AN: Sorry about the long wait for update. I fractured my wrist at the end of May, and as you can imagine, it made typing a little difficult. It's mostly better now, but don't expect more than weekly updates, if that. Darn real life.
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True to her word, Faith needed a cigarette. Once outside, she walked over to the far parking spot that held Weevil's car and perched on the hood while lighting up. He reached over to snag one for himself, before settling next to her.
"I didn't know you smoked," she commented.
"Not for a while. And your bony ass better not scratch my paint," he replied companionably. Weevil stole her lighter, too. The stylized design on the front of the Zippo was of a human heart, bearing the words "Heart Breaker". A snap-hiss, and a flicker of flame were followed by deep breath and a curl of smoke escaping his mouth. He handed it back.
Faith studied his profile. No matter how many times she gave the speech to newbie Slayers and their families, she never quite knew where to start. But he wanted to know the truth. The corner of her mouth quirked, and she decided where to begin.
"You have a choice, Eli," she broke the silence, startling him with the use of his real name. "There was a moment like this in that movie, The Matrix. Red pill, blue pill. If you really want to know the truth, you want to know why I've been lying to you, if you want the real story of all the shit I deal with every day, I'll tell you. I'll show you. And you'll never be the same again. I'm a front line soldier in a war that has been going on for thousands of years. I live fast, and chances are, I'll die real damn young. I've already lost more friends than I can count. It's dangerous, and it's hard, and it's a life filled with deception and violence. So far, what I've just said? Could mean anything to you. Right now, I'm giving you the option to call me a crazy bitch, and walk away. Because once you know the truth, once I've shown you what I've seen, what I've done..." Faith turned haunted eyes to him. "You can't un-know this shit."
Weevil watched her intently. He knew to the depth of his bones that she was being straight with him right now. And he also knew that, while it would hurt her if he told her she was full of it and walked away, Faith thought it was probably for the best. That it would be his smartest move to just let it go, and get out. Maybe she was involved in some sort of turf-war, or was part of some government black-ops crew. Whatever this truth was, it was some deep shit, if she'd lost as many people as she claimed.
"Why did you choose to get involved?" he stalled, needing something more to help him decide. If it was really as life-altering as she claimed, Weevil wanted a little more to go on.
Faith toyed with the lighter, flipping it open, then shut again. "At first, I didn't choose. I was drafted. Was told it was my duty, my destiny. Years later, that was when I chose. I decided to give it everything I had. Because if I didn't, if I refused, then people were going to suffer, and people were going to die. Not just people I knew, not just people I cared about... lots of people. Joe Shmoes, living their lives without any clue about the real deal. They were going to suffer, and bleed, and die, and it was all on me." Her shoulders hunched, as if the weight of the world had suddenly descended on them.
It was then that Weevil realized, the weight had always been there. The weight of responsibility, the weight of guilt. She just usually hid it better.
"All it takes for evil to triumph, is for good men to do nothing," he quoted softly.
Faith shot him a sharp look. "Exactly," she murmured. "Exactly."
Weevil nodded, and took a deep breath. Almost as an afterthought, he took a hit off his cigarette. "Will my family be in danger?" he asked neutrally.
"More than they already are, just by living? Not necessarily. Just knowing about the fight doesn't make you a soldier." She thought carefully, about rookies and their families becoming targets. Neptune was on the lower end of the supernatural spectrum, for some reason, at least as far as random vamp attacks and such were concerned. "No," she repeated more confidently. "It shouldn't, as long as you're careful."
"I'm no good at doing nothin'," Weevil stated firmly, flicking his cigarette out into the night. He turned towards the brunette, expression serious. "You've tried to scare me off. I don't think you're crazy. I said earlier that I've got your back, and that hasn't changed. So lay it on me, morena. I want to know."
Faith smiled brilliantly at him, though her eyes still carried a hint of sadness. "You good to drive?"
"Yeah," he replied, caught a little off guard by the question. "Where to?"
"San Diego. It's a lot bigger hot spot than Neptune is, so I can show you a few things. And we can talk in the car." She dropped her own Camel to the ground, and stepped on it. Car doors opened, and both passengers slid inside.
Weevil started the ignition, one hand on the gear shift.
"So where do you want to start?" Faith asked, reaching to turn off the radio.
