Disclaimer: I own nothing, as per usual, send your praises to people better than I but leave the complaints in the reviews. I can deal with those. 'Heavy Fuel' is a song by Dire Straits. I'm sure they own the title... or someone other than I.

Note: Okay, so two quick updates... both of which I am not the happiest with. Say so long to the tree, it won't be making an appearance again... I have a feeling it's not very well liked anyways. I will pick up another point of view, a person this time. Hopefully it works out. There should be no huge problems with this chapter, other than spelling/etc, no help should be needed.

Heavy Fuel

The ground was cold against my back, my legs hurt and my hands hurt worse. I opened my eyes but they refused to focus, they remained shut for a few moments longer while the memories came into the open. Screaming and blood. What have I done now? It wasn't unusual for me to wake up cold and bloody, the past week in particular had been a nightmare. Fighting vampires with fucking swords, while drunk, was not a very good idea. Thank the Powers that Be for slayer healing, times three. I'm pretty sure the other two had my back the whole time; I should treat them better.

You're okay now. Run away. Go back to town… I'll handle… handle this fucker. I coughed harshly, vodka. I opened my eyes again, and things were a little clearer. I was in a graveyard of course, lying next to a fresh grave complete with flowers. I attempted to pull myself to a sitting position but that had mixed results, my head spun one way while everything else spun the other way. Concussion. I looked at the tombstone; a chunk was missing from the corner. I hope that's where the vamp hit that and not me. The air was damp and cold, the sun had just risen. Lucky fucker. I closed one eye in hopes that the world would stop its merry-go-round, it did, my hands were bruised and bloody, my jeans were muddy and bloody, my leather jacket was…

"You're finally awake eh." A voice. The voice that rang out was not someone native from Scotland, they sounded, well I didn't know from where exactly but I'd have put money on the Northern States. My eye scanned around, my jacket hit me hard in the face before I had a chance to see the voice.

"Get up or that mud stain will just get worse…" A woman, one I did not recognize. My hands found my jacket which was warmer than the rest of me.

"Who are you?" My voice was dry, hardly recognizable as the 'smooth talking Faith' everyone got so well acquainted with last night.

"The one who kept you safe last night. Get up. We need to leave before the mourners show up." My feet were unsteady, my boots were soaked. Did you go swimming Faith? My eye still made me pay; I did my best to make out the woman who was my saviour. She was maybe two inches taller than me, her hair was dirty blonde, her jeans fit loose as did her jacket, the only thing that showed off her strength was the broadsword she had dangling from her waist. Temperance Kane. That was only a guess.

"Who are you?" I asked again, I didn't really expect a better response which was a good thing because she didn't give a very good one, just low murmur and a glare. She started walking away from me as soon as I had stood up; walking wasn't as easy for me. My left knee felt like it had been hit with a sledge hammer, that explains the tombstone, and I was as fuckin' frozen as a Popsicle.

"I don't have a vehicle… which totally sucked for me." She started talking at around a hundred paces from the gates; we were headed down a hill on a curvy road that I also did not recognize. "The town you tore around in is, oh, two kilometres from here. You will walk it. I know you can. Gerry will teleport us back to my bar." I couldn't see her face, I couldn't tell how angry she was, her voice cut through me, made me feel like I was six years old. She spoke with power and confidence which was shown in her walk too, head held high, back straight, hand rested on the hilt of her sword.

"You were damn hard to track down Faith, Mr. Giles sent me a letter day you left I think. I was tracking you day after I got it, only caught up with you now. You sure picked a funny route, where were you headed? Doesn't matter I suppose, I let Mr. Giles know I'd look for you but not to expect anything. Apparently, you had some Witch losin' it with some … Buffy? What kinda valley-girl name is that… this Witch was castin' some mighty heavy spells lookin' for your sorry ass." She turned around, a sly smile played across her face. "I don't see the fuss though, you really need a shower." She was funny, and talked a lot, but it wasn't babbling. She was telling me a story, explaining it even though I didn't deserve to hear it; I still think she thought that she was punishing me. She wasn't.

