Latter Days by Enigmaticblue

Summary: Set post-Chosen. After the Slayers are activated, the balance between good and evil is disturbed, and the Scoobies are flung to the far corners of the world to respond to the crisis. In the midst of all of this, will they be able to keep their relationships strong? Or will they be divided by circumstances and torn apart by fate? Follows my short story Yesterday.

Author's Notes: Remember how things went after Chosen? Well, forget about all of that, and ignore the comics. This is my version. This series is comprised of Latter Days, Faithfully Dangerous, and Now and Always, and the entire series will be known by the third title. You’ll see why. (And although some of the locations mentioned in this fic exist, this is my world, which means that I’m twisting reality to my own ends.)

“What a beautiful piece of heartache/This has all turned out to be/Lord knows we've learned the hard way/All about healthy apathy…There is a me you would not recognize, dear/Call it the shadow of myself/And if the music starts before I get there/Dance without me, you dance so gracefully/I really think I'll be okay/They've taken a toll, these latter days/Nothing like sleeping on a bed of nails/Nothing much here but our broken dream/Oh, but baby, if all else fails/Nothing is ever quite what it seems…” ~Over the Rhine, “Latter Days”

Chapter 14: Rio de Janeiro, Brazil

“…Faith leaves for Los Angeles in two days. I have to admit that I’m going to miss her. I won’t miss Davis, but I’m glad that Giles is letting us keep Arnold and Rhoda. We need the extra help, even though the Demos problem is under control. Giles wants to set up a second school here, and a third in Cleveland…” ~Excerpt from an email from Willow Rosenberg to Xander Harris

Zoë sat against the wall, watching the girls train. “Very good, Teresa,” she called as the girl executed a flying kick that sent Erna flying. “Erna, you’re dropping your guard on the left.”

“Ja,” Erna replied, sounding distracted. “I know.”

She turned her attention to Rute, who was sparring with Rhoda, while the two newest Slayers, Ximena and Gracia, practiced basic defense moves against one another. Zoë had been just in time to prevent Gracia from getting killed by a Polenas demon, and the resulting injury and poisoning had kept her in bed for a couple of days—once she got them both back to Rio.

There was something to be said for nearly dying in an attempt to protect a Slayer, though; it tended to build trust very quickly.

Davis and Arnold had been sent after the two Slayers that the coven had located, but that didn’t explain why Willow seemed to be upset and distracted. They had grown close quickly, and Zoë knew that not all was right. She’d been acting differently ever since the phone call with Miriam, and there was no way that it had anything to do with the two newly discovered Slayers.

She let them spar until it was obvious that Gracia and Ximena were ready to drop. “That’s enough,” she called. “Very good job, everyone. Very good.”

The local Slayers left in a group, chattering excitedly in a mixture of Portuguese and Spanish. Rhoda and Erna came to stand next to her. “How are you feeling?” Rhoda asked solicitously.

“I’m completely back to normal,” Zoë assured her, rising a little stiffly. One of the longer term side effects of the venom was stiffness in the joints, but that would pass in time. “I’ll be fine.”

“I wish I was staying here,” Erna said wistfully. “I swear, I could kill Davis some day.”

Zoë winced but couldn’t argue. The man was nearly as annoying as Kennedy had been, and that was saying something.

“Before you do, call one of us,” Rhoda said. “We’ll convince Giles to assign Davis to Antarctica or something.”

“There are no Slayers there,” Erna replied.

Rhoda grinned broadly. “Exactly.”

Zoë laughed, unable to help herself. “You could always adjust his attitude yourself, Erna.”

“Don’t tempt me,” she replied. “I should shower. Rhoda?”

The two girls walked off arm in arm, their heads bent together, dark hair contrasting with light. Zoë couldn’t help but feel proud of what they were creating here; the camaraderie was very real, and it felt right, although there were times when the sheer number of girls was a bit overwhelming.

She passed by the study and caught sight of Willow sitting behind the desk, her head in her hands. Slipping inside as quietly as she could, Zoë eased the door shut behind her. “What’s wrong, Willow?”

“Nothing,” the witch replied, shaking her head. “How are you?”

Zoë wasn’t about to be thrown off the scent. “You’ve been out of sorts since you called Miriam other day,” she observed, taking a seat across from the other woman. “Would you like to tell me about it?”

“Miriam asked me to hurt my best friend,” Willow began. “What’s worse is that I agreed to do it.”

“I’m not sure I understand,” Zoë said carefully.

Willow shook her head. “I don’t think I do either. Miriam made me promise not to talk about it, and I don’t know much more than that. From what she said, Buffy’s life is going to depend on it, but the consequences to someone else are going to be devastating.”

Zoë shook her head. “The sight is notoriously unreliable, Willow. There’s no telling what will actually happen in the future. Things may change drastically.”

“She saw it in the bowl that Buffy got,” Willow said ruefully. “It always gives a true sight, and it won’t show anything at all if the future is too open.”

