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The Return of Faith
By spikeNdru, July 15, 2004
Late Season 5 AtS, per a request for Faith to meet Illyria.
PG-13, 2920 words
Many thanks to makd for the wonderful—and very much appreciated—beta work.
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He preferred watching her from the observation window in the lab. The glass and the elevated position gave him an illusion of distance . . . of objectivity, that was harder to maintain when they were face-to-face.
In retrospect, he should have walked away and let Angel handle . . . Illyria. Why hadn’t he? Was he seeking a challenge or a punishment? He didn’t know. It was the same impulse that had led him to insist upon being the one to behead Lilah. To welcome responsibilities that would cause him pain.
As she was currently occupied with Spike, Wes turned and left the observation deck to return to his office. Matter can neither be created nor destroyed, only changed. If there was a way to get Fred back, he would find it. No matter what the cost.
*****
Willow’s eyes focused. She had been staring at the amethyst geode, as she often did while meditating, when pictures began to form in the depths of the crystal.
A winged angel stood on the edge of a precipice. Three beasts circled him, causing him to retreat closer to the edge of the void. The wolf growled, baring sharp fangs, and slavering. The ram lowered its head and prepared to charge. The buck reared and tossed its huge antlers. As the angel turned to face them, she noticed one of his wings was damaged. Without intervention, he could not escape.
Sweat dripping into her eyes, Willow shuddered. That had been . . . intense. And kinda freaky. Whatever was going on in LA, Team Angel obviously needed some help.
Willow reached for the phone and hit speed-dial for Buffy’s number in Rome, then hung up before the connection could go through. Picking up her palm pilot, she looked up Faith’s number instead.
*****
Sweat poured from her body and her arms felt like cooked spaghetti, but still Faith continued to punch the heavy bag.
Not again! She didn’t want to go there again. Seeing Wes, remembering how she’d tortured him for hours, and enjoyed it, took her back to a place she didn’t want to be; a person she didn’t want to remember.
Atonement was a bitch! And no matter how many good things you did, it never cancelled out the bad stuff. It wasn’t like you could take an A and an F and put them together and make a C. Nope. That F would be burned into your soul forever, no matter how many A’s you got. Not that she’d be likely to get an A. Maybe a C. And an F and a C made . . . what? A D minus? Fuck it! She’d never finished school anyway.
Faith bent over and grasped her thighs, gasping for breath. Taking a bottle of water out of her gym bag, she chugged it. Didn’t matter what she wanted. She was needed in LA, so she’d go.
Shaking her long, dark hair out of her eyes, Faith poured the rest of the water over her head, picked up her bag and left the gym.
*****
“Faithy!”
Lorne came hurrying across the Wolfram and Hart lobby, arms outstretched.
Faith stiffened, but allowed him to hug her. That was just Lorne. She’d sooner kick a puppy than hurt Lorne’s feelings. He had stayed with her, holding her hand and watching over her all the time she was in the grip of the Orpheus drug and she had felt his love and compassion surrounding her.
“Hey.” She smiled, a dimple appearing in her right cheek.
“What brings you to Hell-A, sweetcheeks?”
“Got a Witch-o-gram that somethin’ bad was goin’ down here and I might be needed.”
“Well, you’re certainly a sight for sore eyes! And I have a feeling we can use all the help we can get.”
“So . . . what’s up? Fill me in. And what’s with the new digs?”
“Oh, darlin’. I don’t even know where to start! The short version is, we’re trying to use the resources of Wolfram and Hart to do good.”
“And how’s that workin’ out for ya? Cause, I gotta say, the Scoobies aren’t real impressed with this whole ‘belly of the beast’ deal you got goin’ on here.”
Lorne rolled his eyes and draped his arm over her shoulders, leading her toward the stairs.
I guess the most important thing you need to know before you see the rest of the crew is . . .”
Lorne stopped mid-step and his arm tightened around Faith’s shoulder. His voice was low and filled with pain as he continued.
“. . . Fred’s dead, Faith. Her body was taken over by an Old One and it hit us all pretty hard . . . especially Wes.”
“An Old One? Pure demon? I thought that they were all gone. Like to another dimension or something. I mean, I know the mayor was trying to become one, but . . . Fred?”
“It’s a long story, cupcake. Suffice it to say, Fred’s dead and the Bluebird wandering around that looks a bit like her is called Illyria. Angel’s being secretive about something, Wes is all kinds of crazy a lot of the time and Spike is . . . well, Spike.”
“Spike? Thought he was dead.”
“That’s a whole ‘nother story, crumpet. I’ll fill you in sometime when we’ve got a spare week or so.”
“Huh. Guess I shoulda known. Death—not so permanent with the people I seem to know. Hey! Do you think we could do anything about taxes? Probably not. Looks like Willow wasn’t wrong when she said you guys could use my help!”
“Looks like.”
*****
Faith stood outside Wes’ closed door feeling unaccountably nervous. She felt . . . twitchy. There was some vibe going on that she couldn’t get a handle on. Jump in with both feet, ask questions later . . . that was her style.
