Faith is attempting to shower. The water flows both weak and cold. She bangs the shower head hopefully. No luck. So she breaks the shower head off the wall. Cool water cascades over her body. Much better. She admires her workmanship, the gaping hole, and lathers up. She's using lavender soap, because she stole some on a whim. It smells prim and reminds her of Buffy.
She closes her eyes and inhales the flecks of water. It begins to warm up. Thank god.
She turns off the tap and exits the shower, shaking her hair out over the drain.
Buffy should be here soon, for their "It's a date."
Faith saunters into her motel room, naked. The air in here is fresh, since she's got the wind coming through a cracked window. She rummages around her duffel bag, draws out a black tank. Getting dressed, Faith smiles at herself in a dingy mirror. She's managed to find even tighter jeans than usual. She lipsticks her mouth and pouts at the mirror. The seconds are moving too slowly. When will Buffy arrive?
Faith bounces on the balls of her bare feet, feeling a need to move. Instead, she plops down on the bed. She grabs a Playboy magazine she stole off of some sleazy looking dude. It gave her a lot of pleasure to snatch it from his hands and to shake her head at him disapprovingly. She flips through it, idly curious about the pictures, but remaining cool and blasé. She sees the appeal of these magazines, but you cannot beat the real thing, in her opinion. That is to say, flesh on sweaty flesh. She discards it. Waits. Waits.
Her eyes get heavy as she waits, and she dozes off.
When she wakes up, the sky through her curtain is black. The night is fully underway. And Buffy is not here.
What the hell?
Did Buffy just stand her up?
Faith wipes her eyes and lolls out of bed. Then her irritation makes her alert. Faith does not get stood up, ever. This is not right.
She pulls open the door and heads out. To Willy's Bar. Because anger makes Faith need to dance, and drink, cause some trouble. Even though Willy's Bar isn't known for dancing, she can't risk running into Buffy at the Bronze. Standing Faith up. Faith will just have to bring the party. She strides down the outdoor stairs and into the parking lot. The stars are twinkling obnoxiously bright. She shakes her head at them.
The night air covers her bare arms in goosebumps. She shakes her still damp hair, letting the light wind catch it. She wanders through street after street, each one empty and silent. Until suddenly it isn't empty. She sees Joyce, and is that Giles? And are they?
What the hell?
Faith cocks her head to one side. Joyce is sitting on the hood of a car with her legs wrapped around Giles. They are making out. They are also possibly fucking. What the hell?
Faith feels like her brain might be on the fritz. All she can think is "What the hell." Then again, so far it has been that kind of a night. Giles is wearing a white t-shirt, and holding a lit cigarette in his hand. A hand which is holding Joyce's head protectively. They don't notice Faith as she walks by, doing a double and triple take. She is having trouble looking away. It's just so weird. She can see Joyce's tongue darting into Giles' mouth. Giles' hips are thrusting. When Joyce fishes a pair of handcuffs from her clothes, Faith turns her head. She wonders if she's dreaming. She is passing right by Joyce and Giles and neither notice her. Maybe she is invisible. She shakes her head. Fucking bizarre.
Instead of lingering by this weird middle-aged fuck fest like a peeping tom-ette, she continues on her way to Willy's Bar. Now she doubly needs to dance, to shake off her anger and forget whatever the hell she just saw. It doesn't totally gross her out, both Joyce and Giles are pretty babe-ish for old people… But it makes much too little sense. She is disquieted by it.
She shakes her head again, this time to fluff up her drying curls.
When she arrives at the bar it is packed. Willy's is never packed. And not only is it full, but it is full of middle aged humans. She sees a doctor type with her stethoscope around her neck. The older woman ensnares an older guy with the stethoscope and starts grinding up against him. Faith is thoroughly nonplussed. She approaches the bar, forcing people out of her path with at least some violence. None of the rowdy old folks even notice.
"What the hell is up with this crowd?" Faith asks Willy. She props her elbows on the bar and watches Willy clean a glass. He shrugs, frowns a little.
"Couldn't tell ya. Great business though." His confused frown turns into a smile. "What can I do ya for?"
"Tequila shots… several… surprise me with the number." Faith says, looking out over the room. She spares a single glance for Willy, who nods at her.
