Sunnydale, California, Late April 2003 (The Next Day/Tuesday Fandom Time)

[brat_inslayage]

There had been some seriously rich irony, or something, in Andrew lecturing all the girls this morning about how dangerous Faith was. Wasn't like he was completely innocent, either... then again, they'd hardly call him dangerous, either. So. Maybe not irony. But something.

Whatever, though; Kennedy was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt, and most of the Potentials, even the skittish ones, were at the very least intrigued by the arrival of the mysterious "other" Slayer. More receptive to her attempts to get to know them, anyway, but then Faith wasn't the one who was all doom and destruction and uber-serious business at them 24/7. It was a nice change.

Tonight, though, was a different kind of welcome change. Willow was back from the hospital for one, which would have been more of a celebrate-y thing if not for the girl, Shannon, who'd been thoroughly fucked up by their newest addition to the rogues' gallery and was still in the ICU. Conscious, at least, and able to talk, which was a pretty raw deal since their new creepy preacher friend had used her to send a message to Buffy.

"I have something of yours," the message was. Nice and ominous, right? About par for the course these days. Yay.

So Buffy and Faith went out on a recon stint, and did anybody else get to go along? No. Guess who was pissed off about that. No points for guessing anyone who wasn't Kennedy.

Faith	Man, it was getting old school up in here. Her and B, out on patrol again. How long had that been? Years, easy. Faith didn't usually play Remember When, but when she fell into step next to Buffy in those same damn woods, it was hard not to. This time, it was recon for more of those freaky Bringer guys, not your basic stake-'em-and-leave-'em graveyard circuit. Not her ideal. But it meant being out of Teenage Hormone Central for a couple of hours, and getting to stretch her legs instead of sitting around waiting was always the right answer. Besides, they might get jumped by something. Had to look on the bright side. "The no-eyes thing freaks me out," she admitted. "Did they just never have eyes or do they fuckin' claw them out or something? And how are they getting around so fast, anyway? Sonar?"
Buffy	"Or something, I guess," Buffy said, and then paused to clarify. "The sonar, not the clawing-out-eyes thing. Pretty good when they attack." Now she was going to be stuck with that clawing-out-eyes image.
Faith	Wasn't pretty, was it? Claws wouldn't explain the fancy scars, unless those had been added later, and they should all be glad Faith had kept this part to herself. Made for a lifetime score of Discretion 1, Faith 3 Trillion, give or take. "Yeah, I know," she said, rolling one of her shoulders uneasily. "One of 'em came at me inside. Tough, but they die just like everything else." Weird explaining that to prison guards. It helped that "this freak broke in, with his big fuck-off dagger" read very clearly as self-defense. And as something the warden didn't want to think about too hard. "So, what, they just roam free around town?"
Buffy	The mention of 'inside' got a little bit of a side eye from Buffy, since... well, she had thoughts and feelings on how that had all gone down. Not that she was going to acknowledge it, it was just really casual talk of that. Which kind of made this sound like a crime drama. Which was neat. "Well, normally, they show up out of nowhere, and then either stab or get stabbed, and then they run off," Buffy explained. "Looks like this guy wants to be found." Lucky them!
Faith	These fuckers might be fast, but they weren't hard to keep pace with. They didn't seem to be interested in disappearing into the night, either. "Lends weight to the whole 'it's a trap' theory," she mused. When the minions suddenly made it easy for you to follow them, you'd be dumb not to consider it.
Buffy	Yeah, she got it, and she'd had so many people questioning every little thing she did lately that her explanation was a snapped, "I'm through waiting around for people to attack us."
Faith	Wow, that hit a nerve. Faith raised an eyebrow. "Hey, I'm with you," she said. "Drop me in the hornet's nest, what the hell." Plans were for thinkers, not doers. Faith was a doer. They should go hit shit until it died, or until they died, or until something interesting happened. That was her idea of a plan. Of course, Buffy had once bitched out Faith for screwing up a plan that was, in its entirety, 'wait for the count of three.' So there was that. "You've got a rough sitch here," she continued, falling into step again now that B had dialed back the death glare. "Trying to turn a bunch of little girls into an army."
