A/N: Been thinking about this one for a while! I've got a few long oneshots in the works for BF5, but chapter one of this story was what I finished first. Oh, and in refernce to the royal mentioned here, Lady Geneveive Savidge was featured in the Buffy comics. Look her up.
DISCLAIMER: ME NO OWN. YOU NO SUE. REVIEW OR ME SMASH STUPID LAZY READERS. RARR.
The dusty landscape was unforgiving. The town was small, pathetic, even, and the economy was in a down turn. The sun beat down at a blistering one hundred and nine degrees Fahrenheit that humble August day, far hotter than she preferred. But then, things almost never seemed to go the way she preferred them to. That was life for her; swallow your pride, do what you have to and move on. And if they followed you, then keep moving.
Well, hello, rock bottom, she thought to herself. Haven't seen your ugly mug in a while.
Handler's Corners was certainly less of a dump than some of the places she'd passed through over the years, but it was not exactly glamorous. She was born and bred in the darkest slums of South Boston, where the air stank of smoke and liquor and there was always a fight to be had; shunted from group home to foster care to the streets, the violence and pain was all she knew. She finished out high school in Sunnydale, an outwardly lovely small town with a private college, a zoo, a museum…and a death rate so high even the high school newspapers had to publish weekly obituary columns. Then LA, with all its smog and murder, to say nothing of its women's prison, where she languished for a year. From there she went to—ugh—Cleveland. As if being on Lake Erie in the winter was not quite bad enough, she had the new Hellmouth to contend with, and all of its accompanying problems: demons, vampires, cults, and the occasional werewolf or warlock. There were a few gigs in Europe after that, but had they turned out well, she would not be in such a predicament. And so, here she was, in a tiny nowhere town, to impose on her kindhearted cousin for a place to stay until she got back on her feet.
She hardly remembered the last time she saw Grace; the pair of them were just kids at the time. All she could remember was Grace's heartbroken face as their mothers swore never to speak to each other again. At least they stayed in one place; it made it easier for her to track Grace down. And since they hardly had contact, no one would think to look for her there.
The phone call had been a surprise, to be sure. Grace never expected to hear that voice again. But how could she say no? "Faith, you're the only family I've got left. I don't care what you've done, I'll help you anyway. But we have to be careful."
"Like a fake name, right, Gracie?" Faith had said it as a joke, but it was not a terrible idea. "It'll be fine. I just need somewhere to cool my heels for a bit 'til I can take care of myself."
"I know." The line hissed with words unsaid. "Faith…"
She sighed. "Look, Grace, I'm…I'm sorry I never looked you up before now. It must be real tough, not hearin' from me all this time and now I'm begging for scraps at your back door. I understand if you just want me to get lost."
"Faith, it was my mom's decision not to contact you guys. Not mine." She sounded very convincing when she said "I don't abandon my family."
"Thank you, Gracie," Faith told her. "You're better family than I deserve."
Handler's Corners was in the middle of nowhere, barely eight hundred miles from Sunnydale—close enough she'd be stupid to stay for long, which was why no one would be looking for her there. And somehow Grace had worked some miracle and gotten her boss to agree to take Faith on. Not that she was generally interested in honest work, but cash was cash. And by saying Faith was afraid of getting 'abducted by aliens' she'd even convinced the wierdo to pay her off the record. At the moment, things were looking up for the rogue slayer. Now, if only she could manage to keep it that way…
After a particularly grueling battle zone, the Battle Force 5 had once again congregated at Zeke's Diner. It was always so nice to have a place to remind them of what it was like to be normal, even if the proprietor was constantly mumbling about aliens. Duty and honor were important, sure, but there was a certain something to be said for a little relaxation now and again. Stanford took great comfort, more than the others knew, in coming to an out-of-the-way greasy spoon like Zeke's and palling around with the rest of the team as they shared pizza or whatever else they were in the mood for. A hearty meal of heart attack inducing comfort food kept him grounded and calmed his nerves, and of course, there was always the fun of ogling his favorite waitress, Grace.