"Your wish is my command."
Something is very fishy in Sunnydale tonight. Faith doesn't know whether she will investigate or not. When she turns back to the counter, Willy has placed a row of four shots in front of her.
She beams and nods at him. She fishes some dollar bills from her back pocket and slams them on the counter. Willy rifles through them, seems satisfied that it resembles the right amount, and pops them in the till.
"Those all for you?" he asks.
"Damn right." Faith says. She surveys the tequila. It's been too long since she's been drunk. The Scoobies don't drink at all, and she's trying very hard to be a good little girl and fit in. Or she was, till Buffy stood her up. "Any lime for me? And where's my salt?"
Willy scratches his head for a moment. He ducks behind the counter and comes up with a lime. He slices it into quarters and plops one across the top of each glass.
"I don't got salt." Willy shrugs, and walks off. Faith mimics his shrug. A lime will have to do.
She takes the first shot, relishing the burn that travels down her throat, and squirts lime juice into her mouth. She stares at the other shots, determinedly. Then she takes them all so fast a passerby would have seen little more than the blur of her arm. She sticks a slice of lime between her teeth and bites into it. Discarding the rind in a pile of limes, Faith turns toward the floor. The middle aged vibes are really making this hard. At least they are all dancing. Willy's is not necessarily a dancing place. She looks around for non-human patrons. There are a couple vampire looking types leaning against the corner of the bar. A male and female, in matching plaid shirts and black jeans. They're both eyeing up the patrons in a hungry way. She might have to teach them some manners later.
She stands up and heads toward the dart board. Despite four shots, Faith is thoroughly sober and will continue to be. Her slayer constitution (and excessive drinking habits) mean that her tolerance is relatively high. Next round is gonna be on somebody else though.
There is a strange looking demon chick by the dartboard, with spikes ringing her forehead. Her skin is warm blue, and her fingers appear to be webbed. She perks up when Faith walks towards her.
"You wanna play?" the demon's voice is high pitched and girly. Faith raises her eyebrow. Not what she expected.
"If you're ready to get beat, then yeah I do." Faith beams at the demon and sweeps up all the darts from the board. She hands the demon the green darts and keeps the red.
"Humans first," the demon squeaks, her black eyes full of mischief. Like Buffy's eyes, except inhuman and freaky.
"Don't mind if I do." Faith nods and makes her first throw. Bullseye. Second throw, bullseye. Third, predictably, bullseye.
"You're good." says the demon. "And I'm Ilse." the demon throws out the introduction as she makes her first shot. She knocks one of Faith's darts from its bullseye position and replaces it there. The move is flawless. Ilse knows what she's doing.
"Call me F." Faith says, feeling protective of her identity. But then a sad feeling deflates her. That's a name Buffy uses. Not this Ilse chick.
Ilse nods. She eyes Faith up and down, making Faith shiver.
"I can see that we're both quite good. Wanna make it more interesting, go around the world?" Ilse says.
"What?" Faith has no idea what that means.
"It's a variation on the game, we need to hit each segment, from one to twenty in number order. Then the bullseye."
"Why not?" Faith nods. "But what do I get when I win?"
"What are you drinking, my dear? Winner gets a drink."
"Works for me."
Faith again gathers up the darts, scooping one of hers off the sticky, beer spattered floor.
"Demons first," she says, before Ilse can speak up.
They begin. Throwing three darts at a time, they move flawlessly. If Faith is good at anything, it must be pub games. She feels sweat beading on her temple. She wipes it away with the back of her fist. The board has been half traversed. She aims for the nine. And misses. Damn. She hit the black sliver of twelve instead. Next shot she gets nine. Ilse will never miss. The game is as good as lost. And Faith hates losing.
Ilse rolls up her sleeves to reveal arms that are tattooed in black ink. She takes aim, makes three perfect shots. The game continues. Faith examines Ilse. For a demon, she's strangely beautiful. Faith wonders how dangerous she is. Probably very. All the better.
The game is almost done and Faith is still losing. But suddenly, Ilse misses a shot. A shot she shouldn't have missed, given her obvious skill. Faith looks at her from the corner of her eye. Ilse smiles at her, revealing a mouth full of little fangs. Ilse misses again.
