there’s your Glove.”
She pointed to the middle of the crypt, where a pillar-like pedestal stood. Atop it sat a large, dull steel gauntlet. Each of its five fingers was tipped with metal claws, and circling its forearm were a series of long, sharp hooks.
Post stepped forward, cautiously approaching the Glove of Mynhegon. “Excellent work, Miss Summers,” she said. “Quite extraordinary.”
“Well, it’s part of the job,” said Buffy with a shrug. “Now let’s head back to the school and finish it.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” said Post, picking up the Glove. “After you.”
“You gonna be okay, Buff?” asked Oz, noticing a slight hitch in the Slayer’s gait as the four teens left the crypt, Post following behind.
“I’ll be fine,” Buffy replied, flinching as she stepped down on her right foot. “Did a backflip over Lagos, landed on a piece of busted cement. Just twisted it.”
“If you need a shoulder,” said Faith, stepping up beside her. “Least I could do after leaving you in a fix.”
“No, really, it’s…” Buffy hissed in pain as she took another step, then threw her arm around Faith’s shoulder. “…On the other hand….”
“Anything to help the superhero,” said Faith, Larry stepping up to Buffy’s other side.
“Did I mention I used to be a cheerleader?” Buffy groaned.
“Yeah, your grace is an inspiration to us all,” Faith chuckled.
Buffy reluctantly cracked a small smile, one of the few that she had cracked since she arrived here in Sunnydale. It was decent to have someone around who had even a fraction of an idea of what she was going through, even if Faith Lahane didn’t have the burden and the mission that came with being the Slayer.
Not yet, at least…
Buffy’s warm fuzzies were interrupted by a series of metallic snikts from behind them, followed by a quiet mumbling.
“One piece of advice to you all,” Miss Post said as they turned around. “You’re all idiots.”
The four teens stared in shock at Gwendolyn Post, who stood just outside the doorway of the crypt. She wore a look of triumph on her face, and the Glove of Mynhegon on her hand, trails of blood trickling down her forearm from where the numerous hooks pierced her flesh, never to be removed. Above them, the clouded night’s sky crackled as blue lightning flickered from cloud to cloud.
“Miss Post?” Faith breathed. “What…?”
“She wanted the Glove all along,” Buffy said. “Take her down!”
“Tauo freim!”
Oz and Larry charged at Gwendolyn Post, Buffy close behind, wielding the battleaxe, but unable to get in front of them thanks to her injured ankle. Faith, however, stood rooted to the ground, her mouth agape. Before the other three could get closer than a few feet, an enormous bolt of lightning fell from the clouds and connected with Gwendolyn. The discharge was powerful enough to throw the three charging White Hats from their feet.
“It’s mine,” Post exclaimed. “At long last, it’s mine!”
“Miss Post?” Faith said, practically whimpering, her mind reeling, her feet staggering backwards.
“Faith,” said Post, electricity crackling along the Glove’s curled fingers, “you’ve been, well, faithful to me all of this time. And I thank you for that. But your usefulness has come to an end.”
“Faith, get down!” Buffy yelled. Post laughed throatily, throwing her hand out, pointing it directly at Faith. Buffy tried to stand up, tried to throw the axe at Faith’s legs, but her body still felt numb from the first shock, and wasn’t in any mood to respond, Slayer reflexes or not.
"Tauo freim!"
Fortunately for Faith, fate intervened on her behalf. Instead of being electrocuted by the massive bolt that erupted from the Glove, she fell backwards, tripping over a low tombstone deeply embedded in the graveyard's dirt. The air was knocked out of her as she landed, and the charge flew overhead, so close that she felt every hair of her body stand on end.
My eyebrows just stuck straight up, she thought absently. One more thing to cross off my list of strange things to happen to me.
Although she was gasping for air, the fall seemed to knock Faith back to reality. Before Post could take aim for another shot, she was on her feet, sprinting towards cover, swerving back and forth across the grass. She dove behind a large tombstone, a large chunk of marble blasting from it moments later as Post screamed the mystic words again.
Gotta move, Buffy thought, not sure if she was thinking about the situation or just about her legs. Gotta move, gotta take her down, damn it, come on, move!
Post, deciding that Faith was untouchable for the moment, turned her attention to Buffy. The grin on her face grew even larger as she pointed her clawed fingers at the Slayer, and Buffy was so focused on trying to get her body to roll out of the way that she didn't even noticed the two shadows crouched atop the crypt until they jumped down to the ground and the larger one twisted Post's unsuspecting head, snapping her unsuspecting neck.
"Down, girlie," said the smaller figure, a dark-haired, slight woman. Post's body fell lifeless to the ground, and her two attackers were thrown backwards as the largest bolt of lightning yet thrust through her body, burning her up in a blue fire that would have been pure agony had still been alive to feel it.
"Dust to dust," the woman said, almost dreamily, and chuckled a deep-throated chuckle as she lay on the grass.
