"There!" Lucy Micheles triumphantly declared after tying off the final gold bead onto the end of the very last cornrow.

Stepping back to admire her hours of mental labor while fast asleep which had culminated in turning a shaggy head full of dreadlocks into a definitely stylish hairstyle of neat narrow braids with golden rings set at regular intervals throughout, Lucy next waved a hand in a casual gesture. This produced a hand mirror materializing from out of thin air that fell onto Lucy's waiting hand, to then be offered towards the other bewildered female standing there.

Uncertainly taking the mirror, Sineya fumbled with it until this Primal Slayer caught sight of her reflection in the mirror's surface. Gazing in astonishment at her newest look, Sineya spent the following couple of minutes turning her head back and forth and moving the mirror around at eye level to examine further how striking she now appeared. Eventually, this seemingly young girl wearing facial paint and ragged fur garments wandered away into the dreamscape, continuing to ignore anything else in her vicinity while more preoccupied with staring into the mirror Sineya was still clutching.

Even when Sineya stalked past Faith drinking from a beer bottle, only a half-hearted growl was sent by the Primal towards where Faith smirked at the way older Slayer. Finishing her mouthful of Westvleteren 12 ("Hey, it's a damn dream, so I'm gonna drink somethin' I'll never have a chance to otherwise, 'kay?"), Faith in turn strode over to where Lucy was looking quite pleased with herself.

Pointing her beer bottle in a somewhat threatening manner at the other Slayer, Faith demanded, "Awright, kid, that's the last fuckin' straw! Ya got mad skillz, girl, and don't let anybody tell ya different! Gettin' what I call The Original Bitch to change her awful hair? Havin' some of the smoothest moves I've ever seen from a Slayer? Bein' able to chat with me in yer dreams? 'Cept, even with alla that, every time ya tried ta get some from Mr. Messed-Up-But-Still-Caramel-Cute, it all went ta shit! What the hell's up with that, anyways?"

Lucy now had a distinctly rueful expression upon her pretty face after this lecture. She nonetheless replied, "Listen, Faith, from what you've told me, becoming a Slayer doesn't fix everything wrong in your life! I've always been shy a lot starting when I was growing up, and it got even worse after high school. My first panic attacks forced me to finish college through online courses. That didn't exactly help me meet guys except for the really creepy ones in chat rooms. Raj was the best I could find in real life who genuinely understood my problems. Or, at least those I could actually tell him."

Abruptly having her regretful mood changing into actual grumpiness, Lucy glowered at an unimpressed Faith. "I don't care what his smart friends think, a secret identity complicates your life beyond belief. On our first date, I had to sneak away to deal with a vampire, but I managed to blame it on feeling too pressured at the time. The same thing happened when Raj caught me behind the restaurant when I was just about to jump over the fence."

"Hey, kid, least ya got a damn fine kiss through the chain-link outta that," Faith reminded Lucy.

Squinting at Faith, Lucy distracted from her recent warm thoughts of that wonderful smooch then wondered, "What's with the kid stuff? Not only were we born the same year, my birthday's a few months before yours!"

Draining her beer bottle at one last gulp and then tossing it over her shoulder where the container then quietly vanished into the dreamscape, Faith shrugged. "I'm the one ya decided to hook up with in our dreams, 'member? Been dealing with this Slayer shit a helluva lot longer than ya, an' ya know it. I wanna call ya kid, I'm fuckin' gonna."

"Fine," grouched Lucy. She shot Faith a wary look. "About the Slayers and the rest of them, the New Council…they're still okay with our deal?"

A nod came from Faith. "Yeah, alla it took was me pullin' rank. Don't care much what the newbies think a' the Dark Slayer - like I coulda miss what they whisper ta each other over what I done - but at least they're scared 'nuff not to ever cross me. The Scoobies, though, especially Tweed-man, they wanted ta know why. I just said I needed a favor for someone who had real issues over meetin' new people, so would they please do it and keep quiet 'bout a new Slayer? Well, looks like things are goin' fine, right? Ya gettin' what I send there by Fed-Ex, the weapons and old books and magic stuff to ward yer home?"

