Woooohhhhoooooooo!!!!!!!! Woo! 3 Cheers for Frostybyte's new story! Wooot!

It's called Define "Normal". It's kinda based off the book by Julie Anne Peters. This is a fic that is pretty much Buffy- and Faith-centric. It is not a slash-fic. I just like the idea, and I want to see where it goes.

Is definitely AU, so does not fit in the timeline anywhere.

This is not a romantic fic. I might throw some in, however, so feel free to suggest pairings. I have, however decided on Faith/Spike.

"speaking"

thinking

Buffy's P.O.V.

I opened the door and froze. Not Faith Lehane. Impossible. Was not gonna happen. My jaw stuck as I did my best cow impression.

"What are you looking at?" Faith sneered at me.

Umm, I don't know, maybe your tattoo? "Nothing," I muttered.

Faith snorted. "You're my peer counselor?" She put her clunky boots on the table, and tipped back her chair.

My stomach was doing flip-flops. "Guess so." Define 'peer.'

Faith snorted again. Must have had the same thought. Well, no delaying the inevitable. I sat down with a sigh at the opposite side of the table. Even from there I could smell her perfume. It was nauseating. I was trying very hard not to sneeze. "Where's Giles?" I asked.

"I dunno." Faith shrugged, international sign language for 'and I don't care' "He had some emergency or another. Probably had to run down to the library to 'research' something and polish his glasses."

I stifled a laugh. The school psychologist/librarian did tend to polish his glasses when he got nervous. Which was a lot.

"So do you want to start or should I?" asked Faith, with an impish grin.

I think we should both walk out of here and pretend this meeting never took place. "I'll start." Stupid college credits. Okay, start. Where to start? Geez, when Giles recommended this peer counseling thing, I didn't think someone like Faith Lehane would sign up. I thought it was meant for people with minor problems, like difficult teachers, or breaking up with your boyfriend or something. Not someone with Faith Lehane's problems. She's, what? A gangbanger. A druggie. Peer counseling? She needs long-time psychotherapy. "In a lock-up facility," I mumbled.

"Huh?" she said.

"Nothing. Why don't you go ahead." This should be good. "Tell me why you're here." Giles suggested this as an icebreaker. Between me and Faith, however, there was an iceberg.

Faith smirked. "It keeps me off the streets."

I forced a smile back. Good reason.

She got up, denting the heater behind her by accidentally throwing her chair into it. She walked down to my side of the table and sat kitty-corner to me. "We can't talk from way down there," was her explanation.

"I'm here 'cause Giles says I gotta be. I gotta do fifteen hours of counseling this term. She glanced at her watch, then grinned at me. "Ten minutes and counting."

For some reason I could not stop staring at her tattoo. Why would you get that? Don't you have to have parental permission, or something? What if she did it—

"You like it?" her amused voice filtered into my thoughts. "Cause if you do, Tattoo 4 U 2 is having a special. Get a tattoo, get a free body piercing."

"A world of no," I responded. Inside I was shaking. What am I doing? I can't do this? I can't counsel Faith Lehane!

"So, are we gonna start?" she wondered aloud. She checked her watch. "Sixteen minutes. This ain't so bad. Why don't we start with our names?" She extended her hand. "I'm Faith Lehane. But everyone just calls me Faith."

I extended my hand also. "I'm Buffy Summers."

We shook hands. "Nice to meet ya, B." She sat back in her chair. "So…" she said, spinning in her chair and staring at the ceiling. "Let's talk about you."

"Well, I'm Buffy. Everyone calls me Buffy." My eyes met hers.

She shrugged.

I continued. "I'm 17 and I'm a junior. My favorite subject is psychology. I'm in the honor roll, and I was on the cheer squad, but I had to quit—"

Faith yawned audibly. She checked her watch. "Time sure flies when you're having fun." She batted her mascara-covered lashes at me. "And that's just about all the fun I can handle for one day."

I started putting my stuff away. "Thanks a lot, B! I feel better already. With you counseling me, I'll be five-by-five in no time!" With that little sarcastic gem, she left the room.

Wonderful. I feel sick.

Well, that's all for now. Stay tuned!

Frostybyte