Ooooh another biggie... What can I say I get carried away with action...
Katharyn
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Title:
The Sidestep Chronicle – Two into Three Don’t Go (Part 39)
Author: Katharyn Rosser
Feedback: Constructive criticism always welcome.
katharynrosser@hotmail.comSpoiler Warning: Pretty limited. The story occurs in an alternate universe though reference is made to events that occur in both realities.
Summary: Well Tara and Faith are in the same town… and so are others.
Disclaimer: I still don’t own any of the copyrights or anything else associated with BTVS. All rights lie with the production company, writers etc, etc. I am making zilch from this series of stories.
Rating: 15
Couples: VW/T as usual.
Notes: Violence in this part – though strictly to bad guys*S*
Thanks To: The Kittens – there are non-finer.
The Sidestep Chronicle
Two into Three Don’t Go
By
Katharyn Rosser
“You know what I find interesting Willow?” The Master asked conversationally as his returned favourite drained the life from a rather poor specimen brought to him by one of his newer minions. Such hunger, always such hunger – and she didn’t bolt her food like so many of the others… she dragged it out slowly. In more ways than one. He could see the delight in her face.
Willow lifted her head and paused, thinking. “Blood?” she hazarded by way of a guess.
“Blood is life, agreed,” he told her.
“And it makes such pretty patterns on skin when you rub in the right way,” Willow told him. She proceeded to demonstrate on the cheek of her meal, making patterns on the flesh, wondering idly if she could be bothered to check back when it had dried to see what the difference was… probably not. It was harder to focus on that sort of thing now.
Aaah such hunger. Such desires. He remembered when he had known those feelings within himself. And she was actually right, in the light as it fell now there was something about the patterns she traced in the girl’s blood. It was almost hypnotic. Almost. And she was still, barely, alive which almost made the actions poetic. Willow finished off her snack and dropped the girl to the floor, smiling as some of the nameless, faceless minions created for the Master by other nameless, faceless minions, emerged and waited for his permission to remove the corpse. He waved at them to do so, wondering if it was time to start thinning the herd. The Brethren had never been so extensive… and even with an entire town to call their own the intrusions and constant need to impose discipline on the rabble were bothersome. Besides quality was becoming a serious issue… in the hunters and the prey. He gestured at Willow to approach
And approach she did, coming right up to him and sitting down. She curled her legs under herself, beside his chair. They called it a throne, but he had known thrones and this… this was a chair. She was resting her head on her hands, which were in turn resting on the edge of the chair. She looked up at him with her big eyes and then offered him her bloody palm and fingers.
“Not now Willow.” She pouted and instead licked the hand herself, for all the world looking like a feline cleaning itself. She did have the grace of a cat he had once kept as a mouser, hundreds of years ago. He used to like cats. “No what I find interesting is that none of my brethren told me that there was a Slayer in town. Families are supposed to talk to each other don’t you think Willow?”
Willow just kept on cleaning her fingers until he grabbed one of them, demanding her attention and bent it backwards to the point where real resistance began. The resistance of bone about to snap.
Willow gasped, then smiled, wondering just how far he would take this game now. It had been so long since someone had hurt her. The Master had never really liked to play. Not like the Kitten did… the Kitten was always playful – if not like this. Now
there was something that she couldn’t talk to the family about. The sort of something that would earn her destruction if
he found her out. It was a fun challenge to keep it from him. She wondered if he would torture her and couldn’t decide whether that would be good or bad. She’d missed it…
“Listen Willow when I talk to you.”
She smiled again, enjoying the pain and knowing that even if he broke her finger it would only take a day or so to heal… even if he bit it off – a couple of weeks for that. But it
was the Kitten’s favourite finger. One of them at least. Once she might have pushed him a little further. But she had plans for that finger. Imminent plans when darkness fell.
“Yes Master,” she said and was pleased when he tasted the blood from her finger… wondering if he would take the whole digit from her as a lesson. But it remained unscathed. The Kitten would be happy. Or at least not worried… If she had lost the finger, the Kitten unlike Willow herself, would not mourn the lost fun… but instead she would fret for Willow’s pain. The hurt. It was so
human.“I knew it… dull, lifeless flavour. Sort of musky. I don’t think she was very healthy.” That was just the state of humanity these days. Too many couch potatoes. The lipids coated the roof of one’s mouth and left a nasty furry sensation afterwards.
“She felt all right to me,” Willow offered but had to agree about the taste.
“Don’t they all?” She just smiled and he returned to the topic. “A Slayer comes to town and starts to kill our brothers and sisters and no one sees fit to tell me. I even had to find out about the Mayor’s lackey by having Zachary staked in front of me. Now why do you suppose that is?”
“Because they fear to give you bad news Master,” Willow told him. “And because the ones who knew - they are all… kind of dead.” The Slayer and the Kitten – they were both taking their toll now. Willow would have to do something about the Slayer… she was already enjoying the Kitten, knowing that she was safe in Tara’s presence. She wondered if danger would be more fun? Maybe… but it wouldn’t have the… completeness she found with her Kitten.
