Part 3

Buffy put her car into park and glanced down at her watch; 4.15pm so Faith should be up. She paused to listen and sure enough a series of splashes could be heard from the pool area. Returning to an empty house used to be the worst part of every day, closely followed by waking up in an empty house. Her father, Hank, seemed to make a point of constantly being away on business and when he was in LA he spent most of his time with a series of girlfriends barely older than his daughter. Her grandmother, who lived in Florida, assured Buffy that Hank had been deeply in love with her mother and his lack of visible affection for his daughter might be due to how like her mother she increasingly looked. That hadn't comforted the lonely 10 year old who had never known her mother and saw the housekeeper more than her father, and it didn't abate the resentment of the now 19 year old woman.

Buffy had met Faith at the start of Senior year. It had been four months since the Parker debacle, and she had decided a three-day lecture in Boston on 'The Archaeology of Buddhism in Tibet,' was a far more interesting prospect than the unbearable tedium of resuming classes and the pain of trying to avoid her ex. She'd emerged from the conference centre at midday to find a dark-haired teen starring intently at her rented C-Class Mercedes convertible.

"Pretty cute huh?" She'd commented, coming up to stand beside the girl. Faith had shrugged, immediately affecting an air of disinterest.

"2.6 litre tank with a 168 horse power engine? It probably eats gas like a starving child and overheats if you hit 90."

Buffy'd raised a bemused eyebrow, somebody knew about cars. "Want to take her for a spin?" She'd held out the car keys before her brain had a chance to protest. It wasn't a big deal, handing a $15,000 car over to a complete stranger; she could have bought a couple of the vehicles and still had room to manoeuvre within her monthly allowance. Maybe it had been a test, Buffy wasn't certain; she'd just had a feeling about the girl.

Faith had looked at her, thrown for a second, trying to work out the catch. Then deciding to seize the opportunity before it passed, she'd casually reached out for the offered keys.

"Take your time, I'm off in search of food," Buffy had announced turning away. "Leave the keys with the desk," she'd added, using a thumb to indicate the building behind her; then as an after-thought she'd turned back and extended a hand, "Buffy Summers."

Faith barely paused thus time, "Faith," she replied taking the proffered hand.

When Buffy returned from lunch the car was back, Faith perched on the hood, the keys flipping casually from hand to hand.

"Verdict?" Buffy had asked.

"Pretty sweet," Faith had conceded.

Buffy had nodded, then paused to run a critical eye over the girl before her. Her blue denim jeans were faded, not in that expensive, 'look, I've worn this article more than once,' style Buffy paid her favourite designers extra to provide, but in that way where the material begins to thin from multiple washings. They fit her 'slighter than it should be' frame like a new layer of skin, stopping at her hips and leaving a wide slice of skin exposed before the, also form-fitting, black cotton top began. The front of the top dipped low at the front leaving cleavage that Buffy had stopped dreaming about ever having by age 15, showing. Her face was made up with a few too many products, like a young girl raiding her mother's cosmetic's, but considering brown eyes, full, pouty lips and rich, untied, black hair meant she was too attractive to ever really ruin her appearance. The September weather was beginning to cool, and Buffy, unused to the New England temperatures and sporting a thick roll neck sweater, felt a shiver at Faith's lack of further clothing. The girl was probably cutting school, yet something about the ease with which she sat in the middle of downtown suggested she hadn't attended school in a while.

"D'you have plans this weekend?" For the second time that day Buffy spoke purely on instinct.

Faith's eyes had stopped considering the girl before her and immediately narrowed suspiciously. What did she expect; a strange girl would just let some street kid borrow the keys to her blinging ride without looking for something in return? Where had her senses gone?

She leaped lightly off the car and held the keys out, "hey, no thanks, I like my partners with a full side order of dick."

"You and me both," Buffy replied unoffended, "I'm not gay."

Faith shrugged slightly, but her expression remained blank, her arm extended; she had no interest in any further dialogue with this rich bitch. Faith had an excellent instinct for spotting trouble, anything she couldn't immediately classify as either safe or a threat she simply assumed was the former. This sun-drenched, Beverly Hills Bimbo clearly had more money than sense and fitted very neatly into the 'treat as possible threat' category.

Buffy raised a reassuring hand. "Hear me out for a second."

Faith rolled her eyes tiredly and allowed her arm to drift back to her side.

"I'm at this lecture on all the incredible things explorers have found in Tibet, and I'm thinking, 'why am I sitting here in Boston looking at pictures of Tibet?"

"You want me to go to Tibet with you?" Faith asked dubiously.

"You look like somebody who can handle themselves."

Faith's expression had remained unchanged but inside she'd given a mental shake of her head and wondered just how dumb she looked. Like some kid with a silver spoon stuck up her ass and enough money to buy a couple of dozen friends really required questionable company on a trip to Tibet. It was always the girls, and the innocuous, innocent rich ones you had to watch. There was a limit to the damage some skeezer, equally down on his luck, could do to you. But the girls didn't want your body – generally – and could just find it in themselves to hate you enough to do you some serious damage. As for the rich kids slumming it for laughs, she'd heard enough stories to know you could scream 'fire' all you wanted and all the police would do was lock your ass up. She didn't know what this kid's game was and she had less than no interest in finding out.

