<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.0 Transitional//EN"><!-- saved from url=(0047)file://Q:\Jen\Documents\Forms\Docs\dominoff.htm --><!-- saved from url=(0047)file://Q:\Jen\Documents\Forms\Docs\dominoff.htm -->TITLE: Ghosts 3/?

AUTHOR: jodyorjen

RATING: NC-17

SPOILERS: AU Season 7, containing vague rumors and speculation.

DISCLAIMER: All hail Joss Whedon, UPN, the WB, FOX, Mutant Enemy and 20th Century Fox Film Corporation. GO team! Theirs, not mine.

DEDICATION: This one goes out to the one I love.    

AUTHOR"S NOTE: Angst, baby, with a bullet.

DISTRIBUTION: Please ask my permission first, just so I know where it’s headed. All of my stories may be found at http://www.willingslave.com

 

Faith was falling. Deep down, she knew that there was something wrong here. But she felt so calm, and safe, and secure. She didn’t want to listen to the nagging voice in her head.

 

Suddenly, she was in Buffy’s bedroom. “Someone’s sleeping in my bed,” Buffy said, putting her arm around Faith’s waist. Faith turned to look, seeing a nude man lying on his stomach.

 

“Do you know him?” Faith asked.

 

Buffy tilted her head. “I don’t think so.”

 

They watched him sleep for a moment. “He’s really hot,” Faith said. She slipped off her robe, leaving her standing there in a bra and garter belt. “Let’s get him, B.” She tugged on her friend’s hand, pulling her towards the bed.

 

“We can’t,” Buffy said, standing firm.

 

“Because it would be wrong?” Faith teased.

 

Buffy looked worried. “Because something is really wrong,” she said. “Wake up, Faith.”

 

“Don’t be a drag,” Faith said with a smile.

 

“Faith, wake up,” Buffy said seriously. She put her hands on Faith’s shoulders and shook her.

 

Faith opened her eyes and stared up at a white ceiling. She sat up in the bed and looked around. She felt awful, her mouth dry and her head throbbing. She looked down at the crumpled sheets next to her. A trail of blood was splashed across the bed, the shackles that had held William were broken open.

 

With a curse, she ran from the room. The door to the hotel room was wide open, and Faith went through it. She looked down the hallway, and looked at the elevator. Turning her head, she saw the staircase. Making a split second decision, she turned left and ran up the stairs. She shoved open the door and burst out onto the roof, the orange glow of sunset making her eyes tear.

 

William stood a few feet in front of her, wisps of smoke rising in the air. “You’re one

stupid, predictable, motherfucking idiot!” she yelled.

 

He turned to face her, his eyes wide with shock. “Faith!”

 

She rushed him and grabbed his wrist, pivoting and throwing him into the wall. He hit the concrete blocks with a crash. She took his throat in both hands and squeezed.

 

“I thought I killed you,” he wheezed. “Your heart stopped. I heard it stop.”

 

She slammed his head into the wall. “Do I look dead to you?” she snarled, smashing his head again.

 

 “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said. “I couldn’t help myself. I didn’t mean to hurt you. It was your scent, enslaving me, making me lose my mind.”

 

“I’m not angry that you bit me, I’m angry that you keep trying to kill yourself. You made me happy like I’ve never felt before in my entire horrible life, and now you’re just going to get dusty?”

 

“I made you happy?” he asked incredulously. She was overcome with a wave of dizziness, and she let go.

 

He reached out and caught her before she fell. “Stop catching me,” she said weakly. “Just let me fall.” William took her into his arms as she passed out.

****

 

Giles took a last spoonful of tiramisu. “Do you want a cup of coffee?” Buffy asked.

 

“That would be lovely,” he replied. She filled a mug and set it in front of him, along with a sugar bowl and a tiny pitcher of cream. He smiled up at her. “This was a wonderful meal, Buffy.”

 

She sat down at her place and smiled back at him. “Thanks! I’ve been working really hard on my domestic side this summer.”

 

“Well, it’s quite apparent,” he said kindly.

 

“We made up menu cards,” Dawn said. “Alternating each week. Buffy can now make twenty different entrees.”

