Faith was cold. Not an entirely new sensation for her, but on this warm night it was definitely something to sit up and take notice off. She was freezing her ass off. Her dark jacket can't warm her now, and the slayer knows she beyond help.
'Cause, it wasn't the outside that was cold. She was warm as a radiator on the outside - must be that Sunnydale breeze. On the inside, she was dying. That's what it felt like; like what little there was left of her should was slowly being worn away, and there was no one she could go to. No one she could call out to. No one who would help her, even if she did ask for help.
The Slayer was supposed to be alone, right? No friends, no family, nobody except her watcher. A lone free ranger, right? What was that word? Spartan…Slayers were supposed to have a Spartan existence. Bare essentials, nothing more. No back-up or gang of Scoobies. And Faith, she'd played it all by the book; they'd been a team, her and her watcher. They didn't need anyone else. That was until Kakistos turned up in town and then Faith was alone. Without anyone, not even her safety net.
Faith sighed and threw her head back to look at the dark sky; she wasn't alone. With or without her Watcher, with or without Buffy, she still had the Mayor. And he was all she needed. He cared for her like a real father; not just some jerk who did her Mom then ran off at the first sight of a round stomach. To him, she wasn't just some nameless face in a long line of Slayers, and she wasn't just some slutty teenager to use for his own means then abandon when he'd finished; he really cared for her. Maybe even loved her. And that meant the world.
Her feet pounded a rhythm between the graves, as the brunette slayer continued her search for someone. For once, that someone wasn't just any vampire she could take her aggressions out on, or any random guy that would make her feel wanted – even if it was just for the night – but for someone specific. For someone's who's blood would be needed in the preparations for the ascension. She didn't really pause to ask why; she'd long since found out that questions really weren't wanted or required.
Thing was, the mayor – in his own, cheery manner – had seemed fairly anxious about this guy. Kept repeating that it as important that she didn't kill him, that he needed him alive for everything to work out. Kinda made Faith curious, but this slayer knows better than to try and cool her curiosity. He might care about her, but he wasn't past doing the dirty on her either. She had to be careful, and not throw her weight around. Guy like Mayor Wilkins could arrange for a girl to be dropped in an eye blink.
So, Faith hunted. It was weird being out in one of Sunnydale's many cemeteries again, out for a kill. Or, a capture, but it was all the same thing, right? Violence, punches, and the ultimate victory. Only, this time her purpose was a whole lot darker than it used to be.
She didn't mind this whole 'evil' gig. Y'got more than your fair share of benefits, an indestructible boss who'd watch your back, and the dental plan was ace. She didn't need Buffy, or Angel, or Giles. Had been stupid to think that she did. Was stupid to think that they needed her. She was just a spare part, unneeded and uncalled for. Her calling was all an accident, because Buffy was a 'special' slayer, with friends and family and a boyfriend and a watcher who fucking cared. Brought back to life by the almighty King of Geeks that was Xander Harris, and the rest was history.
Sometimes, Faith wonders what it could have been like. If Buffy had stayed dead, and Faith had been allowed to live far away from the blonde's shadow; had been allowed to be a slayer in her own right, instead of constantly trying to be more like the almighty B. Things woulda been different, she knew that much.
Maybe she wouldn't have swapped over, but that seemed fairly unlikely – she liked this existence, and going back to the 'noble' high-and-mighty road that Buffy was so fond of travelling along wasn't high on her agenda – but maybe, just maybe, things wouldn't have worked out this way. Hell, it coulda – shoulda – been her with the cool watcher and the helpful friends. Not stuck-up woe-is-me Buffy. The other slayer truly didn't deserve the power that the calling gave to her; slow little B didn't even understand what the strength in her skinny little limbs meant.
Did Faith?
The dark slayer kicked out at a random gravestone in frustration; the guy she was looking here was supposed to be around here somewhere, and she didn't like being left alone with her thoughts. Gave her too much time to…well….think. And recently, her thoughts hadn't been about pink streamers and balloons. They almost always managed to eventually wind themselves around to a certain perky slayer, much to her disgust. She'd rather be thinking of…weapons, or blood, or death…y'know; something kinda morbid. Would fit in with the whole 'evil' look she had going. But, no. That would simply be far too easy – her head had to be filled with images of peach coloured lips, an all-too-cute smile and a slayer who was so squeaky clean – not to mention straight – that it was sickening. Actually sickening.
