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I take a moment to gather my bearings, and decide it's probably best if I don't lose track of her. I could just see me somehow getting back to Sunnydale and arriving without B. I've always wanted to attend a crucifixion, but I'd rather it wasn't my own.

I get up and quickly chase after her, hoping she doesn't go too far. I'm too tired to be chasing anybody, much less an angry naked Slayer. When I catch up, she's standing at the mouth of another cave, glaring into the setting sun. I'm going so fast that I have to skid to a stop, and I almost crash into her. She looks back down towards me and bares her teeth.

I pinch my arm. I didn't think I was dreaming, but this is just too surreal to be reality. She takes a step back from me, growling low in her throat.

"Hey.. it's cool," I put my hands in the air to show her I'm weaponless, and try to stand still when she approaches and inspects me closely. I keep my eyes open, swallowing hard. I'd thought about seeing B naked before, of course, but this isn't exactly the way I pictured it. "It's cool, Buffy. See? No weapons."

She seems to believe me and gives me a final once-over before shuffling towards the cave. She pauses briefly and glances back. "Okay, follow the leader it is." I slowly follow her inside, looking around.

"Well, isn't this cozy?" I mumble. It looks like a more accurate portrayal of the Flintstones in here. No Woolly Mammoth dishwasher, but there's stones piled into what resembles some sort of furniture, and a ring of smaller stones marking off a fire pit of some kind. There's some dried animal skins draped over a few jutting stalagmites on the floor.

Buffy approaches the fire pit and picks up some of the silt in her fingers, sniffing it before touching it to her tongue. Maybe she's got the right idea. I glance around and there's some branches stacked neatly in a tiny alcove, so I go over and start collecting a few, much to her interest. "Obsessive-compulsive cave people, how do ya like that, B?" She grunts in response. What a shocker. "Well, I'm gonna get some fire going. Maybe now that you're all.. acclimated.. you could go conk a saber-toothed tiger on the head and get some dinner."

She looks at me like I'm insane, which is strangely comforting, since that's a look I've come to know well. I sigh and pile the wood carefully. "Guess those three days in Girl Scouts paid off after all." She doesn't look impressed. "Too bad I skipped the meeting where we learned how to start a fire without matches."

Oh, shit. Matches. I dig in my pocket quickly and pull out the half pack of matches and full pack of cigarettes, sighing with relief. They won't last forever, but hopefully the Scooby braintrust will get us the hell out of here sometime before forever. Buffy watches closely as I strike the match, lighting some of the leaves of one of the branches. It pops and crackles a bit before igniting, and Buffy nods her approval, unsurprised.

I light a cigarette and sit back on what I guess passes for a seat of some kind. Buffy lumbers over to me and sniffs the smoke, making a face. "Hey, that's the same face you make every time I light up. That's comforting in a creepy kind of way." I switch hands, keeping it out of her face, and pat my stomach. "Food? Is there food here?" She raises an eyebrow at me. "Hungry. Faith.. needs to eat."

She just stares at me before reaching across and batting the cigarette out of my hand, knocking it into the fire. "Fuck!" I cry out. God. I have a whole pack, but still. "Was that really neccessary?" I snap at her.

She looks back at me defiantly and points her finger at me. "Fuck!" she parrots, and heads out of the cave quickly. Great. She finally manages a word, and it's to insult me.

Typical.

I pretty much assume she'll come back at some point, maybe with something dead I can eat, so I lean back and light another cigarette. Something pokes me and I lean forward, reaching behind me and finding some kind of crude knife made of stone with a carved bone handle. "Hope you enjoyed nakey time, B. Cause when you get back, you're gonna wear something if I have to knock you out and glue it to you."

Not that I'm not enjoying the view, it's just hard to think with her streaking. I grab one of the animal skins, looks like it might be leopard or jaguar of some kind, and spread it onto the floor. Here's hoping my movie-based education doesn't fail me. I pull off the jacket I'm wearing and swing it over the stone seat and lean over, guessing for the most part at the measurements as I start cutting a medium-sized center hole.

I cut slowly into the skin, sweat beading on my forehead as I start cutting arm holes. It surprises me how easy it is to cut into the hide, and I catch myself thinking that I might make another one if we're stuck here long enough. Had to be a reason cave people wore this stuff, and pretty much anything would be more comfortable than these tight jeans at this point.

I sit back and admire my handiwork as Buffy comes back into the cave, with something dead on her shoulder. Well, part of something dead anyway. It smells pretty fresh as she hands it to me urgently. "Aw man, mom. Leftover prehistoric cow again?" She frowns and looks a little hurt. "Sorry, sorry. I know. I said I was hungry. And, hey, who knew you could get delivery out here?" I smile at her a little and set the--I'm guessing it's something's leg--down on the seat.

