June 1999

Three weeks had passed since Graduation Day. Three weeks since Sunnydale High was reduced to a hole in the ground. Three weeks since Mayor Wilkins’ demonic giant snake transformation was blown into a series of bloody chunks. Three weeks… and a day… since Buffy stabbed her adversary in the stomach with Faith’s own knife, leaving the rogue Slayer in a coma, perhaps never to awaken.

A great deal had happened over the last school year, and Buffy and her friends had good reason to be proud of what they’d accomplished on Graduation Day. So why, rather than celebrating victory, basking in the admiration of her peers and simply feeling quiet satisfaction at a job well done, was Buffy unable to think of very much other than Faith and her own sadness and guilt at the way that the events of the preceding weeks and months had unfolded? Even Angel’s departure for pastures new did not consume her in this way.

The dreams, of course, were a factor. Since they had lain in neighbouring bays in the hospital, both dealing with severe blood loss from a knife and a vampire respectively, their existing Slayer bond had been heightened. Comatose Faith seemed still able somehow to reach Buffy’s mind usually, although not exclusively, when she was sleeping. Buffy’s dreams were haunted by memories of the two Slayers hunting, dancing and laughing together in good times… and the fighting, betrayals and homicidal rage of the bad times. Sometimes the memories were blurry and it was hard to be sure what was real and what imagined. Had Buffy gone to Faith’s bedside and planted a gentle kiss on her forehead? Or was that wishful thinking and her own guilty conscience talking?

“Did Giles say what he wanted to see you about?” Willow, slightly breathless from attempting to keep up with Buffy, broke the Slayer’s introspection.

“No, no, he didn’t. But I figured if it’s about another potential Big Bad, it would make sense to have you around for back up. And if it’s nothing major, then well, we can grab some mochas on the way back!” Buffy forced a jollity she didn’t really feel.

Willow wasn’t fooled. “What’s up, Buffy? You seem quite down or something. Is it Angel?”

“No. Well, yeah. Kinda. There’s just so much to take in, then preparing for college after the break and…” Buffy broke off as she noticed Willow stopping dead in her tracks. “Will, you okay?”

“It’s her, isn’t it.” Willow folded her arms and curled her lip. 

“Her?”

“You know who. Slutty psycho. Faith.”

“Urgh, is it that obvious?” Buffy sighed, Willow’s extraordinary ability to read her feelings taking her by surprise. “It’s just, she’s in my head, Will! My dreams. Everything.”

“She was trouble from the moment she came here. Hurting Angel, hurting Xander, hurting me! Hurting you Buffy! Not to mention joining with the Mayor, and the whole murdering people thing!” Willow had started walking again, so quickly this time that Buffy had to jog to keep up with her.

“Finch was an accident. He got in the middle of a big fight we were having with vamps. It could just as easily have been me, Will.”

“I don’t believe that Buffy. And even if you’re right, it doesn’t excuse the other stuff. What about that poor Professor?”

“Well, yeah. But I think she felt boxed into a corner. Angel tried to help, then the Council tried to drag her off to England in chains… maybe she thought the Mayor was her only option.” Buffy sighed. “It was all such a nightmare. The whole of that time.”

“I wish she had been locked up in England.” Willow turned into Giles’ apartment complex. “The least she deserves.”

“Will… I shoved a knife in her gut. I think she’s got whatever she might have deserved.” Buffy opened the door. “Hey, Giles. What’s up?” 

“Ah Buffy, Willow. Come in, come in.” Rupert Giles was standing, smiling as he polished his glasses on his dark green sweater. “Thank you for coming over. I have some news.”

“Oh?” Buffy flopped on the sofa and helped herself to a cookie from the open pack on a side table. “I’m guessing not another apocalypse? You look a bit perky for that.”