"He got her calmed down, your valley-girl was mighty pissed, boy oh boy, but we don't ever have to talk 'bout her if you don't want. I don't like dealing with past girls, all that gives me a headache and I don't need to hear your conquest stories." I remained silent while she spoke, I didn't trust my weak-voice, it made me sound timid and I couldn't deal with that. She just kept talking, letting me know what I did in each town. She always got there a day or two late, made damn sure I knew it too. In total I had visited eight towns and gotten kicked out of each bar in each town. Someone should give me a medal.

We arrived at the town, I missed the 'welcome sign' and then figured it didn't matter, I wasn't going to write to anyone and I wasn't planning on making note of any of my adventures, so town names seemed pointless. I can't even tell you the name of the town that the 'the Angels Fist' was in, her bar. The alley we met Gerry in was five minutes from where we entered the town; he was a short fat man, with absolutely no hair anyplace I could see. He stared me up and down, and then ignored me.

"This is what you were looking for?"

"Yeah." He laughed heartily.

"You sure know how to pick 'em Kane. She ever teleported 'fore?"

"Get us outside if you can."

"Sure. No problem. Drop me a letter Kane, we should go hunting soon." He clasped her arm but she gave no response. The next thing I know is I'm doubled over trying damn hard not to spill all I got over the stone pathway.

"Do what you have to. You run, I will kill you. I'm not searching for you again, and don't give me the 'but-I'm-a-slayer' bullshit. I'll be inside waiting, join me."

I sank to my haunches and she went through the old wooden door. The nausea left me pretty quick. The whole teleporting thing was a very interesting experience. The view was… extraordinary; the building she walked into must have been a hundred years old. Old stone and wooden beams, that was all on my left. On my right was a four foot crumbling wall made of stones around the size of basketballs. The road that stretched ahead of me was also stone with overgrown weeds and grass filling the gaps, large tree branches hung over me and blocked the sunlight. I turned around, and saw pretty much the same thing. There were a few other buildings, but they were at least thirty feet down the road.

I closed my eyes, taking in the new scents of the road and figured I'd try not running. My hand pushed the heavy door open; the room I walked into was a back-pantry, had four kegs and hundreds of old, dusty bottles on the shelves. I went through the opposite door, and found myself in a narrow hallway. She was leaning against the wall smiling a little bit.

"Thank you for not running. I would have-"

"What's your goddamn name?" I cut her off, she had talked enough. Her little smiled didn't go away.

"Chasing you down again didn't seem like a good waste of my time, I have a failing business to watch yah know."

"Stop talking. God."

"Now that isn't my name, you sometimes just need to listen. My name has already been mentioned."

"Kane."

"That's what you can call me. I'll show you were you will be sleeping tonight. I'm definitely too tired to discuss your future plans right now." Coulda fooled me. "I picked up your duffel from the first bar you landed at, washed your clothes, and didn't touch anything else. I also found your knife, but you don't get that back tonight, alright? Good! So, we go through the managers' office and up those creaky stairs." I followed her, she moved slow but fluidly not rushing to get there, there was no rush. Nothing was going to change if we walked fast or slow, she moved at a pace where things seemed to work. When she walked the world seemed to slow around her, everything got caught in her wake and made the choice to slow-the-fuck-down and take it easy. When she talked, she was easy to follow never skipping a beat, never sounding like a pompous-ass, pretentious, egotistic, or retarded.

"Alright, go down the hall on your right, you room is through the only door down that way. The door is unlocked, and the room hasn't been used in quite a while. There will be dust on the furniture, I did change the sheets. Open the windows by the bed to let the room air out a bit more, and bathrooms' all yours… we have about forty-five minutes of hot water but don't worry about that too much." She smiled kindly, her eyes had softened since her 'demand' in that alleyway, and her voice had become more angelic. "My room is straight ahead here, if you need something, ask. See you tomorrow, Faith."

She left me standing at the top of the stairs; she had turned her back to me. Flashes of me running at her and using her own sword against her ran through my mind. I pushed them away and touched my hair, what hair I could find. It was mostly mud, I grimaced. Fuck, no wonder Gerry had given me a strange look. A long shower was exactly what I needed; it also showed me how much of a beating I had allowed myself to take over the last three weeks. No major injuries other than a seriously twisted knee and wrist, both of which got wrapped in the bandages she had left for me.