The deflated group – sans Angel, who had had left once they'd arrived back at the school – were scattered about the library. A mixture of grim and worried faces were the only things Buffy found when she looked around the room.

“Tell me again exactly what happened,” Giles said as he rubbed at his tired, reddened eyes.

Buffy let out a small sigh. She'd already been through it in detail on their way back. “It's pretty simple, Giles. Mayor uses shard on Faith. Faith goes down. Then suddenly the mayor is juiced up in a big way, and...” She stopped mid sentence and took a quick glance at Faith before deciding Giles could fill in the blanks for himself.

“And at what point did this happen?”

“I don't know. Maybe five minutes before Angel showed up.”

His brow furrowed. “Interesting. That's about the same time Willow's spell started to decline.”

“You think the shard blocked it?” Willow asked.

“It can't be a coincidence.”

“It makes sense,” Buffy agreed. “I couldn't even get close to him. When I tried, something shot out of the shard, and Giles, my skin is still crawling. That thing is bad news in a big way.”

“I had little doubt of that, but infused with the strength of a Slayer? I'd say that's an understatement.”

“But her powers can't just be gone forever, right?” she asked hopefully. “I mean that's never happened before, has it?”

“I don't believe it has, but I'm not aware of anything in the council's records regarding the loss of a Slayer's abilities at all.” He stopped, his eyes catching Buffy's before turning down to stare at the table.

Suddenly everyone was quiet, the only sound in the room coming from Xander's fingers as they tapped absent mindedly against the edge of the table. "What?" he asked, his head turning between Buffy and Giles. Buffy shot him a warning look, and he quickly quietened down again, even his fingers freezing in place.

The silence lingered for several uncomfortable moments until it was broken by Cordelia. “Well here's a surprise,” she started, the second she had entered through the library doors. She stopped a few feet in, leaving the rest of her thought unvoiced. She looked about, her eyes wandering between the piles of books, weapons, and spell ingredients that littered the tables and floor. “Wait. Is there about to be a battle here? Because if there is I can totally come back in ten minutes.”

“Been and gone,” Oz commented.

"Yeah, it looks it," she said, nodding her head as she took a second glance over the room. "How'd it go?"

“Generally speaking?” Buffy asked. “It sucked.”

“Oh,” Cordelia said, sounding a little disheartened. “You weren't hurt, were you?”

Buffy was about to respond, surprised that Cordelia had actually managed to sound concerned, but she quickly realized that the question was aimed at Wesley.

Wesley also noticed that Cordelia's gaze was on him, and he became instantly flustered. “N-no. Err, not at all. In fact, I'm – yes, I'm very well thank you.”

“His valiant position of cowering behind Willow pretty much kept him safe from any chance of actual danger,” Xander piped up.

“That was not cowering. I was merely ensuring that nobody attacked us from behind.” He gave a brief nod, almost as if he was agreeing with himself. “Strategy,” he began slowly as he raised a finger to the air, “is the key to victory.”

“Yeah? Well there wasn't a whole lot of that today,” Buffy said, her disappointment obvious.

“Strategy?” he asked.

“Victory,” she snapped, irritated that he even had to ask.

Cordelia raised her eyebrows Buffy's way. “Well aren't we a sore loser.”

“Cordelia,” Buffy said, exasperated, “if you have something useful to say then say it. Otherwise please shut up or go away. Preferably both.“

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Grouchy much,” she muttered under her breath, and Buffy had to bite her tongue. “So anyway,” she said, seemingly unfazed by Buffy's words, “I was just on my way to The Bronze, and I figured you crazy party people would all be here. I was just wondering if anybody would like to accompany me?” Once again it was obvious that Wesley was the real target of the question, and Buffy found herself having to stifle a groan.

Wesley cleared his throat and straightened up, raising his previously slouched shoulders. “Well, yes, it would be my pleasure – I mean, I would be honoured.” His smile drooped. “U-unfortunately now is perhaps not an appropriate time.”