“No, well, indeed. It’s the Council, actually.” Seeing the reaction in both girls’ eyes to even the mention of that disgraced organisation, Giles pressed on quickly. “There’s been something of… a palace coup, you might say. Quentin Travers has been deposed, along with most of his hangers on. There’s a new leadership in place now. A new generation.”

Buffy made no attempt to hide her bemusement. “A new generation?”

“Well, yes. My generation in fact. Quentin and his entourage are, of course, of a rather more venerable vintage.”

“Huh?”

Willow patted Buffy’s knee as she interjected. “Quentin’s a lot older than Giles.”

“Right, yeah, of course.” Buffy smiled. “So, I’m kinda thinking, so what?”

“Well, firstly, they’ve offered me my old job back. Along with a grovelling apology. It seems dear old Wesley sent them a detailed report. Covering everything that happened since he arrived here. Right up to Graduation Day. Doesn’t pull any punches. Honest about his failure to manage either Faith, or indeed you, effectively. Recognises that the deployment of a Council goon squad probably turned a salvageable situation into a one featuring a homicidal rogue Slayer. I think it was the final straw… there was apparently already disquiet about Quentin’s insistence on the cruciamentum and my subsequent firing. Anyway, the new senior director is Tristan Chadwick. Decent chap. Old mate of mine from Oxford, actually. He wants us both back, Buffy, and I think we should say yes. Now, I’ve made it clear that we need to be given a bit more leeway to do our work effectively, without getting tied up in Council red tape.”

“Right.” Buffy took a moment to process this latest development. “Okay, so they get the Chosen One and her Watcher back on their books. Stops them becoming a total irrelevance. What’s in it for us?”

“It gives us access to the Council’s resources, which can prove very valuable. And on a personal level it means I get my salary back.” Giles poured a cup of tea from a pot steeping in the kitchen. “That brings me onto my second point. As well as a salary for me, the Council will also fund a regular stipend for you, Buffy, amounting to $2,500 a month. Purely in recognition of your Slayer responsibilities. There are no fixed hours or anything of that nature. In addition, an ex gratia payment of $10,000 has been authorised for each of us, to reflect the challenging circumstances of the last few months and the Council’s part in them.”

Buffy took a deep breath as she tried to take all this in. “Ex… ex… ex what?”

“Ex gratia. Kind of like a bonus.” Willow bounced in her seat. “This sounds great, Buffy!”

“Er, yes, yes it does.” Buffy gave Giles a serious look. “Okay, if you’re sure this Tristan can be trusted, I’m in.”

“That’s marvellous. I’ll call him and let him know.” Giles picked up the receiver but replaced it before dialling. “Oh. There’s one more thing.”

“Free kittens?” Buffy asked hopefully.

“Oh, no. It’s Faith. The Council has been keeping an eye on things and they called me to say that she awakened from her coma yesterday.”

“That’s amazing! One of the doctors said that might never happen. Guess he hadn’t come across Slayer healing before.” Buffy thought back to the previous day when her mental connection with Faith had felt even stronger than usual and realised that there had after all been a reason for that feeling. “Giles, we should go see her.”

“Buffy, I’m afraid we can’t…”

“We have to!” Buffy insisted, ignoring the furious looks Willow was sending in her direction. “The two of us have a lot of unfinished business. She’s in my dreams almost every night. I’m sure if we can just speak we can…”

“Faith was taken into police custody last night on suspicion of murder. Buffy…” Giles placed a reassuring, fatherly hand on the Slayer’s shoulder. “There is not much any of us can do right now and our involvement may complicate matters. I think we should step back for now.”

She felt as though she’d been hit with a heavy blunt object, probably one wielded by someone with super strength. Someone like a Slayer. Buffy stood. “Anyway, congratulations Giles. I’d better get back and do… something. Patrolling. Washing my hair. The usual.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll contact Tristan and give him the good news. The Council will be thrilled to have you back on the team.” Giles rubbed his temple. He hadn’t expected the news about Faith to affect Buffy so badly, and he was saddened that what should have been a celebration of their return to the fold – and to financial solvency – had soured.