“Mmmmn. Perhaps that is it. Perhaps your Brethren fear the Slayer and avoid her?” It was loaded question, deliberately so and the only reply for Willow was to demonstrate that she, at least, did not fear the Slayer. There was only one thing in this world that Willow actually feared – and that wasn’t the Master. Not any more.
“Perhaps Master… Would you like me to kill her for you?” Willow offered. Before the Slayer met the Kitten. Better to have rid of her before she could try to come between them. That was what Willow feared… anything interfering with her time with her Kitten, Tara. And a Slayer would do that. One way or another.
Despite Willow’s eager tone and obvious confidence the Master was no fool. Stronger, faster vampires than Willow had fallen to the Slayers in the past. A pitched battle would do her no good, and judging by the increasingly shabby condition of his minions he still required her presence. She might not make it back to him a second time. They would certainly have to speak about that one day. “No. I think that it is time for The Three.”
“Just for a Slayer, Master?” That seemed like overkill to Willow, sure that she could do this herself, slightly offended that
he did not seem to think the same way. But she knew much better than to argue with him. She might not be afraid of him, but she was afraid of what he might do to her… preventing her from enjoying her Kitten. Maybe for a while… maybe forever.
“No. Not just for a Slayer. They shall be given the glorious task of destroying the Mayor of Sunnydale as well,” he announced. It was way past time for that insignificant little
man to be dealt with. Slayer first though.
Willow had to work hard not to protest at that. She cared nothing for the Mayor and his aspirations to become… something. But to kill him, The Three would have to go through her Kitten. There was no other way. The Mayor would summon Tara to his defence and she would be forced to fight. And that couldn’t be allowed – The Three were powerful enough, experienced enough, to be worse than anything Tara had faced so far in her years of hunting vampires.
He saw her face fall briefly before she recovered. “Aaah Willow, you know that you are my favourite… you may be there for the kill if you wish. But let them perform their duty to me. You can’t have all the fun now can you? That is a lesson that I have long being trying to teach you Willow. You must learn to revel in the joy of others.”
He had mistaken her reaction and she actually found herself feeling… thankful? “No Master… I suppose that I can’t.” He had no idea why she had really reacted like that. And that was a very, very good thing. Besides it would be more than just fun to watch the Three tear the Slayer apart. It would be delicious.
Almost as delicious as the Kitten.
“Go now Willow, send The Three to me so that they may pledge their devotion before entering battle.” It was the tradition… and they had to understand what he required of them. Victory, death or their lives in penance. So it was written… So it had always been done.
She obeyed his command, but she did not go right to where she knew The Three had made their ‘Chapel’ to the Master. Instead she made a stop to see the Kitten. Willow knew precisely what she had to do. She could not simply betray the Master.
If she let something slip in a moment of desire, forcing the Kitten to elicit the information from her through pleasure, that wouldn’t be her fault, would it? If she’d had a conscience it would have been clear. Even when she later sent The Three to the Master as he had commanded – with Tara already warned.
They could have the Slayer. But they couldn’t have her Kitten.
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Willow watched carefully as The Three made their way through Sunnydale, never allowing herself to lose sight of them. She had tracked them from the Bronze - having watched their audience with the Master - following the rooftops much of the way, overlooking them when she could.
They were dinosaurs. Dino-vamps maybe. They deserved to die walking around in their hulking armour, flaunting their nature to the entire world - even when they were not in Sunnydale on some mission or other for the Master. Utterly reliant on brawn with no consideration for brain at all. Their day was long since past. This was the time of the cunning. The vicious. The days when they could get away with what they called a ‘plan’ were long since gone.
‘We will seek out the Slayer and kill her before destroying your enemy.’ Great plan. Just spiffy. Big on the detail. Maybe it would be amusing to watch though. Willow would not have gone about their task in the same way. She knew why the Master had rejected her offer to eliminate the Slayer for him. He feared that she was too weak to match a Slayer.
Perhaps. Head to head. But then she wasn't intending to
match the Slayer. She would have just killed her. From the darkness. Quiet. Careful. Quick. He probably feared that Willow would want to ‘play’ with the new young female in Sunnydale. That was her reputation and it was well deserved. Willow did love to play, especially with those that she intended to kill. But she hadn’t even seen the Slayer yet, hadn’t felt her skin or smelt her breath… how could she consider playtime without knowing the effect on her senses?
Besides she had the Kitten. She knew everything about the Kitten. Playing with the Kitten was all that she needed. Strangely the performance she had given in the Bronze with the girl the Master had rejected had given her next to no pleasure at all. None beyond the kill and the assuaging of her hunger anyway. The rest of it was hollow, no more than a performance to show that she was still what she had always been – what she was expected to be. What she wanted to be.
She hadn’t thought about what she ‘needed’ for her pleasure before then. She had just taken it, whenever and wherever she wanted it. However too. Now it was a question of need? She should kill that Kitten. Tara was spoiling her, what she had always been. Willow knew that she was changing… being changed. Already changed.
