Fan Fiction ❯ Quickened ❯ Of Keys and Compromise ( Chapter 15 )

~All of your life

You have denied

There'd be a time

When you'd ever die

Still it's been rumored this thing must be

 

Why do you act surprised

When I appear now to be your guide?

Why do you hesitate to follow me?

 

See it rising

Stare and wonder

Hear it beckon

You to dance

 

Feel it hold you

Take you under

I'm your God of second chance~

 

- Trans-Siberian Orchestra, “Mephistopheles”

 

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FAUSTUS: “And what are you that live with Lucifer?”

 

MEPHISTOPHELES: “Unhappy spirits that fell with Lucifer,

Conspir'd against our God with Lucifer,

And are for ever damn'd with Lucifer.”

 

FAUSTUS: “Where are you damn'd?”

 

MEPHISTOPHELES: “In hell.”

 

FAUSTUS: “How comes it, then, that thou art out of hell?”

 

MEPHISTOPHELES: “Why, this is hell, nor am I out of it:

Think'st thou that I, that saw the face of God,

And tasted the eternal joys of heaven,

Am not tormented with ten thousand hells,

In being depriv'd of everlasting bliss?

O, Faustus, leave these frivolous demands,

Which strike a terror to my fainting soul!”

 

- from `The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus,' by Christopher Marlowe

 

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All eyes went to the woman in the doorway, and for a moment, there was silence as Buffy, Faith and Dawn processed what the woman had said.

 

“... Who are you?” Buffy asked.

 

Lilah stepped forward, ready to make her introduction, but Faith cut her off.

 

“That's Lilah Morgan, B. She's with Wolfram and Hart.” Faith frowned. “Though last I heard, she was dead.”

 

Lilah lowered the scarf around her neck to expose the scar that was left by her decapitation. “Still am, actually. Nice to see you too, Faith.”

 

“You know each other?” Buffy asked.

 

Lilah nodded. “Oh, Faith and I go way back.” She glanced at the Dark Slayer. “A shame about that whole you not killing Angel thing. You had potential. Plenty of initiative. But perhaps a bit too much guilt.”

 

Faith looked troubled for a moment. “You didn't come here just to remind me about all the mistakes I've made.”

 

“As much fun as that would be, no, I didn't.” Lilah turned towards Buffy, and smiled a smile that just SCREAMED `danger.' “I'm going to make you an offer you can't refuse.”

 

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Quickened

by P.H. Wise

A Buffy crossover fanfic

 

Chapter 11: Of Keys and Compromise

 

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy. I don't own Angel. I don't own Highlander. Please don't sue me. I'm only a poor starving writer. I have no money.

 

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“So here's the deal. You pack up and leave Rome immediately. I'm sure there are places better suited to your attention: the Hellmouth in Cleveland, for example. In return, Wolfram and Hart will reset the spell that keeps the Key in human form.”

 

Silence.

 

“Well, gee,” said Lilah, “Don't all leap at the opportunity to save the girl's life at the same time.”

 

It was Dawn who broke the stalemate, finally finding the will to speak. “... When you say `reset,' what do you mean?”

 

Lilah's smile widened slightly. “Smart girl. It'd be a shame for such a smart girl to cease to be, wouldn't it? When I say `reset,' I mean exactly that. The spell would be made as it was when it was first cast.”

 

Buffy didn't like where this was going. “And in a few years, when it needed `resetting' again?”

 

Lilah's smile widened into a Cheshire grin. “We would, of course, oblige. In exchange for a few minor... services.”

 

Faith shook her head in silent admiration. “Not bad. I gotta tell you, I'm impressed. You got it all planned out, don't you? But why send you? Wolfram and Hart has an office here in Rome. Why not just send someone from there? Or why not another, living, lawyer?”

 

Lilah shrugged, and then spoke as if reciting an answer that someone else had given her many times. “The Senior Partners thought that the Slayer, being American, and thus having the language barrier as something of an issue, would be more comfortable meeting with me than with someone from the Rome office.

