Dark Moon: Pt One - Waxing Moon

Just before seven o’clock, the gang was trekking through the sewers on their way to the Master’s Lair. Despite all that the small structure had been through, it still stood fairly sound. It even looked as though someone, or something, had made some efforts to fix it up. There was a distinct lack of the large pools that had previously covered the rocky and uneven floor.

The walls were still composed of the same old, but unfinished wood, and some of the pews still lingered at the side of the aisle. Most of the stained glass was missing from the windows and the front door was missing completely, and, but at the same time, it felt very secure. A few additions had been made; namely, three large metal storage lockers stood against one wall, and lighting had been installed above. No doubt, Willow had assisted Giles in finding a way to bootleg free electricity from Sunnydale’s main power source.

Looking around her, Buffy whispered to herself, “This is where I died.”

“Wow,” exclaimed Oz, “I know you guys said it was impressive, but nothing can really prepare you with what to expect.”

“So where are the Vampires?” Xander asked, “The last time I was here, the place was crawling with them.”

“Without the Master or the Anointed One, I doubt that the Vampires had much reason to hang around,” Giles replied, “There are many places that are much more pleasant to hang out, even as far as Vampires are concerned.”

“You don’t say,” Buffy said wryly.

“Besides,” said Giles, giving Buffy a look, “Since the Spike and Drusilla left town, I’m been doing a little work on this place, preparing for just this kind of occasion.”

“And you chose this place because?” Buffy prompted him.

“I chose this place because it’s one of the last places anyone would ever look to find a Slayer or her ‘posse.’ Plus, it was very easy to bless, consecrate, and cast a spell on to prevent uninvited Vampires from entering.”

“That makes sense,” Xander interrupted, “But the real question is, where is there food?”

“There’s a steel locker behind you that has enough canned food in it to last six people about three weeks.”

“But is there any real food in there?”

Giles rolled his eyes and said, “Yes, there is what you refer to as real food in there. I don’t know how people of your generation can consume that kind of garbage, no wonder the world is falling apart as it is. The entire population under twenty-one is buzzing on a sugar high!”

Xander hastily went off in search of the ‘good stuff.’

Faith slowly started to move from her make-shift bed, and a soft moan escaped from her lips. Willow was immediately at her side, ensuring that the younger girl was still in good health.

“God, where the hell am I now?” Faith asked groggily as she opened her eyes, “I’m not sick again, am I?”

Giles cleared his throat and said, “I don’t think letting you have the liqueur was such a good idea given your condition. You were in a rather deep sleep for quite a while.”

Faith managed a slight smile, and uttered, “Cool.”

She closed her eyes for a moment, then opened them once again. “Where’s Ciorstaidh? And where did you say we were again?”

“Ciorstaidh, uh, had to go,” Giles replied, “And right now, we’re in an underground church or sorts... it used to be the Master’s Lair.”

“Ah... The big guy I heard about... the one Buffy dusted,” Faith whispered, with almost a hint of awe in her voice. Then, changing the subject, she said, “So, she’s quite the Witch, isn’t she.”

“You mean Willow?” Giles asked, “She still has a way to go, but she is shaping up to be quite the Wiccan. Jenny would have been extremely proud.”

“No, I mean Ciorstaidh,” Faith told him, “I swear, she took this broken body, and magically healed it.”

“Well, she did mention that her Aunt was a healer... she probably taught her a lot.”

“She also said that some people said her Aunt was a Witch,” Buffy interjected, “She could have taught her a lot in that way too.”

“I suppose it is possible,” Giles pondered aloud, before he was interrupted by another voice.

“So, what does a guy have to do around her to get invited into a place?” Angel said jokingly, as he appeared near the entrance of the hidden church. He looked as good as the day Buffy had last seen him; still wearing black of course, but he seemed slightly more relaxed... as though leaving Sunnydale had allowed him to leave some of his troubles behind.

“Angel...” said Buffy in a surprised voice. She really was at a lost as to what to say to him. He had left her so abruptly, claiming he loved her, but without a real goodbye.

“Of course,” Giles replied to Angel’s question, quickly sensing the tension that had filled the room, “You are invited to enter.”

With that, Angel entered the room with his usual graceful steps. Despite being so angry and hurt by him, she could help but to marvel at the way he moved, not unlike a panther.

“I got here as soon as I could,” he told Giles, ignoring the surprise that plainly showed on Buffy’s face, “We have so much work to do in preparation for the Erinyes Vrekolakas. Cordelia, of course, sends her regards. She said something along the lines of not wanting to give up her new ‘normal’ life for anything.”

“And exactly what is Erinyes Vrekolakas?” asked Faith.

“It’s the night that another prophecy is said to become fulfilled,” Giles told her, “You and Buffy are going to have to face off against some Vampires... a lot of Vampires.”

“So what else is new?” Faith asked, “Just give me a couple of days, and I’ll be more than ready to kick some Vampire ass!”

“Of course,” said Giles hesitantly, not wanting to reveal the rest of the prophecy yet. The last thing he wanted to do was destroy Faith’s upbeat attitude with news that she or Buffy would likely die; she would heal much faster if she was actually looking forward to fighting.

“If you keep resting up for the rest of today,” Giles continued, “Tomorrow, we can assess your condition, and start working on getting you back into top shape.”

“I’ve had more than enough time to rest!” Faith informed him, “If I can’t get better in three weeks, then I’ll never heal!”

With that, she flipped the blanket off herself. Then, she observed the cast on her ankle that she had already forgotten about.