But she wouldn’t kill the Kitten… she wouldn’t harm a hair on her head… such lovely hair, that would wrap around her hands and allow her to pull the Kitten closer to her and into one kiss… or another…
The Three made their way down the alleyway and into the back street that Willow had revealed to them as the place that the Slayer had made a number of kills in the past weeks since she had arrived. If it was true she had no idea, but those lumbering fools accepted what she had said without question. They actually thought that they had discovered the Slayer’s patrol pattern. That was their plan then. Willow would have waited until the patrol was ended. Killed the Slayer when she did not expect it. When she was resting. Not when she was expecting trouble and was armed for a fight. Their plan sucked.
But then again the Slayer wouldn’t be there anyway – Willow had no idea where she was or should be.
Really it was the Kitten’s plan. She had asked Willow to try and ensure that The Three came to this place tonight. And now they had. What Willow did not know where Tara was. Not until the Kitten moved her hand. Tara was well hidden on the lip of a single story building. Even if they had looked up, which in their arrogance they had never done, they would not have seen her. To see her they would have had to approach over the rooftops – and even then from a less obvious direction to spot her early and spoil her ambush.
And the Kitten would have known… she had her pendant. The thing that pained her, distracted her from playtime. She would have known long before they closed on her.
Willow watched as the Kitten raised a hand with a stake held in it and prepared her attack on the armoured vampires. She approved. Their night was truly past.
At least it was before all hell broke loose.
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Faith vaulted the fence as if it were waist high. In fact it stood well over her own height. Slayer strength had to be good for something besides punching and kicking. Actually it was… she could squeeze and squeeze too. She landed nimbly and straightened up in front of the three vampires she had been tracking along parallel streets. “Hi guys. Nice night for a walk.” She gestured at their armour. “You looking for the university role-playing geeks? Cos I’m pretty sure they won’t let you join in this late in the semester.”
One of the things swung at her and she heard the whoosh as his fist passed by her ear. Fast as well as big. Faster than they looked anyway. Not as lumbering as they seemed. And three of them too – could be interesting. “Not so big on conversation are you?”
They roared, almost as one.
“That’s okay,” she continued, “I’m not big on the whole punning thing either. I try but… ohhh hell…” she took up a fighting stance, giving up with the chatter… “Whose up for a gangbang then?” When they came at her Faith flew into action, axe swinging wildly but with a purpose.
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Tara almost swore when her ambush was ruined. Almost. She had been up here since Willow had left her to summon The Three to the Master. She liked to think of that warning as a concrete sign of what she meant to Willow. Enough for the vampire to come to her first. Although Tara had demonstrated, by not destroying Willow, how she felt - the vampire had never had to do the same. Till now. She’d had plenty of time to think on that up here on the roof.
It was only there that she had considered that by not killing her Willow had shown her exactly the same thing. Maybe, Tara had thought, she owed the vampire one. She was sure that Willow would collect – and had a shrewd idea of how too. Thoughts about that sort of thing had helped to keep her warm whilst she was waiting.
But it was the thought of Willow’s very definite warning and help that had really sustained her, as she had lain there, waiting for her pendant to start itching at their approach. Three times other vampires had passed through the alley and for once she had let them go, carefully replacing the stakes in front of her, stilling her breathing to a number of tiny little breaths so that they wouldn’t hear her. She could do nothing about her heartbeat… so loud in her own ears that she figured that they must be able to hear it. This was something different that she was doing tonight… these were vampires that even Willow respected. Warrior vampires on a mission – not just out for food. They were the champions of the Master… sent after the Mayor. Willow had been right when she’d suspected that Tara would want to protect the Mayor.
She needed the Mayor to do what had to be done. Didn’t she? Besides she liked him. For now, whilst she could.
And now they, The Three, were there in the alley and somebody was attacking them. Somebody
else. With an axe. Which might have been, she realised, the ideal weapon of choice. The large vampires Willow had called ‘The Three;’ the warriors of the Brethren of Aurelius were all armoured. Her stakes would have hit… blunted themselves and fallen to the floor, doing nothing much at all. That attacker… Tara guessed that she had to be the Slayer… might well have saved her life. The way that the young woman moved, the speed, the obvious brute strength to stagger one of those vampires with a kick; she had to be the Slayer. No human would be able to cope with three warrior vampires – renowned ones at that. No ordinary human anyway.
But even a Slayer was going to have problems with The Three. They were, as Willow had said, well over two hundred years old, and had fought together even in life before The Master turned them. They knew how to fight, and they knew how to win. Together. The Slayer was, at best, holding them off, initial surprise and overconfidence on the vampire’s part had given her some success at landing blows. At worst she was being set up for the kill. They were gradually shifting into a formation around her. The Slayer had stopped them, or tried to, kept them off balance, shifted her position so that they could not surround her, but they were getting there despite her efforts. Soon there would be one behind her all the time, no matter how she turned.
The Slayer needed help. Now. There was no time to get down from the roof, not before acting. The smaller of the vampires, the more limber it seemed, was behind the Slayer and seemed to be hanging back a little whilst the other two, both in front of the young woman, pressed the attack, forcing the dark haired woman to concentrate on them more and more. And when there was an opening the smaller one would strike. Tara could see the pattern of the attacks forming. She could see that smaller one waiting for the opening. They were going to kill the Slayer… or take her life’s blood.
