Author’s Notes: This is my second BtVS fic, so, forgive me if I don’t know what I’m doing, m’kay? Besides, I think of these weird little things at weird times, like in the car, and I have to figure out what to do with them when I get to my computer! Oh, and in Angel this takes place after the whole sleeping with Lilah- everyone hates him- thing for Wesley. This is mainly a Buffystory though, and it takes place there… maybe before the whole Riley and his wife-the Doc and eggs-Buffy breaking up with Spike bull. J
Summary: The watchers council puts in a call to a long retired member. Somebody leaves the land of denial. A power outage in Sunnydale comes with some unexpected side effects. Someone returns to make amends. Not as dark as the title might make it appear. OK, go READ!
Song: “When suddenly it changes, violently it changes and I’m aware there’s no turning back now, you’ve woken up the demon…” Down With The Sickness - Disturbed
Rating: R
Awake & Kill
By ~Delenn~
Prison is for people who you are that afraid of; it's just a modern version.
It's a way of locking that thing up, letting the stupid people across the country sleep without nightmares, without fear.
Guards are put at the gates, bars on the doors; don't let the murderer escape.
This prisoner got out for good behavior... let's see how you sleep now.
Wesley ran a hand through his messy hair and wished he had brought a comb. Of course, the Watchers council hadn’t felt it necessary to give him time to get ready. They felt all Watchers, retired, active, or having left, should always be on high alert for the council to drop by. Like that was really the top thing on his mind after everything going on.
The prison guard looked at him strangely, but shrugged it off, having met the prisoner himself and in question of whom her acquaintances would be. “Judge Mercer has cleared all the paperwork, you just have to collect your ward.”
Wesley nodded and pulled out some of his strict British upbringing and demanding Watcher training, even momentarily forgetting how not the part he looked. “Of course. Lead the way, please, I would like to get this over with as soon as possible.”
The guard again shrugged, having seen enough strange occurrences everyday that no one in particular could get a rise of emotion out of him. So what if this guy was supposed to be by-the-book responsible? Wasn’t his problem. He led the man to the cell and followed him in. Standing outside the door, content at a job well done.
Wesley walked in and took his seat, thankful the prisoner was seated across the table from him, even if the handcuffs weren’t very comforting. Wesley didn’t have long to feel uncomfortable, as the prisoner fixed her gaze on him almost immediately, studying him long and hard. Wesley grumbled, his now normally short temper threatening to give way. “Well, are you ready to leave this place, or shall we sit here recounting the past?”
Faith leaned across the table and grinned. Wesley was more rugged, his hair messy, voice sharp and demanding… and that nasty scar on his neck didn’t hurt the image. Of course, her Slayer nose could pick up the distinct smells of recent sex and old evil, and she knew that this man wasn’t the stuffy Watcher she remembered. “I’m impressed Wesley, didn’t think you had it in you!”
Wesley’s gaze fell to his coat as he sighed deeply, “What impressed you so?”
Faith grinned, the handcuffs seemingly falling off of her as she reached forward to grasp his sweaty palms, “I mean, I always knew you weren’t all stuffy Watcher, had that thing for Cordy didn’t you, but I never figured you for such a bad-ass.”
Wesley pulled his hands away from her cold ones, and had the decency to look outraged. He gritted his teeth, “You don’t know the first thing about me, Faith.”
Faith slid out of the chair fluidly, more gracefully then before. Not just sexy but smooth, like a cat on the prowl. “Oh, yeah, I do. Had some time to hone my instincts locked up in here. Seems to me you’ve been sleeping with someone who’s not entirely the goody-two-shoes type,” she rested her arms on the table much too close to Wesley, “I can smell stuff like that now, learned my lesson, paid my debt, I’m a good little Slayer now.”
Wesley pushed the chair back abruptly and stood up, his back rigid from anger, “My life is none of your business. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be here. Now get your stuff and come with me.”
Faith shrugged unconcernedly, following him without a second thought, “If I had a choice you wouldn’t be here either. But hey, gave up my choice back in Sunnyhell, didn’t I?”
Wesley stopped at the door, turning gruffly; “I’m sorry, were you under the impression I cared?” he then pulled open the door and strode out, knowing she had no alternative but to follow.
Spike banged the side of his TV, trying to get the thing to turn on, but to no avail. “Bloody hell,” he lamented, “must be something wrong with the power.”
Sighing, the vampire exited his crypt and hunted for the power lines in the back. Sure enough, there was a cut in the line. “Bloke just can’t get a break,” he was instantly reminded of his kind-of-relationship with Buffy, just as everything else reminded him, “figures.”