 

“And what with Angel being in charge of the Los Angeles office, they figured that it would be easier to send me than to complicate things by going through him.” She went on in a conspiratorial tone, “Personally, I'm starting to wish that they'd just leave me to my eternal torment in Hell. Do you have any idea how annoying it is to be constantly sent into the world of the living? Wolfram and Hart REALLY needs to get a new dead spokeswoman.”

 

Buffy raised an eyebrow. “I'd have thought you'd be happy to get a reprieve from the whole fire and brimstone thing.”

 

Lilah shook her head. “Doesn't work that way, Slayer. You don't leave Hell behind when you return to the living world. It comes with you. Not so much a place as it is a state of being. You should know.”

 

Buffy flinched at that, and Lilah laughed, and then checked her watch.

 

“Well, I'm dead and running late. Look, you don't have to decide right now. Think it over. What's your sister's life worth to you?” Lilah produced a small business card and handed it to Buffy. “I'll give you a week.” She turned and headed out the door, calling over her shoulder. “Let me know what you decide.”

 

The door closed heavily behind her.

 

Buffy stared at the card, and neither she, nor Dawn, nor Faith said a word.

 

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Days went by. The second dormitory at Slayer Central was finally brought up and running, allowing the operation of gathering and training the newly empowered Slayers to get back under way. It was uncomfortably hot these days, but it wasn't so bad in the shade of the tree-filled courtyard on the north side of the Academy campus. But a shadow was cast over everything that was done. The situation had been explained to all of the others, and anxiety gnawed at their insides like a malignant tumor. Buffy found herself less and less patient with others, snapping at almost anyone who approached her. Faith got more and more predatory, and found herself having a very hard time reigning in her natural aggression.

 

Dawn had the worst of it, though. It was like she had just... given up. She spent most of her time sitting listlessly on the couch in the dorm's lounge, staring blankly at the television screen regardless of whether it was on or off.

 

And so it remained until Willow's arrival in Rome. She'd come with two newbie Slayers in tow, leaving Kennedy to hold the fort back in Brazil.

 

When nobody was there to greet her at the airport, she suspected that something might be wrong, but supposed that it was possible that someone had simply forgotten to come pick them up. Casting a quick locater spell to determine the location of the school, she and the other Slayers set off on foot through the streets of Rome.

 

An hour later, Willow cursed her decision to go on foot (although not literally). Two hours later, she was about ready to start with the literal when the gates of Slayer Central FINALLY came into view. Breathing a sigh of relief, she led the two new Slayers through the gates with a smile. “Welcome to Slayer Central.” she said.

 

The cheerless faces of her friends greeted her within, and Willow frowned. “Why the glum faces?” she asked.

 

They told her.

 

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“Somebody, help me!” the young woman shrieked. The vampire grinned widely, stalking ever closer. They were alone in a back alley. Her friends had told her to avoid this alley, but she had taken it as a shortcut home from work a million times and nothing had ever happened. Until now.

 

“There's no one,” the vampire told her, drinking in her terror and anguish. “You're all alone.” His grin turned vicious. “And you'll die alone.”

 

She bolted, but in a burst of supernatural speed, the vampire was in front of her. She collided with him, and she fell over. He didn't budge.

 

She began to cry. “Please... please don't do this!” she sobbed.

 

He seized her by the arms, and drew in close to bite her...

 

“Take him down hard!” a voice called.

 

Gunfire rang out into the night, and the vampire staggered as dozens of bullets riddled his body. He fell to the ground, stunned, and the woman ran screaming.

 

The gunmen came out of hiding: a team of four of the rogue watchers on patrol, three men and a woman. The vampire hissed at them dangerously as they approached, but even a vampire needed a few minutes to heal from being fired upon by four automatic rifles.

 

Time he didn't have.

 

The female watcher produced a stake.

 

Several seconds later, the vampire was dust.

 

The team of Watchers went about the business of erasing any trace that they had been there quickly and efficiently before loading back into their black sedan and driving away.