She knocked on the door and then opened it without waiting for a response.
Books were spread over every available surface. Wes was in his socks, boomeranging from book to book like a possessed pinball, muttering under his breath.
“What the hell is going on here? You look like shit, Wes.”
Wesley glanced at her and then continued to read, running his fingertips over certain passages as if he could absorb the contents by touch.
“Yes, well, I suppose I do. There’s so much to do . . . to learn . . . and there’s no time. No time at all.”
“When’s the last time you ate? Or slept?”
“This morning? Last night? I don’t remember. It’s not important. I need to . . . I need . . . Was there something specific you wanted, Faith?”
“Yeah. I’m takin’ you home, Wes. You need a good meal and,” Faith waved her hand in front of her face, making an ewww expression, “a long shower!”
Wes continued to read, eyes darting from book to book. “A shower . . . yes . . . maybe later. I’m quite busy at the moment . . .”
“Really think you can stop me, Wes? Slayer, here.”
Wesley finally focused his attention on her. “Faith! What are you doing here?”
“Okay. That’s it. You’re comin’ with me.”
Taking a firm grip on his arm, she began to lead him to the door.
“Uh, Wes? Where are your shoes?”
*****
After pointing Wes in the direction of the shower, Faith scrambled some eggs and made toast. She had thought about making him tea, but couldn’t find any tea bags. He had a box of stuff labeled “Earl Gray” but it looked and smelled nasty and might have been a spell ingredient or something, and not tea at all. She figured she’d better pass.
When she heard the shower stop, she gave him an additional five minutes, then carried the food into the bedroom.
“You decent, Wes? Cause I got breakfast.”
“Faith, you didn’t have to go to all this trouble on my account. I’m really quite well, thank you.”
“Sure ya are. And, hey, you took care of me when I wasn’t in great shape, so just returning the favor.”
“I should get back to work. There’s so much to do . . .”
“Not gonna happen. You’re dead on your feet. If somethin’ bad’s comin’, you gotta be ready for it. I’m not trustin’ somebody to watch my back that’s in the shape you’re in, so you got a choice, Wes. You get in that bed and get some sleep or I knock you unconscious and the results’ the same. Only the first choice is a little more pleasant for you. So what’s it gonna be?”
Wesley gave her a calculating look and Faith cocked her fist. Deciding discretion was the better part of valor, Wes pulled back the coverlet and lay down. In a very short time, exhaustion claimed him.
Taking the dirty dishes back to the kitchen, Faith was debating whether she should stay with Wes or go check out the situation at W&H. She should probably check in with Angel and she was curious about Illyria.
She froze as she heard wracking sobs coming from the bedroom. Moving as quietly as possible, she slipped in. Wes was sound asleep, but tears were running down his face and his murmurings sent chills down Faith’s spine.
She was no stranger to pain and torture, but this was different. She had only tried to destroy Wes’ physical body . . . this Illyria was destroying his soul. No one should be allowed to inflict this kind of pain on a human being!
Faith grinned. Somebody was due for a little pain of her own. And Faith was just the person to give it to her.
Faith clasped her hands and raised her arms above her head, bringing her arms down behind her back, stretching out her shoulder muscles. She shook out her hands, loosening her arms, then cracked her knuckles. She dropped a light kiss on Wes’ forehead and quietly let herself out of the apartment.
Showtime.
*****
By the time she slammed through the front doors of W&H, Faith was in an ice-cold, killing rage. She took the stairs to the office level two at a time and burst into the reception area. She stormed over to the blonde behind the reception desk.
“I’m lookin’ for Illyria. Know where she is?”
“Faith? Faith! How’ve’ya been? I haven’t seen you in ages! What have you been up—“
Faith grabbed the blonde by the front of her blouse, a stake in her right hand.
“I’m readin’ ‘vamp’, and you obviously know who I am, so if you don’t want to be swept up by the janitor tonight, you’ll tell me what I want to know, cause I’m not askin’ twice. Where’s Illyria?”
“Um. Last I saw her, she was in the training room. She’s been working with Spike since the power suck. I think the Boss wants to see what she’s capable of . . .”
Faith smiled coldly. “Good. Then it looks like our goals are the same. Where’s the training room?”
“Uh. Go down this corridor and take a left, then another left. You can’t miss it.”
Faith released her blouse and stalked down the indicated corridor.
Harmony futilely tried to brush the wrinkles from the front of her silk blouse.
“And nice to see you again, too, Harmony. How are things going for you? How’s the job working out? What are you looking at?”
The last was directed at an employee who hurried to the elevator with a quick glance over his shoulder.
Harmony sighed.
*****
Faith slammed open the training room doors with a reverberating crash.
A woman stood motionless in the center of the room. Blue streaked hair, dark blue shading on her skin, silvery blue lips and ice blue eyes. She’da fit right in at some of the clubs Faith used to go to. Faith’s eyes ticked around the training room, coming to rest on a heap of black leather in the corner.