He wasn’t sure how much more of this flat-out denial with her friends he could take. It was one thing to pretend they weren’t sleeping together, it was quite another all and out humiliate him every chance she got.
Spike cautiously picked up the two ends of the power line as he darted a quick glance around the cemetery. “Living on the hellmouth, power in the cemetery, and these people can’t get it in their heads to put lighting in the place.”
Shrugging he pushed the two power lines together with a little more force then was required. They meshed together causing a large spark, with Spike still holding on to both lines. The resounding shock through his body was enough to send the vampire flying back into his crypt wall.
Spike stood up with surprise, brushing off some dirt that was on his duster from his tumble. There was a terrible pounding in his head. He bent over, now holding his head. That was when Spike spotted the other chewed wires and correctly assumed he’d meshed the wrong ones together. “Why I never bothered messing with power,” he decided resolutely.
When the pain had subsided slightly, Spike stood straight and stared out into the dark. Something was off. “Where’re all the buggery lights?”
Normally he could see some lights from outside the cemetery, now he could see none. “Shock probably done in my vision!”
Sighing, the vampire cautiously made his way back inside his crypt, where he promptly dropped down to his bed, to sleep off the remaining headache.
Anya shouted over the Monopoly board, “PAY UP!”
Dawn grumbled and handed over the fake money to the greedy ex-vengeance demons hand. In her opinion this game was never fun unless she could goad Spike into playing with her and then pretend not to notice when he cheated. “Gee, talk about a sore winner.”
Xander attempted to diffuse the tension between the two as he offered, “No harm, everyone’s still in the game, right?” at the glares he received, Xander attempted a different tactic, “Uh, isn’t it Buffy’s turn?”
Anya grinned widely, “Ooh yes, roll and land on one of my ridiculously expensive hotels, Buffy!”
Dawn, seeing her sister was floating somewhere in outer space, snapped her fingers in front of the Slayers face and asked, “Hello? Earth to Buffy!?” It was her job as little sister, after all.
Buffy’s eyes abruptly focused as she pushed the offending hand out of her face and asked innocently, “What?”
Xander sighed, running a hand through his properly gelled, if somewhat messy, hair and casting a nervous glance at the clock. At this rate, the game would be over sometime next week. “It’s your turn, Buff.”
“Oh,” Buffy smiled wide, picked up the dice, shook them, and tossed them back on the board.
Dawn let out a loud whoop, “An eight, that’s MY hotel!” she stuck her tongue out at Anya, “Take that!”
Buffy picked up her racecar and moved it eight spaces on the board. Sure enough, it was one of Dawn’s hotels, a gaudy red thing set up on Atlantic Avenue. Buffy moved to her monopoly cash so she could pay her little sister; even as she noticed Anya pouting, that Buffy hadn’t landed on one of her hotels.
Willow and Tara returned from collecting more snacks from the kitchen, and Willow noticed the impending exchange of money. “Didn’t miss much, did we?”
There was a strange buzzing sound, and it was pitch black in the Summer’s household.
Anya let out a small shriek and cuddled closer to her fiancé. Buffy dropped the fake money and crawled to where she knew Dawn was, thankful when she felt her sister’s hand reaching out for her. Willow, who had been standing by a wall, felt for the light switch with one hand, and grabbed Tara’s free hand with her other. Finding it she flicked it down, then up, then down again. Nothing. “Uh, guys, it’s not the switch…”
Tara carefully set the snacks down and murmured something in Latin, causing a glowing orb of light appeared in the center of the room. “Better?” she asked weakly.
Buffy took stock of the situation quickly, “Is everyone okay?”
The assembled Scooby Gang all nodded that they were fine, and Xander peaked out a window from his position on the couch. “Uh, Buff, I don’t see any lights.”
Everyone rushed to the window, the orb following with a command from Tara, and they stared out into the complete darkness of Sunnydale at night. Dawn’s eyes were wide, “That can’t be good.”
Faith swung out of the car and slammed the door. She leaned over and spoke through the rolled down window, “See ya, thanks for the ride!”
Wesley glowered at the rogue Slayer from the drivers seat, “Remember, stay out of trouble… you’re my responsibility according to the Watchers and the state.”
“You mean I can’t kill anybody?” Faith asked innocently, then rolled her eyes and laughed, “Don’t worry, Wes, I’ll be one of the good guys, promise.”
Wesley grumbled something about her being patronizing, but was never more pleased than to pull the car away and leave that Slayer far behind.
Faith, for her part, made sure to flip Wesley off before the car was out of sight. It was both satisfying and oddly freeing, because no matter what he said, she wasn’t anybodies responsibility anymore.
