Helen's Kitchen Chapter 1
Timeline: Set between Season 2 and Season 3.
Pairing: Faith/"Anne"
Summary: Buffy's working at the diner, and, though she doesn't realize it, someone she's going to know very well stops by...
Point of View: Buffy's.
Author's Notes: Ok, we have four months when Buffy went off the grid between Becoming Part 2 and Anne, and we have no idea as to what happened to her in that time. What if, during her time in the big city, she met Faith and seriousness happened between them? Eventual Faith/"Anne" I OWN NOTHING.
Summer 1998 – June 12th.
She's been here about two weeks since everything hit the fan back in Sunnydale. Angel's death, her mother's rejection, being expelled from school. She idly wondered what had happened to them that first night after she got off the bus at the bus depot and spent a very sleepless night in a shelter. How they were reacting. If they even missed her...
It wasn't like she didn't think about them every night before she went to bed and every morning when she woke up to go to work. They were her family, for all intents and purposes, though they hadn't really acted like it before she had left.
"Kick his ass..."
"If you leave this house, don't even think about coming back."
It would have helped if she had support from them. If she had, then maybe she would have stayed back in Sunnydale. Hearing that her friends were supporting her killing the man she loved, and her mother essentially throwing her out of the house made her choice of running very easy to make.
And this was where she ran to.
"Anne! Break's over! Get back to work!"
Rolling her green eyes at the sound of the owner, Mitch's, obnoxious voice, she stood from the counter she sat at, a barely-touched grilled chicken sandwich and French fries marking the place. If it slowed down, she might be able to eat some of it, but more than likely, she'd end up taking it back to her apartment to be thrown away. Or given to one of the many homeless people she saw on the streets.
It wouldn't be the first time she'd done it. And it wouldn't be the last. She was sure of it.
Notepad and pen in hand, she approached a table of, as usual, truckers. "What'll you have?" she asked them plainly.
"Burger, a side of fries, and smother it in ketchup, sweetheart," one of them told her, sending her what was definitely a flirty smile underneath his facial hair.
"I'll take a steak, with mashed potatoes and fried onions, smothered in gravy," the one across from him told her, sending an almost glare at him for flirting with her. Or, at least thinking he was.
With nothing but a nod, she turned and walked to the kitchen, ripping the order off her notepad and clipping it to the revolving holder with the rest she and her fellow coworkers had filled out.
Just another day in the paradise that was Helen's Kitchen.
Though, if she were honest with herself, she really couldn't complain. Sure, her job sucked and her apartment was the size of her bedroom back home, but it was better than what she saw some of the others around here doing: Either hooking or living on the streets. She may have been living off a diet of Ramen Noodles and cold take-out from the diner, but she had a roof over her head at the very least. It was better than some of what she saw.
Checking on a few of her tables, and refilling two drinks, she was about to grab another table's orders when she heard Mitch bark, "Anne! You got a new customer! You gonna let Dolly do all your work?"
"Wouldn't dream of it," she muttered venomously under her breath, as she grabbed a menu and went to the door. Barely taking note of who was there, she gestured to the diner itself. "Table or counter?"
"Gimme a counter seat."
Inwardly sighing, she lead the customer close to her former sitting place, making a mental note to pack up her own lunch. "What can I get you to drink?" she asked, watching as they sat down, and almost blinking twice.
"I'll take a Coke," the girl across from her replied, sounding a bit like she had a dialect that came from the East or Northeast, maybe Boston or New York, she wasn't totally sure. Her hair was dark, maybe a little shorter than hers, but it was her eyes that had her caught. They seemed to radiate that she'd been at this street stuff longer than she had, but also shown just a light bit of sympathy for the blonde, maybe wondering just want circumstances had driven the young girl like herself to seek employment at a place like this.
"You goin' to get my drink anytime soon, Annie?"
The question brought her out of her own thoughts, and she looked across the counter to see an amused smile playing at the corners of the dark-haired girl's mouth.
"Uh, yeah...be right back..." With a weak smile, she was off, leaving her customer to review the menu. Why was it that she could feel a pair of dark eyes on her as she did so?
Luckily, when she came back, those eyes were focused on the menu and not on her. "Have you decided yet?" she asked, setting the glass of Coke down and grabbing her notepad.
"What's good here, Anne?" she asked, looking up at the blonde again.
"Good? Here?" Giving it some thought, she leaned on the counter, tapping her pen against the counter. "Alright, I shouldn't be saying this, but the burgers are a pretty safe bet, as are the chicken sandwiches. Both the fries and the onion rings are also a safe bet. For breakfast, the eggs are safe, and the sausage is, too. The cake and the cinnamon rolls are prepackaged, so they're also safe. Other than that, I wouldn't trust anything else on the menu."
Putting the menu down, the dark haired girl laughed loudly. "Well, how can I refuse service from someone like that?" Picking up the menu, she looks it over. "Alright, I'll have a burger...is the bacon safe here, Anne?"
A nod at those dark eyes. "Yeah, forgot to mention that."
"No prob." She waved off the apology like it was nothing. "Anyways, a burger with bacon, with a side of onion rings." Handing the menu back, she even threw on a wink. "And I'll even leave ya a tip for bein' so helpful, Annie."