Buffy couldn't decide which one of Wesley and Cordelia looked the most disappointed, but it was hardly any concern of hers.

“Well if you change your mind I'll be there until closing time,” Cordelia said, flashing Wesley a toothy smile.

“Does anybody else really want to barf right about now?” Xander asked, earning a steely glare from Cordelia.

“Well, Xander, I'd ask if you wanted to join me, but oh – I'd rather drop dead.”

“Fingers crossed,” he shot back, holding his hand up in demonstration.

They silently glared at each other for a short time before Cordelia turned to leave. As she made her way out, Buffy found herself watching Faith out the corner of her eye. Faith was stood alone, silent and motionless at the side of the room. She had been that way since they had gotten to the library, her arms crossed tightly in front of her stomach and her eyes staring vacantly across the room.

“Now can we please get back to stuff that actually matters?” Buffy asked, raising her eyebrows at Giles to signal him to continue. She knew she had more than wigged out when she had lost her powers, and Faith did not look to be coping any better. Faith hadn't said a single word to her or anyone else on the way back, and everything Buffy could think to say to start a conversation felt uncaringly trivial. All she knew was that Faith's glassy eyed look and statuesque demeanour were starting to scare her. She hated that Faith was going through it, and all she could think to do was to make sure it was sorted out as soon as possible.

“Yes, right.” Giles stood up, a book loosely held in his hand. “Well there's little of use in here,” he said, holding it up briefly before letting it fall back to the table. “What we do know is that the shards literally sap the energy from a person, usually until there's nothing left but an empty shell. It's unheard of, but it seems that it has taken away whatever it is – the essence, if you will – that gives Faith her abilities. It's lucky that she is a Slayer, a-and that the contact with the shard was limited, otherwise she likely wouldn't have survived at all.”

“OK, I get that,” Buffy said, really not wanting to hear about how things could be worse. “But how do we fix it?”

There was a telling pause before he responded, and he used the time to remove his glasses. “I'm afraid I really don't know.” His gaze flicked to Faith for a split second. Faith seemed more alert, looking like she was paying attention for the first time. “But I-I'm sure something will crop up,” he added cautiously.

The sound of brisk footsteps grabbed Buffy's attention, and she found Faith making a hasty exit from the library. “Faith, wait,” she called after her, but Faith was quickly away through the library doors.

Buffy rose from her seat as she gave Giles a pleading look. “Find something,” she said, and then she took off after Faith.

“Hey,” she said when she finally caught up to Faith, matching the girl's quick pace as they both headed down the pathway leading away from the school.

Faith didn't say anything, and Buffy zipped in front of her, blocking her route and forcing her to a sudden halt. Faith tried to move around her, but Buffy stepped to her side, again cutting her off. “Faith,” she said gently.

Faith looked away to the side, her hand moving up to stroke the back of her neck. She took a deep breath, the air escaping instantly as a laugh croaked from her throat, brittle and stunted.

“I know this is horrible,” Buffy said. “But you don't have to go through it alone.”

Faith looked back, her bottom lip continuing to tremble even after she sucked it in. She continued to avoid Buffy's gaze, instead focusing down on her held out palms. “This is all I've ever had,” she said, her strained voice difficult to make out even against the quiet surroundings. She squeezed both her hands shut before her eyebrows pinched together disapprovingly. “It's all I am.” Her voice cracked, the words coming out shrill and piercing, and Buffy winced in sympathy.

Faith continued to stare at her fists as if she was waiting for them to regain their strength. Buffy found herself reaching out to gently unclench each finger with her thumbs, and she could feel Faith's hands shaking ever so slightly. Faith didn't fight the action, her only movement coming from her teeth as they bit at her bottom lip, and Buffy took the girl's hands into her own.

“Faith, look at me.”