Buffy walked out into the late afternoon sunshine in a daze. She was literally shaken back into focus by a grinning Willow who was pulling at her arm. “So. Mochas?”

August 1999

Buffy gazed at her new baby. A 1992 Chevy Tracker. “Finally. My own vehicle.”

“It’s great Buffy!” Willow gushed as she hopped into the front passenger seat. “So big!”

“Yeah, well I wanted something big enough to take out any demons that get in front of it. Plus, to transport you guys around of course.” Buffy gave the SUV a final admiring glance before clambering into the driver’s seat. “Thanks to Oz for his advice on the purchase.”

“It’s a good car.” Oz patted the roof as he climbed in the back seat. “And a good price.”

“Thanks to your haggling!” Buffy adjusted the rear view mirror. “What you think, Xan?”

“Well it’s okay, if you insist on a car that actually works!” Xander had just returned from his disastrous road trip, and a hint of bitterness shone through his usual jokey demeanour. “So, we off to Giles’s new place or what?”

“Yeah, we are.” Buffy pulled out of the driveway of her mother’s home. “Will, hold onto that cake!”

During the short drive to Giles’s new house, Buffy thought about the summer whilst trying her hardest to tune out her friends’ chatter. It hadn’t been a wasted few months, she decided. She’d taken the opportunity to practise her driving and convert her learners permit into a full licence. The Council bonus had enabled the purchase of the SUV along with a new wardrobe for the coming semester. Vampire activity had been significant, but her monthly stipend allowed her to focus on slaying without the need to take a summer job. Angel had left town, apparently for LA, but his failure to contact her hadn’t hurt as much as she’d expected. And as for Faith… the connection was still there, as were the dreams, but the absence of any concrete news had helped her to bury the matter at the back of her mind. In fact –

“Buffy! Watch out!”

 Willow’s scream came just in time for Buffy to slam on the brakes at a set of red lights. “Sorry, guys. Guess I’m just so excited to be out and about with you all.”

“Yeah, well. Make sure you get us there in one piece,” Xander grouched from the back seat.

“Right. Yeah.” Buffy bit her lip as the lights changed. Once through the intersection, she took a right turn into an anonymous residential street. “Okay, here we are! This one I think.”

The SUV disgorged its passengers onto a cracked driveway hidden between two high hedges. Next to where Buffy had parked was a battered looking Citroen, which was dwarfed by the new arrival.

“Yep. This is the one.” Oz gave the tiniest smile as he passed the Citroen and tried to thread his arm into Willow’s.

“Careful! I don’t want to drop this cake! You wouldn’t believe how long I spent making it…”

Buffy ignored the familiar bickering and rang the doorbell. On hearing a “come in, it’s open” from inside, she turned the handle and entered to the sight of a plaid-clad Giles attempting to hang a painting on the wall. “Xander! You couldn’t help me with this, could you?”

“Ah sure, Mr ex-librarian. But, y’know, you shouldn’t welcome in all and sundry. We could have been vampires.” With a slightly smug expression, Xander reached up and secured the picture in place.

“Yes, well. I thought I would probably be safe at 3pm in glorious sunshine. But, you are right Xander, we should be cautious.” Giles stretched and smiled at his visitors. “It is so good to see you all.”

“We bring cake!” Willow laid her creation down on the kitchen table in front of her. “Giles, this place looks awesome!”

“Thank you. I thought it would make sense to have somewhere a bit bigger. For training, now we no longer have the library. Plus it’s nearer the University campus. And a bit more private. Less chance of the neighbours getting excited. Well, especially as the houses on either side are empty.”

“Guess the money from the Council came in handy?” Buffy enquired, casting her eyes around the large kitchen-diner.

“It didn’t hurt. But what really made it possible was Sunnydale’s property prices. Already the lowest in California thanks to the Hellmouth, the whole ascension business caused them to fall further.” Giles shook his head. “You know what they say about ill winds… anyway, Buffy, come and see what I have got set up for your training.”