Faith turns away, looks around the room. Still full of old folks. The vampires continue to lean in the corner, looking around at everyone. An old woman is dancing on the bar top, snaking her bra out from under her dress. Room looks ready to blow. Too many people, too many demons. Faith hopes for chaos.
It's her turn, the last round now. She feels sudden confidence, inspired by the nervous, frenetic energy of this place. She makes the bullseye. Looks at Ilse expectantly.
"You've won." Ilse says, nodding at the board.
"I did…?" Faith quirks her head.
"It's like a race to the bullseye and you got it."
Faith shrugs. She's not gonna contest a victory. Walking toward the bar, Ilse pulls a wallet from the pocket of her faded jeans. Faith sees the way Ilse swishes her hips as she walks, it's a flirty walk, Faith knows it well. Ilse wants Faith to watch her. Faith follows after, again pushing people out of her way with more than the necessary force. This time, people start moving out of her way as she approaches. Damn right.
She leans at the counter beside Ilse.
"Tequila, was it?" Ilse asks.
"Yeah… how did you?" Faith forms half the question.
Ilse waves her hand.
"I'm observant."
Ilse had already placed the order and Willy deposits four more shots on the table.
"Pretty generous." Faith says, eyebrow raised.
Ilse clinks a glass of something murky and pungent smelling against one of Faith's shots.
"Cheers."
Faith shrugs. This time Willy remembered the lime. Faith does the shots one after the other. She takes a moment in between each one to tip the glass toward Ilse and smile. When she's done, she mutters thanks to Ilse and heads out to dance.
Shoving her way through middle aged and old folks she makes an adequate dancing radius for herself. The older people are all grinding up on each other. She sees several couples making out, plus a bunch of very flirty three-man sandwiches. The world has really gone crazy. She closes her eyes, tries to isolate the sound of the music, to find the rhythm. Got it. She opens her eyes and starts dancing on her own. It takes a lot of swagger to dance on one's own, part of why she does it.
When she spins toward the bar she sees Ilse has sidled up behind her. Ilse takes Faith's hand and spins her again. She draws Faith in close to her chest at the end of the spin. Faith smiles into Ilse's disconcerting black eyes.
Ilse smiles close-mouthed this time and leans in towards Faith. Ilse smells like the sea, like Faith imagines a shark might smell. Ilse brushes her lips against Faith's and they are cold. Faith closes her eyes. She presses into the kiss. Ilse strokes her hands through Faith's curls. Faith's head becomes foggy. This is better than good, it's disorienting. It's… Faith can't think, she just kisses and kisses Ilse, whose arms are now wrapped tightly around Faith's waist. Faith tries to break the kiss, can't, can't move. The feeling is heady, in a way that makes Faith wary. But it's like her mind is slowing down, like she's been drugged. Ilse breaks the kiss and winks at Faith.
"Crazy night in Sunnydale." Ilse says. "See you around, slayer."
Ilse releases Faith from her grasp and walks away. Walks through the people and out the back door of Willy's Bar. Faith shakes her head, tries to move. Still can't move. The world is spinning a bit. She needs to follow Ilse. Faith is pretty sure. She moves slowly, shuffles through the people. When she reaches the alleyway it is deserted. Faith's senses are reeling. She feels dull. Her vision is blurred and she hears each sound as if she's under water. She clutches her head. Piercing pain flares up in her temple. How did Ilse know she was a slayer? The thought comes piecemeal into Faith's head, she can barely conceptualize it. But again she is unsettled. Who is Ilse, how did she know, and where the hell is she now? Or at least some thoughts vaguely resembling those bob along in Faith's head. She's underwater and she can't see and she can't think. And so of course, the vampires from the bar decide to pay her a visit.
They come up behind her. One clamps an icy hand over her mouth. She recognizes his dried blood smell from the bar. His black jeans are caked in it, the colour camouflaging the blood from a layman's eye.
"Hey there pretty lady," he whispers into her neck.
"We better get out of here, Willy will be real mad if we kill someone in his alleyway honey…" the female one says.