Swinging her new biker leather jacket over her shoulder, curtsy of a pit stop on the way from L.A, and a biker with a bad attitude. Faith took her first few, confident, steps back out into the world. As much as she hated to admit it, some of that psyche-shit they had made her go through in jail had actually worked, actually helped some of her issues.
Of course, confidence had never been something she had been lacking, and it was a good way to avoid any vamps tonight. “I don’t want to deal with demons yet,” Faith muttered to herself as she planned where she was going.
“I need a place to stay…” A place to stay that was far enough away from B and the cemeteries, “I know just the spot.”
Hoping she didn’t run into the other Slayer any time soon, Faith cautiously made her way to a group of apartments just on the edge of Sunnyhell, “Perfect…”
The headache not going away had quickly told Spike there was a problem, a big problem. It didn’t help that when he woke up the lights in Sunnyhell were still off and all the demons were out and about.
Deciding he needed to find out what was going on, and he needed to avoid demons that wanted to pick fights with him, Spike emerged from his crypt and headed to the more humanly populated areas of the town. He shook his head several times, trying to clear it, but it didn’t help.
Walking steadily, Spike headed towards the only place he could think of that might hold a cure for his headache, the Bronze, and a lot of alcohol. He entered the building and promptly was run into by a great hulking human, blind in the dark. “Oi, watch it, mate.”
The guy stared unseeingly at Spike and shrugged, “Can’t see, dude, get out of the way.”
Rolling his eyes, Spike obligingly stepped out of the man’s way, turning to continue into the bar only to be decked by a stray fist from what looked to be a huge fight. Shocked by the strength in the punch, Spike took a step back, trying to get out of the brawl.
This highly drunk individual didn’t quite understand who Spike was, nor did he care, and followed after the flash of white-blonde hair he could see. Still throwing punches, “Coward, get in here and fight like a man!”
Realizing that at this point his headache couldn’t get much worse, and getting decidedly pissed off at the persistence of this idiot, Spike took aim and threw a punch with all his might. The man went down, and surprisingly, the pain was gone.
Spike stood there in shock for a moment, before deciding that something must have gone wrong. Maybe he had accidentally punched some demon in disguise, he was in pain - it would make sense that he couldn’t smell the difference. He sighed and looked for another human-smelling foe, “Here goes.”
Catching the man from behind, Spike made sure he was planning the most harm to this innocent man that he could think of before he swung, aiming for the head. Again the man went down, and again, Spike felt no pain. “Two strikes down, third’s the charm.”
Grabbing another individual, a girl this time, Spike slipped into game face and hovered his fangs over neck, figuring if that wouldn’t set his chip off he was off free. He bit and nothing happened. He let the girl sink to the floor, relatively unharmed, too shocked for the moment at the taste of blood and the lack of pain in his head to do anything.
Finally, a wicked smirk passed over the vampire’s features, as he yelled out, “Oi, all you bloody idiots, over here, thrashing’s for all.”
He watched with vampire eyes as throngs of mortals came at him, undeterred by the pitch black of the night, following the insult in the middle of a brawl. As the blood began to splatter, Spike whooped from under the five that had flung themselves on top of him, “Oh yeah, the Big Bad is back.”
“Whoa, I said back the hell off. I was just looking for a place,” Faith raised an eyebrow and simultaneously put her hands up in both a calming gesture and a ‘just try it’ one at the same time.
The landlord of the sleazy apartment complex grinned drunkenly at Faith, “That’s right, little lady, and this is definitely a place of… places.” He scratched at his balding head slightly and sized Faith up for both her looks and her likeliness to pay him, ever. “Look, you want a place or not?”
Taking a quick moment to review the confines of the apartment, Faith grudgingly nodded. It was what she needed all right, far enough away from all the people - and demons - gunning for her but still in town. Plus she was more than sure that the landlord could be persuaded to leave her to herself with either cash or fists. “Yeah, sure.”
Nodding slowly, the landlord put out his hand for the previously discussed first months rent up front. Faith bent down to retrieve the money out of her bag, turned slightly away from the landlord, who took the opportunity to check out her ass. “Consider yourself one of our fine community members.”
Faith was digging through her bag quickly and still keeping most her senses focused on the other human in the room just incase he proved stupid enough to try something. Sure enough she caught his hand moving out of the corner of her eye but didn’t move quite fast enough to avoid a slap on the ass. “Man, you need to chill out,” she kept her tone even and handed him the money.
However, the landlord’s grin was taking on definite leering tones and he was just drunk and stupid enough to act on the thoughts he was having. Grabbing the money hastily out of Faith’s outstretched hand, he adjusted his pants and grinned wider, “Sure thing little lady, just so long as I get the other part of the rent.”
