A/N: This was written during the month-long wait between Orpheus and Dirty Girls. I abandoned it after the actual storyline Jossed the hell out of my plot, and I suck at AU in the Whedonverse. I guess many years of separation makes it easier. I haven't made any changes to the content despite my gut instinct to rip the entire thing apart. Any mistakes are mine, because I have no clue how to find a good BtVS beta nowadays.

Also, this is dedicated to Nos - thx for updating your WIP after nine years on the shelf and inspiring me to revisit my own work!

Faith hadn't wanted to admit it to anyone. This was California, after all. Angel knew, obviously, hyped-up vamp senses. Wes had bought them. He'd even had a couple. LA was okay. Sunnydale was different. But after an hour of updates and information regarding The First, it became a necessity. She needed a cigarette.

Willow stayed in the car, quietly humming to a song on the radio. Faith was leaning against the passenger door, looking off into the darkness of nothing. They had stopped in the middle of the desert, one of those stretches you pass through and pray that you don't run out of gas or get a flat. There were stars in the sky, something she hadn't gotten the opportunity to see in years. Not a spare moment in these past few days to look up. Once upon a time she'd been obsessed, learning the names of every constellation. An entire night had been spent studying her little map and putting the glow-in-the-dark stickers up on her ceiling in the exact order. Mom was too drunk to notice the money that had been taken from her purse to fund the purchase. But weeks later she'd staggered in, saw the little pinpoints of light, and ordered her daughter to remove them before the landlord pitched a bitch. "Ordered," of course, being a fairly loose interpretation of how Faith had been dragged out of bed and tossed around the room.

Even now she couldn't look up for too long. For the most part she just appreciated that there was enough light to make out miles of flatland surrounded by mountains. Years ago, when she'd first come to California, she hadn't paid a damn bit of attention to the scenery. Too much on her mind, although it most likely wouldn't have appealed. But since this would be her last chance to see anything other than concrete and barbed wire, she had to take a moment. Faith was resigned to the fact that once she went back to prison, she'd never leave. So she deliberately savored the smell of the fresh air, the infinite emptiness of this place, the way the breeze lifted the hair off the back of her neck. Hell, even this cigarette was damn near perfect. Wes had really spoiled her with these cloves. She loved the bit of sweetness on the filter and the little crackles of spark as she inhaled. In fact, it was worth it to have another.

As Faith pulled a second from the pack and lit it off the butt of the first, she felt a slight shift in the car. The radio snapped off and the driver's door opened, and suddenly Willow was beside her, leaning against the car.

"So I think I get it. With the smoking." The redhead remarked.

"Yeah?"

"Well, not the emphysema and cancer and dying part of it. But it seems relaxing, to concentrate on something so simple. Just breathing and thinking."

"There is that."

"Plus those smell good, like spices."

"They're clove cigarettes."

"Hmm. You'll have to talk Spike into smoking those, 'cause he's stinking up the whole house with his." Silence for a moment, and then, "Orion."

"Huh?" The slayer asked, glancing over at the shadowed outline of the girl beside her.

Willow pointed at a portion of the sky directly ahead. "That one's Orion. Or at least the belt part of him."

Faith started for a moment, eerily certain that the witch had snuck into her mind. She squinted against the darkness, trying to make out an expression on the girl's face, but all she saw was night.

Willow was still going on, pointing out constellations. She faltered after a minute, her hand dropping. "I guess I just… haven't looked in a while. I don't really get out anymore. And when I do it's not so much about looking at stars. It's more with fighting the evil. It would be nice to get out sometimes, in a non-fighty way, ya know? You probably… don't know, what with the prison and all. Yeah, I think the cold is turning my brain off, so I'm just gonna get back in the car now, 'kay?" She hurried around to the driver's side and got in, muttering something unintelligible under her breath.

The slayer couldn't resist a chuckle. She took one last drag, then flicked the butt out into the night. It glowed bright red as it arced and fell. A glance upward and she forgave the probable mind-invasion, and got back into the car. Willow shifted it into drive, and they were off. The hum of tires gliding on pavement did little to fill the silence. Faith wished for the radio again, even that girl-power rock the witch seemed to be so fond of. It was way too difficult to try and think of something to say. Willow, however, did not seem to have that problem.

"I'm trying to think of what else to tell you, to prepare you for what things are like in Sunnydale right now."

"Apocalyptic?"

"Well, besides that. It's just really hard. There's like a million people living in the house. You have to schedule time to use the bathroom, and fight for food, plus sometimes you're the only person in the room speaking English. Then there's Buffy's pep talks, which are less about pep and more about everyone dying."

"Sounds like fun."

"Actually, not so much. So, are you nervous?"

"Why would I be nervous? I'm sure everyone's just dying to see me."

"Well, I tried to kill Buffy and Xander last year, but we're fine now. And before that Buffy went crazy and tied us all up in the basement, and she was going to kill us."

"Huh."

"I just mean, no hard feelings. It's only attempted murder, that's nothing."

Faith caught Willow's smile under the glow of the dash lights, and laughed without meaning to. The knot in her stomach was starting to unwind, and she settled back into her seat. She'd forgotten about this part of the Scooby gang – humor with Armageddon on their asses.

"How long until we get there?"

"A few more hours."

"Mind if catch a little shut-eye? It's been a rough couple of days."

"Not at all. I'll wake you up when we get into town."

"Thanks." The slayer reclined her seat a bit, her head lolling to the side. For once in her life, she was asleep within moments.