She could feel the wound in her neck. Earlier, when she'd first woken up, all the pain had melded into one giant blob. Once she was given the chance to focus, she could feel the puncture wound on her neck, a pounding pain that seemed to pulsate, like an alien parasite that had taken up refuge in her body. Was that being too dramatic? No, probably not, though she wouldn't go spewing her thoughts all over the others.

After half an hour of lying completely still on the sofa, Faith reluctantly sat up. Her stomach was complaining violently - as it had every right to, if she hadn't eaten since she'd been knocked out - and she craved food. Didn't matter what, she wasn't exactly fussy, but she needed something. Once she'd had her fair share of calories, she'd be able to put her mind back on track. What track it was that she wanted her mind on was a mystery, but at least she'd be able to concentrate once she'd had some food.

Truth was, she didn't know what to think anymore. Not that she had ever shown any examples of extremely level-headedness in her past - she'd end up in prison because of her lack of thinking - but she'd always had her basic opinions. She'd always know what she wanted to think, how she wanted to act, how she wanted to speak. But, at this moment, she was completely lost, and it scared her.

Life used to be so simple for her. Eat, sleep, train, slay. Those had been the words she'd lived by. Sure, she'd managed to fit a few night clubs and dead-beat boyfriends in around her hour key-words, but things had been pretty basic for her. And she'd liked it simple, most of the time. Liked not having to answer to anyone, liked being in charge of the power she possessed, liked the warm buzz she got when she staked a vampire and saw the dust float away.

Of course, all the simplicity faded away when she'd accidentally staked the deputy mayor. Or was it before that? When she'd first met B, the one person she'd never been able to lie up to? When her watcher had been murdered by Kakistos? When she became the slayer in the first place? Faith didn't know, but at some point her life had gotten way too complicated, and she'd ended up here.

Here was a mansion, outside of sunny San Francisco, that was currently home to the Order. Faith still couldn't remember why, exactly, she'd agreed to join Andrew' little gang of freaks. It made no sense whatsoever; it was so unlike her, it was laughable. She wasn't the sort who played well with others, after all. And yet, here she was, living with and fighting alongside her own personal gang of Scoobies. But, her 'friends' were basically strangers, weren't they? She didn't know anything about them. Didn't know the names of Clark's parents, didn't know where Peter went to school, didn't know why the hell Jack dressed like a pirate and she didn't know why any of them had agreed to this in the first place.

Let's be honest, who in their right mind wakes up one morning and just decides to join an evil-fighting organisation? Didn't Clark have a school to attend? Didn't peter have a city to save? Didn't Logan have...that X-men group to annoy? Her point was; they all had commitments elsewhere. Why on God's earth were they all here, planning on taking on a demonic army, instead of dealing with their responsibilities?

As much as Faith hated to admit it, she did have a bunch of responsibilities to take care of. Right up at the top of the list was her slaying, which she had been really neglecting recently. Sure, with all the legions of newly-activated slayers, itching for a fight, she wasn't strictly need, but the newbie slayers were just another responsibility she had to think about. Someone experienced needed to show them the ropes, and seeing as Buffy was away in Rome, she was pretty much the only person available for the job.

Faith bit into a piece of heavily buttered toast as she sat down at the kitchen table. Really, what was she doing here? There was so much more important stuff to take care of elsewhere. The others could stay and fight armies, if they wanted, but she had an elsewhere to be. People to do, demons to slay; Jesus, when was she going to get tired of saying that? It was the new phrase that was always on her lips. Something 'cool' to say when her mind went blank. 'Want, have, take,', 'five by five'...seemed like she always had to have a meaningless jumble of words to hand. If she just picked a few words completely at random, and ran them together, she doubted if anyone would notice that she wasn't making sense.

A hand reached out of nowhere, heading towards her face, her body, her neck. She wrapped her own hand around the wrist, and yanked as hard as she could, pulling the person over her shoulder and onto the table. Instinct, she guessed; slayer within her wanted to stop flat anyone who managed to sneak up on her right now. Even if that person was one of the good guys. Even if that person was in the Order. Even if that person was Logan. Hey, 'least you didn't stake him, right? That's an improvement.

"Easy, Princess, it's just me." Logan didn't even seem scared, despite the fact that she'd just came within two inches of kicking the shit out of him. Even with healing powers like Logan's, being knocked around by a slayer was going to hurt. The fact that he was just lying there just pissed Faith off further. He could have at least bothered to show some emotion - any emotion, she didn't care which one - instead of just gazing up at her with eyes she could begin to read. He was so damn infuriating, Faith wasn't sure whether she wanted to punch his lights out or take off out of the house.