The piece of royal riffraff caught sight of her out the corner of his eyes almost as soon as he had started searching. He did not recognize the tight black slacks, they must have been new, and she wore her hair down, which was unusual—and then she turned around and he realized it was not Grace at all. Sure, there was a basic resemblance, though this young woman was chestier, and perhaps a few years older. Her dark brown hair fell in soft waves past her shoulders, framing her oval face in a lovely manner. The lips above her dimpled chin were dark red, and her big, sad eyes looked as if they were sick and tired of the idiots they constantly observed. Somehow, to Stanford at least, this woman seemed bored, bemused and annoyed all at once. In a word, the girl was 'bangable.'
"Oi, check out the new girl," he purred, nudging Vert in the side. The blonde caught on almost immediately and they stepped forward together. The pair had made a game of wooing Grace, and though it ended poorly, they had thoroughly enjoyed it. If Zoom did not interfere this time, either of them might just stand a chance.
Agura clucked in disappointment as she and the rest took up their usual table. AJ raised an eyebrow as Grace took their orders, placidly observing as Vert and Stanford closed in on the new waitress.
"I've never seen her before," AJ said coolly. Upset as she was, Agura ignored how out of character it was for him to be anything less than totally stoked.
"Idiots," she said. "Why do they always gotta go after the same girl? Those two just don't know when to quit playing. They've never even met her!"
Grace chuckled nervously. "Yeah, that's my cousin, uh, Hope. Things have been kind of rough on her lately so she's staying with me for a while." Her forced smile was on the verge of cracking and she apologized. "I better get over there and make sure she doesn't kill them."
"She's a tough girl?"
"She's from Southie."
Oh, yes because THAT explained EVERYTHING. Thankfully, Spinner, being a veritable font useless information, told her that the South side of Boston, Massachusetts, was a neighborhood known historically for mob violence and the tough-as-nails Irish immigrants and their descendants. A girl from the wrong side of the tracks in a big bad city like that would eat a nice small town boy like Vert alive, especially since Grace had already pointed out the girl was in a bad mood.
"Oh, this'll be fun to watch."
Faith was cleaning the tables when she heard two sets of footsteps approach her. Sooner or later she would have to deal with locals, she had figured. Now was as good a time as any. She would just have to remember to use her alias.
"Sooo, new in town?" the blonde asked with a grin. "Hi, name's Vert Wheeler. I'd be happy to show you around after your shift ends, if you like."
"Not much to show in a small town like this," she replied, moving to the next booth. She did not even look up at him.
"Ah, yes, but the local communities are so tightly knit. It can be hard making new friends, but there's plenty of fun to be had if one has the right connections." The redhead's English accent immediately began to work her nerves. "Stanford Isaac Rhodes the fourth, one hundred and eighty ninth in line for the throne. Charmed."
"Royalty, huh?" she said cynically. "Shame what happened to that Lady Genevieve; the killer musta been a real bruiser to leave her pinned like that. Did Scotland Yard find any leads yet?"
All color drained from Stanford's face in shock. "N-no, not that I'm aware of. Ah, please excuse me."
Vert glanced in the Brit's direction as he scampered off the men's room, but quickly turned his attention back to the new waitress. "So, you haven't told me your name. I wonder, is it just as pretty as you are?"
"Hope O'Shaughnessy, don't wear it out." She frowned, annoyed. "You've got some balls using pick-up lines like that in public. And anyway, how old are you with that little baby face? Does your mother know that you're out?"
Vert twitched, insulted, and responded reflexively with brutal honesty. "No, she's dead."
For the first time, 'Hope' looked him over closely. Slim but strongly built, golden haired, with gorgeous blue eyes and an adorable dimple in his chin. "Sorry to hear that, baby-cakes. How'd your pa take it?"
"He disappeared way before that."
She smiled at him. "Both your folks out of the picture and still going strong; you're tough. I might almost like you, kid." She picked up her washing pail, preparing to saunter back to the kitchen. "If you were maybe ten years older."
Vert opened his mouth to say something and was promptly interrupted.
"There you are, Hope!" Grace exclaimed in an overly cheery tone. "Vert, you really shouldn't be keeping her from work on her first day! Go on, little lady. Scoot!"
"Yeah, yeah, get in the kitchen and make you a sandwich, I got it…" She rolled her eyes and snickered as she passed through the door.
"Well, she certainly dabbles in being a bitch," Vert muttered.
