A shadow fell across the small gravestone in a Boston cemetery. The one who cast it stared at the engravings before crouching briefly to lay a single white rose upon the earth. As she rose, her hand drifted to brush across the name.

"I know you always loved white roses, but I could only get my hands on one. Sorry if it's a disappointment," she whispered.

Faith, the second Slayer, stood and stared down at the rock.

"You know, I always wanted to be like you. You were so kind and open and," she snorted, "So emotional."

A quick glance was thrown over her shoulder, to make sure she was alone in the dieing sun.

"You wouldn't believe what's happened to me. I got a calling now. I kill things."

A breeze cut through the air.

Faith brushed her hair back from her face.

"You wouldn't have been able to do it. You're soft heart would have gotten you killed a long ass time ago. But sometimes… I still wish I could be more like you."

Faith squatted in the small space afforded to the small headstone in the large, overfilled cemetery. Her hand again reaching out to touch the stone.

"I've done things I'm not proud of, I'll admit. You would hate what I've become. I'm a killer now. Not just the baddies that go bump in the night, but people, innocent people. I even went to jail before the world almost went to Hell, again, and a Slayer was needed to fight. I'm good at that. Fighting. You never were though. You were just good at everything else."

A crackle was heard and Faith spun around, pulling a stake out of her pocket and getting ready to fight, though the sun still had not set.

She faced the source and found a tall black man in the shade of a nearby tree. She relaxed.

Turning back to the stone, she gestured to the man in the shadows, "That's Robin. You would like him. I do," she smiled, " I do. I can get used to saying that. It's the two little words that will make me into Faith Woods in a few weeks. Maybe then I can be more like you. Except the crying. I don't cry."

Another crackle sounded and Faith turned to her shadow man. He raised a hand to point at the quickly darkening sky.

Faith sighed as she stood, brushing dirt from her knees, "Well, I guess that's it. Things to kill, worlds to save, it's five by five. I said my piece, now you can have yours."

As Faith turned and made her way to her fiancé, a last ray of dieing sunlight illuminated the name etched in stone.

"Faith Lehane

1983-1998"