Buffy	That was more empathy than Buffy had gotten in a while. Maybe Faith really did get what she was trying to do? It was a little encouraging, at least. Also it meant no more death glare. "They're potential slayers, just like we were."
Faith	"Right," Faith said, not sounding entirely convinced. "Maybe they'll do as good as us." One Slayer that saved the world a lot, and one that ... killed people and went to prison. Helluva batting average. At least neither of them were dead yet? Okay, B kept dying, but she kept coming back.
Buffy	That was about where Buffy's thoughts were, too. "They're getting better," she offered. But not better enough to send them out like Kennedy wanted. Couldn't blame a girl for worrying.
Faith	Really couldn't. "I'll work with them," Faith offered. "Some of them seem real eager." Too eager, in some cases. Kids had no idea what they were getting into, but there they were, wet behind the ears and just raring to go. Probably wasn't a good way to ease them in, either. It might just be sink or swim time. "Fashion disasters, yeah, but they're ready to fight."
Buffy	Buffy stopped walking then, realizing that there was a question she really needed answered if they were having this conversation. If the Bringer wanted to be found, he could wait ten seconds. "Why did you come back?" she wondered.
Faith	Faith stopped dead in her tracks, her defensiveness spiking through the roof. "Willow said you needed me," she said, which was true. "Didn't give it a lot of thought. Do you --" She'd woken up from a coma, and there had been Willow: get in the car and get your ass to Sunnydale, blah blah blah apocalypse. So she'd gone. Because ... why not? Something to do. Hey, maybe prison had got her head worked out, and maybe she and Angel were kinda square, sort of. Maybe it was better than sitting in jail hoping the world didn't end, and maybe if they needed
Buffy	Buffy sighed. It had felt a lot like she was doing all the supporting- or trying to do the supporting- without receiving any herself. Or at least, she was receiving less and less of it. It was easy to doubt people's motivations right now, especially with the history she and Faith had. "No, that's not what I meant. I'm..." And it didn't seem like she really had the words to explain. Or she didn't want to voice them, anyway. "...glad that you're here. It's good. Thank you."
Faith	Oh. She hadn't ... that wasn't the "fuck off" speech? Okay. Awkward. Buffy thanking her was weird, and she didn't know what to do with that. Especially since B seemed to ... actually mean it. "No problem," she said, shrugging uneasily. Easier to make a smartass joke. "You know me, all about the good deeds." That was totally her. Long history of those.
Buffy	Speaking of which... "Willow told me you helped out Angel," she stated. Who she was totally over. And was just asking this out of curiosity.
Faith	"Yeah," Faith said. Angel had stuck his neck out for her, a long time ago. It was only right that she do the same. "Heard he could use a hand, and I figured --" Whatever she figured was going to remain unsaid. "Buffy." Up ahead, their bringer was hurrying his way into a well-lit wooden building. Maybe some kind of a barn? No, the sign had grapes on it. Vineyard. He wasn't the only Bringer. There were dozens of them, easy, pouring out of the night and filtering in, like it was Sunday mass and the doors were gonna close soon. "I think we just found our hornet's nest."

***
Whatever it was of hers that Caleb claimed he had when he stuck a knife in Shannon's gut and dumped her on the highway, Buffy was intent on getting it back.

Now, finally, it looked like Kennedy was going to get in on the action.

Not all the girls, not yet; Buffy had at least been willing to concede that much caution to Giles's concerns. But Kennedy, Amanda, Rona, Molly, and a couple of the girls who'd been here the longest and seemed the most ready? They got to go. It was, as far as she was concerned, totally awesome.

Not so much for Molly, who was fretting about possible tentacles and how she didn't do well with the squishy, or for Rona, who thought all of this was a terrible idea because she'd come here for protection, not to jump feet first into danger.

Kennedy let them vent, since they might as well get it out of their systems now, and focused on finding herself a nice, big, shiny sword. (Damn, she missed having her own gear, particularly the sword Zack had given her.) Which worked until Rona's griping finally got to be too much for Xander, and could he give the speeches for a while? Because he gave them a pretty impressive one about how Buffy had died twice (very Timex, all takes a licking and keeps on ticking, all that) and cared about their lives more than they'd ever know.