 

In his car parked nearby, Joe Dawson frowned as he wrote down the license plate number of the sedan. If all went well, he wouldn't need it, but it never hurt to be thorough. But why would the rogue watchers be going after Vampires? ... Well, besides the obvious thing about them being unholy abominations that needed to be put down.

 

Slowly, he started his car, and followed the black sedan. So far, it had stopped to clear out two demon nests, and had saved three pedestrians from a vampire. Absently, he wondered what their next target would be. He spotted Richie Ryan coming out of a nearby club. The black sedan stopped, and so did Joe. Joe got a sinking feeling as Richie got onto his motorcycle, put his helmet on, and pulled away from the curb. The black sedan followed. So did Joe. And as he went into pursuit of the black sedan, he flipped open his cell phone and hit the speed dial.

 

---------------------------------

 

“I can't believe we're having this conversation,” Buffy snapped, glaring at Willow, Faith, and Andrew. “I am NOT going to let Dawn die if I can prevent it.”

 

They had been arguing for about an hour now, and their voices were growing noticeably hoarse. They were in the dormitory's main lounge. Dawn sat on the couch with dead eyes as the others argued over her fate. She wasn't yet catatonic, but it from the look of it, she was certainly heading in that direction.

 

“I'm not going to let Dawn die, either!” said Willow, “But making a deal with the devil? Not the best way of saving her life!”

 

“Do you know how to fix what's wrong with her?” Buffy asked with intensity in her gaze.

 

“... No. But we could do research, and maybe find a spell...”

 

Buffy laughed bitterly, and Willow trailed off with a hurt look.

 

“You don't want to go out into that darkness,” said Faith, “and I would know. I've been there. You think you can just touch it? Flirt with it and then send it on its way?” Faith shook her head. “Doesn't work that way, B. Darkness doesn't go much for the touching. It swallows you whole.”

 

Andrew nodded his agreement with Faith. “I think, um, you should listen to Faith. Once you start down the dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny.”

 

The phone rang in the other room, but no one moved to answer it. It stopped ringing a few moments later, though none of them were interested to see if anyone had answered it.

 

Faith glanced at Andrew. “Andrew?”

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Don't help me.”

 

Andrew nodded. “Right. Shutting up now.”

 

Willow spoke up, then. “Buffy, I love Dawnie too, but aren't you kinda forgetting something? Starts with `a,' ends in `pocalypse?' Coming soon, extra flamey with the fire and brimstone, to a Rome near you? What happens to the world if we just pack up and leave?”

 

Buffy looked at Willow for a long moment, her eyes narrowed dangerously. “Would you do the same, if it could save Tara?”

 

Willow went very still, her face paled, and she fell silent.

 

-----------------------

 

The black sedan pulled up alongside Richie, but he didn't think much of it until it swerved hard towards him. His eyes widened, and adrenaline shot through his body as he swerved madly to avoid the sedan. He overcompensated. He collided with the curb, and went flying from his bike.

 

Both bike and rider skidded across a dozen meters of pavement. The bike smashed into a parked car. Richie didn't, but skidding across a dozen meters of pavement was bad enough. Groaning, he sat up. And that was when the pain hit him. He took a quick mental catalogue of his injuries. Felt like his arm was broken in at least two places. Maybe a couple of broken ribs. And, of course, the bloody scrapes and burns that covered his hands and forearms that stung like a bitch from the long skid.

 

The doors of the sedan opened, and three men and a woman clad all in black stepped out, closing the doors behind them in unison. Silently, they approached the fallen Immortal.

 

“What the hell do you think you're doing!?” he demanded. “I could have been killed, there!”

 

One of the men cracked a smile at that. “We both know that isn't true, Mr. Ryan.”

 

He drew a sword.

 

`Oh hell,' Richie thought. `Come on, Immortal healing...'

 

The man went on. “But hey, I'm willing to work at it until it takes.”

 

Richie scrambled to his feet, but in his injured state, he was no match for the Watchers. He swung a wild punch at the woman, who was the first to approach him, but she dodged it easily, with the smooth movement of a well-trained martial artist. She then returned the favor, smashing the palm of her hand into his nose. Richie cried out as his nose broke, but didn't actually have a chance to clutch at it before two of the men seized him by the arms. He struggled, but to no avail.