Grace glared. "She may be bitchy but she's all the family I've got."
"What? Oh, jeez, Grace, I didn't mean—"
"Can it, Wheeler. F—" She paused, breathing deeply. "Just—Just be nice to Hope! She's been moving around a lot since her mom got killed and she's had it rough. And I better not catch you and Stanford playing 'pass the waitress' like you tried with me!" she added roughly. Grace forced a smile. "Can I get you anything to drink? Are you ready to place your order yet or would you like to hear the specials?"
"Just the usual is fine, thanks." He hung his head, embarrassed, and trotted back to the table. Apparently at some point Stanford had made it back as well and sat there, mirthless with red-rimmed eyes. "Have you been crying?"
The Brit only sniffled, warming his hands around the cup of tea Grace had brought him.
AJ finally regained his trademark friendly smile now that their leader had arrived. "Didn't work out, eh?"
"Yeah, she says she prefers older guys. No big."
"No worries! There are plenty of fish in the sea, dude, and I'll be right here for you until you find the one." The big Canadian patted his dearest friend on the back. "Now, what'd she say to shoot Stanford down so bad? He looked like he'd seen a ghost!"
Stanford sobbed into his hands. "Genevieve!" he cried, running out the door. Vert stared after him, concerned.
"She mentioned some royal who was murdered. I guess Stanford was close to her." He sighed. "I better go after him."
"No, I got it," Agura said gently. She followed Stanford out to his car to check on him.
Vert turned his focus to the pizza, trying to remove the girl from his mind. Who was she calling baby-faced? He was no pretty boy, not like Stanford. The very idea offended him! When Spinner mentioned she was from a tough neighborhood he reasoned that maybe she wasn't used to people being nice without wanting something. Hope was probably just looking out for number one.
Vert of course knew that he would not be the last to vie for her attention. New arrivals in a small town like Handler's Corners were a rarity, even with the 'employees recruited to Spectra Motors' they'd been getting. Each one was met with an air of excitement and curiosity, and one so pretty as Hope would be endlessly fawned over. Not all of the attention would be positive, but it seldom ever was.
"Did somebody lose a hand?" a sarcastic voice called out. "Cuz I just found this one on my ass."
The customer Hope singled out muttered for her to take it easy, that he just wanted some 'friendly company' for the night. Livid, she punched him, and he sailed twelve feet through the air before falling to the floor. The diner was all but silent as all eyes fell on the altercation.
"Y-you bitch!" the trucker cried. He saw Sheriff Johnson nearby and bared his teeth. "Sheriff, I wanna press charges!"
From where he sat at the counter, sipping his coffee, the sheriff raised an eyebrow in consideration. "Okay, but I'll be filing sexual assault charges against you on the lady's behalf."
"WHAT? But she hit me!"
"After you approached her with unwarranted sexual advances and publicly fondled her. And what you said about 'friendly company' could be construed as attempted solicitation. Assualt charges against her would get thrown out on self defense. You, on the other hand…Well, did I mention both the judge and prosecutor are women?"
Muttering to himself the whole time, the middle-aged creep slapped a twenty on the counter and left. Several customers clapped and cheered, cat calling at the guy as he exited the diner in shame. Sheriff Johnson turned to Faith.
"I could still go after him if you did wanna press charges," he told her.
She shook her head. "I just got here, I'm still unpacking. I really don't feel like going to court right now." Because then you'd know I have warrants out in California, she did not add. "Thanks, sheriff. Hey, I gotta get back to work. Can I get you a refill on that coffee, maybe a brownie or something?"
"Holy wowsers did you see her throw that guy?" Spinner asked excitedly, flailing about in such a manner that Sherman had to grab him to keep him from falling into the next booth. "That was totally badass!"
"Dodged that bullet, eh, Vert?" AJ asked. "If you'd talked to her any longer she mighta done that to you."
"I think that's the closest Zeke's has ever gotten to a bar brawl," Grace said, returning with onion rings, curly fries, and refills on everyone's drinks.
At the very least, things had gotten a lot more interesting in Handler's Corners.
A/N: I do hope to eventually make this into a multichaptered story, so I'll leave it open for now. I've got some ideas for how it'll go, to. Let me know what you think!