Wearing Masks (Part 10)

Disclaimers

Legal:All characters are (c) Joss Whedon, Fox, Mutant Enemy and probably a whole mess of other people. No infringement of copyright intended.

Archive:Go right ahead. Just let me know, please

Spoilers:All the way up to "Who Are You?"

Summary:Buffy is Faith, and Tara is . . .

Rating:R (MPAA) - violence, language, f/f concepts

Notes:Faith (in B's body) and Buffy (in Faith's) are locked in battle with the Mayor. Unfortunately, only Faith is in possession of her Slayer powers.

Notes 2:I'd like to say a quick 'thank you' to my beta-readers, Anne and Sean.

The vamps let go. Thank Christ, they let go.

The burning rag lands silently in the spreading pool of gasoline. There's only a whisper of sound as the gas ignites, blue flames racing across the floor. I hurl myself backward, but even with my reflexes I feel the heat wash over my boots and jeans, fire catching in the gas-stained denim.

Only one of the vampires gets out in time. The other two, far more flammable than me, are roasted in moments.

I hit a dry bit of the floor and roll, hearing a hollow bang as the can on the floor goes off in a miniature explosion, throwing burning gas and twisted metal around the room. Something hits my arm, but not hard enough to do any more than sting.

I keep rolling, grabbing at a jacket someone left slung over the back of a chair. The chair falls, but the jacket comes free, and I use it to smother the small flames still burning on my jeans. I'm really wreckin' B's wardrobe, here.

I nearly scream as I come to my feet, and I have to fight down the urge to black out. The gash in my stomach hurts like hell and I am damn tired of people trying to gut me. Since when did vamps start carrying knives, anyway? About the only consolation is that B's gonna end up with a bitchin' scar, just like mine.

There's only one vampire left standing, and I go for him fast, before the wound makes me any weaker. Out of the corner of my eye I see B head for the Mayor, who has been keeping well outta harm's way, so far. Without her powers, she's gonna be in trouble if they actually tangle. I just hope the Mayor buys her bluff and keeps backing off.

Then the vampire's leaping at me, swinging punches at the bloody wound on my side, and I'm far too busy to worry about B. I just hope Willow's okay.

This vamp is tougher than the average; no surprise, really, since he's the last one standing; and I'm not at the top of my game. I get a good blow into his face, but take an elbow in the gut to do it. For a moment, the pain's so bad that it feels like my whole body's gonna shut down. But instinct takes over, and I push him back, opening up a little space.

There are small fires all over the room, by now. A lot of the gas has burned off, but there's enough wood and cloth around that the flames have caught. I guess that's a good thing for us, when it comes to killing the Mayor, but it's also filling the room with smoke, which is gonna slow me down a lot more than the vamp I'm fighting.

We lunge into the fight again, swinging fists and knees and elbows. I know I need to take him down fast, but he knows it too, and he's fighting smart. Pain and smoke are making me just that little bit slower than usual, and it's getting worse. All he has to do to win is stay alive a little longer. I know it, and I can see from his face that he does, too.

What he doesn't know is how far I'm willing to go to win. I plunge forward, grabbing at his jacket. The move leaves me wide open, and he jabs a fist into my gut. Pain hammers through me, and my knees buckle, but that's okay: I just have to make sure my hands stay clenched.

B's body doesn't weigh all that much, but I'm betting that having it suddenly hang off you while you're off-balance is a rude surprise. Sure enough, the vamp topples, and we both crash to the ground. It hurts like hell, but I knew it was coming.. That gives me an edge, and I recover slightly faster than fang-boy. I swing my weight, rolling him sideways while he's still surprised. Heat washes over my back, and then I roll again.

Straight into a fire.

----------

The vamp beneath me lasts just long enough to howl with pain, and then he's nothing more than burning ash in my hands. I throw myself out of the flames, fighting back my own screams. I'm a mess, and there isn't a part of me that doesn't hurt, but I stagger to my feet, ignoring the pain flaring in my freshly burned hands.