"It can do lightning?" exclaimed the man, pushing himself to his feet. "I didn't know it could do lightning. That's awesome!"
If Buffy hadn't already been slightly paralyzed from Post's attack, the sound of the man's voice would have done the trick.
It can't be, she thought. It can't... No... it... it...
But as the man looked at her for the first time, she knew that it was.
"Hey, babe," said Oliver Pike, brushing dirt absently from his jeans. "Miss me?"
“Pike,” Buffy breathed, her eyes feeling like they were going to fall out of her head.
“Good to see you too, Buffy,” he said with a warm smile.
“But… But you’re…” Buffy stammered. “You’re dead…”
“Of course I’m not!” Pike replied. “I made it out of the fire, see?”
“But…”
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” he said, slowly walking towards her. “You disappeared after the dance. Where’d you go?”
“You… You…”
This was too much. She loved him. Loved him. She never realized it until after the battle, after the fire, after he was gone, and never even admitted it to herself in her guilt. But there it was, plain and simple. And to have him standing there again, with that smile on his face, his hand stretched out to her…
“I missed you so much,” he said gently, kneeling down beside her. “I’ve been looking everywhere…”
“Pike…” Larry moaned from the other side.
“Buffy,” Pike said quietly, “let me help you up.”
“Buffy,” Oz groaned. “Buffy, don’t… He’s a…”
Pike saw the realization flash in Buffy’s eyes. He twisted his mouth in impatience and, standing up, landed a hard kick to Buffy’s jaw before she could react.
“Yeah, so that was a bit of a lie,” he said as Buffy flipped backwards, landing on her back. “I’m dead. Dead as a doorknob. You killed me real good, Summers.”
“Leave her alone,” said Oz, struggling to even pull himself to hands and knees.
“Of course I’m gonna leave her alone, White Hat,” said Pike. “You honestly think I wanna fight her like this? It wouldn’t be fun.”
He walked over to Drusilla, who was gazing around the prone bodies like they were a buffet line.
“I should probably make some introductions, huh?” said Pike. “Dru, this is my ex-girlfriend, Buffy. Those are two of the White Hats. And that’s a scared little girl hiding behind a gravestone. Buffy, White Hats, scared girl, this is my lady.”
“Pleasure,” said Dru, pacing around the group. “So many choices…”
“Take your pick, baby,” said Pike, picking up the Glove of Mynhegon. “Those White Hats were thorn in my Master’s side for many a year. Frankly, a sampling of both of them wouldn’t kill me none. Just remember, I get the Slayer first, right?”
“My Spike came for you,” Drusilla said, turning to Buffy. “My father came for you. They’re both in the wind. And you’re on the ground. So much suffering…”
“I promise I’ll leave plenty for you, Dru,” said Pike.
“This isn’t any fun,” Drusilla pouted. “No one’s running.”
“Yeah, I know,” Pike said with a sigh, “sorry bout that. I didn’t think the Watcher bitch would be able to take them out so easily. God, I hope I can do that lightning thing. Was she yours, Summers? Or do you still have Walrus Boy waddling around telling you what to do?”
Buffy barely heard him. Her mind was still reeling he’s dead you killed him he’s a vampire he’s evil all your fault all your piles and blood and fire and all your fault he’s dead he’s Pike…
“Ah, well,” Pike shrugged. He examined the Glove, flipping it over and tapping out the soot of Post’s fingers. “Dirty old thing, isn’t it? Hey, Dru, do you think Tightass Cunt washes out with cold water?”
“You bastard!”
No, Buffy thought as she saw the Potential Slayer sprinting towards the two vampires, sword in hand. No, Faith, don’t…
But she couldn’t talk. Could barely breathe. Was still lying on her back, feeling the warm blood from her broken nose trickling down her cheek and down her throat, and she was only wearily able to move her arms.
Faith ran at Pike and Drusilla, furious tears spilling down her cheeks. “You killed her!” she screamed.
“Look at this, Dru,” said Pike. “Someone’s still feisty.”
“You killed Miss Post!”
Faith!
“We got a runner!”
“Little raven,” Drusilla chanted, knocking Faith’s sword easily to the ground and grabbing her throat. “Little raven, taking flight.”
“Have fun, baby,” said Pike, pulling the Glove onto his hand, watching the hooks collapse and impale his forearm. “Now I’m ready to fight the Slayer.”
“Save me a drumstick.”
“Absolutely,” he said, walking over to the Buffy. “Okay, up and at em, tiger.”
Buffy gazed into the night’s sky, Pike’s face swimming over her.
“I said, up and at em!” Pike screamed as he stomped down onto Buffy’s already broken nose. The pain was exquisite, more than she had ever felt.
“Look at me, dearie,” Drusilla purred to Faith, who dangled helplessly, her feet kicking six inches off the ground. Faith raised two fingers to Faith’s face and waved her pointed nails back and forth across her vision.