"Look, I made something while you were out hunting and gathering. And uh.. you're gonna wear it, even if you don't want to." She looks at me curiously and I pull over the skin, showing it to her. "See? Clothes. Keep you warm." She tilts her head and I sigh, putting it on myself as an example. She seems to get it, so I take it off and hold it out to her.

Buffy sniffs it a little and pulls it close to her chest, then puts her head through the neck hole. "Well, it's a little wide, but I guess I forgot that you having a big head was metaphorical." She sticks her hands through the armholes and smacks her palm against my forehead before turning towards the meat. I hold my head, a little stunned. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you were faking this whole thing. That would be so like you, to run around naked and grunt just so I wouldn't get pissed when you hit me."

Good to know when all else fails, I can still be logical.

 


 

A long time later, I'm leaning against the cave wall having a cigarette, much to Buffy's obvious disgust, my stomach slightly swollen from eating more than I've ever eaten in one sitting in my entire life. "Yunno, whatever that was, it was amazing," I tell Buffy, who doesn't look up from whatever she's doing. "Hey, what are you up to over there?" I scoot over a little and look down.

She's scraping a ridged stone over the biggest bone from dinner, sharpening the edge. "Well, I'll be damned. That's gonna be an awesome weapon." She glances at me with approval and goes back to whittling away the excess bone. "Hey, since.. I guess you.. forgot English or whatever, do you think you could grunt or something? I feel kinda stupid sitting here talking to myself. And it's.. yunno. Eerily quiet out here." She ignores me. "Okay, then."

I stand up and stretch, grabbing my jacket. "I'm going for a walk. Not that you care." She waves her hand a little, which is at least an acknowledgement. I slide my jacket on and head out of the cave, touching the stone knife in my pocket. I haven't heard anything out here yet, but obviously there's some live stuff roaming around, since we just ate one of them. Hopefully its friends aren't sitting out here plotting their revenge.

I sigh and start walking, making sure to stay in a straight line and dig my feet into the sand so I can find my way back. I fight the urge to light another cigarette, because I'd rather cut down slowly than end up having to quit cold turkey if I can't find a Seven-Eleven out here.

"God, this sucks," I say, the sound of my voice immediately getting lost on the wind. I walk under a somewhat bare tree, and jump up, trying to slap the lowest branch with my hand. I'm wondering if I can get more height with a running start when I feel something watching me. I freeze and swallow hard, listening. Whatever it is, is large and low to the ground. I'm being stalked by something, and it's not in any kind of a rush, either.

Carefully, I slide my jacket off, trying not to make any sudden movements, and close my eyes, feeling for the animal. I can sense it preparing to attack, and in one motion I throw one arm of the jacket over the branch and grab it in my other hand, using the arms like a pair of still rings from the Olympics to haul myself off the ground just as the large cat flies past where I was standing.

This doesn't throw it for long, though, and it comes back as I hoist myself completely into the tree, accidentally kicking my jacket off the lower branch in my scramble for the highest point. The huge cat grabs the jacket and rips it to shreds in about five seconds.

"That was a really expensive jacket, man! Fred's gonna gut me if I ever get back there!" I yell at the cat, who is not impressed in the least. It leans its front paws on the trunk of the tree, assessing the situation.

"Great idea, Faith. How do you get away from a cat? Climb a fucking tree. Because cats can't do that. Especially not desert cats with fangs longer than your arm who are used to fighting with their food." I keep climbing into the tree, trying to get my legs out of clawing distance. "It's just a cat," I try to reason with myself. "A cat with fangs. So, it's like a really cuddly vampire. That probably outweighs me by at least five hundred pounds."

The cat wiggles its back haunches and I close my eyes, hoping it's at the very least a quick death, if not a painless one. I open them and stare into its eyes, silently challenging it. They're supposed to hate when you do that, I think.

It considers me for a minute before launching itself into the tree. I let out a long, blood-curdling scream as its fangs snap just under my foot. I curl myself tight, trying to stay out of its reach. "Now would be an awesome time for a miracle. Not even a big miracle, just.. one that'll let me not become a pile of meow mix in the next few minutes."

My whole body tenses and a wave of nausea hits me. It feels like I'm falling, which isn't really a bad thing. Better to hit the ground with a broken neck before becoming cat chow, right?

Instinctively, I tuck myself into a ball and prepare to hit bottom.

 


 

I remember to roll into it this time, and land more or less on my feet. In the time it's taken me to hit the ground, I've decided I'm going out fighting, so I whip around and prepare to be mauled. "You wanna go, kitty, we'll go!"