It took a moment, but when she finally looked up Buffy could see that Faith was trying desperately to hold herself together. The eyes that had been still and vacant only minutes ago in the library now jittered about restlessly, unable to stay in place long enough to meet Buffy's look with more than a passing glance. Buffy gave Faith's hands a gentle squeeze. “If anyone can figure this out, it's Giles,” she promised with all the belief she could muster.

“And if he can't?” Her eyes stilled, staring at Buffy. They begged and pleaded for a comforting response. For a glimmer of hope. For anything. Buffy wished that she could find the words Faith needed to hear, but she didn't have the answers. Unable to bare looking into the distraught eyes any longer, she pulled Faith close and wrapped her arms protectively around the other girl's body. Her hand slowly stroked the back of Faith's head, trying to soothe away the troubles. She felt Faith's shallow breaths against her neck, and each one made her feel more and more useless.

“It'll be OK,” she cooed into Faith's ear. “You'll see. It's all going to be OK.”

She felt Faith tense, and she quickly loosened her grip when the girl tried to pull away. “Faith, what is it?” she asked, worried that she'd overstepped her boundaries or said something to upset her. However she quickly realized she wasn't the focus of Faith's narrowed eyes, and she turned to see who or what was.

A large group approached them from the street, moving softly but swiftly through the shadows like a pack of wolves stalking their prey. Quentin Travers, acting as the alpha male, was placed centrally while three others in suits marched around him. The remaining four, two placed each side of the group of watchers, were dressed much more scruffily – and armed with an assortment of weapons.

Quentin spoke up in an all-business manner as he came to a stop across from them. “Faith Lehane. I believe you already know why we are here so I won't tire you with the formalities. Suffice it to say, you are going to have to come with us.”

Faith looked too tired, too broken, for any new signs of worry to make themselves known. Buffy gently pushed her arm to urge her back. Faith complied, though she didn't move far. Buffy took several steps toward Quentin, positioning herself in the line of sight between him and Faith. "Not now," she warned, her voice low as she spoke through clenched teeth.

“Ms Summers. I suggest you take your leave. This matter is between Faith and the council. It does not concern you.”

“Faith is with us now. She's back on board, OK? There's no need for any of this.”

A grim smile crossed his face. “I'm afraid it's not that simple. The council have been willing to overlook your questionable attitude on the account that you were still doing your job. Faith, however, has not been towing the line. Indeed she has crossed it entirely, and to that end she must return to England.”

Buffy slowly shook her head as she moved even closer. “No. You have exactly two options. The first option, you walk away right now and we can pretend this never happened. Or option two, you can leave here with my boot firmly placed up your British ass.”

He gave her a mocking smile. “Whilst it is true that we may not be much of a match for you, it would appear to me that Faith isn't feeling quite herself at the moment. I'm sure neither one of us wants to see her caught in the crossfire.”

She frowned briefly, wondering how he could have known that. It had to have been Wesley, she decided, for a lack of other options. “I could snap your neck before you took two steps,” she shot back, fire heating her voice. She moved farther forward until she was face to face with him.

He didn't back down, which only irked her further. “Quite. But you won't.” He nodded behind her, and she glanced around. Her worries increased tenfold at the sight before her. Two more of the council's thugs had Faith surrounded. One held a knife, but even more worryingly the other was brandishing a small firearm.

The larger of the two men waved his knife threateningly in front of Faith's face. The tip of the blade swayed back and forth, hovering dangerously close to her eye. Faith kicked out without warning, catching him straight between the legs. He dropped to his knees with a groan, his hands moving down far too late to protect himself. His knife fell from his grasp, clattering against the concrete and bouncing away. She spun to face the other man, but the butt of his gun struck her face before she could attack. The blow sent her down to her knees, and Buffy sprang to life. She dashed forward, but couldn't close the distance before the man levelled his gun at Faith's head, the barrel resting against the side of her scalp.

Buffy froze mid-step. Faith's eyes had darkened, looking more intense than scared. There wasn't a great deal of distance left between herself and Faith, and Buffy's first instinct was to try and knock the gun from the thug's hand before he could use it. She couldn't bring herself to do it though; not when the risk was Faith's life. Instead she could only stand there and watch helplessly as she tried desperately to think up a plan.

