Title: The Waltons We Ain't
Author: Vesica
Rating: R for adult themes and language
Warnings: Hints of femmeslash
Characters: Faith, The Mayor, Buffy
Genre: Drama
Summary: After her betrayal of the Scoobies became apparent, Faith was more alone than ever. Or so she thought. Her new boss' paternal leanings were becoming a burden and then there were the dreams that wouldn't leave her be. Life is odd when one is the Rogue Slayer.
Disclaimer: Not mine. No profit or personal gain is being made from this fic. Quite the contrary in fact – I bled for this damn thing. All Hail the true owners of Buff and friends.
Author's Note 1: Written for perries as part of CookieDough101's Faith-Fic-A-Thon. She requested Faith and Mayor interacting in the odd father-daughter way they had and sexual tension with Buffy. She wanted no character bashing, except for any that is 'in character', and no happy fluff between Faith and Buffy.
Author's Note 2: The dialogue in italics in the first few paragraphs is directly quoted from Episode 51, Enemies. Credit where credit is due.
"Well, you win some, you lose some. From where I'm sitting, it's batting average that counts. So you lost some friends."
Faith shrugged dismissively. "I wouldn't exactly call them friends."
The Mayor looked at her closely, not buying her false bravado. "Well, what are you worried about? Chin up! You don't see me looking disappointed. Heck, no. You know why? Because I know you'll always have me, Faith. I'm the best, the most important friend you'll ever have. Besides, you know, once the Ascenscion starts, the 'in' crowd you're so concerned about? Whoo! They'll be lucky if there's enough left of them to fill a pothole. Promise."
The way he said it she almost believed it; that it didn't matter that her friends had played her, that they would never speak to her again, that she was on her own - again. Technically, she didn't blame them, since she had been trying to unleash Angelus on them all. Well, actually she did kind of blame them. It wasn't like anyone had gotten killed or even maimed. They had quite a little clique going on; the 'inner circle' could make a million bad choices and still be cool. But her – she was out. And good riddance to them – with their stupid little study groups in the library and endless hanging at the Bronze, wishing they were at a real party, and their 'We Are So Good' merit badges. Watching paint dry was more fun than they were. Still, it hurt more than she cared to think about.
"Still unhappy? Okey doke. I've got two words that are going to make all the pain go away." He paused a moment and proceeded to say two words she certainly wasn't expecting. "Miniature golf."
Faith looked at him for a long moment trying to figure out if he was serious. She gave up, laughing and shaking her head.
"I was serious. Have you seen the new place being built off of Oak?"
She had wondered what was behind the large fences surrounding the lot but since no vamps had been hanging around, she'd had no reason to do the whole trespassing thing. "Yeah, Around the World or something?"
"That's the one. Grand Opening is next week but we could go for a sneak peek. Both the courses are done."
"You own the place, boss?"
He smiled at that, his usual odd, 'aw shucks' sort of smile. "You could say I own the owner. Does that mean you want to try it out?"
Stranger things had happened in Sunnydale than the Mayor playing mini golf with a teenager wanted for murder and currently in hiding from the Slayer. Faith knew they had, but as she fished her left shoe out from under the couch she couldn't think of a single one. Looking around for her right shoe, she wondered how she managed to misplace so many things when she had only been in the apartment for a week. Maybe it was because she knew this was it. This was her place for good and not just a stop until the rent came due or she had to beat the crap out of one of the other tenants for not understand the meaning of the word 'No'. Only a week and it felt like home. She spotted her other shoe in the corner behind the punching bag. She hastily slipped it on, hopping one-footed across the room while looking around for her keys. Finding them under an empty pizza box she dropped them in her pocket and turned with a look of anticipation.
"So, we are really going to go play miniature golf?"
For a hundred-year-old guy with no kids she knew of and who had spent every moment of free time planning to annihilate a town, the Mayor was wicked good at mini golf. He had kicked her ass on the first course, scoring two holes-in-one within the first five holes. When he managed a third, hooking the ball around a steep curve and through the moving doors of the Babylon Gates, she had just stared at him.
He gave a shrug. "What can I say? I'm evil."
"I must have missed the Evil Overlord's Guide to Putt-Putt," she grumbled as the swinging doors knocked her ball back up the green towards her for the fourth time.
By the time they started the second course, she was out for blood. She wasn't sure Slayer powers made one any better at mini golf than the average Joe, but she intended to find out. She took her shots carefully, sinking a few holes-in-one herself, and by the 12th hole was in the lead by 3 strokes. Her luck continued and as she sank her final putt a smile of pure, untainted joy broke through.