However much any of them believed that-- in their limited experience it didn't really play out-- Xander's speech worked. It was too damn genuine not to.

By the time Buffy, who totally got teary-eyed when she caught the tail end of the speech, and Faith, who looked suitably impressed if bemused by it, showed up to tell them it was time to head out, they all had a lot more spring in their step.

At the forefront of the group of Potentials, trailing just behind Buffy, Faith, Xander, and Spike, Kennedy was practically vibrating with excitement.

Freaking finally. She hadn't gotten into a good, honest-to-god battle since Fandom, if you didn't count controlled training exercises. Two years was a long time. Hopefully this was gonna be one of those "just like riding a bicycle" things.

***

It turned out to be a longer trek through the woods than anticipated; no point in broadcasting their approach with too much noise, so they had to stop and take cover a few times to avoid the occasional roving Bringer.

...those guys were super good at moving quickly in the dark, for creepy eyeless monks.

It was a long enough walk, at any rate, that nerves had time to set in for the Potentials.

"D'you really think we're ready for this?" Molly whispered, a tinge of worry carrying clearly despite her hushed voice.

"I'm trying to think of it like studying for an AP exam," Amanda offered, fidgeting. "An AP exam with way more serious consequences than not getting college credit..."

Kennedy turned to them and replied fiercely, "You guys, we can do this. We've been busting our asses for forever now. This is what we were meant to do. Remember that night in the crypt? You and Dawn at the school, Amanda? This all goes down, you'll know what to do. This is what we were meant to do, yeah? It'll all be good."

She wasn't entirely sure, but in the darkness she thought she saw them-- and the other girls within earshot-- smile.

Ahead of them, Buffy and Faith slowed their pace as a dimly lit building came into view.

Kennedy grinned. "Looks like we made it. Okay, ladies, let's do this thing."

***

SHADOW VALLEY VINEYARDS, read the sign above the door, and wasn't that nice and creepy? Little on the nose, but whatever.

"An evil vineyard, huh?" Kennedy muttered, more amused than anything.

"Like Falcon Crest," agreed Spike, and Kennedy stifled a snicker.

"Dude, way before my time." She'd spent enough time around him now to guess at the playfully aggrieved look he was probably giving her, but she was paying more attention to keeping pace with Buffy as they headed in.

They were split up into two groups: she, Rona, Amanda, and Eun were heading in first with Buffy and Spike, while Molly, Bryn, and Arsine made up the second, backup unit with Faith and Xander.

It was probably a bad sign that they didn't run into a single Bringer all the way through the building or on their way down into the basement. Convenient, but wow with the bad ratcheting up of anticipatory tension.

"Stay alert, you guys," Buffy said quietly, and Kennedy managed to bite back a snappish retort that amounted to "duh." "Bringers are here somewhere. Just need to find out where."

And again with the duh, although Spike beat her to it this time with a drawled, "Shouldn't be too hard," just before.

Well.

The thing about a wine cellar was that there were giant vats everywhere, lots of shadows to be cast, all nice and creepy until the Bringers-- yup, they were there-- came charging out of their hiding places, wickedly curved knives flashing in the dim lighting.

Kennedy grinned, a feral kind of smile, and hoisted her broadsword as she went to work, charging into the fray right after Buffy and Spike. Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of Rona landing some good solid blows with her spiked club, then kicking a Bringer in the face. Molly grabbed one by the wrists and headbutted him, and damn, she was proud of her girls, they were kicking ass, they were being everything she knew they could be--

She hit the ground hard and saw stars when her skull cracked against the stone floor, then blinked them away to focus in on a Bringer looming over her with a knife. Oh, hell no.

She got her hands up just in time to reach up and grab its wrists, keeping imminent stabbed-ness at bay, but then it kicked her in the face and it had been so long since she actually got into a real fight like this, she'd forgotten how much that hurt. Her grip on the Bringer's wrists wavered and she braced herself for the inevitable pain, but then suddenly Molly was there, charging the Bringer and buying her the time she needed to scramble to her feet, spitting out blood.

Honestly, after that, it was easy. The girls were more than holding their own. Hell, they were fighting like a team, working together, discovering their confidence, and it was fucking beautiful.

It was, for the briefest of moments, a disappointment when the Bringers backed off.