"How much do I really know about you? How much was lies?" He was pretty much ready to believe anything she told him, and it seemed she had a lot to tell. But he really wanted to know this first. To know how much she had trusted him, how much of his friend was real, and how much was bullshit.
The brunette turned towards him, settling herself more comfortably on the vinyl interior. "I lied as little as possible. You've pretty much figured out all the big ones. I'm not Cuban. My real dad isn't military, far as I know. I've never lived in Florida. I don't know if Veronica told you about finding my birth certificate? Jennifer Faith Alvarez Herrera? She was real. But she's not me. Her story, her family... when she died two years ago, they were given to me. I use her past as my cover. My real name is Faith Lehane. You were right about my being in a gang. And about prison."
Weevil glanced over at her. So far, he wasn't surprised by anything she'd said. His brow furrowed. "The name sounds a little familiar."
"Yeah, well, I was all over the news in May of 2000. Assault, grand larceny, and multiple murder." Faith held her breath, waiting for his reaction.
"That was you?" he looked surprised, but not threatened. "You would've been what, sixteen?"
"I was fifteen when I turned myself in. I killed my first man a year before that."
"Damn. So, juvie, then?" Weevil was processing. She didn't act like the stone killer that had been on the news all those years ago.
"Nope. They fast-tracked my trial since I plead guilty, and threw me in with the big girls for 35-life, no parole. I was in for three years, and then one of my friends came to see me for the first time. He told me that something big was going down, something they needed me for. So I broke out, helped save the world, and that was that. I thought about going back," at this point, her fists clenched, "but Giles and Angel talked me out of it. Told me I could do more good outside than in. So I laid low for a while, living in Cleveland with the rest of the crew. Then, after another big battle, Sarge joined up as a trainer, and offered to let me use his daughter's identity, since no one knew she was dead yet."
Weevil could see how much it was costing her to talk about this, but he couldn't tell her to stop. If she was willing to say it, he needed to hear.
"I accepted. Willow did some of her magic, and switched out our pictures. I did some boot camp and background studying, and so I've got a clean slate, as far as the paperwork is concerned. That pretty much covers anything I've outright lied about. Now, the parts I just haven't told you? They get a little more complicated." Faith stared out the window as they entered San Diego city limits.
He nodded. "Anywhere in particular you want me to go?" They were still on the highway, heading towards downtown.
Faith's brow furrowed in thought. "Next exit will do. Then we're gonna park and walk for a minute. The next part of the big reveal is more on the 'show' side, and less of the 'tell'. Trust me, it'll make it easier." She could only hope he didn't flip his shit once he saw that vampires were real.
"A la orden," he replied easily, flipping on his turn signal and easing towards a darkened street near rough looking section of downtown. Weevil felt like pointing out that he was being amazingly patient, but one glance at her tense features let him know that he shouldn't push it. This was important, this was big, and he was going to have to wait for more answers. He'd already gotten a few.
He parked on a side street, and locked his doors securely. A whispered prayer that his baby survive the night, and the pair began their seemingly aimless stroll down a network of alleys and back streets.
"Here's what's about to go down," Faith broke the silence about half an hour into their walk. The prickling sensation on the back of her neck let her know that the moment was close. "Some guys have been following us for a few blocks. They are going to try to jump us."
Weevil tensed, and his hand moved towards his pocket and his knife.
"I need you to trust me on this one. Try to avoid getting hit, and let me handle them. It's important," she said in an undertone. Faith watched his eyes narrow, his nostrils flare, and finally the sharp nod he gave her. She mentally inventoried the weapons she wore, from the hidden knife in its spine sheath, to the stakes in their quick-release wrist holders, to the emergency spare at her ankle. A cocky smile was flashed at her friend, as she waited for their stalkers to make themselves known.
"Follow my lead?" she purred, adding a slight weave to her stride, and beginning to giggle loudly in a fairly good imitation of being drunk. The side street they were on abruptly ended in a cinder block wall.
Weevil looked a little confused, but obligingly stumbled, slurring out a swear or two in Spanish. "Why does the sidewalk keep moving, baby? You sure the car's back here?"
"Can't remember," Faith replied, still giggling. "Did we bring the car?"
"Dunno," he began, and was saved from having to improvise more inebriated conversation by four dark shapes blocking off the end of the alley.