"If we quit town though, it doesn't matter what Willy thinks." the male vampire says. Faith hears his irritability. They lower their voices and continue to argue. Normally Faith would be able to hear, but she can't make out the sounds, because of the muddle that is her head. She squirms and tries to worm out of his grasp, but she can't. Her whole body feels weak and useless. Think… Think… Think… She commands herself.
She takes a moment to try to right her head, to make the world stop spinning. With all her focus, she's able to do it. She has a thin, short stake in her pocket, in case of emergency. She sneaks it out, grips it in her fist. The two vampires are still having a whispered argument. Got to love dysfunctional relationships. She takes a deep breath, accidentally inhaling the smell of the vampire's hand. It's so dead and earthy. For a second she thinks she might puke. Holds it back. Readies her unsteady mind. She elbows him as hard as she can in the gut.
As hard as she can is pretty damn hard. He staggers back. She rounds on him and his lady.
"You picked the wrong chick…" she says, her voice sluggish. "To mess with."
She hopes that that is true. But she's still unsteady. Her odds are not looking great. She crouches, gets ready to dust their asses. They look at each other with shocked faces. But then the guy smiles and his girlfriend catches his confidence. They circle her, and both punch her at once. She blocks the female one's punch, but the guy's lands, knocking the wind from her gut. She punches back, at the guy. It crunches into his jaw. She moved fast enough to take him by surprise. He holds a hand to his face, swearing. But his girlfriend has landed a punch as Faith is distracted. She looks down at the fist that has connected with her solar plexus. Ouch. Faith edges backwards. She should probably run. She backs up some more and collides with a human shape. Damn it. She is not having good luck tonight. She turns around. The guy is tall and dark haired. He wears a sullen frown. He gives off some demon vibes, but she can't be sure.
"Need help?" he asks her.
"Nah. I'm five-by-five," she says, her voice a bit breathless.
He ignores her and steps in front of her, shielding. She notices that while he's kind of imposing, he is shaking all over. Chivalry's all well and good, but he's gonna get killed.
Except the two vampires have backed up. They look afraid. They bow their heads.
"Sorry… We're going… We didn't mean anything by it." The woman says. Her boyfriend nods vigorously.
"We'll just be off then," the guy says. And then they start running. Not the response Faith had foreseen at all.
"What was that?" Faith asks. "Who are you?"
"Just a friend," he says. Faith hates it when people are cryptic.
"Whose friend?" She scowls at him.
"You're a slayer aren't you?" he asks back.
Her scowl deepens all the more. She crosses her arms against her chest. She is not answering that one.
"If you're expecting a thank you, tough luck. I could have handled that." Faith says. She pockets her stake, rounds off to face this guy. He shrugs at her.
"I'm not expecting one."
He turns to go.
"Wait up…" she calls to him. He turns his head back toward her. She gives him a curious once over. Handsome in a broody way. "I would have liked to dust those creeps."
"Normally so would I. Not up to it tonight." When he says that, he lifts his hands up, shows her how they shake.
"Good thing they were afraid of you then." Faith says. "But, like, why?"
"I have a history of bad behaviour…" he says, scowling.
"A man after my own heart," she says, beaming.
"I need to go." He ducks his head, in a gesture that is a mix of coy and mysterious. "Stay safe."
"Don't you worry about me. I'm five-by-five. You stay safe." Faith laughs as she says it.
He waves and heads off down the alleyway. She checks over her shoulder to make sure the vampire couple are gone. When she looks back the dude has disappeared. She rolls her shoulders. Her head is still a bit foggy, but the adrenaline from the fight helped. Still, probably best to head back to the horrid motel she calls home sweet home.
She weaves back on a route that gives the cemeteries a wide berth. Being so out of it is making her risk averse, for once. The streets are all populated by men and women who look completely out of it. She encounters multiple car crashes with people standing around them, yelling at one another. But laughter breaks up the yelling, and the people seem to really not give a shit that their cars are wrecked. Faith shivers. It is a crazy night in Sunnydale. And Faith is ready for it to be over.
She thinks about Ilse's kiss with a mixture of fondness and fear. Ilse put a spell on her or something, and Faith can't believe she let down her guard like that. For some really strange, beautiful demon chick. Part of her wanted revenge on Buffy for standing her up. And what better revenge than kissing a scary demon? Smooth move. What a stupid night. As Faith regains some of her composure, is able to think again, she feels angry. This was supposed to be a straightforward, drink, dance, dust kind of affair. Again the universe has conspired against her plans.