 

Buffy blushed. “Some are easier than others. Once a week is pizza.”

 

“It’s really easy to make a pizza,” Dawn said excitedly.  “Xander bought us a bread machine, and you can make dough with it.”

 

“I have professional experience,” said Xander. “I sling a mean dough.” Dawn turned and smiled at him.

 

Buffy served herself some more tiramisu. “So, are you back, back now?” she asked Giles. “For good back?”

 

Giles nodded.  “I gave the tenant of my apartment one month’s notice. The reconstruction of the Magic Box is nearly complete, and I can begin having fittings installed in a few weeks. I’ve already ordered the new inventory, we should reopen for Halloween.”

 

“That’s great news,” Dawn said. “When is Anya coming home from Bath?”

 

Giles took a long sip of coffee. “She’s decided to stay at the estate indefinitely.”

 

“Why?” Buffy asked.

 

“She’s fond of my house, and selling off the Alexandrian collection alone could keep her occupied for years,” Giles said. “There’s a great deal of interest in the occult area of antiquarian books. Anya is very aware of it, and she’s willing to wait for the right buyers and travel across Europe to sell each volume, if it means the right price.”

 

“Doesn’t she want to come home?” Dawn asked.

 

“Not really,” Giles admitted. “She feels there’s nothing here for her any more.”

 

“But that’s stupid,” Dawn said adamantly. “She has all of us, and the Magic Box.”

 

“And the demon biz,” Xander said. “Let’s not gloss over that one.”

 

“She’s not active as a vengeance demon,” Giles informed the younger man. “She no longer finds it fulfilling.”

 

“So that’s one more person who is going to just disappear out of my life and never come back?” Dawn asked, hurt.

 

“You can call her in England,” Giles said. “She’s not gone.”

 

“On another continent, I think it’s safe to say she’s gone,” Dawn said. She folded her napkin and set it aside. “I need to go.”

 

“Don’t you want to stay and visit with Giles?” Buffy asked.

 

“I have plans,” her sister said.

 

“Okay,” said Buffy. She stood up and hugged her. “You’ll be back by midnight?”

 

Dawn kissed her sister’s cheek. “Yep. I have money, I have my cell. I’m cool.”

 

Buffy reached up and smoothed an errant lock of Dawn’s hair. “Have fun. Be careful.”

 

Xander stood up. “You need me to drop you at Janice’s?”

 

“Sure,” Dawn said. “That would be great.”

 

“Sorry to cut the party short, G-man,” Xander said. “It’s my mom’s birthday, and I have to go over there. I figure they’re both plastered by now, so I won’t have to stay long.” He turned to Buffy. “Want me to come back over after?”

 

Buffy shook her head. “Giles and I have a lot to catch up on.”

 

“Okay,” Xander said agreeably. “I’ll bring you girls some donuts in the morning then.”

 

“Great,” Buffy said. Xander hugged her tightly.

 

“Let’s go, Xan,” said Dawn.  She grabbed her purse and left, Xander following behind.

 

Buffy turned to Giles. “Okay, now tell me what is really going on with Willow. I’m totally not buying the ‘she’s just tired and jet lagged’ thing. Tell me what’s the matter with her.”

 

“It’s complicated,” Giles said. “Knowing the technicalities of it, won’t make the situation any better.”

 

“Stop being all wishy washy and tell me, Giles,” Buffy said. “I’m a big girl now. I can handle it.”

 

Giles took her hand and led her into the living room, sitting her on the couch. He filled two glasses with whisky and handed one to Buffy. “It can’t be that bad,” she said.

 

He sat next to her and set his glasses on the coffee table. He turned and looked at her, and she saw the pain and despair in his eyes. Slowly, she drank her whisky, shuddering slightly. Giles drank his as well, and took her hand. “She’s lost her soul,” Giles said softly. “We’ve tried everything, and we cannot bring it back.”

 

The color drained from Buffy’s face. “No,” she said.

 

“Magick has a price,” Giles explained. “She had to pay for what she did-“

 

“No!” Buffy cried out. “No.” She shook her head. Giles closed his arms around her and held her tightly, rocking her as she broke down.