"Well, well. Look what we've got here, boys. Don't ya just love Friday nights?" the first figure spoke from the shadows.
Faith backed up quickly, pulling Weevil with her to place their backs against the wall. "What do you want?" she almost-whimpered. While her Slayer-senses were going haywire with the vampire-alerts, she wasn't going to risk a staking until she saw their game faces.
Gliding, inhuman steps brought the four into full view of moonlight. Yellow eyes and sharp fangs gleamed.
"What do we want?" one of them laughed.
"Dinner," a third finished with a snarl.
Faith spared a glance at Weevil, who was looking stunned. Turning back to the vamps, she let a wicked grin spread across her face. "How 'bout a nice stake?" she quipped, throwing herself at them before they had a chance to react.
In that first rush, she tackled one of them to the ground, and stabbed him through the heart with a practiced flip of her wrist. She rolled with the momentum, regaining her feet to pop up behind the tallest vamp. Her offensive continued with a brutal kick to his spine, which knocked him into another one of his cronies.
"Slayer," snarled the first one to speak as he fell into a fighting stance.
"Vampire," she returned casually, before launching into a flurry of kicks and blows that had him backing away. Faith sensed the others starting to surround her, and spun to throw one of her stakes. Dust filled the small alley. A claw-like hand grabbed her from behind, and she responded instantly with an elbow to the gut, and a fist to the face that took her attacker to the ground. An instant later, and it was that much harder to breathe.
The last remaining vampire turned to run. The Slayer took a flying leap, kicking off a nearby dumpster to land a solid foot between his shoulder blades, driving him into a conveniently placed pile of broken wooden pallets. The whole exchange took maybe three minutes.
Faith brushed vamp dust off her hands, and shook out her hair. Stooping to pick up her discarded stake, she turned to see how Weevil was doing.
"Those were..." he trailed off, looking confused.
"Vampires," she responded simply. She stopped a few feet away from him, waiting.
He seemed to think for a few long moments, then he shook his head. Meeting her eyes squarely, Weevil was at a loss for words. "Are there a lot of them?" he found himself asking.
"Enough to keep me in business. I wasn't lying about being a bounty hunter. Thing is, usually I'm hunting demons, not bail-jumpers. Though the skips tend to pay better. On the books, at least."
"Demons?" he asked, his voice almost cracking on the last syllable. His head cocked quizzically to one side.
"All sorts of 'em. Some are okay, just want to make their bills and live their lives. Others are more into eating babies, and a few select nasties like to try to kick start the apocalypse on a regular basis. That's where me and my people come in. Keep them in check." Faith grinned wryly.
"Huh." The young man thought that over for a bit, then slowly smiled. "You think I could take one?"
"Maybe. With practice. Vampires at least are tougher, stronger, and faster than an Olympic athlete. An they're on the low side of the power pyramid. Staking, sunlight, and decapitation are the only ways to kill them. Well, fire works too, but it can be a little conspicuous. Wanna go troll a cemetery and find out? The newbies are always a good place to start." The Slayer's grin widened.
"Hell yeah." Weevil cracked his knuckles. It would be good to kick the shit out of something and not have to worry about assault charges.
Faith blinked, a little take aback at his easy acceptance. "Right on," she replied. "Closest is a few miles east of here, so we might wanna go back to the car."
"One question," the ex-biker asked as they turned back towards his Chevy.
"Ask away."
"How 'bout a nice stake?" he inquired in disbelief.
"Hey! I suck at puns, alright?" Faith punched his shoulder, and he broke out laughing.
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As dawn broke over the horizon, Weevil dropped the Slayer off at her hotel. He was bruised, tired, and covered in a suspicious dusty substance. His hands ached, and he had splinters in his palms from the improvised stake he'd used against the third vampire he'd fought, but he felt something deep inside. Something that had been missing ever since Felix had been killed. Maybe it was just the cathartic nature of violence. Maybe it was the return of a piece of his self-respect. Maybe it was the realization of his place in the real universe, the one that contained vampires and demons and witches and Slayers. Or maybe it was the newly-restored bonds of friendship with the sassy brunette.
Whatever it was, when Weevil climbed into his bed, he found another thing he'd gone far too long without. A deep, and dreamless sleep.