 

The woman reached out and pulled off his helmet even as their leader approached with sword in hand.

 

“Come on, guys, this is NOT a good day for a decapitation. Please, don't do this...”

 

The leader raised his sword high.

 

“Not like this...” he tried to shake his head, but the woman held it still. “Not like this...! HELP! MAC! SOMEBODY! HELP!”

 

The sword came down...

 

A small, feminine hand caught the sword arm of the leader by the wrist in mid-swing, stopping it cold.

From where she stood behind the leader, Vi spoke. “I don't think the boy wants to play.” She grinned. “But I do.”

At that, she crushed the leader's wrist with a noise like a chopstick being snapped in half. He let out a gasp of pain, and his sword clattered to the ground. She threw him at the Watcher holding Richie's left arm, and both Watchers went sprawling.

 

There! The bones of his arm had finally knit back into place. Richie clenched his fist, and then punched the other watcher in the face with all of his strength. The Watcher staggered, losing his grip on Richie, who fell forward onto his hands and knees.

 

Vi was quick to follow up on Richie's blow with a kick to the Watcher's groin. The man on the receiving end sank slowly to the ground.

 

The last watcher - the woman - backed away from Vi and Richie, her hands held up in surrender.

 

Vi ignored her, and quickly helped Richie to his feet.

 

“You all right?” she asked as she led him away from the scene of the attack.

 

Richie nodded gratefully. “Yeah, thanks, whoever you are. If you hadn't stepped in...”

 

Vi smiled. “I'm Vi. Dawson sent me. And don't worry about it - all a part of the job.”

 

Richie smiled a relieved smile. “That's another one I owe him.” He glanced at Vi. “I'm Richie.”

 

“I know.”

 

“You're one of them, aren't you? Like Buffy?”

 

“Dawson told you about us?” Vi asked, an eyebrow raised.

 

Richie nodded.

 

The two of them continued talking as they walked away, the sounds of their conversation fading into the distance.

 

Once they had managed to collect themselves, the group of Watchers, with disgusted expressions, climbed back into their black sedan and drove away, not noticing the new addition to their car - a tiny metallic object on the license plate. As they drove away, Joe Dawson stepped out of the shadows, holding small LED.

 

He looked down at it and smiled, watching the green dot moving across the digital map of the city.

 

“Gotcha.”

 

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The argument was over, and Buffy was gone. Gone to meet with Lilah. They had tried, but with Dawn's very existence in danger, they had never really had much of a chance of convincing Buffy not to take the deal. Now Faith and Andrew had left as well, Faith to take out her aggression on the practice dummies, and Andrew to take out his own anger (such as it was) on the Romulan Empire in his Star Trek real time strategy game.

 

Dawn sat on the edge of her bed, staring blankly into space.

 

She had been sitting like that ever since Buffy had left, and Willow was growing worried. Wordlessly, the redhead sat down next to Dawn and hugged her.

 

For a long moment, Dawn didn't respond. ... And then she shuddered once, fell back into Willow's embrace, and began to sob.

 

Willow held her like a mother holding her child, saying nothing, but rocking gently back and forth. That brought forth memories of Tara, but they were good memories. Willow let them come, and the bittersweet mixture of love and sadness that was the sole consolation of the bereaved washed over her, even as she tried to convey some kind of comfort to Dawn.

 

At length, Dawn's crying subsided, and she looked up at Willow.

 

“... You know when you know what the right thing to do is, but you really don't want to do it?”

 

Willow nodded. “I know.”

 

“What do you do?”

 

Dawn waited for the Willow babble-fest to begin. But it didn't come. Instead, with a haunted look, Willow spoke but four words.

 

“What you have to.”

 

Silence hung heavily in the room. For several minutes, they sat there as Dawn thought about that. And then slowly, ever so slowly, Dawn's resolve grew.

 

“I was going to start school next week,” Dawn said. The tears were gone, and in their place was left a deep sadness mixed with firm resolve.