Same thing really. The small one raised a weapon that she couldn’t quite see.
Tara concentrated and her first stake flew down at an angle towards him. The Slayer weaving, dancing and kicking – as well as swinging her axe – moved her head just a fraction as the stake, which must have just appeared a rush of motion to her, flew past her head and into the smaller one’s upper limb, jolting it back. It snarled in fury as the stake went straight through its hand… no doubt forcing bones apart.
Alerted to the danger the Slayer spun to plant a well placed kick in the centre of its chest. She continued the spin, both feet on the ground now, allowing her momentum to send the axe scything through the air where another one of The Three’s neck had been a half–second before. Tara felt the frustration of the Slayer who screamed something at the vampire for having the temerity to move out of her way. She let go with another stake at the small one who had drawn a knife, though to most people it would be a sword, of its own and was about to attack the Slayer with it despite its injured hand.
This time the Slayer was already aware, kicking out and knocking it away from her, forcing Tara to recalculate the flight of the stake in mid-thrust, still managing to connect with its skull. She’d had no faith that striking its unprotected head was going to do anything other than piss it off, unless…
The stake drove into the soft tissue of the vampire’s eye and it fell writhing the floor, where the Slayer’s boot drove the head down, the stake deeper pressing against the ground, before the axe found its mark. The Slayer was suddenly standing on nothing but the stake, sticking upright into the sole of her boot. The fallen vampire was just so much dust. Without a solid footing the Slayer was momentarily taken aback, and hearing the roar of the other two at losing their comrade of centuries was knocked off balance and flat on her back by another of them.
Tara left the roof, concentrating hard on lowering herself to the ground, and ran over towards the battle, fingering her stakes, looking for an opportunity but the remaining two were far cannier in battle than their lumbering gait suggested they were in day to day unlife. They were aware of her, but they could see that she was armed only with stakes and knew that their vulnerable parts were protected.
Almost protected. The Slayer rammed one leg straight out from her prone form and found some other soft tissue, eventually slamming against the pelvic bone and bending the big vampire double. But his comrade was still going and Tara couldn’t see any way to help the Slayer. Any way that would save her life.
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“Gee that had to hurt. Did that hurt?” Faith asked the giant vampire she had just kicked in the vulnerables. It was nice to know that these holy warriors hadn’t gone all eunuchy on her. That would have taken an advantage away from her. Another advantage. But who the hell was that blonde girl with the stakes? Hello, ‘one girl in all the world here,’ not needing any help. “Yeah, I think that hurt.”
The dismount from the roof hadn’t been particularly graceful, but unless it was the speed of the battle kicking in to affect her judgement it hadn’t been in accordance with the laws of gravity either. Okay, so Faith knew that her knowledge of the law of gravity was essentially that things fell to earth when you let them go, but things usually fell a damn sight faster than that chick had. And then there was the stake. Stakes…
She felt the stake that had been in the dusted vampires eye underneath her ass and fumbled for it, the axe having fallen from her hand when she fell, whilst she was trying to lash out at and hold off the other two. And now the axe, it was… it was skittering along the floor towards her as the blonde focussed on it. But the standing vampire kicked out and it went flying away. He cried out something – probably some lame old vengeance word from the good old days – and came straight at Faith, who whipped the stake from under her, and with an undulation of her body moved down between his legs driving the stake straight upwards and treasuring the sensation as it drove home. If the other one had smarted then that had to be murder. “Like that?” she asked rhetorically. Of course it didn’t. Somehow it felt good and she wondered if any Slayer had used that move before.
In thousands of years… nah. It’s a first. Somehow she just knew – just like she knew how to fight. She clambered to her feet, between the two vampires and the young woman who had helped her. “Hi!” she said, “I’m Faith,” as she drove her foot out and smacked one of them in the stomach.
The other woman started to say something but seemed to get tied up in her words. Faith didn’t have time for that. “Scuse me.” She dove forwards and at the exposed strap of her latest victim. Under his arm, holding the armour together, she tugged at it and the pieces of metal started to flap around. Now they were getting somewhere, seeing the other recover from her kick to come at her she gave the intimately wounded one a solid kick from behind, feeling the top of her boot connect with the stake driving it deeper until it hit bone in there. It screamed, not in rage this time. Just pain.
“As I was saying,” she continued as the wounded vampire fell to his knees, stolen blood flowing from the injury, “I’m Faith.”
“T-T-Tara.”
“Pleased to meet you Tara,” Faith said… and she actually was, not sure what would have happened without the… whatever she was here. She’d have won of course. But it might have been a bit more painful for her on the way.
“You got another stake Tara?” Faith asked, ready to dance with the one that was coming for them both.
“A-Always.”
