AUTHOR'S NOTE: This is a Buffy the Vampire Slayer fanfic. However, there are a few differences and/or clarifications from canon that I thought I should lay out before folks start reading the fic, or some things won't make sense. (For those of you familiar with the Buffyverse.)

1. In canon, Faith helped Buffy and the Scoobies defeat the First. In this fic, she was left in prison to serve her 15-years-to-life by Buffy and Giles, who decided that she would be more of a liability than an asset. Therefore, Buffy never forgave Faith in this fic, nor did Faith help out in that final battle. Faith's anathema. (To Buffy, anyway.)

2. I've made some adjustments to the vampires of the Buffyverse.

a. In this story, vampires don't automatically know kung fu the instant they rise from the dead (because really, why the fuck would they?) They do still have supernatural strength, speed and agility, however.

b. Also, I've added the concept of a vampire Mate, which is (in a nutshell) a human chosen by a vampire as a sex partner and blood donor. The human essentially becomes a thrall in that situation, unable to go against the will of the vampire who Marked them. (Translation - bit 'em in the neck.) I don't know if that concept will come into this particular story. We'll see.

c. Also, vampires in this fic require fresh human blood to stay healthy. This is arbitrary by me.

d. Lastly, since the physical state of vampires in the Buffyverse is unclear, I've arbitrarily decided that they don't need to breathe, but their hearts beat. So there. XD

3. I've also added the idea (a la Blade) that there are humans who align themselves with vampire/demon clans, and become tattooed slaves. Again, not sure how much that'll come into this particular story. We shall see. (Mwahaha.)

4. In this fic, Faith has a secret unrequited crush on Buffy. Although that isn't so hugely out of canon, really. Serious subtext in that whole Buffy/Faith dynamic, if you ask me. Like that bit where Buffy jokes about dating her, and the scene where Faith pulls Buffy out of class, and that scene where they're dancing together at the Bronze. For example.

Ahem. ANYway, I think that's it. On with our story. (Yes! On with our story!) (A cookie to whoever got that incredibly lame reference. XD )

It was another typical Los Angeles June day – hot and dry. The sky had been gray and gloomy that morning, but there was no sign of clouds now. The streets were relatively empty – for Los Angeles, that is – with the lunch rush having ended an hour or so ago, and rush hour proper not due to begin for another forty-five minutes. Most of the people walking the streets seemed to be in a hurry to get from one place to another.

There was an exception, though. On the east side of the street, a young woman was leaning on a parked Harley Davidson motorcycle and smoking a cigarette. She was dressed in leather pants and a tank top, with a very old and worn-looking black leather vest overtop. She was fairly tall and muscular, with sloe-dark eyes and thick brown hair that was currently cropped short at her neck, but shaggy enough at the top to hang over the bridge of her finely shaped nose. Her arms were tattooed from her shoulders to her elbows, and there was an inked snake wrapped around her lower left leg. She reached into her vest pocket with one hand and skilfully extracted another cigarette from the pack that lay inside. Lighting it from the smouldering end of the one between her full, pouting lips, she flicked the old one away and tucked the new one in its place with a negligent ease that spoke of long practice. Her gaze never left the bookstore across the street.

After a while she seemed to grow impatient. She scowled to herself and fumbled in another pocket, withdrawing a much-folded and dog-eared piece of paper. "I'm sure this is the damn place," she muttered to herself in a rich, husky voice. She studied the address on the page and looked up at the bookstore again. "Yep. Niveus Lacuna Bookstore...it's the right joint." With a sigh, she tucked the paper away carefully again and resumed her vigil, smoking with studied intensity. "Patience, Faith," she mumbled. "Patience. It's been sixteen damn years. Another ten minutes won't kill you."

Movement. The woman's gaze sharpened as she watched the store. A minute or two later, the door opened, and a slender, red-haired woman came out. Faith flicked away her cigarette, glanced both ways, and calmly jaywalked across it. She reached the opposite walk just as the redhead finished locking the bookstore's front door. She seemed to sense Faith's presence, because she turned toward her abruptly. There was silence for a moment. "Can I…help you?" the redhead said uncertainly.

Faith gave a wry grin that revealed rather fetching dimples. "Probably not, Red. But hell, can't blame a girl for trying, right?"

The woman's green eyes widened in shock and sudden recognition. She took a quick step backward and raised one hand in a defensive gesture. There was silence for a moment. "…Faith?"

"Yo, Willow. Relax. I ain't here to hurt anybody." The dark woman eyed the redhead with a look that was supposed to be coolly nonchalant, but which held more than a hint of uncertainty and wistfulness. "Listen, I know you're probably wicked busy, but I thought maybe we could talk. Grab a beer or whatever."