 

Willow nodded. “I heard.”

 

“I had it all planned out. I was going to finish high school, start college, get a degree in demony languages, and then I could hold up a book and tell you all,” she put on her best faux British accent, “'The dead are rising from their graves! Quickly, the book of Thoth will show us out to defeat them!'”

 

Willow laughed, and Dawn smiled faintly.

 

Dawn's smile faded a moment later. “But I guess that's out of the question now.” She waited a beat. “Will it hurt?”

 

Willow shook her head sadly. “I don't know.”

 

A moment passed. “Wanna go back?” Willow asked. “End the pain?”

 

Dawn thought about that. Willow had asked her that before. But this time, there was no malice in her voice. Only sadness, mixed with love.

 

So she thought about it. And at length, she found an answer.

 

“No.”

 

She knew what she had to do.

 

Wordlessly, Dawn stood up, and green light sprang up around her. A crackling portal split the air in front of her. She stepped through, and it vanished with a flash.

 

And Willow sat there alone on the bed, a thoughtful expression on her face.

 

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The night was cold, especially in light of how warm the day had been. Shivering slightly, Buffy approached the Coliseum. It was closed for repairs, but this was the address on the card that Lilah had given her. Bathed in moonlight, it was almost inappropriately beautiful as a meeting place for the kind of deal that was going to be made tonight.

 

Lilah stepped out of the shadows of one of the pillars.

 

“Do we have a deal, Miss Summers?” she asked.

 

Buffy nodded, full of weary resolve. “We have a deal.”

 

Lilah smiled, and produced a contract, complete with its own clipboard and pen. “You'll need to sign it in blood, of course.” She handed the clipboard to Buffy. “Just sign it on the dotted line.” She paused. “Oh, and you'll need to initial here,” she pointed to a spot halfway up the contract, “concerning your immortal soul.”

 

“Of course,” Buffy echoed, horror welling up within her at what she was about to do, and yet determined to do it anyways.

 

For Dawn.

 

Wordlessly, she produced a knife and cut open the tip of her index finger. She replaced the knife, and reached out to sign her name on the contract.

 

In that moment, a crackling green portal split the air. Buffy and Lilah spun to face it, both of them clearly alarmed at its appearance.

 

Dawn stepped through.

 

Buffy stared.

 

“Well?” said Lilah, recovering quickly from her surprise. “I don't have all night.”

 

Buffy closed her mouth with an audible click, and then placed her finger on the dotted line to begin her signature.

 

“Buffy, no!” Dawn cried. She opened her hand, and the contract vanished in a flash of green light before reappearing in Dawn's hands. She tore it up and threw the pieces into the wind. Sadly, Dawn shook her head. “I can't let you do this, Buffy. It's not the way.”

 

Her eyes flashing with anger, Buffy rounded furiously on Dawn. “I'm trying to SAVE you!”

 

“By selling your soul?”

 

“If I have to!” A note of desperation crept into Buffy's voice. “I can't lose you, Dawn.” She shook her head in a horrified denial of the very idea of Dawn's death. “Not after everything...”

Dawn walked right up to Buffy and looked her directly in the eye. “Buffy, if you do this, I'm going to lose you. And I've already lost you once. I don't want to do it ever again. We'll find another way.”

 

"And what if there IS no other way?"

 

"We'll find one."

 

Buffy looked up at her younger sister, struck by the irony of the situation. Usually, wasn't it Dawn who was running off and doing something foolish, and Buffy who had to be the mature one and save her? “Promise?” she asked, with tears in her eyes.

 

“I promise.”

 

The two sisters embraced, and then both of them were crying. They would either save Dawn or they wouldn't, but there would be no compromise with the darkness. No souls would be traded for favors this night. Dawn waved her hand, and they vanished with a green flash.

 

And as the two Summers girls vanished, Lilah Morgan smiled her first genuine smile since Wesley's ill-fated attempt to burn her contract, and for a moment, the pain of hellfire faded.

 

END CHAPTER 11

 

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