Without looking round Faith held out her hand, waiting for the stake whilst landing another roundhouse kick on the vampire but she never got the chance to receive it. The vampire grasped her leg, smashing an arm down on the top of her knee. Faith waited for the sound of the splintering bone, but it never came. The blow landed, but it was cushioned somehow – as if she was wearing padding. The look on the vampire’s face told her that it was as surprised as she was and she knew that it must be this Tara once more. Her bone should have been in at least two pieces. She used the chance that the surprise gave her and flung herself off her free leg into a spin, striking its face before the critical moment when her leg would be wrenched in its grip. Fortunately it let go, reacting to belatedly protect its face. A cut opened up under one eye, flooding the orb with blood. It paused wiping frantically, trying to get its depth perception back and Faith used the time to first lash out with a fist at the other one, still clutching its groin in agony. Then she spun back towards the partially blinded killer, came up behind it, knowing now precisely where the to find the strap of its armour. The metal plates fell apart as she pulled, leaving her grasping the vampire in a bear hug, her arms not quite reaching all the way around its torso. She shifted to hold the armour up and away from the chest.
“Now,” Faith shouted, “might be a good time Tara.”
Faith watched as, somewhat awkwardly, the woman called Tara moved in, avoiding the vampire’s kicking legs, even as it forced Faith’s arms apart, to deliver the killing blow beneath that armour, Faith’s grip collapsed in on a cloud of dust leaving her clasping herself before she could react. “Best person to hug in the world,” she announced, convinced of that truth but still aiming to find someone tonight for other purposes. The blood was pumping in her now and that itch was going to need scratching.
Seeing its second comrade dusted motivated the crippled vampire to get to its feet, hobbling away, knowing that it was in no condition to fight the pair of them. Faith moved to pursue, but found Tara’s hand on the sleeve of her jacket, holding her back. Not hard, just a suggestion. Faith could have pulled free with no effort at all but there was something in the way that Tara suggested that she let it go that stopped her from going after it. Besides, aside from killing it she doubted that she could hurt it anymore than it already was. Not for a while anyway.
Faith stopped, looked the other woman over. Dressed funny for this game in her quilted coat and long skirt, but she obviously knew her stuff. And she’d been here waiting for the vampires. She’d set up an ambush. And Faith knew that she had crashed this Tara’s party.
“So T, who are you then? Some kind of witch?”
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Willow looked down from her vantage point. Directly above them, so that if Tara had looked like she was going to be hurt she could have let herself fall on the attacker. Especially if it was the Slayer. Slayer… She’d only known one before and this one… this one seemed more inclined to accept help. Still the Master had snapped the neck of the first. Willow fancied taking this one for herself though. She would report on the failure of The Three and The Master would send her after the Slayer… he would have to. Luke would simply be like another member of The Three. No brains. All she was waiting for now was for Tara to leave the presence of the vampire hunter.
But she wasn't going. She was talking. The Kitten was talking to the Slayer.
And Willow didn’t like that at all – the Slayer dressed a bit like she did.
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Tara felt the itch of the pendant, that special itch that told her Willow was nearby. Of course she was. Willow had warned her about The Three, she was bound to stick around and watch the fun. Maybe she might even have helped. Tara was glad that she hadn’t – she wasn't sure that she could explain or stop this Slayer if she went for Willow.
Faith had asked her who she was and there was no way that she could lie. They had faced death together now and she couldn’t just pretend to be some passer-by. She had shown Faith her power and it seemed to have impressed the Slayer. “M-my name is Tara.”
“So you said. That’s some pretty interesting ju-ju that you worked to deal with those guys. Were you waiting for them?” Faith asked her.
“Yes. An Am-Ambush.”
“Armour took you by surprise huh?” Faith bent and picked up her axe, examining the blade with a professional eye, looking for chips or a dulled edge.
“Yeah,” Tara smiled.
Faith waved the axe. “That’s why I find this sometimes helps. Why were you after them?”
What to say? Because my vampire lover warned me that they were coming for my employer… and by the way for you too? No. “Because they are vampires.”
“You don’t got the hots for them either then?” Faith surmised.
Tara just shrugged. Non-committal. Not them. Just the one. But she couldn’t tell a Slayer that could she?
“Nice to have the help, you really came through for me there. Thanks.” Faith seemed embarrassed even to be saying that. Tara guessed that, like herself for so many years, Faith was a loner. Necessary in their line. Except Faith had a Watcher, according to the reports. But she had only just got him, whatever had given Faith that self-reliance had been with her a long time.
Sort of like me, she was probably forced into it.“My p-pleasure.” She smiled.
“So you wanna go party? Pick up some guys, do a little boom-boom?” Faith offered as it were her ultimate compliment.
That took Tara back. They’d just met. Of course Faith didn’t know her tastes but to ask her that sort of question... Anyone would think that Faith was… Tara looked at Faith, really looked at her… her aura and realised that she was. The whole thing, the fight, it was a turn-on to Faith. And that worried Tara. How long could she last chasing a rush like that? Best not to be around her. “R-Raincheck?”
“Sure. I’ll see you around T – you can count on that.” Faith waved and headed back into the parts of town that still operated at night – despite the vampire presence. Invitation only clubs the best defence against a vampire attack in this town. If a person was looking for a party. A girl looking like Faith would certainly get her invitation once she had been checked over by security. Hands on checks of course.