“Okay, Summers, if that’s how you’re gonna play it,” Pike said, grabbing Buffy’s arm and launching her to her feet. Buffy swayed, suddenly light-headed, and didn’t know if she was going to faint, pass out, or just throw up all over Pike’s shoes.
“Be in my eyes,” Drusilla chanted as Faith’s eyes glazed over.
“I’ll be nice,” said Pike, his mouth positively watering at all of that Slayer blood now gushing from Buffy’s broken nose. “You get first shot.”
“Be in me…”
“How about this?” Pike said, picking up the Lagos’s axe with his ungauntleted hand. “I’ll even give you some gear.”
Drusilla smiled up at Faith. She extended the fingers of her other hand, poised her nails for the final kill, for the anticipation, the exultation of feeling all of that hot, sticky jugular pour down into her mouth. Her face shifted, and if this was the first time Faith Lahane stared a vampire in the eye she wouldn’t remember it for posterity, lost as she was in Drusilla’s thrall.
“I figure, after that blowjob you gave me at the warehouse that second night, it’s the least I could do,” said Pike, tossing the axe to Buffy, who didn’t even have the strength, physically or psychologically, to lift her hand and catch it before it landed on the grass. All she could do was shake her head, feeling like her sanity was about a hair’s breadth away from snapping completely.
Drusilla hissed in pleasure, then had her feet pulled out from beneath her. In her surprise she released Faith and landed on her face-first on the grass. Contact broken, Faith pulled herself back to reality and staggered away from the downed vampire, who rolled over onto her back to see Daniel Osbourne still clutched to her ankle.
“Nothing?” Pike sighed. “Okay, then.” And he swung the Glove of Mynhegon upwards, connecting with Buffy’s chin. The force of the impact would have beheaded an average girl, but the Slayer was merely blasted over fifty feet into the air.
“Puppy’s going to pay for chewing on Mummy’s ankle,” Drusilla snarled, and Oz realized too late that he had used up most of his energy with that one minor distraction. Drusilla sat up, grabbed the arm attached to her leg, and snapped it like a dry twig. Oz howled in pain, but that was nothing compared to what he felt as Drusilla dragged him up her body by his mangled arm and bit into his neck.
“Holy shit,” Pike gasped as he watched the airborne Buffy. “Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit, I love this thing! Dru, did you see that?”
“Oz!” Larry roared, the adrenaline rush allowing him to get to his feet. He picked up his sword and ran at the feeding vampire, but was beaten to her by Faith, who attacked Drusilla the only way she could without hurting Oz. Lifting Buffy’s sword high above her head, Faith drove it straight down, piercing Drusilla’s shoulder and, leaning on it with her entire weight, forced it straight down the length of the vampire’s body, the tip exiting around her appendix before finishing in her upper thigh.
As Pike watched in exultation as Buffy’s limp body landed, the dull crack of her ribs as they connected with one of the gravestones before she flopped onto her back, his joy was cut short at the primordial howl from Drusilla’s throat.
“Spike!” she wailed, swinging her fist up to connect with Faith’s chin. Even in her agony, there was more than enough power behind it, and Faith found herself being lifted off the ground, knocked back twenty feet before skidding to a stop on the grass. “It hurts!”
“Just a minute, Dru!” said Pike. “She’s still moving, I almost have her!”
“Spike, help me!”
“Dru, just a minute…!”
“Spike!”
“My name’s not Spike, you numb bitch!”
“I can’t get it out!”
Pike stopped in his tracks, glancing back and forth between Buffy, motionless on the ground, and Drusilla, who had rolled Oz away from her and was now walking towards Pike. The sword, its hilt sticking out of the nape of her neck, wasn’t allowing her to stand straight.
“Spike, help me…”
“I told you, my name’s not…!”
Thwip
Pike recoiled backwards as something sharp collided with his shoulder. He looked down to see an arrow sticking from it, and looked back up to see Larry Blaisdell staring at him, his raging eyes pulling away only long enough to re-load his crossbow. Behind him, Faith Lahane had regained her footing, and picked up Larry’s sword to stand beside him.
“Come on, numbnuts,” she sneered, brandishing the blade like an expert, “why not try picking on someone who can stand up?”
“Spike…”
Pike glared back at Larry and Faith, took a hard look at the struggling woman beside him.
“Fuuuuuck!” Pike howled. “Why can’t I fucking do lightning?” Reaching up, he grabbed the hilt of the sword and pulled it from Drusilla’s body and dropping it to the grass. As she howled in fresh agony, another arrow flew from Larry’s crossbow, this time connecting with Pike’s stomach.
“This isn’t over,” he hissed, pulling the bolt from his intestine. “This is so fucking far from over.”
And at that, he grabbed Drusilla, threw her over his shoulder, and sprinted off into the night.
Sister Sunshine (1/4) / Previous Chapters / Sister Sunshine (3/4)