Chapter Three
The Warrior
3.1.2113 8:27 AM
There she lay, naked - stripped of everything she'd been feeling, happiness, joy, elation, relaxation. Things she hadn't felt, truly felt, since before she'd received her calling to her responsibilities as the Slayer - and now, here she was, oblivious to her surroundings, the people surrounding her, the world. Her blonde hair seemed to billow in the soft butterfly kisses of the supernatural gusts coming from the waning golden glows of the vanilla, jasmine, and incense spell candles. She acknowledged the witchcraft. Then the darkness, the solitude, the feeling of heavy responsibility. Suddenly it hit her. She was back. It wasn't like the first time, either. This was an actual funerary and resurrection chamber. She turned her head, and her hazel eyes met with a pair of shocked crimson, brown, and a pair of shocked cobalt ones. The owners of those three sets of eyes bowed before her, and fell to one knee, showing their highest regards to the Slayer. And then the piercing, icy blue eyes she'd not forgotten, that had been haunting her, since the day she'd 'left'...again.
"Spike?"
~*~
My crimson eyes darted back to Spike, and I saw him let out a breath I was sure he never knew he'd been holding. A single tear fell from the corner of his eye and he stepped forward. I caught his eye, and he nodded. I stood, grabbed my pack from against the wall to my left, and pulled out the black jumpsuit I'd managed to smuggle from the munitions depot back at the base, should any of us ever need it.
"Buffy..." he breathed. "I'm so sorry, pet. I know I told you I'd let you rest, but..."
I watched in awe as she silenced him with a trembling kiss. Even though it was barely a touch, I could feel the sparks between the two of them...the electricity seemed to ignite the whole room into flames. I know Shalimar and Isabelle felt it as well. Their ragged breaths told me enough.
The Slayer pulled her lips away from her vampire lover and pulled him to her in a passionate embrace.
"Spike..."
I saw him shudder in the waning candlelight and I sighed to myself.
'If only I could've been loved like that...' I thought. I cleared my throat lightly, and Spike righted himself slowly. He grabbed the slayer by the shoulders and turned her around, half-hiding her vulnerable form behind him.
"Ladies, meet the Slayer. You'll 'ave to forgive 'er if she's a bit timid..," she wrapped her arms around his waist and hid her face in the middle of his back. I shot a sideways glance at the curious Wiccas at my side, who were straining their necks to try and get a look at the mythical warrior. I cleared my throat and shifted facades, shooting daggers at them from behind my golden eyes. They settled down, and I changed faces once again, glancing fleetingly at the obviously frightened figure behind our vampyric leader. Spike nodded at me and glanced somewhat behind him before shifting his gaze back to me. “Rayvin…”
I knew what he wanted before he even motioned for the jumpsuit. I nodded and moved to hand it over to him, but he stopped my hand halfway.
I had thought I knew what he’d wanted…
“Rayvin, come ‘ere, pet…” I moved closer, confusion plain on my face. “Buffy, this is Rayvin.”
The Slayer looked up at me briefly, before her eyes fell back on Spike, the questions plain on her face.
“She’s a vampire too, luv. Has been for quite awhile…and she’s the only one I’ve trusted my life to since…” Spike trailed off and I could tell his mind had gone back to the days when things were ‘normal.’ Oh, how I longed for those days as well… “Rayvin, help me out here a bit…”
“Buffy?” I tried out my voice, a timid fragileness echoing in the midst of fierce concentration, - on what, I wasn’t sure, - and a tiredness I hadn’t realized was there until I had just spoken. But something in my voice had garnered her attention, because she turned her eyes to me, along with her undivided attention. “I’m sorry we had to bring you back…We sure as hell wouldn’t‘ve if it could’ve been avoided…but we’re on the verge of losing this War…
“A lot of things’ve changed since you…died,” Buffy blanched, but held her gaze to me nonetheless. “And you should know about everything. You’ll learn about all of it later, I’m sure, but for now, you should know that all of the creatures you knew to fight - the demons, vampyres, an’ what-all else - are now integrated into society…or what we have left of it…”
“Is…is the apocalypse here?” She inquired timidly, her hazel eyes sparking to life as she asked about the Final Battle everyone knew was to come.
“Not yet, but we all can feel it comin’.”
“You’re…Irish?”
I nodded. “From Belfast, yes; I’s turned in 2010…And I’m one-hundred and three years old, in Vampyre years, that is…”
“One…hundred and…three?” A shock registered on her face, and then a flush took over, marring her features. “I’ve been gone over a hundred years here?” Her voice was a hushed whisper.