Faith would probably get off on it. At least in that mood
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Willow waited until the Slayer had stepped away and then dropped down to land beside Tara, straightening up in front of the Kitten and teasing her hair back into place. “No Kitten, you don’t want to party with her… that nasty Slayer. We have… our own party to go to, don’t we?” Willow leaned in and the Kitten’s only response was to accept her thrusting tongue into her mouth.
The searching hands on her body.
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Still in agony but in control of it now, the final member of what had been for two centuries ‘The Three’ watched over the dumpster. He watched the Slayer walk away from what had to be the magical lackey of the Mayor of Sunnydale and had a new-found respect for both. If the Master allowed him to make amends then there would be a far more careful attack the next time.
But as he was about to head back towards the Bronze to report his failure he saw a streak of red drop down beside the witch. A familiar streak. Willow. Perhaps she might succeed where he had failed. He hoped not, that would truly be humiliation. She was not even a decade old but killing the witch did not seem to be on her mind. She was kissing the witch… The Master had to know that.
Quickly.
It might even keep him from being destroyed, his life would still be offered in penance… but the Master might not take it. Not when he knew about his favourite. There might even be a vacancy in that role.
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Faith flopped onto the couch in what was becoming a characteristic manner, Giles was sure that she was going to break the arm of it within weeks if not days. Still he was just pleased that she had arrived back at something like a reasonable hour. A reasonable hour for Faith at least. Still not in a position to be absolutely certain of her abilities he continued to wait up for her each night. She had been here such a short time really.
“There were three of them you say?” Giles asked. “Wearing armour, three vampires.”
“Yeah. One – Two – Err” she saw his look at her put-on ignorance, “three. Have a little faith G.”
“Warrior vampires in the service of the Master… if they were ‘The Three’ that I have come across in my research.”
“Well that is all they are going to be now. Research.”
“You defeated them all.” That was good. Reports indicated that The Three, in their time, might have defeated more than one Slayer.
“Yeah. Pretty nifty huh?” Faith boasted. “Two dusted and one singing soprano for a while to come.” Giles obviously didn’t get that right away. “Let’s just say that he’s got some new good wood.” She grinned.
In spite of himself Giles winced with empathy for a fellow member of his gender. “I wouldn’t be too concerned with him though, The Master is quite likely to have him destroyed simply for his failure – and without his brothers he is no worse than any other vampire. You know the Order of Aurelius has some quite fascinating rituals for dealing with traitors or failures…” He looked at her, “which you of course have no interest in at all, how foolish of me.”
“You just set ‘em up G and I’ll knock them down,” Faith confirmed.
“Still, very well done.” Perhaps he wouldn’t have to stay up so late anymore. Faith was clearly extremely capable. He turned to go to bed, looking up to where Jenny was stood in that quite… the words delightful, flimsy and sensual flowed through his mind… nightgown.
Faith followed his look and laughed, killing whatever mood there might have been as she spoke up. “Hey G… no hanky panky. It’s late.”
“Yes, thank you for those invaluable words of advice.” But he knew that Jenny was simply as concerned as he was for Faith. Which he supposed was good – certainly she and Faith seemed to like each other. The lack of a formal and official relationship between them was allowing a friendship of sorts to strike up. It just meant that neither of them was likely to make it through first period at school tomorrow without the urge to take a nap. Not such a problem in the library – but for Jenny…
He went up the steps to her, touching his fiancée’s hand as reached her. It was all they needed to reassure each other. But then Faith called to him.
“G?”
“Yes goodnight Faith.” God wouldn’t she ever stop calling him that?
“No, Giles, seriously… do you know anything about someone called Tara?” Faith asked.
“No… I don’t think I do.” He was about to ask why when he saw a flicker pass through Jenny’s eyes, as if the name triggered off some memory. “Why?” he was speaking as much to Jenny as he was to Faith.
“She’s a wicked powerful magic user. Witch I guess. She helped me with The Three. Not too much because like I
could handle them.”
“Of course,” he replied absently, still looking at Jenny.
“But,” Faith continued, “She seemed to be about to ambush them herself when I arrived there – and she came through in some pretty hairy moments. Killed one herself. Saved me from taking a hit…”
“Blonde?” Jenny asked, “Hair down to about here?” She gestured to below her shoulders and Faith nodded.
“You know her? Was she a student?” Giles asked her.
“No…” Jenny was straining to sort the memory from other life stuff. “Tara Mackenzie or something like that. She came to me at school asking about an old student… you remember her Rupert, she spoke to you too. Then she came back for a few classes.”
He shook his head, having better things to think about than visitors some time ago.
“Willow!” Jenny exclaimed.
“She was there asking about Willow Rosenberg?” Giles
was concerned at that news. Rosenberg had been a nasty piece of work… after her death. He turned that information – and the description over in his head, remembering that there had been a girl who had asked.
“Who’s Willow?” Faith asked.
Giles and Jenny ignored her question as the realisation made the question more urgent. “Snyder insisted, which at the time was the only reason that I even answered her questions.”