I'm just in time to see the Mayor grab B and throw her backward. I guess he figured it was a bluff, after all. B hits the floor and skids along it, nearly slamming into a desk. I start forward, I'm too far away: without either of us close enough to keep him under pressure, the Mayor thrusts a hand inside his coat and drags out a gun.

This is not good.

I freeze. B, halfway through standing up, does the same. The Mayor smiles, but it's a little tight, a little forced.

"You know, girls." He says brightly, his eyes cold, "I really don't care for violence. It's so . . . crude. But honestly, you leave me no choice."

I gauge the distance between us, figurin' whether I can get to him before he blows me away. The answer ain't good. Even if I was at full strength, it would be risky, and I'm a long way from my best.

"I must say, I didn't expect you to get your powers back this fast." He keeps the gun trained on me, apparently confident that B isn't a threat. "Though I did think you'd come back with your Council friends, so I guess that balanced out quite nicely." He shrugs, "I'd hoped to avoid shooting you. The paperwork is really quite tiresome, I understand. But with a little help, I rather think this fire you started could neatly destroy the evidence." He nods at the second can of gas, which is still safely sitting on the counter.

"You didn't get what you wanted though, did ya?" I manage to answer his smile with a smirk of my own. "You won't get Red, now."

"No matter. There are other ways of getting into the Watcher's Council."

B and I simply stare at him, stunned, and he chuckles.

"The Council?" B blurts at last.

"Indeed." He nods, "They've had their eyes on your young friend for a while. Once I had her body, it would have been child's play to enter their ranks. Within ten years, I could have been one of their most senior members."

"I don't get it." I shrug, "What have the Council got that you couldn't get as Mayor?"

"Why, the Slayer, of course." He smiles brightly, "Working with you was a pleasure, Faith, but when it came down to it, you weren't good enough. You never were."

He's deliberately taunting me, and I fight down a wave of anger. It's easier than I expected: probably because I'm started to feel numb from the blood loss.

"So you figured that sooner or later a new Slayer would be called .. . ." B says slowly, "What then?"

"Oh, it could have been you, my dear." The Mayor waves his free hand, "No need for anyone to die. It's not just your friend's magical skills that interest the Council, you see. They thought recruiting her as a Watcher would help them to bring you back into the fold, so to speak."

"You were going to be my Watcher?" B looks sick. Can't say I blame her.

"Exactly." He shrugs, "Of course, I'll need a new plan, now. But it's time to end this little chat."

He sights the gun carefully at my chest. I try desperately to think of some way to distract him; something I can say to delay things a little longer; but I'm comin' up blank.

The gun goes off, and there's a scream.

----------

It's the Mayor who screams, his hand jerking as he fires. The bullet whines over my head as he staggers backward, his body convulsing. The gun goes off a second time, blowing the corner off of a desk, but by then I am running for the can of gas, trying to ignore the burning in my gut.

I haul the can off the counter just as the Mayor convulses again, reddish smoke now streaming from his mouth and eyes. I rush forward, barely glancing at the corridor to the cells, where Willow and Amy now crouch, the latter feverishly casting the spell to force the Mayor from his stolen body.

Suddenly, the stream of smoke stops, and the detective's body tumbles backward, leaving the cloud coiling and pulsing in mid-air. It seems chaotic, and disorganised, though I can almost see the Mayor's distorted features in it.

Xander and B appear out of nowhere, dragging the detective's body toward the door as I spin the top from the can of gas and dump the whole thing on the floor under the cloud. There's no time for finesse, so we'd better hope good old brute force works. Gasoline glugs steadily out of the can as I back away quickly.

I nearly trip over a wastebasket, curse loudly, and then notice that the contents are burning nicely. With a grin, I snatch it up; ignoring the heat of the metal on my sore hands; and hurl it toward the Mayor.

I don't know what I expected to happen when the flames roared up around him. Maybe for him to dissolve, with a squeal of "I'm melting!". What I didn't expect is what actually happens.

The red smoke ignites in a sudden fireball, flames rushing to every corner of the room. I hit the ground and cover my head, hoping the others were too far away for the flames to reach them. Heat washes over my back, but the flames don't come down far enough to reach me. Instead, they blow several panels out of the ceiling, reaching up into the roof.

