The two girls stared at each other for a long minute until Buffy broke the silence.
"So where're you from," she asked, leaning back on the mattress as she swung her legs under her body.
"Little shithole town south of Boston," Faith replied. "You?"
"Sunnydale, California."
"Pretty far away ain't it?" Faith raised her left eyebrow; no way was this girl going to last more then a week in the City.
Buffy shrugged, "I guess."
Turning her attention away from Faith's intense stare, Buffy looked around the room.
"So when did you get here," she asked.
"Yesterday morning," Faith said. "Didn't think my piece of junk Oldsmobile would make it this far."
Buffy raised her eyebrows in surprise, "no one took you?"
If she'd lived close enough, Joyce Summers would have been moving her daughter in herself. But since it would have been ridiculous to drive across the country, Joyce had reluctantly let Buffy come to the City by herself.
"Naw. Just me." To accentuate her point, Faith cracked her gum, waiting to see how Miss California Sunshine reacted to that.
Instead of leaning closer and prying for juicy gossip or delicious scandals, Buffy just nodded.
"Gotcha," she said with a slight nod of her head.
The room fell back into silence until Buffy looked over at Faith. "So the two singles are still open," she asked, desperate for something to talk about.
"Yup. I figured it be easier to just dump all my stuff in here rather then have everything all over the place. Guess you can pick your favorite room and then the other chick can just drop her crap in the other."
Buffy nodded. "So the fourth girl, she isn't coming?"
"Nope. Chickened out at the last minute. Can't say I blame her though, the City's gotta be rough for small towners."
Raising one perfect arched eyebrow, Buffy leaned forward. Her competitive drives snapped into gear at Faith's overly casual tone. She'd just had the longest day of her life and was in no mood to deal with someone who thought they knew everything about her after five minutes.
"Small towners," she repeated, her voice thick with sarcasm.
Faith nodded, her brown eyes staring intently at Buffy, wondering what kind of backbone the walking talking Barbie across from her actually had.
"Like me?"
The brunette smirked, "if the shoe fits."
Buffy's cheeks flushed and as much as the calming voice of her mother was telling her to relax and let it go, the emotionally wrung out part of her that had hassled airport security and obnoxious people all day took over.
"Let me tell you something, Faith, I have no intention of packing up and going home. You might be street-smart but I've been dreaming of being here for as long as I can remember."
Buffy paused for effect, lifting her chin with her best uber-bitch scowl. "Don't try to intimidate me, because it isn't going to work. You wanna see bitchy, I wrote the book."
After a long moment of silence, Faith burst out laughing. She slapped her denim-covered thighs in amusement.
Buffy's forehead wrinkled in confusion and she tipped her head to the side. Faith either had really thick skin or was just plain crazy, she thought apprehensively.
Wiping tears from her eyes, Faith swung her legs off the bed and onto the floor. She sauntered across the room and flopped down across from Buffy, crossing her legs under her body on the lumpy mattress.
"B, I think we're going to get along fine."
Buffy's eyes widened as her new roommate continued. "Didn't know what to expect with you looking like something out of a J. Crew catalog. Thought you had to be mental, walking around like that. Just had to find out."
Slowly a smile crept across Buffy's lips; Faith was nothing like the people she'd known in high school but as a roommate she didn't seem that bad.
Three hours later Buffy pushed the half-open box across her floor, grimacing as the contents spilled onto the floor. "Dammit to hell," she swore, stepping over the pile of books with glossy covers with titles like London, Venice and Paris.
After retrieving her boxes from the mailroom downstairs, she'd starting unpacking and already a small pile of empty boxes was sitting in the hallway. Hopping around the pile of novels resting against the crumpled plastic bag that had held her comforter, Buffy maneuvered her way over towards her desk.
Her laptop was still closed since she hadn't found the cables to connect everything together. All the books she'd brought from home had been stacked on her desk, until they decided to take a swan dive onto the floor, leaving her photography books in a heap.
Currently the three enormous duffel bags with the contents of her closets inside were wedged underneath her bed, right beside the box of shower supplies and a messy pile of shoes.
"You alright, B," Faith asked, leaning against the doorframe, an amused half-smile on her face.
Startled, Buffy yelped and spun around to face her roommate, in the process jarring the box with her sheets inside. The canary yellow sheets fell to the floor, followed by a battered stuffed pig.
"Dammit," Buffy mumbled, pushing her hair out of her face.
She smiled in Faith's direction, giggling self-conciously. "Been better," she admitted.