Illyria cocked her head. “Spike is resting.”
“Yeah, right.”
“You feel . . . anger. You wish to inflict pain upon this body.”
“Damn right, I do.”
Illyria tilted her head again. “Why?”
“See, it’s like this. These people are my friends. Spike saved my ass, but Angel and Wes saved my soul. I don’t like what you’re doin’ to them. That means, I don’t like you, I don’t trust you, so I figure you got some payback coming. And if you did that to Spike, it means I don’t have to hold back, so let’s throw down.”
“You wish to fight me?”
“Well, duh!”
“I can crush you like a bug, even with the loss of a percentage of my previous power.”
“Don’t think so, ‘girlfriend’!”
Illyria’s fist shot out. Faith blocked it, spun, and delivered a side kick to the solar plexus that sent Illyria flying across the room.
Illyria rose and studied Faith with a characteristic head tilt.
“You are more than human. You are also a demon half-breed, like the vampire.”
Faith shook her head “no”.
“I’m a Slayer. Chosen One? I eat your kind for breakfast.”
“There is none of ‘my kind’. I am unique. I am Illyria.”
“I am bored.”
Faith went on the attack.
Faith feinted with her right, bringing her left fist up under Illyria’s guard to solidly connect. She tried to follow it up with a kick, but Illyria grabbed her foot and twisted. Faith went with the motion, flipping to land in a crouch, but Illyria’s fist slammed into the side of her head before she could recover.
Grabbing Illyria’s arm, Faith used her momentum to toss Illyria over her own head and spun in time to avoid a follow up kick.
They were fairly evenly matched, but their fighting styles were completely different. Illyria was ice, cool and controlled, while Faith was fire and passion.
“Are you attempting to exact revenge for Winifred Burkle, Slayer? Did you also have a relationship with the Fred persona?”
“Nah. I’m straight. I just don’t like demons messin’ with good people.”
“I am not a demon. I am a god!”
Faith snorted. “Heard that one before. Last ‘god’ that showed up here got her ass royally kicked by B and the Scoobies. And now it’s your turn, bitch.”
The next few minutes were a blur of motion as Illyria and Faith fought each other to a standstill, neither being able to gain the upper hand.
“You cannot defeat me. Why do you continue to try?”
“Yeah, well, I noticed you’re not exactly ‘defeating’ me, either.”
Illyria tilted her head and looked searchingly at Faith.
“No. You are more than I expected.”
Faith grinned. “Yeah, I hear that a lot. I just seem to have that effect on people.”
The training room doors opened and Wesley hurried into the room. He looked at the two women.
“Would either of you care to tell me what is going on here?”
“Just havin’ a little fun, Wes.”
“The Slayer wished to inflict physical pain on this shell in retribution for the emotional pain my return to this plane caused her friends and allies.”
Faith crossed her arms and glared at Illyria. “Nobody likes a tattletale.”
She turned an unrepentant stare on Wesley. “You got a problem with that?”
“Faith. I don’t know how to explain this to you. Illyria is here. Fred is . . . gone. If there were any possible mystical way to bring Fred back, I would give my life to do so. I will never cease to attempt to find a way to free Fred’s soul. Bur for now, Illyria is present in this reality. She is in need of help . . . guidance . . . she needs to learn to live in this world and there is no one else but I who can . . .”
“Still playin’ the Watcher, Wes?”
The ghost of a smile crossed his lips. “Folk wisdom says the third time is the charm. Perhaps I have been given the opportunity to abrogate the mistakes I made with my prior charges.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself, Wes. Me and B, we just weren’t the takin’ orders type.” She looked thoughtfully at Illyria. “Although, I don’t think Big Blue here is either. At least you got plenty of experience to draw on.”
Wesley smiled briefly.
“We can all be thankful for small favors.”
“This place is creepin’ me out, Wes, so I guess I’ll take off. I’ll be around, though, cause Willow said you’d be needin’ my help, and I gotta tell ya, the ‘approaching evil’ vibes are getting’ stronger.”
“Where will you go? Do you have a place to stay, Faith?”
Faith got a devilish glint in her dark eyes and strode over to the corner, hauling the heap of black leather up by the lapels. She lightly slapped Spike’s face.
“I told you, no touchin’ m’clipboard! Oh, hullo, Faith. What’re you doin’ here, love?”
Faith slung her arm around Spike’s waist and began to lead him from the training room.
“Hey, Spike, remember that conversation we had about naughty nurses, horny cheerleaders and body swaps?”
Spike’s blue eyes sparkled.
“Yeah, pet, I do.”
Faith turned around and winked at Wes.
“You’ll know where to find me.”
Illyria stood still and tilted her head.
“The Slayer is appropriating my pet.”
“Damn Skippy! That’s exactly what I’m doin’.”
As the training room doors closed behind them, Illyria turned to Wesley and raised one eyebrow.
“You will explain to me who is this ‘Skippy’ and why he deserves to be damned.”
Wesley sighed.
The End
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