She jumped around in a tiny circle, "I won. I won. Haha! Take that, Mr. I-Own-This-Town!"
The Mayor just smiled and she began to wonder.
"You didn't let me win, did you?"
He said nothing, replacing their clubs with great care and tidying up the scorecard display.
"Well? Did you?"
When he refused to look her in the eye, she knew. "It doesn't count if you let me win," she mumbled, annoyed by how excited the thought of winning some stupid game had made her.
The Mayor held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, I let you win. Though judging from that endzone shuffle you just did, it did succeed at cheering you up."
She wasn't giving in that easily. She fixed him with a cool stare.
"Faith, you're on my team now. One thing about my team – we always win. It may not be fair, but we win."
Faith thought about it for a moment. Winning or winning fairly? In the end, she could be happy with winning. She accepted his explanation with a non-committal shrug.
"So, on to the next phase of Operation Buck Up. It might involve ice cream for a certain young lady I know. Know any hot shot golfers who might like a celebratory ice cream cone?"
The corners of Faith's mouth twitched but she dug in her heels, wondering how long she should hold out, and managed to keep her self from smiling.
"Did I mention the sprinkles?"
The sprinkles were her breaking point. No one had asked her about sprinkles on her ice cream in at least 12 years. It was all at once nice, and terrifying, and annoying, but mostly it just warmed cobwebbed corners of her heart she had forgotten were there. Faith grinned at him. "Well, why didn't you say so?"
Faith attacked her large chocolate lime swirl cone with gusto. The promised sprinkles slowly slid down the cone as it melted and she was trying her best to keep ahead of the drips. Even so, she had sticky trails of ice cream down both arms and was currently leaning out over the grass, trying to keep the dripping cone from coating more of her or the sidewalk. The Mayor watched in horrified fascination.
"Chocolate and lime? How can you eat that thing?"
"I's goo." Faith managed between licks. When she had taken care of the most immediate threats, she looked at his cone. "Plain vanilla? Got something against variety, boss?"
"Call me old fashioned but there is nothing like a good-old, plain vanilla soft-serve cone."
Faith thought of a million responses to that, most of which were not the sort of things one said to one's boss. Especially not if that boss just happened to be on a first name basis with the dark side and know a number of painfully imaginative ways to punish insubordination. She concentrated on finishing her cone without wearing any more of it than she already was. They sat in companionable silence watching happy, stupidly oblivious families drift through the park. It was a perfect sort of day, sunny but not too warm and everywhere people seemed to be out enjoying it. The Mayor finished his cone and pulled a moist towelette out of his pocket. He handed it to Faith, getting another for himself. His fastidiousness struck Faith as funny. What kind of evil carried Wet Wipes?
"Boss, has anyone ever told you that working for you is like being in a fucked up version of the Waltons?"
The Mayor gave her a sharp look. "Watch your language."
She rolled her eyes.
"Don't roll your eyes at me. That sort of language is not very professional language for the workplace. And, since you gave me that look, I will add that it is not very becoming to a young lady like yourself. And how do you know about the Waltons?"
"Some of your better dives have Nick at Nite."
"Well those days are over, my girl. No more dives for you," he said patting her knee. "It's one of the perks of working for my side. Speaking of perks, there is something I have been meaning to talk to you about."
"You already told me about the health plan. You gonna tell me we have dental too?"
"We don't have dental. We're evil. Evil doesn't have dental. Mental health benefits sometimes but no dental. Generally no life insurance either."
He shook his head, frowning. "That wasn't the point. The point was we so rarely have girls – excuse me – women working for us. In fact, I have never had a woman work for me. Most women lack the needed strength and fighting skills to be an asset and those with business talents – Well, I guess I always doubted their commitment to the cause. Never knew if they wanted to start families. I suppose we have been a little sexist in our hiring practices. But I can assure you I have seen the error of my ways. Anyway, being a mostly male organization certain issues had to be addressed. Issues that might not have been addressed had we been more diverse in the past."
Faith just let him talk. This was the first time she had ever seen the Mayor get so flustered. This was going to be good, whatever it was he was trying to talk to her about.