"Want a hand," the brunette asked, stepping into the room.
"Are you done already," Buffy asked in disbelief.
"Hell no, just got tired of looking all my stuff."
Buffy pointed at the heap of books at her roommate's feet, "if you really want to be helpful, those need to go somewhere other then the floor."
"Up here okay," Faith asked, gesturing to a shelf opposite the bed.
"Sure."
Faith knelt down and picked up a few of the texts. She picked up one book after another, flipping over any that had an interesting title.
"You read all these," she asked in disbelief.
"Yeah," Buffy said as if it was the most natural thing in the world. "Why?"
Faith shrugged, "Dunno, thought people got books when they came to college. Didn't know anyone actually brought their own."
Blushing fiery red, Buffy focused on unpacking the box with her shampoo and other toiletries. So much for a good first impression, she thought ruefully.
Instead of looking at her like she was bonafide dork, Faith continued to stack the books. "It's cool," she said simply, annoyed at herself for sounding so dense.
After putting the books in three short piles, Faith plopped down on Buffy's bed. "So let me guess, English major," she asked teasingly.
Buffy shook her head, "journalism. Photojournalism actually."
"Explains the forty pounds of books," Faith responded.
The two girls giggled in unison and Buffy ducked her head in mock shame.
"I'm a self-proclaimed dork," she sighed, which only caused Faith to laugh even louder.
"Don't worry about it hun," the brunette said, lacing her fingers behind her head. "I'm not into writing. Music's more my thing."
"That's neat," Buffy said, genuinely interested. Her forehead wrinkled when instead of finding her picture frames, she encountered video tapes. "Pass me that box," she requested, smiling gratefully when Faith pushed the dented cardboard box across the carpet.
"So you're a music major," she asked after several moments of silence and Faith shook her head.
"Theater," she corrected, "can't play an instrument to save my life."
"Very cool," Buffy said, a triumphant smile on her face, the missing cables clutched in her hand.
Before she could do a victory dance, a hesitant voice broke the stillness of the apartment.
"Hello? Is anyone here?"
"Yeah," Buffy and Faith called in unison.
Dropping the cables onto her desk, Buffy followed Faith out of the room, ready to greet their new suitemate.
When they walked into the living room, a slender brunette with thin glasses was dragging two heavy boxes across the carpeted floor. Before any of the girls could introduce themselves, the new girl turned back towards the doorway.
"There's plenty of room for the rest of them Charles," she called.
Stepping around the pile of boxes and bags that had magically appeared on the floor, she pushed her glasses higher up on her nose.
"Hi," she squeaked out with a little wave. "I'm Fred."
Buffy smiled back, "I'm Buffy."
"Faith," the New Englander said with another pop of her gum.
The three girls stared at each other for a moment before Buffy broke the silence. "Do you need a hand with all that stuff?"
Fred shook her head, "that's okay." Both Buffy and Faith looked at her in disbelief and Fred giggled. She gestured behind her to the tall man who was currently trying to catch his breath by leaning against the small dolly filled with cardboard boxes.
"This is my boyfriend, Charles."
"The resident pack mule," he corrected, "but everyone calls me Gunn."
Faith chuckled, openly gawking at him. He was easily the most handsome man she'd seen since driving into the city. Gunn was tall with deep brown eyes, high cheekbones and skin that reminded her of coffee.
Licking her lips, Faith took a step closer to the door.
Gunn let out a loud groan as he bent down to pick up one of the boxes that had been dropped in favor of introductions. "Only twenty more trips to go," he grumbled, his voice filled with laughter.
Walking down the hall, he grunted as the rectangular box caught on the edge of the dividing wall between the living room and the hallway.
"Fred, I swear you packed boulders in here," he complained. She just giggled in response.
"Oh stop complaining," she teased him, sounding nothing like the shy girl who'd practically whispered her name to Buffy and Faith. "You packed more then me."
Turning back towards her suitemates, Fred pulled on one of her long brown pigtails.
"Where should I put my stuff," she asked, before her boyfriend got too far down the tiny hallway.
"Second door on the right," Faith replied without taking her eyes off Gunn's ass.
Buffy smacked her lightly on the arm and Faith turned back towards the conversation. Fred was mumbling something about a few more trips as she picked up another one of the boxes.
Shrugging her shoulders, Buffy picked up two of the shopping bags in one hand and grabbed the long mirror in the other. Anything was better then unpacking all of her stuff. Complaining about annoyingly helpful people, Faith snatched more bags and followed the small line of people down to Fred's room.