In the end, after a few moments when neither of them moved or spoke, Faith took a step backwards, wondering how she was going to explain this. After all, when you were feeling fine you didn't go around pinning random people, did you? As such, Logan was going to want to know what was going on. And Faith really didn't know, so how was she supposed to explain it to him?

She turned away from him, trying to gather her thoughts and work out how she would explain. If she was going to explain; if he didn't ask, she wasn't going to offer up any information. Faith wasn't the care-and-share type. The less people you let in, the less you got hurt. She really didn't need to let herself get hurt anymore. So, if Logan didn't ask specifically for answer, she wasn't going to hive him any.

It took Logan a few drawn-out moments to say anything, and Faith wished she knew what he was thinking. How could his face be so blank? There wasn't even a hint of his thoughts shown on his face, which was unnerving. Especially in someone like Logan; Faith didn't think that he was the type of guy who would bottle up his feelings.

"You want to talk about it?" There! Finally, something. Sure, not much, but there were words, and words were usually good. Better than silence anyway. Silence made her think, made her drag up unpleasant thoughts. Faith always tried to fill in silences. But now? Logan's question hinted that he wasn't her to talk about 'it' a- about how she'd been caught out, about how a vampire had tasted her blood, about the ugly, pulsating puncture she could feel on her neck - but she didn't think she could. He wouldn't understand. No one but a slayer would.

It wasn't the first time she'd been bitten. There was that one time, with Angelus...but that had been different. It had been part of Wesley's plan, and she'd been ready for it. This time, she hadn't been expecting fangs on her neck. She'd been prepared for the cuts, the bruises, the dull ache in her muscles, and she'd known that it would be a difficult fight. Getting drained by some nameless vampire? That I she hadn't been ready for.

Logan seemed to have given up on getting an answer, turning around and beginning to clear up the broken plate and mashed toast from the table - apparent, throwing a person on top of china and toast wasn't a good idea. Faith took a few steps around the table, and sat down in the chair facing him. She wanted to talked, needed to spill out some of her thoughts before she went completely insane, but what could she say? She'd never talked to anyone but Angel before, and with Angel, things had been different. He was right where she was; trying to atone. They understood each other. But Logan? He'd never understand the first thing about her.

But, wasn't that the whole point of talking? Sharing thoughts, experiences, sob-stories, until you understood each other? Faith wouldn't know. "Look, Logan, I'm not exactly great with all the heart-to-heart stuff, so how 'bout you start us off?" She spoke quickly, but tried not to sound nervous; but dogs could smell fear, couldn't they? Or was that bears? Either way, it would make sense for someone with super-human sense - like, for instance, Logan - to be able to smell fear. Not that it really matter. Wasn't as though she was afraid.

At Logan's blank look, she gazed down at the table cloth - white, of course, to fit in with the rest of this goddamn house - and began picking a hole in the material. Was it absolutely essential for him to make this so difficult? Probably, so it was best not to argue. Just get on with the elaborating. "What? Don't stare at me like I'm some defective nut. You think I'm going to spill my deepest, darkest thoughts if you don't make with the spilling yourself?"

The expression on Logan's face was definitely amused, though she couldn't see what was so funny. A raised eyebrow and slightly curled fist were all it took to stop the smirk and get him to sit down. A year or two previously, and Logan's face would have been seriously deformed merely for daring to smile while she was trying to be serious. Still, she had those 'violent tendencies' under control anger management, that's what the woman had called those classes in prison.

"So,...what'd you want to know?" And that was it; one simple question, and then they managed to talk for a few hours straight. Logan lit a cigar, and told her more about the 'x-men', the group of mutants he'd been involved with before the Order. After hearing about it, and hearing about the times they'd averted pretty much the complete annihilation of the human race, Faith couldn't help but wonder if he'd actually be doing more good up in New York. Sounded like the mutants needed him more than they did.

Faith helped herself to some beer when it was her turn to talk, as well as a large chunk of Andrew's labelled ice-cream, while telling him that the wound just felt dirty; she felt like she was polluted, somehow. And he just nodded, while she ranted, and it was kinda like therapy. Only without the ink-blots and shrinks.

Eventually, the conversation wound around to safer topics - swapping stories and apocalypses - and Andrew and Peter joined them around the kitchen table. It was weird, to say the least, but it felt good. Relaxing. Just for a few hours, Faith could indulge herself and pretend things were alright, which they weren't, and that she was ok, which she wasn't. She felt almost normal, something she hadn't had in a long time.

It was late in the afternoon by the time she realised that, firstly, she hadn't showered in three days, secondly, she was still starving and, thirdly, she was wearing the same clothes she'd worn as she'd walked into that warehouse. As such, she wasn't overly comfortable, and thought that something needed to be done about that. Faith quickly excused herself and headed towards her room.