Realizing he had gotten off topic yet again, he returned to a thread he had started earlier. "I guess it is less a benefit and more an employee policy. I am not sure how to bring this up," he took a deep breath and continued. "Faith, about your….guests…"
For the first time in the last five minutes, Faith knew exactly what he was talking about. The first night she had been in the new place, she had decided to christen it, in a manner of speaking. She had hit on of her favorite dives, had a few shots, and had come home with a prime specimen. He had been entertaining enough, and often enough, that she let him stay the night, hoping for another round or two when she woke.
And that had been her mistake. Normally she was glad to see them out the door as soon as her breathing returned to normal. She had woken the next morning to the sound of her guest being thrown out by the Mayor himself. Hoping to make the best of an uncomfortable situation, she had quipped about him saving her the trouble of getting rid of the guy. He had seemed none too pleased to have taken care of her dirty work for her. When she had been unable to produce a name, first or last, for the young man he had just threatened with a painful and prolonged sort of death, his lips had pinched into a thin line. He hadn't said anything at the time and she had hoped it was forgotten. Obviously not. Well, she thought, you had to take your licks sometime.
"Look, if it's against the house rules or something…" she started in what she hoped was a flippant tone. This was not good at all. If he was going to be all paternal about this sort of thing, working for him was going to really suck.
"No, no. I don't have a problem with you," he searched for the right words, "having friends over. You are an independent young woman and I am not going to set rules about what you can do in your free time. However, I do have a problem with you having friends over whose names you don't even know."
She bristled at that and was ready with a sharp retort when he held up a hand to stop her.
"Hear me out. This isn't me arguing about morals. In this day and age, it isn't safe for you to be picking up strangers. You don't know where they have been or what they have been doing. You are a very special young woman, Faith. You need to take care of yourself. You take enough risks just being the Slayer. I need you, Faith. I need you to be ready for whatever task I might ask of you, understand?"
"Yeah, sure thing."
"Picking up strangers generally isn't the most discrete way to find companionship either. Especially not now; you can't afford for someone to go running to the self-appointed Do-Gooder Squad. You need to lay low for a bit. Let Buffy and her little friends cool off."
Faith nodded. This was just great. Now she had a boss and an overprotective dad. Fucking wonderful.
The Mayor pulled a small card out and handed it to her. The card was quite plain; a black background with the word 'Desire' written in silver script. There was a phone number at the bottom – small but still readable.
Faith stared at the card, turning it over and, seeing nothing on the back, looking to the Mayor for explanation.
He looked even more uncomfortable than before. "It is…a service. We have an account with them."
Faith stared at him incredulously. An escort service? The government of Sunnydale had an account with a fucking brothel? Well, that part she could wrap her brain around. It was the part where she was being encouraged to give 'em a ring and get it on, on her boss' dime, where she was lost.
"They run a tight ship – regular check-ups, background checks, and extremely bad memories when questioned about clients. Just something to keep in mind. I want you staying in for a few days, at least until we have an idea what sort of move the other side will be making. Call me and I will have someone bring you down to City Hall if you need to see me. Actually, you should probably check in once a day anyway. No safer place for you to be than right beside me."
She was still staring at the card trying to catch up with what had just happened. "You know what I said earlier about the Waltons?"
"Yes."
Pocketing the card, she abruptly rose to her feet, signaling an end to the discussion. "Forget it."
By 11'o clock that night, Faith's nerves were about ready to snap. She hated not being out getting some slaying in. She had gone a few rounds with the punching bag, done three miles on the treadmill, even played around on the Playstation. None of it had taken the edge off. After flipping through the channels for the fourth time she gave up and headed to bed. Whoever said that nothing was ever on, no matter how many channels you had, was right but this was the first time she had ever had more than 15 channels. It was disappointing really.
It was the earliest she had gone to bed in ages and she could tell. She lay there in the dark, willing herself to fall asleep. It just wasn't happening. The clock showed 1 am the last time she opened an eye to glare at it. It must have been a little after that when she finally fell into a restless sleep.
She was walking down one of Sunnydale's more scenic dark, dangerous alleys. She sensed them before she really heard them; five vampires coming towards her down a cross street. They were prowling, hungry. Taking advantage of some conveniently placed trash, she got herself out of sight and managed to take the first by surprise. The second was quickly dusted before they even realized what was happening. That left only three. She could take two – no problem. She threw herself into the fight, letting the dance of kill-or-be-killed take her over.
Things would have been fine had their friends not shown up. Six of them burst around a corner. The sounds of fighting echoed through the deserted alleyways, warning them what they would find. They only hesitated a moment before joining the fray, grabbing planks and pipes from the rubbish around them. Faith met the first with a swift kick in the gut, while finishing off one of the original combatants. As they always do in badly choreographed movies, they came at her two at a time. Two she could handle. A few more vamps went poof. The remaining six realized the stupidity of that plan all too quickly and rushed her as a pack.