"God, I…well, yeah. Yeah, okay." Willow looked stunned. She slowly lowered her arm. "I mean, I was planning on grabbing a pizza somewhere and taking it home and watching about six hours of movies, but that wasn't a serious appointment or anything. Plans can change, right? Especially when Faith Lehane drops out of the clear sky and lands in Los Angeles and wants beer. Do you really want beer? We can do something else if you want. I mean, my God, we haven't…I mean, we thought you were…"

"Still in jail. Yeah." Faith shrugged and flicked away the butt of her cigarette with a long fingernail. "I figured." The silence that followed was awkward. Faith shifted her shoulders uncomfortably to settle her leather vest over her shoulders. "So we going, or what? It's not like I know this place well enough yet to suggest a spot, y'know."

The question seemed to shake Willow out of her trance. "Um, yes. Of course. There's a pub just over here. C'mon."

The two of them didn't really speak until they were seated at a table at the pub. Their drinks arrived shortly afterward, along with a basket of wings and another of short ribs. Faith immediately sank her teeth into a rib and washed her mouthful down with a long swig of dark lager. Willow took a daintier sip of her own beer. "So, um…what brings you out to LA, Faith?"

The brunette didn't answer right away. She ate another bite of spiced meat. "Dunno, really. Finished serving my time, got out. Figured I'd look some folks up before I rode off into the sunset or whatever." Another bite. "Found out you and B and the brat wound up in the area. Thought maybe I'd drop by and say yo."

"Yeah?" Willow rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly. "Were you hoping to get back into slaying? Because I don't know if…"

"Not officially. Not yet." Faith's dark eyes flickered. "Don't think I don't know, a'right? I ain't earned it. I know that." She discarded a fleshless rib bone and reached for an untouched one. "I wanted to look up B and Dawn later, but I thought I'd start with you. Figured you'd be the least likely to try and stake me on sight."

The redhead gave a nervous laugh at this. "Buffy wouldn't stake you. All that stuff went down a long time ago…I mean, it happened, but she wouldn't hold that against you that much now. Especially since you did your, uh…time."

"Yeah." Faith didn't sound convinced. She methodically stripped the second rib of its flesh and laid it aside in favor of a chicken wing. "So, you still doing the witchy-poo thing?"

"I'm a Watcher now, with the new Council," Willow said with dignity. "And yes, I'm still a witch."

"Still with that Kennedy chick? She sounds like she's pretty cool." The dark-eyed girl took another swig of her lager.

"No." The redhead gazed at her quietly. "Kennedy died two years ago when the new Hellmouth opened up here in LA."

Faith stopped eating and looked at her. "God, I'm sorry, Red," she said. "I knew Giles got killed in all that, but I never heard about her. Jesus." There was a pause. "Are you, uh…okay about that?"

"Thanks. It's better than it was," Willow said. Then she gave Faith an odd look. "Where'd you hear about that? And come to think of it, how'd you find us all, anyway? We're unlisted. All Watchers and Slayers are now. And you didn't go through any of the official channels, I'd have heard something."

The dark woman scratched her ear. "Yeah. I didn't jump through the usual hoops. I'm still not so big on following rules," she said. Her eyes stayed on the tabletop, unable or unwilling to meet Willow's. "And, uh, Red…you don't have to worry about the demon guy who killed Giles and Ken," she said quietly. "I took care of that little problem for you in New York last month."

Willow put down her tankard and stared at Faith with her mouth open. "You did?" she squeaked. "You killed Mastema? How? We've been tracking him for months. Even my magic couldn't find him!"

Faith shrugged. "Sometimes makes things easier if you don't gotta use the approved methods. What can I say?" She finished her dark beer in one long gulp. "I wasn't what you'd call a huge Giles fan, but I knew him and B were tight. Figured she'd get more sleep at night if I rubbed out the bastard who iced him." She toyed with her empty mug. "Guess it's bonus that I helped you out, too."

"Faith." Willow's voice shook. "Thank you."

"Yeah. You're welcome. Whatever." The brunette shrugged, obviously uncomfortable. She glanced at her companion through her fringe of spiky dark hair. "Figured I'd try to do a few good things in my life. Balance some shit out. Might get me an upgrade in Hell or something. Maybe a few less red-hot pitchforks up my ass."

There was silence for a while. Faith finished most of the ribs and wings during it. "Do you have a place to stay?" Willow asked softly. "I mean, while you're here?"