Zoë winced, knowing that with those odds, she wouldn’t want to be the one entrusted with the task. “It’s a long way off. Perhaps there will be a way to manage at the time.”

“Maybe.” Willow’s tone was dubious. “It’s possible.” She summoned a smile. “How are the girls coming along?”

~~~~~

Faith had to admit that she was profoundly grateful that her plan for dealing with the Demos had been successful—success being measured by lots of dead demons and no dead Slayers or Watchers. She walked into the burned-out shell of the building that they had controlled up to a few days ago and knew they wouldn’t be back. Even better, Willow’s shielding spell had prevented the fire from damaging any of the nearby buildings.

She’d excused herself from the afternoon training session to see a little of the city, not knowing when the opportunity to see Rio would come up again. Faith wanted to enjoy the sun and sights for just a little while; she wanted to walk the beach and watch the people. Prison had taught her a new appreciation of nature.

When she returned to the training center, Faith was feeling sunburned and relaxed, and definitely ready for the next adventure.

“How was your walk?” Zoë asked as she entered the study.

Faith shrugged. “Good. I don’t know when I’ll be back, so I wanted to see a few of the sights.”

“Makes sense,” Willow responded. “Arnold called tonight. He has his Slayer and should be back tomorrow.”

“Davis?” Faith asked, only caring about his fate because he represented another soldier, and he was responsible for the welfare of a Slayer.

Zoë shook her head. “He hasn’t checked in yet, but it’s hard to say whether that means trouble, or if it’s just him.”

Faith shrugged. “He’ll get knocked down a peg or two eventually. He was almost civil by the time we routed the Demos.”

“They’ll probably be back,” was Zoë’s glum opinion. “Where there’s a vacuum, there’s usually someone willing to fill it.”

Faith grunted, knowing that the Watcher was probably right, and that there wasn’t anything they could do to change it. The only thing to do was to keep fighting and hope it made enough of a difference.

“Giles called,” Willow inserted, changing the subject. “He wanted you to contact him when you got in.”

Faith glanced at the clock. “It’s going to be late there, right?”

Willow shook her head. “He didn’t care. There are some instructions he has for you regarding Angel and Wesley.”

She frowned. “What instructions? He already told me I need to pump Angel for information and recruit Wes. I have a feeling that it’s going to be a pain in the ass to do either one of those things, let alone both.”

Willow looked sympathetic, but shrugged. “All I know is what Giles told me.” She looked unhappy. “I have a feeling there’s a lot going on that Giles and the coven aren’t telling us.”

“Can you blame them?” Zoë asked gently. “You know as well as I do that he’s trying to put out fires all over the world. Keeping us all informed of every new development would simply be impossible.”

“It’s not that,” Willow quickly said. “It’s the big things.”

“Like what?” Faith asked suspiciously.

“Secret missions,” she replied. “Secrets in general. I don’t know. It’s just a feeling; maybe it doesn’t mean anything.”

Faith had developed a healthy respect for Willow’s instincts; the girl was smart and a hell of a witch. If there was a disturbance in the Force, she’d be the first to know about it. “I’ll keep my ears open and let you know what goes down in L.A.,” she promised.

Willow took a deep breath. “I’d appreciate it. I’m still really curious about that amulet. The coven hasn’t been able to do much with it yet.”

“Yeah, sure. I should probably call Giles before it gets any later, though.”

“Make the call from in here.” Zoë’s tone made it more of a suggestion than her words indicated. “It’ll be more private that way.”

When Faith nodded, the other two women left the room, and she dialed the familiar number. It was strange to think that she had the head Watcher’s phone number memorized at this point, but then she often found it strange that she was an active Slayer again, and not behind bars.

“Hello?” Giles’ voice was groggy, and she winced, knowing that she’d woken him up.

“It’s Faith. Willow said you wanted me to call.”

“I did say that, didn’t I?” he muttered. “It seemed like a good idea a few hours ago.”

“I can call back later,” she offered.

Giles sighed. “No, I’m awake now, and I did want you to call when you could. I need you to do your best to make sure that Angel hasn’t gone over to the other side. I realize that you two are close, but it’s imperative that we ensure that he won’t eventually be an enemy.”

Faith didn’t like the sound of that, but she had to admit that Giles had a point. She’d met Angelus, and she had no desire to do so again. “You got it, Giles. I knew that already, though.”

“Yes, well, there’s something else.”

“Isn’t there always?”

“It’s possible that Wolfram and Hart would be in possession of other artifacts like the amulet that could be of some help, or that they would have a better, faster way of locating Slayers. I’d like you to find out as much as you can.”

Faith was a little dubious of her abilities in that realm. “I doubt Angel’s going to let me rummage around in his vault.”

“Have Wesley help you,” Giles responded. “And impress upon him the idea that we need him desperately. We simply do not have enough trained Watchers.”

It was pretty obvious that Giles didn’t know Wes all that well; Faith was pretty sure that just telling him that the Council wanted him to come back wasn’t going to be enough, although she wasn’t sure what would be. “I’ll do what I can.”

“That’s all I ask, Faith. And be careful. If Angel does present a risk—”

“I can take care of myself,” she said, cutting him off, knowing what he wanted to say. She’d refused to kill Angelus the last time she’d been in L.A., and her feelings on the matter hadn’t changed.

“Of course. Take care.”

His tone was stiff, and she felt a pang of regret for being short. “I’ll keep you informed.”

“See that you do. Good luck.”

The dial tone echoed in her ear, and Faith put the phone down, wondering if she really knew what she was doing. Shrugging, she rose from the desk and decided that the only thing to do was to hope for the best.

Flying by the seat of her pants seemed to be the only approach in a situation like this, and planning had never really been her thing, anyway.