"No, thanks," she repeated again, and held out the keys.

Buffy accepted them back with a shrug, then reached in a back pocket to pull out a card. "Fine, I guess there's more than enough to do in Boston. But if you change your mind give me a call, I'm betting it's gonnna be pretty wicked."

Faith had deliberately crossed her arms leaving Buffy to shrug again and tuck the card into the window of her car before turning and heading back into the conference building.

Faith didn't know why she'd taken the card, but by the middle of the week, when the offer began to burn a hole in her pocket, she definitely wished she hadn't. It was such a strange offer and it irked her not being able to work out the angle. Was the whole thing a joke, some kid messing with her mind? But Faith was pretty good at reading people; this kid was far from home, at some talk instead of her leafy private school, and she seemed just as daring as she was unhappy. There was definitely stuff going on with her. Or maybe there was some Tibetan chain gang and the kid made her money selling society's riff-raff into it, after all, who'd miss her?

Faith's instinct for self-preservation warned her that nothing good came without a price, but she'd never been one to shy away from danger. And Tibet? She didn't even know where the hell that was on the map, but it sounded pretty damn far from South Boston, and that was an undisputable plus. She'd deliberated and procrastinated before finally picking up the phone and calling to say, "I don't have a passport." Maybe not but it appeared money could make those kind of things appear too.

Tibet had been great fun; not chocolates and midnight girly confessions fun, but speeding jeeps across vast empty plains, getting drunk with the locals and scaling dangerous mountain ranges fun. Buffy discovered what she'd sensed upon first meeting Faith; the girl was genuine: she didn't sugar coat anything, didn't try to cheer her up or get inside her head, didn't really care about anything beyond herself and her pursuit of a good time. Faith in turn recognised a kindred spirit, somebody as lost as she was. On the plane journey home Buffy had asked Faith to be her personal assistant, on call for such expeditions. Faith had looked curiously at this girl with more money than any single person should rightfully have and felt no qualms about helping her spend it, agreeing almost instantly.

Buffy rounded the corner to the pool in time to see Faith's dark head dip into the sky blue water, closely followed by her feet as she turned for another lap. Approaching the edge Buffy rolled up her jeans and sat at the poolside, letting her feet sink into the cooling water. Five laps later and Faith finally stopped, drifting leisurely over to the edge.

"So Red have anything to add beyond, 'it's an old rock?"

Buffy laughed, "You know Willow, she had a lot to add, but the only thing we need to know is that there are two more."

"Which Angel already told you."

"Yes"

"But Red doesn't know where?"

"No."

"Right. You need to fire that girl, she's seriously slacking."

"Yeah, cos I pay her to spend her life in that lab," Buffy good naturedly replied. She chewed on a nail, looked up at the blue expanse of sky and wondered what to do on such a fine Californian day.

"We have three options," Faith announced, Buffy didn't even bother to be surprised, when it came to short attention spans and the on-going quest for adventure their minds tended to run in tangent. That and Willow said the nail thing was a dead give-away. "Option 1: we scope out the action on the Californian radar, check out if there are any cool frat parties going on. But since you're still avoiding that Douche Bag Parker and hating those 'so what are you doing now Buffy?' questions I'm thinking," she screwed up an imaginary sheet of paper and threw it over her shoulder. "Option 2: we go to New York, where we know nobody, and you flash your platinum and that arrogant smile that says 'I could buy this place from beneath you,' and get us into cool parties. Or..." she paused to allow the last idea to settle, "we go to Venice and check out your boo."

Buffy rolled her eyes at the nickname. "He doesn't even like me."

"Yeah, you said." Faith leaned back into the water and began a leisurely back stroke.

Buffy starred at the ripples rolling out from her friend and swiftly weighed up the alternatives. California got boring really fast and the 24 hours they'd been back was more than enough. New York was definitely tempting, contrary to Faith's words, they usually ended up at small, exclusive clubs where they were only admitted because Faith had a way with words that fake ID's just couldn't manage. But New York was how Spike had happened the previous summer and Buffy wasn't in the mood for flirting and alcohol. That left Venice. Despite Willow's lack of a response, October really was a great time of year to see the City on Water. She wondered if Angel would already be there and her heart leaped at the thought. Damn Willow and her annoying perceptiveness. She was smitten and if that guy wasn't danger with a capital 'D' then she'd start using the full Elisabeth Anne Summers as her name. But Venice also meant adventure; she and Faith would be in a position to follow up on any clues or ideas Willow had. Angel was really only a tiny part of her desire to go to Italy. Miniscule even.

"Venice!" she called out, standing up decisively. "I'll go book tickets."