But it was a chance to catch their breath, with which Kennedy wouldn't argue, and she looked around to assess the troops before catching Buffy's eye and nodding.

"Well, now."

The voice, deep and booming and tinged with a Southern accent, came out of the same darkness into which the Bringers had just retreated. A man stepped out, hands behind his back, and the simple black priest's garments he wore contrasted unpleasantly with his smug, ominous demeanor in a way that sent a chill down Kennedy's spine. She'd never gotten along all that well with the church, but this was... Way overt. She never had bought into the organized-religion-is-evil thing-- she'd never cared quite enough to have an opinion-- but this guy was making a good case for it.

"You girls are just burning with righteousness, aren't you?" This had to be Caleb, and oh, she really didn't like him. "Problem is, you think you're blazing like suns when really, you're just matchsticks in the face of the darkness."

He started toward Buffy, way too calm, and was he stupid or something? She could-- not that she was Kennedy's favorite person lately, but hi, Slayer-- take him apart. "You having fun?" he inquired. "Hope my boys haven't worn you out too much; need you fit for when I... purify you."

"Gross," Kennedy muttered under her breath.

"Save the sermon, padre," Buffy snapped. "Heard you had something of mine."

He smirked slowly and spread his hands. "Well, I do now."

He paused just long enough to let that sink in, and Kennedy could hear the other girls inhaling sharply in alarm.

Still, no big, right? He thought he'd led them into a trap, but what was one creepy preacher and a bunch of eyeless monks against this trained bunch? They could totally take him.

"You like my little message, did you?" he went on as he moved closer. "You know, I ruined a perfectly good knife on that girl. Got her soiled blood all over the place. I may need to get a new truck..."

Ugh. Definitely a jackass.

And then he was right up in Buffy's face. "So, you're the Slayer. The Slayer. The strongest, the fastest, the most aflame with that most precious invention of all mankind: the notion of goodness. The Slayer must indeed be powerful."

...not powerful enough that when he swung one fist with careless ease, she could keep from flying halfway across the room and straight into one of the giant wine casks.

"So." Caleb turned to them, smirking, as a group of Bringers rushed them. "What else you got?"

Oh, shit.

The next few minutes happened in a blur: Spike vamping out, letting out a roar and charging Caleb, only to get thrown headfirst into a wine cask, sending splinters and merlot cascading all over the floor. Kennedy herself, not even stopping to think about what she'd just seen, charging at him with her sword and taking a punch so hard her ears rang before she went crashing into a rack of wine bottles. Rona yelling her name, then crying out over the sickening snap of bone.

That must have been enough screaming to qualify for what Buffy had told Faith and Xander was their signal to come in, because dimly, Kennedy heard Caleb yell, "Oh, good, there's more of you!"

She thought she heard Faith's voice, a defiant counterpoint to Caleb's condescending lecture, then a body falling to the floor-- oh god, was it one of her girls? She couldn't tell, she was half-unconscious but not so far gone that she couldn't feel glass shards digging into her flesh in a dozen places. Howls of pain, the muffled thud of blows being exchanged, Molly crying out, "No!"

And then Xander was hauling her up out of the mess of wood and glass, asking if she was all right, and-- fighting back bile when she caught sight of Molly lying on the ground, blood seeping out from under her body-- with his help she struggled to her feet.

She was limping toward the stairs, along with the other survivors, when she heard Caleb speak.

"You're the one who sees things, aren't you?"

It hurt, but she turned her head to see he'd grabbed Xander by the arm, and-- oh god. Older Xander, with the eyepatch, and this was how it happened, wasn't it? He said to tell you to duck if someone goes for your eye with a thumb.

"Xander!"

He remembered, too. She saw Caleb raise his hand, thumb extended, saw Xander tense to move out of the way. But was he going to be fast enough?

"Xander, look--"

She didn't have time to finish the warning before the pained screams echoed off the walls of the cellar.

[[nfi/nfb, ooc-okay. part 2 of 5. adapted from btvs 7x18, "dirty girls," and contains violence, creepy rhetoric couched in religious terms, npc character death, and disfigurement. preplay in this bit thoroughly rocked by annieadderall as stillbaking and angelo_wings as neverfaithful.]]

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