~~~~~

Willow returned from the airport to find Davis and Zoë already at loggerheads. With Faith gone, there seemed to be a power vacuum he insisted on filling, and he was using his age and experience to hammer his point home.

“I don’t see the point of this,” Zoë said angrily. “We were doing quite well without you.”

“I think we both know who’s more qualified to take charge here,” Davis shot back. “Now that Faith is gone—”

“I’m in charge,” Willow stated flatly. “Neither one of you have seven years on a Hellmouth, which makes me the most experienced.” She threw an apologetic look at Zoë, who shrugged.

Davis wasn’t quite so sanguine. “You’re no Watcher.”

“No, but I could turn you into a toad,” she shot back, ignoring the giggles from the Slayers who were looking on. “I think that means that I win. Besides, Giles has a new assignment for you. If you’d checked in, you would know that already.” Willow took a deep breath. “Would you like to introduce me to the new Slayer?”

Linda spoke fluent, if heavily accented, English, and it was immediately clear that she didn’t care much for Davis. Willow knew that they were short on Watchers, but Davis was doing more harm than good at present. Giles had indicated that his next assignment would keep him out of trouble, but she had no idea how that was going to work.

When Davis had gone off to call Giles—probably to complain about her high-handed approach—Willow turned to Zoë. “Sorry about that.”

The woman shook her head. “Don’t worry about it, Willow. When you get right down to it, someone has to be in charge, and I know you won’t abuse the power.”

There might have been a point when she would have, but Willow knew that the blonde Watcher was right. She’d long since realized the importance of teamwork. “I hope not,” was all she said. “Have you finished the training session?” she asked, glancing at the darkened window. “If so, I think it might be time to patrol.”

Willow let Zoë divide the girls up into teams; she had been doing most of the training, and she knew their strengths and weaknesses better than Willow did. She did note that Zoë went with the group with the newest Slayer, and paired the other girls with either Erna or Rhoda. Everyone was likely safer that way.

When they had gone, Willow went to the office, where Davis was still on the phone with Giles. She stood at the doorway, listening to Davis’ side of the conversation. It was clear that he was protesting his treatment, and equally clear that Giles was giving him very short shrift.

He hung up the phone, muttering curses in German under his breath. Although Willow didn’t speak German, she didn’t need to; she could understand well enough from his tone. “The Council isn’t the same anymore.”

Davis whirled to face her. “Were you eavesdropping?”

“I wanted to talk to you,” she replied, not quite answering his question. “Where is Giles sending you and Erna?”

Davis glared at her, but responded anyway. “Back to England, then to Germany. We’re to replace Buffy and the other Slayer there.”

“Vi,” Willow filled in. “That’s one of your problems, you know.”

“I have no problem.”

“Don’t you?” she inquired. “You’re unhappy with how the Council is being run, that the people in charge are Slayers and amateurs.”

His face hardened. “So what if I am?”

“You’ll get yourself and others killed with that attitude,” Willow shot back. “Maybe Watchers were supposed to look out for their Slayers before, but now they look out for each other. Things have changed, and the sooner you figure that out, the happier you’ll be.”

His face flushed. “My family has served the Council for centuries,” he replied in a low voice. “I trained for years, studied hard to be given my own potential.”

“And now you have a Slayer, and you’re completely alienating her.” Willow sighed. “Just think about it, okay? Because if you can’t work as a team, you’ll both be killed.”

Davis turned away. “I don’t wish to talk about it further.”

“Suit yourself,” Willow muttered, turning to leave the room.

She comforted herself with the knowledge that Davis’ presence in Munich would allow Buffy to return to England and Spike. From the few conversations and emails she’d shared with her friend, Willow knew how hard the separation had been on her.

Willow sighed. She’d been missing Tara again recently, her breakup with Kennedy reminding her of the other poor decisions she’d made that had led to her last broken relationship. The circumstances were completely different, of course, but Willow couldn’t help but think that she’d used Kennedy to mask the grief she’d still been feeling.

Closing the door of her bedroom behind her, Willow let the grief roll over her again, taking just a moment to wallow before pulling out the magic book she’d been using to research spells that could come in handy. As powerful as she was, that didn’t mean she could skip practicing, and there were that many more people relying on her now.

She was determined not to fail.