“Yes, pet,” Spike chose to speak once again. “Over a hundred years.”
To my left, a throat cleared. I turned my head. Shalimar. Her chocolate brown eyes were glaring at me with jealousy.
“Excuse my manners, Slayer,” I said, turning back to the blonde before me. “You may want to put this on…” I handed Buffy the black jumpsuit and she accepted it gratefully. I helped her into it, and received hateful glares from the two Wiccas.
“And…” she looked up from the buckles she was busy adjusting. “I’d like you to meet our team of mages - they’re both Wiccas, by the way - Shalimar Mira and Isabelle Morough.” I motioned to the two witches and each stepped forward to shake the Slayer’s hand as I spoke their names. Shalimar raked a hand through her blonde hair nervously and stepped closer to my side. Buffy glanced at Shalimar’s strange actions and then back at me. Isabelle handled her nervousness by simply shifting her weight from foot to foot, her brunette hair swaying with the motion.
"So...you two are the Witches..." Buffy murmured, more to herself than anyone, but I nodded anyway. Next she motioned towards me. "And you're the best friend...of the vampire."
Isabelle and Shalimar were confused, but I knew exactly what Buffy was trying to do...she was trying to form a new Scooby Team in her mind. New characters, yes, but still the same roles. I grinned at her to show her I knew what she was thinking...and she warmed up a bit. She opened her mouth to say something, but shut it just as quickly.
"What is it, Buffy?" I whispered as I walked up to her to "help" her with the buckles on the jumpsuit. She shivered and I shrugged off my flack jacket, and held it up to her. She cocked her head to the side and then allowed me to help her put it on.
"Your smile...it reminds me of...of Willow. My best friend from..." her voice wavered, even though it was nothing more than a whisper. I held up a finger to my lips.
"I know...about Willow. I don't know everything about your...old life. But I know enough to get me by for now. You don't have to explain to me. Everything will unfold in time that's meant to come...and if your past happens to be a part of it, then I'll just wait. Only speak when you're ready. Our squad isn't that pushy, and if you need space, just say the word, and you'll have all the space in the world. Metaphorically speaking, of course."
Buffy was silent as she took it all in and zipped up the jacket. She glanced at the black muscle tank I wore and then down the length of my arms. She looked up quickly.
"You're tanned..."
"Yeah," I replied. "We've developed a manner of tanning without the ultra violet light that was needed back then. It uses things called solarradiation waves, which is sort of in between the ultra violet and the rest of the rays that were known about back in the early 2000's. For some reason, the rays aren't harmful to us...and we've been trying to develop a way to shield the world from the UV rays and filter them out, and at the same time let the SR rays in...so that we can walk around in the daytime and not be bothered by our - heh - 'allergy.'
"But anyway, most of us are required to use the SR beds to get a good enough skin tone so that we blend into the darkness a bit better. There's also a bit of a spell that's been integrated into the beds that makes us semi-invisible in the darkness...so we hardly ever get caught."
I gave a mischievous grin and Spike walked over to the two of us.
"Are we ready, ladies?" Spike grinned, wrapping his arms around the Slayer's thin waist. I nodded in reply.
"I'm good. Buffy? You okay to go?" I gazed at her, an unsure and timid feeling hitting my senses. I was sure Spike had felt it too...
"Yeah...I suppose. Let's get out of here." Buffy looked down at the ground and then squeezed Spike's hand before he kissed her cheek, turned back to Shalimar and Isabelle, and left the Slayer and I to ourselves. We were silent as we waited - side by side - for the other three to hurry up and get done with their duties. Once they had gathered their things, Spike took the lead once more, Shalimar and Isabelle took up a quiet conversation in the middle of us, and Buffy and I brought up the rear slowly, keeping our own conversation private and for our ears only.
"So," Buffy glanced down at my jacket she still wore, and I stole a glance at her in turn. She was investigating my insignia, pins, and the identification patch on the outside of the jet black flack jacket. "Doherty? Rayvin Doherty? Is that it?"
I couldn't help but let out a short laugh. "No...Rayvin's just my nickname, like Spike is to him..," I pointed ahead of us at the bleached head a long way in the lead. "My real name's simple…if you’re of Gaelic background, I suppose. My name is Nuala Doherty.”
“Noola? 'S a bit strange, don't'cha think?"
"Not for my people. For yours, it would be a bit out of this world...but for mine, it was perfect." I replied dreamily.
"Tell me about...you. Not the vampire you, but the human you...what were you like? Did you have kids? Brothers? Sister...?" She trailed off and I took a deep, calming breath.