 

*****

 

Dawn walked through the cemetery, stake in hand. She felt that tingling feeling in her hands and neck and turned, spearing a vamp through the heart. He dusted, and Dawn smiled in satisfaction. Someone grabbed her from behind, and she kicked him away. She jabbed her stake to the side and took out another, then and turned around and staked the one she had kicked to the ground.

 

She breathed heavily, enjoying the buzz that ran through her veins, the adrenaline high that was unlike almost anything in her life. She strode through the gravestones, and opened the door to a crypt. She stepped inside and fumbled in her jacket pocket for a lighter. She flicked it on and lit the pillar candles she had left on the floor. She stepped inside the circle and lit the very last one.

 

“I am the Key,” she said in ringing tones. She closed her eyes as the flames shot up in the air. “I am the bridge between the worlds. I command you to bring forth the one I seek.”

 

Swirling smoke coalesced in front of her, and a figure stepped forth. “Hey, Dawnie,” the shade greeted her.

 

Dawn opened her eyes and smiled. “Hey!” She tried to hug her, but passed through the figure.

 

 “You forgot to modify my ectoplasmic essence,” Tara reminded her.

 

“Right,” Dawn said. “Invocato substantio!” Tara’s shadowy form solidified, and Dawn hugged her.

 

“You want to pick up where we left off with the herbalism, or do you want to study some more spellcraft?” Tara asked.

 

“I had something else in mind,” Dawn said seriously. Tara looked at her expectantly. “Yahtzee!” She pulled the orange box out of her backpack.

 

Tara smiled. “Cool. I love that.”

 

*******

 

Faith opened her eyes and stared up at the white ceiling. The whir of machinery and the smell of disinfectant clued her in immediately to where she was. Panicked, she hit the call button over and over. A nurse ran into the room. “Oh, good. You’re awake. I’ll let the doctor know.”

 

“How long was I out?” Faith demanded frantically. “Was I in a coma?”

 

“You were admitted a few hours ago,” the nurse said. “You just need to stay overnight for observation.” Faith pulled the IV out of her hand and unfastened the monitors that were attached to her body. “You can’t do that, miss,” the nurse said.

 

“I can do whatever the fuck I want,” Faith informed her.

 

“We have procedures,” the nurse protested. “We have guidelines to be followed, for the safety-“

 

“My lawyer’s name is Lilah Morgan,” Faith said crisply. “Wolfram and Hart.”

 

The nurse blanched. “Fine, miss, I’m sure we won’t need to involve hospital administration.”

 

“Who brought me in?” Faith asked.

 

“You were left at the emergency room,” the nurse said. “We don’t have your contact or insurance information-“

 

“Send the bill to the firm,” Faith said. “Where are my clothes?”

 

The nurse pointed to the chair, where the terry robe from the hotel lay.  Faith rolled her eyes and grabbed the phone. She dialed a number and waited impatiently while it rang. “Lilah Morgan.”

 

“Hey. I’m at-” She turned and asked the nurse. “What hospital am I at?”

 

“Saint John’s,” the nurse supplied.

 

“I’m at Saint John’s. I need a car dropped off here for me and I want a set of clothes too. I’ve got no cash on me, nothing, so I need some, and a cell phone. Two, actually.”

 

“Sounds like you’re diving into the L.A. lifestyle,” Lilah said smoothly.

 

“Getting out of the hotel is kind of a nice change of pace,” said Faith.

 

“Your friend seems to think so too,” Lilah said. “He’s gone. We’ve got a couple of men out now trying to round him up.”

 

“How hard can it be to find him?” Faith said. “He looks like Freddy Krueger and he’s trying to off himself, or get someone else to do it. Shouldn’t be hard in L.A.”

 

“Find him,” said Lilah. “He’s your responsibility.”

 

******

A slight blonde figure in a flowing white robe stood before a large screen. She held her hand above the image of a barefoot figure running down a dark alley, dressed in a flapping white bathrobe.

 

“He is no longer your responsibility,” said a deep voice behind her.

 

“That’s not true!” Cordelia said adamantly. She spun to look at the tall horned demon.