At some point in the frantic fighting that followed she realized there were too many of them. Even as she managed to sink a stake into the heart of one, another caught her across the back of the head with a board. Luckily it was not one of the ones with nails still embedded in it. She fell to her knees only to be hauled back up by a strong hand around her neck. He lifted her, cutting off her breathing, and held her there for a moment, enjoying the way her feet were kicking a few inches from the ground as she desperately tried to escape his crushing grip.
Why do they always stop to gloat right before they try to kill you, she thought, even as she realized that this vamp wasn't going to try to kill her. He was going to succeed.
Suddenly he disappeared in a cloud of dust and Faith wished for a moment he had actually finished her. Buffy's look was pure contempt with a dash of disdain thrown in for spice, as if Faith's little near death experience were something nasty she had just stepped in. Before Faith could do anything, the vamps had regrouped and were on them again. Two Slayers evened up the odds considerably. It was still a fight, but at least now it was a fight Faith could win.
As the last vamp went dusty, Faith's heart sank and she mentally steeled herself for the fight to come. Buffy obviously needed a breather. She crossed her arms across her chest in that obnoxious, mother-scolding-a-child pose she did so well.
Faith assumed she was in for one hell of a lecture but Buffy just stared at her. With a sigh, Buffy cut to the chase. "We gonna do this the easy way or the hard way?"
"If the easy way is me trotting along behind you, tail between my legs, you know that's not gonna happen."
Buffy cocked her head, as if this was to be expected. "The hard way it is."
The Slayers circled each other. Faith had already determined that she was not going to give Buffy the advantage by going after her. She would make the little princess work for this one, tire her by making her attack and then use her fatigue against her.
Buffy seemed to abruptly grow sick of the waiting. She made her move, swinging a fist at Faith's head while delivering a swift kick to the shin. The fist was easy to duck but that seemed to be the point, since ducking put her in a optimal position to nearly fall over from the kick.
It hurt like a bitch but Faith was less pained than relieved, relieved that they were finally getting down to it. She responded with equal violence and soon the two were trying to tear each other apart.
Always one for the quips, Buffy started throwing out little barbs with her attacks.
"You know, I am kinda glad you picked the hard way," Buffy spat, ducking Faith's fist. "I've been dying to take a few swings at you since you first darkened our doorstep."
Faith ignored her but she continued.
"You stupid bitch. You really thought Angel was going to toss it all away for you. Geez, Faith. I always knew you weren't as dumb as you looked." Buffy faked a left kick and, when Faith took the bait, countered with a punch straight to the temple that took Faith to her knees. Looking down at her, Buffy snorted. "You're even dumber."
Faith didn't even bother to answer. She cut Buffy's feet out from under her with a well placed sweep and got back to her feet, as quickly as she could with a rainbow of spots swimming through her vision. Shaking it off, she planted her feet and got ready for Buffy's next attack.
They might have continued that way for hours had they both not began to tire. Fighting vampires was one thing. Fighting a fellow Slayer proved to be quite a bit harder. Faith was still trying to make Buffy do most of the work but she had underestimated the toll of taking a few blows here and there. Buffy was losing some of her perk; the running commentary slowing and even stopping altogether as she had to fight to catch her breath in mid-taunt.
Faith leaned against a dumpster, hands on her knees, forcing herself to take deep, slow breaths. Blood was flowing freely from a cut above one eye and a dozen different places were beginning to throb, promising an interesting patchwork of bruises tomorrow. If she lived until tomorrow.
The deep breaths were working. She could feel a little energy flowing back into her limbs. Better yet, she felt a rush of endorphin kick in, dulling the pain and making her blood sing through her.
Buffy must have felt it too. She made a little gasp of surprise and clutched at her head, as if the rush was making her dizzy.
"Wow. That's – wow." None too steady on her feet, Buffy half-leaned, half-fell against the wall behind her.
"I don't think I have ever fought for this long. Normally it's over pretty quick. Or you realize you are outmanned and run for it. That was - That was quite a rush."
She looked up and caught Faith's eye. "Was this what you meant, about fighting getting you all jazzed?"
Faith nodded and Buffy seemed to be lost in the feeling again.
"You should know, before I have to kill you and all, that no one fights like you, Faith."
Well, this was a new tactic. Though Faith was fairly sure you couldn't actually kill someone with kindness.