Her eyes pierced right through the man as she put the theory that looks could kill to the test. Had it been true, there would have been little more of him left than a smear on the concrete. “Take me,” she said suddenly, turning back to Quentin. “You're right, Faith doesn't even have her powers. She can't help you. I can do whatever you need.”

The condescending look on Quentin's face told her everything she needed to know before he had even uttered a word. “That's very considerate of you, but also entirely irrelevant. Faith is the active slayer. She will be of use to us, one way or the other.”

“Please, don't do this.” She didn't know if he actually had a heart to appeal to, but she was lacking other options and willing to try anything. She knew he wasn't just going to take Faith away; he was going to make everything worse. Every effort they'd both made – were both still making – would be for nothing. Even if they let her go later, it would be too late. Faith would be gone.

“I'm sorry. I'd rather it hadn't turned out this way.” The lack of emotion in his half-hearted apology showed that he was clearly unmoved by her plea.

Buffy balled her fists as he casually nodded to his thugs. It took every ounce of her restraint not to rush forward and knock the nonchalant look right from his face.

With Faith in tow, pulled along by her arm while the gun stayed pressed against her skull, the men circled around Buffy, keeping their distance as they passed. They joined the other members of the council and, following behind Quentin, they began to lead Faith away. Buffy could do nothing more than watch them go, and for the first time she noticed the line of cars parked alongside the school.

Faith looked back over her shoulder, catching Buffy's gaze before she was bundled into the back seat of one of the cars. No sooner had the door closed, Buffy was running at top speed as she headed back toward the school building.

She stormed into the library, the doors flying open as she barged through. She scanned the room until she found who she was looking for. With just as much pace she moved to her target, grabbing Wesley by the scruff of his collar and forcing him back against the nearest wall.

“Buffy!” Giles yelled in alarm as he jumped to his feet.

“Where would they take her?” Buffy shouted over him.

“W-where w-would who take--,” Wesley stammered, his eyes and mouth both hanging open.

“The council have Faith. Where would they take her?”

“I-I don't know.”

She pulled him forward and then drove him back into the wall. “Wrong answer.”

Wesley's brow furrowed, and he took a huge gulp of air. “They came by plane, b-but if they wanted to take Faith out of the country th-they'd likely have to go by sea.”

She glared at him, her racing pulse urging anger through her veins as she studied his face for signs of deceit. “You had better be right.” She let the threat hang in the air before shoving him back one final time and turning to Giles. She saw the expression on his face, his eyes almost as wide as Wesley's, but paid it no notice.

“I didn't know they were coming,” Wesley tried to explain.

Buffy ignored him. “Let's go,” she said to Giles as she briskly moved past him.

----------

“I think this is as close as we're going to get,” Giles said. The car slowed to a halt next to the traffic barrier that guarded the entrance to the docks.

“Right.” Wasting no time, Buffy shoved the car door open and climbed out.

“Now, Buffy, remember that these aren't demons you're fighting, they're people.“

“They're not people; they're vultures.” She slammed the door shut behind her and started heading toward the dock. Giles was quickly out the other side, his legs hurrying to keep up.

“Buffy, I think perhaps you need to calm down. I know you're--”

“No, Giles, you have no idea.” She stopped and turned on him, unleashing the anger that had continued to build up on their way there. “The council think they can just play with other people's lives and get away with it. Well we're not your puppets, or your weapons. We're not here to live and die at your beckon call. So I will do whatever I have to do, and if you have a problem with that then I strongly suggest you wait in the car.”

Her eyes dared him to challenge her. When he didn't respond, she started walking, leaving him stood behind. Even when we called out her name she didn't slow; worry and anger drove her onward. Nothing was going to get in her way. She hadn't fully considered how far she was willing to go, but she knew she wouldn't have to wait long to find out.