 

“The Powers have removed him from your care,” Skip pointed out. “Your job is to facilitate and assist destiny, not to directly intervene. You crossed the line too many times for Spike.”

 

“What good would it do to just stand there doing nothing while he burns to a crisp?” Cordy asked.

 

“Your job is not to question the Powers,” he said. “As your superior, I am going to remind you, once

 again, that this decision is final. You are not to intervene in any way with this case.”

 

“He doesn’t know anything yet,” Cordelia argued. “He hasn’t been coherent long enough for us to explain anything about his soul. He has no idea of the limitations or ramifications-”

 

“He will learn them through the course of events,” her boss told her. “It is not in your hands to change the world. Eventually, you will appreciate the power that you hold, and be grateful for it.” He smiled at her gently. “You still think in human terms. With time, your scope will widen, and you will come to understand.” He patted her shoulder and disappeared.

 

Cordelia turned back to the monitor, her eyes fixed on Spike.

 

******

 

“Thanks,” Giles said, as Buffy fluffed the pillow and set it down on the couch.

 

“You’re the very first guest to try out the brand new sheets,” she said. “No more inflicting my childhood castoffs on you.”

 

He smiled. “I’m very grateful for the couch, whatever the linens.”

 

“There’s spare towels in the bathroom upstairs,” she said. “There’s lots of stuff in the hall closet if you’re missing anything.”

 

“Sleep well,” he said, as she dimmed the lights and walked upstairs. She brushed her teeth and washed her face in the bathroom. In her room, she changed into her nightgown, brushing her hair back and pulling it into a ponytail.

 

She climbed into bed and closed her eyes. She stared up at the ceiling, her mind swirling with Willow, bills, Dawn worry, and the Xander situation before she crashed into sleep, exhausted.

 

Buffy walked into the Bronze and pushed her way through the masses of people, finally making her way to the bar. Harmony smiled at her and handed her a glass of punch. “You’re finally here!” she said excitedly.

 

Darla passed her a plate of cookies. “It’s very impolite to show up late when you’re the guest of honor.”

 

Dru grabbed her hand and led her up on the stage. “Here she is, boys!”

 

Angel, Spike, Riley, and Parker were smoking cigars and drinking at a banquet table. “Slayer!” Spike said cheerfully. “We thought you weren’t going to make it.” He wore a “Hi! My name is” sticker on his shirt, with a large 4 written on it.

 

“There’s my girl,” said Angel heartily. He stood up and kissed her cheek. “We were just talking about you, baby.” He wore a badge too, with a 1 in bold red marker.

 

“Yeah,” Spike said. “I was telling them that you went down on me all the time. They didn’t believe me, said there’s no way you’d do something like that.” He laughed. “God, that was the least of what I got you to do, wasn’t it?”

 

“You must have gotten her really drunk,” Parker said. “When I was with her, she just sort of lay there.”

 

“Me too,” said Angel. “Much ado about nothing, really. Nothing to lose your soul over.”

 

Xander jumped up on the stage and put his arm around her. “Hey there,” he said. “Having fun?”

 

“I want to go home,” Buffy whispered.

 

“Party’s just getting started,” he said, surprised. He wore a badge like the others, a ? written across it.

 

“You could take her upstairs to the balcony, do her there,” Spike suggested.

 

“And be sure to tell her you love her,” Riley said. “That’ll really get her to open up.”

 

Angel laughed and slapped the other man on the back. “Damn straight.”

 

Xander helped her down from the stage and led her towards the stairs. Someone pulled on her wrist. She turned around to see Anya. The demon smiled and handed her a box of condoms. “Xander’s little swimmers work, so don’t forget the safe sex,” she said. “And I wanted to tell you, he really likes being on top, so definitely act like that’s your favorite. And he likes lots of noise, so be sure to have really, really loud orgasms.” Her face lit up. “Oh wait, let’s ask her.” She grabbed a passing girl. It was Faith. “Do you have any tips for Buffy? She’s going to have sex with Xander.”

 

“Don’t blink, you’ll miss it,” Faith replied. Something caught her eye and she smiled. “I’ve got to go. Spike’s waiting for his champagne.”