"Yes, thank you, Faith," Lucy acknowledged. "I also made sure Raj's apartment, Penny and the guys' place, and Howard and Bernadette plus his mothers' homes were warded too. Even though things didn't really work out between me and him, Raj's friends still tried their best to make me feel comfortable around them. Well…maybe not Sheldon exactly, but allowances do have to be made for that very strange man."

Faith let a rather wry look cross her face. "Gotcha. From yer stories and the dreams ya sent me, guy's a weirdo an' a half, but he's a fun one."

A calculating expression then deepened upon Faith's visage. "Talkin' 'bout dreams, there's somethin' I wanna discuss now. It's been workin' okay, us privately chattin' through our naps even with the time difference between LA and Scotland, but sooner or later somethin's gonna come up over Slayer stuff where ya can't handle it on yer own. So…'fore that happens, I wanna do a meet an' greet with ya there in Cali-land."

Lucy swallowed nervously, before speaking, "I hate to admit it, but that's a good idea. However… Look, Faith, I honestly don't want to hurt your feelings, but I'll be terrified throughout it all!" She absently waved a hand around at her dreamscape. "In here, I'm safe, and oddly enough, the same thing applies when I get into the Slayer frame of mind when hunting down vampires and demons. I might get hurt or even killed while fighting our enemies in the dark, but that's entirely different from ordinary situations where nothing bad can possibly happen but I still get frightened about a lot."

Faith then gave Lucy a gentle smile which her New Council co-workers would've sworn the last Slayer to ever be Called as throughout recorded history was incapable of bestowing. "Kid, you've seen my own dreams. Been there, done that, fucked up the t-shirt. Everybody back in Sunnyhell when I first got there, we shoulda done better, but a lotta it was my own fault. I was a scared-pissless little bitch, pushin' away anyone who tried ta help, an' I paid for it. Lotta other people did, too. Don't wanna see that for ya, so we cool with me visitin'? Things get too much, I'll split, no hard feelin's. We can still do the dream talks with each other, anyways."

Taking a deep breath even though she really didn't need it, Lucy soon nodded. "Fine, then. How about…the day after tomorrow? Thursday, eleven a.m. my time? That'll let you leave just after dinner in Scotland, if Miss Rosenberg is going to use her powers to teleport you here. Or, are you going by plane?"

Shaking her head, Faith responded, "Nah, Red owes me big for haulin' her lady's tight ass outta that clusterfuck last month in London. She'll gladly do the mojo to zip me where ya are, Lucy. 'Kay, now that's settled, try not ta get all worked up in advance, awright? I really wanna meet ya in person for once an' all. We're gonna have a good time, lemme tell ya, an' anybody who bothers us, I'll kick their ass higher than the Rocky Mountains!"

Lucy actually grinned at how fervent her new friend sounded. As the dreamscape began to fade, signifying that the Slayers were about to return to their separate beds thousands of miles from each other, Lucy then called out thoughtfully, "Faith, there's something you could do to make me feel much better about us being with each other a few days from now."

"Sure, what?" instantly came from Faith. Thought, her delighted mood over how Lucy was getting into this suddenly altered into genuine caution at how the less-experienced Slayer's expression turned into a very evil smile presently directed right at Faith.

On Thursday night, Willow and Buffy strolled together through the Scots castle corridors down to the witch's workshop where Faith was presumably waiting there. In between catching up with the other's busy lives, Buffy ventured, "Wils, has Faith said anything more about her visit to Los Angeles? I know she's been totally tight-lipped about the new Slayer you found there months ago. Besides us, Dawn, Xan, and Giles were all taken by surprise when she asked to be put in charge of what's-her-name…"

"Lucy Micheles," Willow helpfully prompted Buffy when this blonde didn't finish that last trailed-off statement.

"Right, that one. C'mon, you must know something, what with agreeing to use up all the magic-juice for Faith tonight."