"The training, the sparring – even with Angel – was all about holding back, about swallowing my strength. This – this is like uncorking it and seeing how far it will take me."
Buffy pushed off the wall. "This is pointless, Faith. I can't take you tonight and you are too tired to take me. Let's end this before we both end up vampire snacks."
There was something odd about the way Buffy said that but Faith was too exhausted to question too closely. "Fine. You can try to kill me another night. Sounds fun."
Faith turned and started to walk away. She had only made it a few steps when Buffy called after her.
"Faith?"
Something in her tone made Faith pause.
"You ever wonder? What it could have been like? If we hadn't hated each other from the first?"
"Sometimes. But it's too late now"
The reply was soft, so soft she wouldn't have heard it had it not come from directly behind her.
"Is it?" Buffy asked.
Faith spun around to see the other Slayer somehow standing not a foot from her. Before she could ask how she had done it, Buffy stepped even closer, close enough to hit Faith.
Or trail a soft hand up her arm.
Faith looked at her in shock. Obviously one of them had taken one too many blows to the head.
"It's not just the fighting that's about holding back." Buffy reached up to place a hand on Faith's cheek. "It's everything. They don't get it, not really."
Faith was scarcely breathing, her heart thudding so hard it almost hurt – from the way this moment was hanging, the way she was waiting - for something.
Buffy leaned closer and closer until her lips were almost on Faith's. She looked up then, searching for something, some sign from Faith. She must have found something because she closed her eyes and pressed her mouth to Faith's.
It started hesitant, almost chaste; the kind of kiss one would give a close friend or in response to a dare – no real spark. As the surprise wore off, she became aware of the softness of Buffy's lips, the way she could feel Buffy's pulse jumping under her palm as she slid her hand up to cup Buffy's head. Like an endorphin rush, the fire overtook them both. Hands sliding over each other, drinking each other in, and the world narrowing to nothing more than the two of them. Buffy hooked her fingers through Faith's belt loops, roughly pulling her forward. Faith let out a gasp as she knocked into Buffy and they both stumbled sideways, Faith's shoulder slamming into the bricks hard enough to make her wince.
Buffy fixed her with a look so purely predatory, Faith found herself reacting automatically, reaching to pull Buffy closer.
Buffy smiled, "Ever wonder what it's like to fuck a Slayer?"
Faith jolted awake, Buffy's question still echoing in her head. She sat there for a moment, trying to ignore her heart pounding and the way she was trembling. I hate those damn dreams, she thought, throwing the sheets aside. At least the fight to the death was new. Normally they were out slaying or sparring. The death angle was a real disturbing twist.
She carefully padded across the room without bothering to turn on the light. Fishing around in her jeans pocket, she found the card the Mayor had given her. She picked up the cordless phone and stared at the silver text, set aglow by the eerie green light from the phone display. The Waltons we ain't, she thought remembering the conversation earlier and the Mayor's instructions.
She took a deep breath and dialed. "Yeah, this is Faith Wilkins. I – uh – I need a delivery."
They were prompt. She answered the soft knock not a half hour later. Young guy, nice muscle tone, nice eyes and, hmmm, killer smile she noticed, looking him up and down. He was doing the same to her, turning the smile on full force when he met her eye, obviously liking what he saw. She liked the look of the bottle of Jose Cuervo he had brought with him.
"Faith?" She nodded and stepped out of the way waving for him to enter.
He looked at her a moment before stepping across the threshold. He stopped just inside and gave her a questioning look.
"Can't be too careful," she mumbled.
He nodded. "Indeed. So, you having some trouble sleeping tonight?"
She smiled, a shark's toothy grin. "We both know you being here has nothing to do with sleeping."
He reached out and pushed the door closed. "Good."
Finis
Author's Note 3: A big thanks to Mynuet and Booster for chatting with me while I sweated through this one. And for the amusing, if ultimately unusable, chatter about the Mayor's ice cream based metaphors for the unity of evil forces and his mission to bring all of Sunnydale together, albeit in death. Foxfire and Booster graciously provided beta services – I would have gone insane, well more insane, without you both – Thanks! And a final thanks to Misha who read a draft I left lying about on his computer while working on it and providing much needed encouragement and a needed check of my rampaging-vampire math. Those guys are slippery – accurate counts are tough!
Perries, I hope you liked it. And before anyone asks, sequels are not forthcoming. I need a rest from the taskmistress that is my Muse under the pressure of deadlines and demands.