Rounding a corner, her dismal motel comes into sight. She sees a figure sitting on the bottom of the outdoor staircase, head leaned against the railing. Getting closer, she sees blonde hair, a gray cardigan half-buttoned over a pink shirt.
Is that…
"Buffy?" Faith says, as she approaches the sleeping slayer.
Buffy's eyes flutter open. She smiles sleepily, and wipes a hand across her face.
"Sorry I'm late." Buffy says.
"I'm pretty sure you stood me up, actually." Faith says. She crosses her arms and frowns. Buffy stands up on the third step, so that she towers over Faith.
"Sorry." Buffy repeats. "I tried to make it. But circumstances intervened. You notice how all the adults are completely wigging?"
"Yeah."
"Started with principal Snyder, and his stupid band candy. It got very cringeworthy. Then I had to save the babies of Sunnydale from becoming a sewer demon's dinner… And it was kind of time sensitive."
"What?" Faith looks at Buffy, who appears to be sincere, if incomprehensible.
"This Ethan Rayne guy put a spell on the band candy that made all the adults into teenagers. Then, when the adults were distracted, a bunch of babies got kidnapped to be fed to this beast. Basically." Buffy shrugs.
"That… is completely crazy. And, I guess, also a good reason to have stood me up."
"I know, I would have grabbed you, had the death of babies not been so imminent." Buffy says. "Forgive me?"
Faith attempts to stay mad, tries it out, but it doesn't work. That is probably the most valid excuse in the history of history.
"Yeah," Faith smiles now. "It's pretty cute that you waited up for me."
"Well, I didn't want you to think I had forgotten." Buffy says, her eyes lighting up. "Because I wouldn't."
Her phrasing is so cute, and as she towers above Faith on that third step, Faith feels her heart flutter. Faith reaches out her hands and grabs Buffy's waist. Faith hoists Buffy up and places her on the ground. This gives Faith back her height advantage. Buffy giggles. Faith grabs a lock of Buffy's hair and twirls it in her fingers.
"Thanks B." Faith says, leaning forward so that her forehead touches Buffy's.
"Anytime." Buffy whispers, breath so close that it warms Faith's nose and lips.
"Hey, I met this dark brooding dude, that's your type right?" Faith asks. She thinks she might be a dark and broody girl, so it seems like a good question to ask.
Buffy lurches back. Maybe not the right question.
"Who? Where?"
"He kinda saved my ass when I got jumped by some vamps… Didn't mention a name… Are you okay Buffy?"
Buffy's eyes scan Faith's face. Buffy is grimacing.
"It's nothing." Buffy says, in the most unconvincing way possible. But Faith sees no need to push the issue, would prefer to get back to the earlier, flirty mood.
She wraps her arms around Buffy's waist.
"Don't worry about it B." Faith says. Buffy smiles up at her again, though the smile has a sadness to it.
"Okay. I won't." Buffy says.
Faith draws Buffy in. She can feel Buffy's fast and erratic heartbeat against her chest.
"I'm glad you came." Faith says.
"Me too." Buffy replies. Buffy stares at Faith and then at Faith's lips. Buffy licks her own lips. A good sign.
Faith waits, stares back.
Buffy leans her head up and kisses Faith. She puts her hands on Faith's head and pushes Faith into the kiss. Faith closes her eyes and melts into it. Buffy is so warm. And this kiss is all the more fantastic because it's real… No spells. Just Buffy, smelling of vanilla and soap and sweat. Faith sticks her tongue into Buffy's mouth and keeps kissing. Buffy sucks on Faith's tongue and runs her fingers through Faith's hair.
Then Buffy pulls back. She looks up at Faith with dazed eyes.
"So what are we doing?" Buffy asks.
"Kissing?" Faith says.
"I know… But… What does it mean?" Buffy replies.
"Goodnight B." Faith says, smiling. Faith doesn't want to answer yet. She winks at Buffy. Buffy squeezes Faith's waist.
"Okay. Goodnight Faith."