“And how long I’m I supposed to keep that on?” she asked sheepishly.

“Six weeks,” answered Giles.

Faith pondered for a moment, then attempted to rise to her feet. She stumbled slightly, her weakened muscles having difficulty supporting her weight. However, she was soon able to maintain an upright stance, and began to test her ankle by gingerly taking a few small steps across the uneven floor. After a few minutes, she seemed to make up her mind that the ankle was healed enough to allow mobilisation, so she sat back down on her makeshift bed and smiled quietly to herself.

On the other side of the room, Buffy surprise at Angel’s presence turned into anger. She marched over to him, and shoved him hard, so that he had to take a step back in order to keep his balance.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she yelled, “You leave me without hardly a word, only to waltz back into my life to try to save the world once again? How dare you!”

“Buffy,” Angel began, “Let me explain...”

Buffy quickly cut him off by kicking his feet our from under him. Angel fell onto his back, and Buffy stood above him, continuing her loud rantings.

“For three weeks I’ve been missing you! You didn’t call or write. Now, just when I’m starting to feel the pain a little less, you show up again! Make up your mind! Come or go! Just stop ripping my heart out!”

Tears started filling Buffy’s eyes, and she turned, finding herself in the arms of Xander, who had been standing behind her, ready to jump in to her defence. He held her as she sobbed, and Angel still lie on the floor, dumbfounded by her outburst. Xander glared at Angel, his full hatred for the other man resurfacing.

“I think maybe you should leave,” he said coldly.

“Angel will be staying,” Giles cut in, as Angel slowly rose to his feet, “His assistance will be very valuable during these times, and I won’t have the petty disagreements of a certain few making the situation any more difficult that it already is. Do you understand, Buffy and Xander?”

Buffy still had her face buried in Xander’s shirt as she wept, but Xander looked down at the ground and mumbled a quiet, “Yes.”

“Ok, this is what we’re going to do,” said Giles firmly, taking charge, “Xander, Oz; I want you two to open the locker on the far left, and make up some suitable bedding. If we’re going to stay here a couple of days, we’re going to need to get some decent sleep. Willow, take Buffy over to the washroom facilities at the back, and help her get cleaned up. Angel, you can help me get the weapons organised and put back together. And Faith... get some more rest.”

Oz scrambled over to the locker, as Xander gently handed Buffy over to Willow. Angel walked over to the second steel locker, and opened it, revealing a stockpile of weapons; from simple stakes to more advanced crossbows. Faith openly pouted from the corner where she sat.

As she led Buffy over to the makeshift washroom, Willow asked, “Are you going to be ok?”

Buffy sniffled and said, “I would have been a little better off had I known to expect him... of course, knowing him, I should have known he would have shown up. It’s so like him.”

“Just remember, no matter what, you’ll always have me and Xander to talk to.”

“Thanks, Will,” replied Buffy, giving her best friend a hug, “You always know how to make me feel better.”

Willow just smiled, then said, “So what do you think of Giles’ attempt to redecorate?”

Buffy quickly surveyed the small, dingy bathroom with it’s distinct lack of indoor plumbing, wrinkled her nose, and said, “I think he’d best not quit his day job.”

The two girls started to giggle, and Buffy wiped her eyes with a piece of tissue.

“Ready to face the world?” Willow asked.

“As ready as I’ll ever be!” answered Buffy with a slight smile.

Together, they entered the main area of the church, and began helping Oz and Xander with setting up cots and distributing bedding. In total, there were six cots, arranged in a circle around a small electric heater whose extension cord trailed off into a corner where several overhead lights were also plugged in. Giles, surrounded by a group of people who’s cooking experience was limited to ordering out and using a microwave, deftly prepared enough vegetable soup for everyone over a small gas-powered stove.

As the sat down to eat, Willow suddenly noticed that the number of people outnumbered the cots, and said, “Giles, I think we’re short a cot.”

“I don’t need one,” Angel said quickly, “I’ll be keeping watch while you sleep.”

“I don’t think I’m going to be needing one either,” added Oz, who quickly put his bowl of soup down and rose to his feet. “Did anyone happen to bring any chains or shackles?” he asked weakly.

“Ohmigosh!” exclaimed Willow as she checked her watch, “The sun sets in a few minutes, and it’s the third night of the full moon!”

Without the aid of windows, no one had noticed as the day had slipped into the evening. Giles jumped up, and started rooting through the locker that held the weapons. Within seconds, he emerged victoriously with a set of shackles in hand. He looped in securely through a ring set in the wall, far from the cots, and fastened the two proximal ends to Oz’s feet.

“It’s not much, but it should suffice in a pinch,” said Giles, as Oz attempted to finish his soup before he transformed, “Perhaps you can keep watch over him with the tranquilliser gun, Angel.”

“Sure, no problem,” Angel answered, watching with great interest as Oz pushed his bowl aside and began to moan softly as a vague feeling of nausea washed over him.

Oz doubled over, then fell to his knees. His face became distorted, and he slowly took on more lupine features. Within minutes, he was on all fours, sniffing out his surroundings in the form of the werewolf. The remains of his clothes lay loosely at his feet, having been destroyed by both his changing body during the transformation, and by his fiery temper after. As a wild animal, Oz could not tolerate the feeling of clothing restraining his body.

“No matter how many times I see it,” Willow told Buffy, “I’ll never get used to it.”

In answer, Oz lifted his head, and uttered a single blood-curling howl.