“What did you tell her?”
“Just impressions, memories of Willow. I really only told her that she was one of my better students even in the brief time I taught her. Nice girl… told her it was a shame what happened…” Jenny trailed off.
“Yes,” Giles confirmed. A girl who had respect for his books and always returned them on time and in perfect condition. Those people and the other ones, the miscreants he had a fair memory for himself.
“Who’s Willow?” Faith asked again.
“She said…” Jenny reached into her memories. “She said she worked for the Mayor but when she took in the classes later she never mentioned either him or Willow.”
“The Mayor? You’re sure?” Jenny just nodded to him and Giles knew that there was some research to be done on this Tara girl, a magic user working for the Mayor. Of course Mayor Wilkins had been diminished by the rising of The Master. Back then no one had known that he was anything but a politician, but the battles that had raged between City Hall and the Bronze soon showed that he had other ambitions than the merely political. Though at least for now they were on the same sort of side. He’d have to think about this, he put his arm around Jenny and drew her into the room.
“She seemed nice, quiet… but nice…” Jenny told him again. “Like I said she took a couple of classes she needed to round out her knowledge. Maclay… Tara Maclay. That was her name.”
“Goodnight Faith,” Giles said, finally remembering she was there, already thinking of ways to probe Jenny’s memory. Though it was perhaps a little late for that.
“Who’s Willow?” Faith asked nobody at all, sighing and turning off the lights as she stripped off her clothes and headed for the bed Jenny had made up for her. But there was no one left to answer. G would set ‘em up and she would knock them down. That was the way it worked. This Willow would be no different from any of the others. If she was still around.
She wondered, as she lay down hearing the soft voices from Giles and Jenny’s room, just what Tara was doing right now. What did a witch do after the hunt?
------------------------
“Shhh Willow, quiet,” Tara pleaded. With Lilah back in town and now in the next room she was in no mood to undergo one of Willow’s noisier sessions. The pain of the separation, when so much was promised, had been bad enough. She’d wanted to walk into her apartment with Willow on her arm but with Lilah there… and it was always better that the lawyer and Willow didn’t meet. There were too many threats from the vampire… and Lilah had made her feelings clear about all ‘bloodsuckers’ too. So Willow had found her own way to the window and entered the bedroom through it… and Tara had been drawn into a conversation with Lilah whom she had accidentally awoken. Tara knew that Lilah knew all about Willow – she had told the Mayor after all… but she had kept them apart so far and besides there was no reason to disturb the lawyer any further anyway. Lilah had an 8.30 with the Mayor, so Tara had pleaded being tired and slipped into the bedroom… where Willow had already slipped out of her clothes and Tara quickly joined her in comforting nudity. It was also pretty exciting… always exciting.
“The Kitten is giving me orders? My Kitten?” Willow asked her teasing Tara’s lips with her own blonde hair before giving it a less than gentle tug, pulling her head to one side, exposing her neck – but Tara had no fear of that action… to the rest of the world it was a death sentence. To her it was just Willow being Willow.
A Willow that she deeply appreciated.
Tara closed her eyes as Willow’s very familiar tongue caressed the perfect spot for a bite. “No… I wouldn’t, but please. For me.”
“Anything… for you Kitten. Perhaps you better find a way of keeping me quiet.” Willow smiled as the Kitten made to slide down the bed by her, having no doubt what Tara intended and it would, as always, be delicious. But it was not what she had meant at all. The time had come… The Kitten had earned it tonight… the time had come for Willow to take the first turn… And there was the favoured digit that the Master had left intact…
Willow didn’t let go of the hair, using it as a leash to restrain Tara’s enthusiasm and pulling her back up to the same level. “Kitten… I said to keep
me quiet.” Willow brought Tara back up the bed and sank down there herself, the noises that she managed to make thereafter muffled. The only thing that Lilah heard was the resulting escape of sound from the Kitten who wasn't as quiet as she would have wished herself to be.
On the sofa-bed in the next room Lilah just smiled to herself… in one way it was all going so well… in all the others… she was disturbed and hating it.
-------------------
It was a grand sword, one of the Master’s own from his living days and only ever used now for the most symbolic of gestures. Willow eyes caressed the blade, noticing how the reflections from the club lights in the next room somehow found their way onto the polished metal. She prepared to swing and end The Three forever as the final member, glowering at her for some reason she could not fathom, knelt in supplication before the Master.
She had arrived late, hours late. Missing the day that she had spent in Tara’s apartment, hidden from the hated sun by blinds and curtains. Hiding from the lawyer. Her hiding… it made her want to spit. Spit the lawyer’s blood back into her dying face. And now a Slayer… such a pretty Slayer too. She would have to watch out for that one. But now she was back home and The Master had saved her a gift. He saw it as a duty… but to Willow it was a gift and that meant a chance to indulge herself again after she had indulged the Kitten last night.
She raised the sword and it was only the Master’s typically exquisite timing that stayed her hand at the point when the sword was about to sever the vampire’s head from its neck.
“Do you know Willow,” he started and she halted her motion. “I heard something else interesting yesterday from the failure you are about to execute for me. Whilst you were… elsewhere.”