I stagger to my feet, seeing the others do the same, and then all of us plunging out of the building with the fire on our heels, stumbling tiredly to the far side of the street, B and Xander still carrying the unconscious detective.

That's about when I pass out.

----------

"You can't be serious." B glares at the Detective, hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Completely." He says mildly, "After all, most of our evidence was destroyed when the station burned down four days ago. Besides, what we did have all pointed to you killing Ms Maclay. I can't very well arrest your friend for that."

"She's not my friend." Buffy snaps, glaring at me. We're back in our own bodies at last, but B doesn't like me any better for it. "Besides, she did plenty of other things in her own body. You could arrest her for those."

"Again," the Detective's voice grows tight, "any evidence we might have held was destroyed in the fire." I'd be willing to bet he's lying, and I think B knows it, but for some reason the guy seems to like me. Must be that whole saving-him-from-evil-possession thing.

"You're just protecting her because you think she saved your life." Looks like I was right about B seeing the lie. "She didn't do it for you, she did it to protect her own ass."

"Maybe." The Detective shrugs, "But even if I did arrest her, how long do you think we could hold her?"

When B doesn't have a ready answer for that, he turns and walks away. I try not to look too smug, but I don't try all that hard.

"You're not going to get away with this, Faith." She warns, her eyes slitted.

"If you're so worried about me getting' away with it, why don't you kill me?" I return her glare, "I may have my powers back, but we both know you're stronger and faster than I am at the moment. And we both know why. You put me in an eight-month coma, B. You got what it takes to take it a step further?" I soften my voice, "You got what it takes to be me?"

For a long moment, she's silent, and then her mouth firms.

"Just get out. I never want to see you again."

----------

It's been three months since I left. Three months since I took off back to Boston, leaving Willow Rosenberg with nothing more than a note to remember me by. That was rough on her, but I figured it would be best. I'd already done what I could to avoid her in the four days it took for B to kick me out of Sunnydale, because this way she could move on. At first, I started it with 'Will', but then I crossed that out and used the name that was mine.

Red,

B wants me out of town. Can't say I blame her.

So, I'm bailing. Heading back to the East Coast.

I guess I won't see you again. That's probably best.

It was fun while it lasted, but now it's over, y'know?

Faith.

Cold as ice, that's me. Use 'em and lose 'em. Of course, it woulda helped if I wasn't fightin' back tears as I wrote it. I was stupid to let her get to me the way she did. Stupid to think that I could make something like that work. When B told me to go, I knew it was over. I wanted to believe Red cared, but I figured there was no way she would choose me over all her friends. No way at all. It's funny; you'd think I would remember something I'd thought only a few days before . . .

# I shoulda remembered that night in City Hall, when she stood up to every threat I could sling at her. It never pays to underestimate Willow Rosenberg. #

I'm patrolling down by the river, near the Harvard Business School, when I see her sitting on a bench, watching the water go by.

My breath catches, and I almost turn and run. Then her head turns, and she looks right at me, and I know she's been waiting.

"Hey . . . " I manage, pitifully, while still wondering how my feet carried me to her. I don't remember telling them to.

"Hi." She seems composed, confident, and stands to face me.

"What . . . How . . . " I don't even know what it is I want to ask.

"I transferred to Harvard." She answers quietly. "At the end of the school year. I've been here nearly a week."

"But . . . why?" I try to get a grip, "B needs you back in Sunnydale –"

"Not anymore." She seems almost pleased by that, "Amy can deal with all the witch-y stuff, and it's not like I need to be there in person to deal with any hacking they might need."

"What about B? She's never gonna accept this -"

"It's not her life." Willow interrupts, then smiles slightly, "And it's been three months. She's had time to get used to the idea that I was leaving. They all have."

"But why did you . . . after I left that note . . ."

She laughs quietly,

"You can't fool a witch that easily, Faith. I could sense what you felt when you wrote it, even without a spell."

"I never could fool you, R-Will."

She smiles and shakes her head, leaning in to kiss me.

"Call me Red."