"The real me is what you want, 's that right?" Buffy nodded and gazed into my crimson eyes. I glanced back into her own hazel orbs and took another unneeded breath. "All right. I was born in Belfast. A little cottage by the waterfront. I had two sisters and a brother. Me parents died when I was ten. Me brother, who was seventeen at the time, took over takin' care of us. Makin sure we stayed out of trouble. Only problem was, he couldn't stay out of trouble himself. He kept bein' brought home by the police...all sorts of messed up...Downin' two pints in five minutes is not of the good, for future references, Slayer."
Buffy's jaw dropped. "So what happened then?"
"Wha' 'appened then, eh? Well, he got tossed in the slammer, and he weren't ever released until he was in his sixties. But, that's the price he paid, killin' them two innocents in the car wreck he caused...Ah...nothin' more there," I paused, trying to recall my brother's face. It wouldn't come, so I continued. "I took the pledge - haven't touched a drop of liquor since I's sixteen. And I hadn't wanted to...well, until recently." I motioned about in the darkness at the empty tunnel as we continued to push onward through the slop in Sunnydale's sewer system.
"I think I could understand that. This place...gives me the wiggins..." Buffy grumbled, drawing nearer to my side. I grinned and threw a comforting arm around her shoulders.
"No worries, mate. We'll be back with the Crew in no time!" I reassured her. "They always bring me out of me stupors!"
"Can I ask you...another question?" She spoke timidly.
"'Course, Slayer. I'm not gonna bite," I pulled my arm away from her torso and gazed at her tiny frame. "No pun intended there." I added, taking in the shocked look on her features.
"Oh, of course not...um...what's the gig with your eyes, Rayvin? Why are they red like that?"
I grinned. "Ah...the red eyes are my favorite part of being a part of this War. I had surgery on them to enhance my vision. I run point for the Crew and give them a bit of insight as to who's coming. My gig in this group is that I'm on the alert 24/7, as we used to say, ready to intercept anyone or anything that's ready to attack or is moving in on us. If you were able to see through my eyes as well, you'd be able to see a targeting sight. I can target and get off accurate firing up to two hundred meters...and that's only the end of my effective lethal range. I can fire up to four hundred meters and still injure a person...but then, that all also depends upon the weapon of choice as well.
"I assume you're gonna be using the weapons of lore, Slayer?" I inquired as I pulled a stockpiled crossbow and a quiver - full of wooden arrows - out of my bag of tricks. I slung the bag back over my shoulder and handed the weapon to the Slayer. She looked it over as if processing every niche, every mark on the object.
"Hasn't been used much, has it?" She inquired, more to herself than me. "Not much scarring on the wood...from backfires and use..." She rambled on, talking about how much the weapon hadn't been used and how to use it.
"Familiar with it, are we, Slayer?" I grinned at her recognition of the weapon which had, in legends, become second nature to her, much like her wooden stakes...
"Much. I...I had one of these. Back with...Giles...and Willow...and Xander...and...and Dawn...Oh my god...Dawnie..." I think it was then that it actually hit Buffy that her sister was no longer here for her. I came to a halt and grabbed Buffy before she fell to her knees in the river of sewage that swelled up to our ankles.
"Shh...it's okay, Buffy. Whatever you need, I'm here for you. You can always talk to me about anything, all right?" The Slayer nodded in reply and slung her arms around my neck. I tapped into Isabelle's thoughts.
'Isa...'
'What is it, Ray?'
'Slow up Spike a bit. Tell him he's needed back 'ere...Now...'
Isabelle flung herself around to glance back at us. I flashed golden eyes at her and she darted up to get the attention of the Vampire in the lead. Finally he turned, his eyes wide, and raced back to us, siphoning the disgusting water to either side as he ran.
"Buffy, what's wrong, pet?" His eyes were filled with sympathy for the Slayer...his Slayer. I saw it there. The love, the will to protect her from anything at all costs - even if it meant his death to accomplish it.
"Dawnie..." Buffy sobbed. "I want Dawnie..."
As Spike tried to console her, Shalimar and Isabelle came to stand beside me. Spike held her close, stroking her golden locks as he tried to calm her. It was then that the two Wiccas and I realized exactly what love was. It was the need to feel something so real, so extreme that one would give anything - even one's life, or in this case, unlife, to save the other from humiliation or suffering of any kind. Not that that was of any use here, but the meaning in Spike's gestures, the feeling in his words went beyond words to me, at least.
And it was clear to me that whatever these two shared went beyond love, beyond adoration, and beyond any other word associated with love which came to mind. These two were attached in more ways than one...and that was something that I wished I had going for me. Or at least coming to me in the near future...
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