She watched his gaze travel across her body before she did anything, just to be double sure she’d gotten his meaning right. After all, Faith didn’t plan on making the killing of humans a habit again, but she was sure she could make an exception for this creep. Of course that could lose her the apartment.
Making up her mind quickly, Faith surged forward, grabbing the short-but-fat man by his neck with one hand and twisting his arm around behind his back with the other. Slamming him into the nearest wall and noting with satisfaction that it hadn’t cracked, Faith tightened her hold, threatening to both choke the man to death and to break his arm. “I think you best get your ass out of here and not come back.”
When the landlord nodded in numb fright, Faith settled for the latter of her options and pushed harder on the arm she had in her hold until she heard the telltale sound of snapping bone and her money slipped out of his sweaty palms and to the floor. Smiling wickedly, Faith bent to pick up the cash, letting the man go. “I’ll just be keeping this now. We understand each other?”
The landlord nodded, making sharp little whimpering sounds and hastily moving away from the angry and vicious brunette. Cradling his broken arm gingerly, he quickly made the decision that he was never going to get any money out of this tenant because there was no chance of him coming back to collect it. He couldn’t call the cops either, because he had other, more shady, tenants as well. “Perfect, we understand each other perfect.”
Faith watched with the same evil grin on her face until the sweaty bald man had left and shut the door behind him. Then, allowing herself to relax again, Faith picked up her bag and tossed it towards the couch before flopping down on her new bed.
She didn’t even try to flip on the power because as she’d already noticed and been told on no uncertain terms, power was out, in all of Sunnyhell. Deciding the place would most certainly do, for now, she sunk down into sleep, not bothering with the lock on the door. “Guess this is home for a while.”
Buffy Summers stared at the phone incredulously; looking for all the world like it had sprouted another head and tried to eat everyone in the room. Which, considering that this was Sunnydale, it was a very likely possibility. However, no such demonic event had taken place. “What do you mean, you don’t know when the power will be back?”
Faced with yet another of their very irritated customers, the depressed voice of one of the power company’s employees answered through the receiver carefully. The last woman they had encountered had threatened to blow up the building, which had been one of the better calls. His friend Bob had been cursed by an especially pissed off witch. “Ma’am, there appears to be a fault in a cemetery line.”
“So,” Buffy asked, mentally calculating her power bill for the month and already planning her speech promising they would never get a dime out of her for it because of this beautiful mess up. “Get someone to fix the power, preferably now.”
The employee on the other end looked at the phone, and all around the blackness of the room where he was being forced to answer phones, and lamented that he was not being paid enough for this job. Especially with the possibility of being cursed. He was so not being paid enough. “Look, the last time there was an out in a cemetery the crew we sent all suffered unfortunate deaths just after restoring power. Nobody is willing to go out there.”
Buffy sighed, this would be the one group of people in the town who had actually figured out that wandering cemeteries was a bad thing and they were the only people that could restart the power. Resigning herself that even when it was a normal thing, demons were going to be the doom of her, Buffy asked, “What if I could promise your crew one hundred percent safety. With a side of a no death policy.”
Conceding that this was a much better deal than his own company could promise any of it’s members, or the people who supported it in the town of Sunnydale, the employee nodded, then remembered he was on a phone. “That might work, ma’am, may I ask how?”
Motioning her friends closer from where they were scattered around the room, talking by the light of Tara’s glowy orb, Buffy tried to sound as reassuring and mature as she could. All commanding and slayer-like, “We have a group,” she paused, “of bodyguards, if you will. We’ll meet your crew at the cemetery in an hour.”
Very encouraged by the possibility of power being restored, the man quickly said the one thing he knew was required, “So long as it’s free, you have yourself a deal, ma’am. I’ll make sure the people meet you there at the gates of Evergreen Cemetery.”
She hung up the phone with a click, assured that there would be people there who had the know-how to fix whatever had happened to the power lines. Smiling brightly at her friends, Buffy sarcastically announced, “We’re off on a mission of great importance, Scoobies, we have to go guard the power-peoples so that they can bring light back to our town.”
Without comment, her friends hurried off to find the weapons they would need, just incase any vampires or assorted other nasty demons decided keeping the lights out was a good thing. Buffy grabbed her coat, and didn’t even protest when she saw Dawn do the same. For the most part, this looked to be an excitingly boring night and the chances of real danger were less than if her sister were home alone. “Let the funness begin.”
Please e-mail the author of this story with your comments. goddess_delenn@yahoo.com