 

“Buffy? Buffy?” Buffy opened her eyes and looked up. Dawn stood at the foot of the bed. “I had a bad dream.”

 

Buffy scooted over and Dawn climbed into the bed. The sisters spooned together and went back to sleep.

 

*****

 

Faith walked out of the hospital and hit the button on the keychain that had been dropped off by the courier. The lights on a black Mercedes sedan blinked on and off. She walked towards it, when suddenly her neck tingled. She turned around and scanned the parking lot. She walked back in the direction that she’d come from, and spotted William in an alley, hiding behind a dumpster.

 

“What are you doing?” she said, grabbing his wrist and pulling him forward.

 

“I wanted to make sure you were going to be okay,” he said.

 

“Do you have any idea how stupid you look, standing in an alley in a bathrobe?” she asked him.

 

“I hadn’t really thought about it,” he said.

 

“Well, you look like an idiot,” she pointed out.

 

“I didn’t have any clothes in the hotel room, and I was more concerned with saving your life,” he snapped at her.

 

“You nearly killed me, didn’t you?” she asked. “I passed out, because you drained me.” She touched the bandage on her neck.

 

“That’s right, I did,” he said softly.

 

“Is it always like that, for you?” she asked. “Does it feel that good every time?”

 

He looked uncomfortable. “No. You’re a Slayer, that’s why I lost control like that. Your blood, it’s like the headiest wine, the smoothest drug.”

 

“You made me come,” she said. “Over and over. Without doing anything more than putting your  fangs in my neck.”

 

“I know,” he said. “I raped you, really. Stole your blood, used your body-”

 

She put her hands on his shoulders, running her thumbs along the rivulets of scar tissue that covered his collarbone. “It was great.”

 

He looked down at her, his face half cast in shadow. One side of his face was dark, the other harshly highlighted, showing every tracery of livid red and pallid white that disfigured his face. “You could have died.”

 

She opened the throat of his robe, her tongue sliding across his neck. He shuddered, his hand clenching on the leather of her jacket. “It was worth it.” She slipped her hand inside his robe and wrapped her hand around him. “You’re hard just thinking about it.”

 

“Yes,” he whispered. “I can’t help it. My demon, it craves your blood, and my body, it wants yours.”

 

She pulled open his robe and lifted her skirt. “Want,” she said in his ear. She wrapped her arms around his neck and sank down on his erect cock. He moaned, burying his face in her neck as he cupped her ass in his hands. “Take,” she said breathily, as she moved up and down, taking him in and out of her slick depths. He kissed her neck, murmuring softly as he thrust his hips against hers. “Have.” She pressed his neck, and he slid his fangs into her neck. They both cried out as her blood hit his tongue, their bodies accelerating as they careened towards release. His throat moved convulsively as he drank her blood. She pulled his mouth away from her neck, and their lips met in a greedy, passionate kiss.

 

They came as one, their bodies locking and stiffening as pleasure exploded between them. They kissed, the embrace slowly ending as Faith’s pulse returned to normal, her breathing no longer labored. She pulled away and straightened her clothes, then fixed his robe. They looked at each other for a long moment, each flustered and taken off guard by what had passed between them.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said finally.

 

“I’m not,” she said, smiling. Her eyes were bright, her color high. “I’ve never felt so alive.”

 

“You really are happy,” he said in amazement. “I thought I’d lost my touch in that department.”

 

“Never so good,” she said. “I feel like I have the world at my feet.”

 

He smiled back at her and took her hand. “Shall we hit the town then, Slayer?”

 

She laughed. “Yeah!” She took his hand in hers and they walked toward the car. “We should get you some clothes though. I don’t think we’ll get in anywhere good with you in a bathrobe.”

 

“Works for Hugh Hefner,” he said.

 

“He’s rich and powerful,” she replied.

 

“Whereas I’m neither, with an ugly mug to boot?” he said wryly.

 

She stopped and turned to him. “Anyone makes fun of you, I’ll snap their fucking head off,” she said, running her hand over his scarred cheek.

 

“I think you really mean that,” he said.

 

“You ain’t seen nothing yet, William,” she replied.

 

-TBC-

 

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