As Buffy went to admire the makeshift gym set up in what would otherwise be the family room, Willow busied herself with cutting the cake and searching out small plates on which to serve it. This left Oz and Xander sitting in awkward silence on the couch. Both remained uncomfortable with each other, their shared endeavours on and immediately before Graduation Day notwithstanding.

The awkwardness continued and Oz picked up a copy of the Sunnydale Press that was poking out of a nearby magazine rack. Out of habit he flicked to the crime pages, checking that there were no reports of wolf or giant dog-related mayhem in amongst the usual stories of bodies found with mysterious neck wounds. It was only four days since the last full moon, after all.

Thankfully no such reports featured, but Oz noticed another story. “Hey,” he said quietly just as Buffy and Giles re-entered the room. “You seen this? It says, ‘Faith Lehane, 18, pleaded guilty to two counts of murder in the second degree and was sentenced to 25 years to life.’ Woah. Things catch up with you, I guess.”

“What?! What more does it say?” Buffy tried to keep the panic out of her voice without complete success.

“That’s all. Just a snippet. A ‘news in brief’ kinda thing.” Oz was already regretting saying anything at all.

“Well can I just say, hoo-rah? It’s nice to see justice done for once.” Xander punched the air in a rather exaggerated fashion. “Let’s just hope some big bull-dyke spends the next few decades making little Faithy her bitch.”

“Xander…” Willow screwed up her face in distaste. “I’m not her biggest fan either as you know, but that’s a little…”

“Yes, Xander. Enough with your rather baroque fantasies.” Giles rolled his eyes. “I think we can all simply hope that Faith gets the help she needs whilst incarcerated.”

“Oh come on Giles! You can’t believe she’s going to get any help in there! She might have been better off going to England after all!” Buffy was choking back some combination of fury and tears, but before she could articulate any further thoughts Willow had begun speaking.

“Buffy, why do you keep making excuses for her? The bottom line is that she’s a murderer. And guess what happens to murderers? They go to prison. And I’m sorry if it’s not going to be all that comfortable for her, but again! You know what’s not comfortable? Prison! And -”

Oz decided that this was the time to interrupt. “I’m not a gambling man. But if I was, then on the question of who we know that would do best in the Big House, my money’s on Faith.”

This was received with nods and smiles and then conversation moved on to the cake, to Xander’s failed road trip and to the freshmen’s last minute preparations for the new semester. Giles excused himself while Oz was detailing Dingoes’ tour plans and Buffy took the opportunity to follow her Watcher, who was pouring himself a large gin and tonic from a spherical drinks cabinet decorated to resemble an old fashioned globe. “Giles. Did you know about this?.”

“Yes. But only a few hours before you. Wesley called me this morning. He has been following the whole sorry saga.” Giles sipped his drink. “It’s tragic, really. On so many levels. I didn’t want to raise it in front of the others for fear of the precise reaction we observed.”

“25 to life, Giles. I can’t even imagine what she’s going through! No mercy! What happened to rehabilitation and all that stuff…”

“The US justice system is not noted for its mercy. Or, indeed, its rehabilitative qualities. But Wesley said it was just like she’d given up. She wanted it over with. Hence the guilty plea, I suppose. She didn’t say a word in her own defence.” Giles shook his head. “She’s very, very damaged, Buffy. You have to stop blaming yourself.”

Slayer and Watcher returned to the others and made small talk for another hour before Buffy made an excuse about wanting to prepare for patrolling later and brought the gathering to an end. On the drive back, to Buffy’s irritation, the subject of Faith came up again.

“She was so strange. I had no idea what her last name was. Or her age. Did anyone?” Willow frowned. “She never told us.”

Buffy glanced in the rear view mirror, catching the eyes of her passengers, who were now all piled in the back seat. “We never asked.”