"Nah. Not really. Crashed in a hostel or two." Faith shrugged a shoulder. "I been in worse rat traps."

"Then you're coming home with me," Willow said decisively. "I've got an extra bedroom." Then, seeing the doubt in the other woman's dark eyes, "Please, Faith? I mean, come on, you got the demon that's been tying my stomach in knots ever since Kennedy died. You've gotta let me do something for you. And besides, I'm the head Watcher in this city. I'm responsible for the Slayers, whether they're active or not."

The dusky woman folded her hands on the table and stared down at them. "You're okay with an ex-con in your house?" she said quietly.

"I'm okay with Faith Lehane in my house." Willow's voice was gentle.

Faith cleared her throat. "All right, then," she said gruffly. "Listen, I gotta go get my bag. I don't have much luggage, but I like to hang on to what I've got."

"Do you need a ride?" Willow asked. "My car's parked in the lot just around the corner."

"Nah. It's okay, it's close by. I'll meet you by your wheels." Faith got up and tossed a ten dollar bill on the table. "Thanks, Red." Before the redhead could respond, the brunette turned and headed for the door.

Faith threaded her way through the commuters on the sidewalk and made her way back to her motorcycle. She opened a compartment and lifted out a dusty green duffel bag, then slung it on her shoulder. Her dark eyes regarded the vehicle with regret. "I'd sure like to keep the wheels," she muttered to herself, "but I bet their owner's noticed they're gone by now. Better not to get mixed up with that shit." She tugged some keys out of the pocket of her cutoffs and tossed them on the Harley's leather seat. With that, she turned away and headed for the parking lot Willow had mentioned.

The redhead was waiting by a little blue Toyota. She gave Faith a nervous smile as the dark woman approached. Faith jerked her head in a nod, and they both got in the car. It smelled of suntan lotion and pine scented air freshener. Faith cranked down a window and started the air conditioner against the heat as Willow pulled the car out of the parking lot and into the steady stream of Los Angeles traffic.

Neither of them really said much as Willow drove out of downtown LA and into the suburbs. They were heading toward the ocean, Faith noted. She could just make out the water in the distance by the time the witch pulled into a driveway and turned off the motor. Faith got out and looked at the place while Faith locked the vehicle. It was a nice little house with white stucco and dark trim. It looked like a two- or three-bedroom. Faith guessed Willow had probably gotten it with Kennedy. "Nice crib."

"Thanks." The redhead darted her a quiet smile as she stuck her key in the front door. "It's not the Taj Mahal, but it's home." The entryway led into a hall, with a kitchen to the left, a bathroom to the right, and a living room directly ahead. An alcove with a flight of stairs rested between the bathroom and the living room. Willow pointed at the steps. "The first bedroom on the right upstairs is mine. You can crash in the other one," she said. "It's got an en-suite bathroom that can be yours while you're here."

The brunette shifted her weight. "Uh, thanks." She darted a glance at the stairs. "I guess I'll go toss my stuff in there, then."

"Sure." Willow hung her keys on a peg in the wall and nodded. "I'm going to order some pizza for supper. You can grab some of that, or do what you want." She paused. "You can use the phone if you like, too. You know, in case you want to…call anyone."

Faith looked down at the floor. "Yeah. Thanks. Maybe I will in a bit." There was a pause. "Later, Red." She settled her duffel bag over her shoulder and headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

The bedroom was nice. It was much more feminine than anything Faith would have chosen on her own, but it was clean, and the linens on the double bed smelled fresh. There was a closet that was bare except for an empty shoebox and a handful of wire hangers. Faith opened her duffel bag, took out a t-shirt, a black leather jacket, and a black hoodie, and hung them on the hangers. A pair of folded denim cutoffs went on the shelf, and the now-empty duffel back was tossed in beside it. With her worldly possessions put away, Faith went to the window, pulled it open, and seated herself on the frame. She pulled out a cigarette and her lighter as she took in her surroundings.

It was suburbia. The houses were nice and well-kept, the yards neatly trimmed and dotted with weeded flowerbeds. The ocean was a silver-blue line on the horizon, broken at intervals by white forests of sticks that were the masts of docked sailboats. It was clean and bright and respectable. It was everything that Faith wasn't. The woman's full lips curved just a bit as she lit her cigarette and took a long drag. "Well, this probably won't last long," she murmured. "You better enjoy it while you've got it, Lehane." She unfolded her bit of paper and studied it. A name – a phone number. She sighed and tucked it away again and took another breath of tobacco smoke.

Later. Gotta work myself up to that one first. And her dark, moody eyes moved back out to study the cheerful landscape.