The shower was just what she'd needed to make her feel properly human again, though getting a good look at the cut in the mirror probably wasn't what the doctor order. It looked nasty - not that she'd been expecting something pretty and out-lined in roses. But, still, this was ugly, even by her definition of the word. At least it wasn't infected; that would have been more than she could handle.

But once she'd washed and put some clean clothes on, she began to feel a little more human. A little more normal. Weird was a new top and some soap could do to a girl. Faith stared at her reflection for a little longer than she needed to, her eyes lingering on the red smudge on her neck. It stuck out violently, but there was no way of covering it up. Just leave it a few days - slayer healing powers would have it cleared away in no time. Somehow, that didn't make her feel any better about it.

She fell asleep completely by accident, after slumping onto the bed once she'd emerged from the bathroom. It was amazing how tired three full days of sleep could make you. At least she didn't ream; she'd she been in her coma, she had dreams. Vivid, frightening and downright awful dreams. Full of images that could still haunt her if she gave them the chance.

When she woke up several hours had gone by without her noticing. The clock behind her claimed it was 9 o'clock in the evening, but that couldn't be right. She'd not slept for that long, had she? "Faith, will you please meet the others in the training rooms?" Charlie didn't sound annoyed - Faith didn't think it was possible for him to sound annoyed - but...exasperated would probably cover it. He'd probably been asking after her for ages now.

Faith groaned as she sat up, but hurriedly found some shoes and began to make her way downstairs. Even though Charlie was fairly easy going, she guessed he was the type who appreciated punctuality. So, despite the fact that her head was still pounding, she forced herself to rush down and attend the meeting.

As she entered the training room, everyone's eyes switched to her, and from the expressions on their faces, she gathered they'd been waiting for more than just five minutes. Logan was slumped up against a wall looking cheery as ever, and as faith was feeling pretty much the same way, she sat down beside him. Well, beside him was a bit of an exaggeration. He wasn't exactly the sort of person you could get cosy with, so she sat down as close as awkwardness allowed.

"Have I missed anything?" She asked, but it was fairly obvious that she hadn't. Everyone was just standing around looking thoroughly bored, and if there'd been anything important happening there would probably have been an anxious buzz in the air. As such, she guessed that Charlie was just going to give them some nice motivational speeches, and then order them to do a few hundred hours of training.

Though, to be fair, Faith thought she probably should do some more training. What with being asleep for 3 days and being bitten and all, she was a bit out of practice. And she was one member of the group who really needed to practice. She didn't have any special metal claws or webs. When it came down to it, she didn't have a cool, slightly kinky whip like Indy, or even a sword like the one Jack lunged drunkenly at people with. Sometimes Faith didn't know why she was here. They had obviously managed fine without her for the past few days, and it wasn't as if she had any major part in The Order. Hell, even Andrew had more purpose than her. Okay, maybe she wasn't that useless. Or annoying. But, still, she felt out of place.

Of course, the gender issue didn't help matters either; one woman, giant group of men. No wonder she felt out of place. She was broken out of her thoughts - Logan never had given her an answer - when Charlie cleared his throat before beginning to talk. "Well, now everyone's here, we can get started."

"As you are all aware, the demons are forming an army." Gee, tell me something I don't know, Faith thought sarcastically. They were ambushed in a warehouse by a massive bunch of demons, beaten half to death, and in her case, bitten by vampires, and Charlie chose now to tell them that a demon army was being created. Faith had to hand it to him, he stated the obvious almost as much as Dorian. In her experience, people who stated the obvious were too stupid to think of anything else to say. Having thought this, she doubted Charlie was stupid. He was the one who had come up with the big idea to get them all together in this big house and fight the baddies as a team. So why didn't he just get on with his speech?

She stared down at her hands as he carried on talking, only half-listening to what he was saying. She'd heard most of it before, just not from him. It was the usual stuff - that even though the enemy was strong, they were stronger, how they all had a combined destiny, how they had to work together to succeed - but it sounded even more meaningless when Charlie was saying it. What did he know? All he seemed to do was send them head-first into fights they couldn't win, but he never actually got down to the hand-to-hand himself.

"Unfortunately, at the moment my resources appear to have dried up, so I don't actually have a great deal of information on our enemy." Faith leaned her head back against the wall, closing her eyes as she listened. Things seemed pretty dire, but they always did, didn't they? When they'd been fighting the First, they'd known squat about it, but they'd won anyway. A fact-file about a demon army would be pretty easy to rustle up; wasn't as though they'd be able to lie low. Anybody with suitable connections would at least be able to find out where they were based. And, being a slayer, Faith had the right connections.

"I know a bunch of people. If there's something going on, they'll know about it." Faith stood up as she spoke, thinking that they'd be best to get started as soon as possible. Beating information out of people took longer than you'd think, though Faith thought it'd be pretty easy with all the man-power they had.