Willow just shrugged. "Sorry, Buffy. Faith asked for this yesterday, and nothing else. Of course, when she, um, took responsibility for Ms. Micheles back then, I got as curious as everyone and did a little snooping, both in the magical and mundane worlds, like I've already told you. Nothing's changed since. Her web design company's doing quite nicely, and from all the reports our New Council Los Angeles branch gets about the oogly-booglys in Pasadena, she's having no problems with the Slayer stuff."

"What about the rest of it?" Buffy frowned.

Blushing, Willow mentioned, "Er, that's private, you understand?" With Buffy's irritated nod, the redhead at her side went on, "From the computers I hacked into, her psychologist's records from recent sessions showed some progress in Ms. Micheles' self-identity issues. She's still having a great deal of trouble with social anxiety, though."

Buffy blinked at where a deadpan Willow was gazing into the distance further up the corridor at the door to her workplace. Knowing they had only a few more moments to talk together, Buffy said incredulously, "And knowing that, you still agreed to have Faith meet this poor woman? Faith, who still makes every straight male in the castle bite their tongues when she saunters past in her tightest jeans? Faith, who got voted four years in a row by the New Council geeks to be the Slayer most likely to meet with Darth Vader and make this movie villain cry like a little baby? Faith, who-"

"I get the point, Buffy. You don't need to beat it to death," snarkily interrupted Willow stopping in front of the workplace door. Putting her fists upon her hips, the witch glowered at her friend since Sunnydale also halting there.

"Hey, not me! Beating something to death is Faith's usual method of wiping out her bad guys," muttered Buffy, "like last St. Patrick's Day, when she grabbed that leprechaun ice statue at the Boston reception and took down a whole vamp nest who decided they wanted fresh food."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Just be glad Faith can't hear you inside there, what with all my shielding. Look, I know you two get along better now, but there are times when both of you forget this, and now's one of them. I have no idea why Faith wants to see Ms. Micheles, but I think she'll behave and not scare the other Slayer too much."

Studying how skeptical Buffy then looked, Willow shrugged again and tried, "Whatever, you probably won't find out now. Faith said she wanted to leave the instant I showed up, so if you're coming in to watch, fine. You can say goodbye, and that'll be it, most likely."

Without giving Buffy a chance to reply, Willow opened the door warded to allow admittance to only herself and the rest of the original Scoobies. The remaining inhabitants of the New Council's castle knew better to even come near her workplace, given the time Andrew came looking for the witch when she didn't want to be disturbed and wound up being transformed into a platypus for the next hour. Still sternly regarding a following Buffy over her shoulder while entering the room, Willow then saw this pouting Slayer stare ahead in abrupt shock.

Turning her head around, Willow also gaped in disbelief at where Faith was impatiently waiting in the middle of the floor pentagram with its many sides outlined in strips of solid silver. A rolling briefcase holding several days' worth of clothes and other vacation needs stood by this Slayer's left leg. Nodding at Willow, Faith then declared, "'Kay, Red, I'm ready ta go. Do yer thing, and I'll see ya an' B there again in maybe a week or so."

There was a frozen silence in the room, with both a stock-still Willow and Buffy continuing to gape at where Faith remained standing in the pentagram. Eventually sighing out loud, Faith urged, "Helloooo? Christ, if I wanted ta take this long, I woulda crammed myself in some jet plane and waited for the stewardess ta tell everyone how ta act in a water landing!"

This evident sarcasm drifting through the air finally spurred Willow into action. Not taking her eyes away from where she was still staring, the witch smoothly waved her hands in mystical gestures. In a flare of bright light, Faith disappeared from the pentagram's center.

At last putting her hands back down, Willow and Buffy kept on gawking at the empty spot where a woman had been a moment before. In due time, Buffy managed, "Well, there aren't that many white chicks who can pull off cornrows, but Faith just showed us she's one of them, right, Wils? I still can't figure out where she got all the gold bling braided in her hair, though."

Author's Note: As far as I know, The Big Bang Theory never mentioned Lucy's last name in any of the episodes, and the online Wiki entries don't either. Therefore, I've given her one based on the last name of the actress who wonderfully played Lucy, Kate Micucci, which is Italian for Mico, a derivation of Michele.