Her eyes lit up when she heard something, and a perfected wicked grin quickly moved over her face; groaning, rabid mumbling and the occasional cry for help. Sounded like someone was in trouble. And, seeing as she'd made sure that B and her Boy were safely tucked up together, she was going to go out on a limb and say that it was the guy – the creature – she was looking for. After all, the Boss had said he'd probably be in a bad state.
Of course, if it wasn't who she was looking for, and just someone else in genuine need of help, then….then….at least she'd have some poor wanker to take her aggression out on, right? She could do with a helpless victim round about now, and if the Mayor's guy was a no show, she'd just have to make do with whatever she could find. Though, some part of her knew that the guy she was rapidly descending onto was the one she was looking for; probably one of her slayer senses picking up on something not-quite-all-human.
Man, the mayor had been extremely right; this guy looked like he'd had the shit beaten out of him. His shirt – white, obviously. All the good guys had to be squeaky clean and white, right, though personally Faith didn't want to be the one to try and get blood stains out of a once-white shirt – was ripped almost to shreds, and the scraps of material that were left looked as though they'd been thoroughly dunked in the red stuff. The pale chest underneath was a maze of various cuts and nasty looking bruises. Faith was extremely glad she hadn't been in the bad books of whatever had done this to him.
His face wasn't even recognisable as human, it was so covered in blood and bruises. That would be 'cause he's not. Mayor made that perfectly clear, Faith thought, trying to banish all traces of sympathy far away into the corners. Just because he'd had it rough, didn't mean that she should go all soft on him. She pushed away the guilt that threatened to move in on her as she slammed a black boot into his stomach – not that she really needed to give him a beating to make it easier to take him back to Boss, but it would make her feel better – and even managed a small smile as he groaned and feebly made an attempt at scrambling away.
Her eyes could just about make out the some of the words that he was mumbling, that he carried on mumbling even when she pressed a foot onto his back, easily pinning him to the ground. No…help….stop…ascension…. There was also a load of stuff said in some other language Faith couldn't, and didn't want to, understand. It sounded like a pitiful cry for help, and this slayer was cutting back on all the pity. "Shut up and get up, alright?"
She was able to keep the anxious tone out of her voice easy enough – she'd been covering up her feelings for this long, it was so easy to keep up the confident façade – and just wanted out of there. He was making her feel uncomfortable; why at the mayor sent her anyway? This guy was so weak even a normal human would be able to deliver him.
She was glad to find that his incessant pleading had stopped, though the silence that surrounded them was almost worse; it felt like the rest of the world was watching her take this basically defenceless guy, then lead him to what would definitely be his death. She didn't like that feeling, and really wished it was someone else who was there instead of her. Still, the mayor wanted this guy, and she sure as hell wasn't going to disappoint the one man who'd ever cared for her.
As the man in front of his slowly struggled to get to his feet, Faith decided that he was moving way too slowly. She reluctantly bent down, grabbing at the last shred of the material around his neck and pulling him up in one sharp stroke. The sound of his terrified gasp fell on deaf ears however, and his struggles to break away from her were pointless; she was much stronger than him, and barely even registered the movements.
She let her eyes harden as she took in the fear in his eyes, the frenzied breathing of someone who knows they're awaiting their death and impossibly light blue eyes that were pleading with her. Begging her to let him go. She tossed her dark as night eyes away from his daylight ones; this was just another job, another task given to her by the Mayor. It didn't matter that taking this guy was making her feel dirty; she'd killed already, probably would again. Y'couldn't get much more dirty.
Faith put her head down, and began to half-lead, half-drag him towards the car that was waiting, but not before stopping to cuff his wrists. They weren't really needed – it wasn't as if he was in any fit state to escape from a slayer, but…she was just kind of attached to them. Not in the physical sense however, but she'd had a whole load of fun times with those cuffs. Figured she might as well put them to a good use now.
As the Rogue Slayer walked, a breeze tickled around her legs, causing a shiver to crawl down her spine. Faith was cold.