“Really Master?” What could this one have to say that was of interest? He had fought. He had lost. The Slayer lived. The Mayor lived. The Kitten lived… Even with the sword at his neck he twisted his head to leer at her. He knew something, he thought he could get out of this – and the only thing he could know about her... her only secret…
Willow felt absolutely certain that he knew… but what had he told the Master? There was no one in the room, bar the Master himself, that would stand a chance against her. But the Master would be enough… She had his sword though. She readied herself – just in case.
“No, not really. I just said it for the suspense. Do go on.”
Now who was leering? Suddenly there was fear in the final member of The Three’s eyes as two centuries of unlife rushed before him. Willow just smiled but was not totally convinced by the Master dropping the issue.
You failed; she wanted to taunt the warrior. You just keep failing… and I just kept winning. That was what she wanted to tell him, but she couldn’t. But she was sure that he knew it all the same. She raised the sword and this time the Master said nothing as it descended and made a clean cut through his neck. And he was gone, the sword not even stained by a fleck of dust. She didn’t put it down though. Just in case. But the Master did nothing except turn to a meal.
A while later Willow had been forced by propriety to return the sword to its scabbard on the back of the Master’s throne. It would have been so easy whilst back there just to spin, sweep the sword through his neck – the only thing the Kitten wanted… aside from Willow herself. But he would have caught it somehow and used it to inflict more pain than even she could stand. For years. Look at what happened to the puppy… So she hadn’t done that, just listened to the metallic swish as it slid back into the scabbard.
“I miss Xander,” he suddenly announced over a buffet supper… three young humans strapped to a table… absolutely conscious and staring wild eyed at the Master, more frightened of his terrible face than even Willow as she drained the life from one of them.
Xander. Willow had barely thought about him since she had been brought back. She’d given him his revenge on the White Hats and then moved swiftly on. He was gone. She was here. It was just the sort of realisation she shrugged at. He’d been fun… he’d been an interesting playmate and a curiosity. Her desires did not include his type… but something in her human memory had told her that she should like him… so they had played together on the hunt.
But nothing like the way she played with the Kitten. He’d have liked to… but most of the time she had held him at arms length. Sometimes by the throat. He’d liked that too.
“Do you miss Xander, Willow?”
If the Master had ever been innocent his question seemed it now. But he never asked a question that he didn’t have to. Why was he asking that, now? After what he had said about hearing something interesting? After the warrior she had executed an hour before had given her such a look? After the Master had waited for her to return before destroying him?
Could he know? And if he did… did he even care?
Of course he did. The Master cared about everything – or rather he was aware of everything, sought to control everything. He was the Master. That was what he did. He ruled, therefore things were.
“Sometimes,” she replied, hedging.
“Really? That’s so… nice.” The word ‘nice’ from the mouth of the Master was a contradiction in terms. “Tell me Willow…” he swung a leg over the side of his throne, for all the world as if they were just relaxing and having a chat, but every part of her was alert to the danger that he presented to her existence. “When do you miss him? On the hunt?”
“Yes Master… on the hunt.”
“He was such a vicious hunter… you were a team. So close it was as if you could never be torn apart… until you were. That’s how a family is supposed to be. Sad that wasn’t it Willow? Breaking up the family.” His bestial eyes burned into her skull.
“Yes. Very sad.” She pouted and couldn’t disagree with him… it wasn’t healthy to disagree with him.
“Do you miss him at other times my dear?” he asked her.
“No.”
“Not at all?” he asked, probing, thinking he knew what they had sometimes shared. It was a perception that many of the Brethren had expressed. It always ended in pain…
“No.” She knew just what he was asking, and she knew that he could spot a lie. So she told him the truth.
“It’s good that you… what do they say now? Got over him… after you came back. Oh, remind me to talk you about that whole resurrection thing… we never really discussed it and found out just what that was all about.” What he meant of course was that he was not satisfied with her answers and promised to get more. Shame she didn’t have any.
That promise sent a shiver through Willow. She had no real answers and he would want them. Soon. Perhaps the Kitten could help her discover how she had come back. Why? He dismissed her with a wave of his clawed fingers and she made for the door to leave his presence as quickly as possible.
“Willow,” he called after her and she stopped. Looked back. “Be very careful how you take your pleasures. And where. Very careful.” When the Master suggested caution then the biggest threat was the Master himself. He cared little who was destroyed in his service. But at his own hand… he wasn’t reluctant to administer discipline, but neither was he hasty.
“Of course. I always am.”
“I know. Now run along – I have to stop these looking at me.” He crossed to the buffet table and plucked out an eyeball.
And she left, hearing the screams. Knowing, where it mattered, that he at least suspected her now – if even knew for certain. That if he wanted to he could make her scream like that.
Still… there was the Kitten to go and see later on, when she had eaten, and that would make everything more interesting.
**********
You hear that baby? I am going nowhere.
by LeatherQueen » Thu May 16, 2002 10:58 pm 
at: 5/16/02 11:19:11 pm
But I still eagerly await its arrival. 
