note(s): "Judgement," shmudgement - never happened. Council got Faith while she was still in holding in LA. Prelude to Siamese Whispers.

spoiler(s): BtVS s4e21 - Primeval

The Ghost in You
Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfiction
by cheebs!

"How long has she been like this?"

"Roughly a week, sir."

"And you say she..."

"Just began speaking in tongues, sir." The youngest of the three men nodded his dark head vigorously. "Happened right at the end of a seizure."

"She seized, and then began speaking 'in tongues,' as you put it?" the eldest man inquired, needing the timeline straight in his head.

"Well, no...didn't even stop shaking 'fore she started screaming, then jumped up and started spouting some nonsense about power...right scary it was." A chill ran through him with the memory, making him shudder.

" 'You cannot hope to grasp the source of our power,' " the towheaded doctor quoted from a dim memory of a spell learnt by all, but cast only once in the long history of the Council.

"Yeah, that was it!" The young man was excited now. "She started fighting...we tried to sedate her, but we couldn't get close - all flying fists and feet, she was." A bemused expression settled over his face as he scratched at his head in what his arrogant companion would think analogous to a simian. "I thought you said this one didn't have much training? She drove Smith into the wall with her feet - made Lee look like a wimp."

"Was Lee the one...?" The eldest couldn't bring himself to voice the horror of her crime.

"Lee! Bruce Lee, greatest martial artist of all time?" He spoke with great disbelief and youthful enthusiasm. "He'd've needed wires to do what she did - staying in the air that long, anyway."

"Then Smith was...?" the grey-haired man prodded impatiently.

The blond nodded, suddenly grim. "Reached right into his chest and ripped out his heart, and --" He held up his hand and clenched it in a tight fist. "Then she passed out. When she woke up, she was like this." He gestured to the heavily barred window, scarcely large enough for two men to put both their faces to simultaneously.

The subject of their discussion lay on the other side, curled into fetal position, arms wrapped around her knees. Her dark eyes stared fixedly at a space as empty as her expression. As if sensing their gazes on her, she looked straight at them, her features far too haggard for one who had just turned seventeen.

Her eyes flashed gold.

Quentin Travers leapt back from the door, as if burned by the cold steel.

"Sir?" The brunet took a step toward Travers, who put up a hand, signalling he was all right.

"I'll send the mages down to deal with her..." He withdrew a phial of urine-coloured liquid from his pocket and held it out to the young doctor. "...after you get this into her, Blaine."

Howard Blaine took the phial with some trepidation. "Are you certain of this? We've never had the opportunity --"

"And you shan't now," the Elder Councilman interrupted. "She's dangerous - you received a personal demonstration. She is still under the influence of that spell, and we have no idea to what degree. I want her incapacitated before she kills anyone else."

"Yes, sir," Dr. Blaine responded dully, removing a dart from his holster and loading the noxious substance into it. "As the Council wills, so shall it be done."

Travers smiled at the obedient younger man. "You're a good man, Howard." He clapped a hand on the doctor's shoulder and brushed past him, leaving him to his duty.

As he watched the Council Head walk away, Howard Blaine wondered - not for the first time - if there was any good left in him.