I have no idea where this idea came from. It just popped in my head. It's a collection of oneshots about the friendship between Faith and Buffy.

I don't own Buffy. Never have never will. ( I would like to own Angel though. To bad i can't.)

Grateful

Faith POV

The first time you see her you instantly know who she is. Buffy the slayer. Your sister-in-arms.

You have heard dozen of stories about her. You know everything there is to know. She does not know who you are. She does not care.

And you look at her and you see she has it all.

A perfect life. Great friends. A boy that likes her. A watcher that would die for her. A mother that loves her.

All the things you never had. All the things you'll never have.

And you want it. You want it all. You want everything in her life to be yours. Especially her safety. You want it. She is not a sharer. She does not like you.

You know this from the moment you meet her.

And you know you are different. Like light and dark. Day and night. Complete opposites of each other. Perhaps that is a good thing. You'll complete each other. You'll work great as a team.

But deep down you know you can't work together with her. You don't work in a team. You're not good at it. You've never tried it.

Perhaps you should. But she is so possessive. As if you'll take everything away from her. You won't.

and you ignore the fact that for a moment you did want her life. It doesn't matter. –

But the second she looks at you outside that hotel. When you tell her the story of your watcher you see something in her eyes. It's not pity (which is what you thought it would be). It's understanding. It's pain.

'First rule of slaying Faith. Don't die!'

She makes it sound like it's simple. Like that's all there is to it. And for a moment you wonder how many times she has told herself this. And for a moment you wonder about her life. How many things she has gone trough.

At the end of the day you sit in the bronze next to her. And for the first time you talk. Really talk. And you think perhaps you can get along.

And she looks at you. And you know what she is thinking about. About everything that has happened in your life. About everything that has happened to you. But you don't want to talk about it.

And she asks you if you want to drink something. And you smile.

And you hear all the things she doesn't say.

I'm sorry I couldn't help you. I'm sorry I couldn't be there for you. I'm sorry I couldn't safe your watcher. I'm sorry.

But she doesn't say them. And for that you are grateful.