I open my eyes, my arms up and clenched into fists, and stare back at the bewildered faces of everyone in Buffy's livingroom. I swallow hard and look around. "Where's B?" My voice sounds hoarse even to my own ears, and Dawn lowers the book in front of her, staring past me.

There's Buffy, crouched in the corner glaring, her teeth bared defensively.

Andrew chooses this moment to walk in from the kitchen looking desperate. "Who ate the last Hot Pocket? 'Cause.. my name was on it. And it's just common courtesy to.." he trails off and glances back and forth between Buffy and the rest of us. "You know, I respect the art form of cosplay as much as anyone else who's ever dreamed night and day of going to Comic-Con, but Land of the Lost is kind of an obscure reference."

I look at him disbelievingly and he shrinks back a little. "I'll just have Bagel Bites instead, it's cool." He disappears back into the kitchen and I look back at Buffy, who looks less defensive and more overwhelmed, and slowly move towards her. She's fine with it until Xander makes a move towards her as well. Then she freaks and knocks over an end table on her way out the door.

"Shit," I mutter. "You guys, stay!" I don't even wait for a response, instead jumping over Kennedy's prone body on the floor to run after Buffy.

I come to a stop in the backyard, but she's nowhere to be found. I can't even see where she might have gone, and I sink onto the porch steps, putting my head in my hands. Not good, not good at all.

Xander sits down next to me. "Faith.. we'll find her. Willow's in there now, setting up a locator spell." I nod a little, feeling suddenly both exhausted and defeated. "What the hell happened to you guys? Why is Buffy suddenly at one with her inner Wilma?"

"I don't know," I say softly. "I thought.. maybe it would wear off if we got back or something. I--I don't know what happened. We were in this desert.. with these weird guys in thunder need of some fashion advice. They had these sticks.. they knocked me out. And.. and when I woke up, she was like this. And they said some weird shit, too."

He furrows his brows, studying me. "Like what?"

I shrug. "Something about.. Yoko being a lezzie?"

His face pales a little. "Uko mlezi?"

I look at him quickly. "How the hell did you know that?"

"It's in the book," he answers, looking troubled. "Dawn was trying to translate it.. she said it was some kind of prophecy."

"The guardian," comes a soft voice from behind us. I turn around quickly and Dawn is standing there, looking worried and tired.

"What?"

"Uko mlezi. It means 'The Guardian'. It's.." she lifts up a piece of notebook paper and reads over it. "Something about the Slayer. The--the first Slayer. She um.. had a Guardian? I think it's supposed to mean Watcher."

I swallow hard, holding my hand out. "Can I see that, Dawnie?" She silently passes it to me and sits down on the porch, pulling her knees to her chest. "Chained to the earth? Filled her with dark? What is this?"

"That's what I was reading, when the portal opened. It's how the first Slayer was made. They um.. they chained her down and forced a demon into her. It's what.. what gives the Slayer her power."

Chained to the earth. Demon. I lift my head, looking at her quickly and grabbing my cigarettes out of my pocket. "I was chained. They.. they knocked me out, and when I woke up, I was chained to the wall of this cave."

Xander studies me for a minute. "You're the Watcher."

I choke on the cigarette I'm trying to light and spend a few seconds coughing and spitting before looking up at him. "What are you, on crack? I'm a Slayer, not a Watcher."

"I think he's right, Faith," Dawn pipes up nervously. "I mean.. it makes sense. The Shadowmen--those guys you met--they couldn't come back with you. They had to know it. And--and the Slayer needs someone to watch over her, according to the lore. So.. so that would be you."

"They put demon in her," I whisper, mostly pointing it out to myself. "They.. they violated her, and they turned her into a monster. And I'm supposed to do what? Watch her?"

"Help her. She's.. she's got to be so scared. She doesn't even know what's happened to her," Xander says softly. "The first Slayer.. Senaya.. she said she had no speech. They did that, they took that away from her. Turned her into a mindless killer."

"Buffy's not mindless!" I snap, surprising myself. "She's just.. I don't know what she is. And I don't really care. She's out there alone in a fucking rug, and I'm gonna go find her." I stand up and throw my cigarette aside. "And you better have a way to turn her back when I find her or she won't be the only one with brain damage." Someone clears their throat behind me and I whirl around to face Willow. "Where is she?"

Willow hands me a ragged piece of paper with a pinhole off to the side. "It's a map. That spot there, that's where she is. Or.. was, five minutes ago. That's just north of Crawford Street, the place where Angel had that mansion a few years ago?"

I nod and jam the map in my pocket. "Figure out how to bring her back."

Without even waiting for a response, I take off at a run.

 


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