Chapter 6

The Pack

You can't remember how you got out from The Master's Lair. You backtrack as best you could, gripping the battleaxe so tightly it has finger impressions in the metal beneath the leather bindings. Tomb after tomb you search. No hidden doors. None, that you can figure out anyway.

Kennedy says nothing to you all day. Makes no eye contact during class. She is not at your table for lunch. The tone in the cafeteria is subdued. At least Amy sits with you.

"Word is Jesse, Xander and Willow are all missing." she whispers. You don't know Jesse. Don't care. Harris was just another asshole white trash guy, driven by his dick. Odds are Jesse was too. Amy has noticed your distance, places a hand on yours. "She just needs time."

You have no idea what you need.

Cheer practice is in the gym this evening. Buffy is showing off her shoes to Cordelia, who seems to approve. They converse for a while, using a complex set of hand gestures to describe the finer points. You never knew the subject of shoes was so in depth. Harmony Kendall sits spellbound by the two. You tie your hair back in a loose ponytail and begin to warm up. Careful to go slow, you stretch your back out, feeling the tug of the long scars with each satisfying pop. Buffy notices you and beckons you over.

"Hey Cordy, this is the girl I was telling you about. Faith. Oh, oh… Did you see her tumbling at the tryouts?" Buffy says excitedly, before her face contorts in embarrassment. "Sorry Cor. Totally forgot. My bad."

Cordelia's eyes seem to have recovered just fine. She looks you over. Not in the least bit disapproving or malicious, just sizing you up. No, Queen Cordelia Chase is just trying to figure out how she will file you in her hierarchy. Her eyes hold on your tattoo before returning to your face.

"You're Kennedy's sister, right?" Cordelia says.

"In a way." you shrug.

"Rupert Giles adopted them both." Harmony proclaims. "isn't he just… so kind?"

"She saved my life. Did she tell you?" No. That's news to you. "When I had that ooky assed weird eye thing happen, I couldn't see jack. I would have been roadkill but for her."

"Yeah, that's Ken. She's a real hero." you say. Saved Amber. Saved Cordelia. Saved Buffy. Saved Amy. Saved you.

Cordelia seems to have finished her appraisal, a cat like grin slowly spreads across her face. in the ballpark of a warm smile. She glances at Buffy who smiles back.

"You thinking what I am Summers?"

Oh no.

"Makeover." the blonde nods.

Oh, hell no.

You have no idea how exactly you end up agreeing to it all, not a clue.

But, somehow, here you are, sitting in Buffy Summer's bedroom chair, surrounded by the full pack of somewhat drunken Cordettes in full gossip mode.

Buffy is smearing something on your face, which if you didn't know better was Bezoar Slime, and humming happily to some candy sweet pop song as she does so.

Her breath is hot on your neck and she smells of vanilla and vodka.

Harmony is aping one of the jocks who asked her to the dance. Maybe it's the booze, but you find her performance hilarious. And Buffys eyes are not blue. They are hazel green.

"So Faith." Cordelia says, tilting her head in an almost predatory way. "Care to fill us all in on your boy sitch?" All eyes are on you. "Spill, missy." You snort and sip from your plastic cup.

"Oh come on Faith" Buffy grins, dabbing at your face. "There must be someone you have your eye on."

You swallow the sour liquid. You don't think now would be a good time to discuss the finer points of your love life. The drunken screws in Boston alleyways, tucked away behind some dumpster or other. Hot flesh seeking hot flesh in the bitterly cold night air. Some faceless guy trying appease your Slay lust but never quite quenching it.

Huh.

You haven't done that in months. Not since Giles took you in.

"Picking from a big menu there Faith?" Shanice said. The room giggled.

"Maybe she's a lesbian, like her sister." Anya said flatly. "What? She is. Everyone knows that, right?"

Cordelia scowled at the newcomer. It was a rule that Kennedy was off limits. Regardless of her rumored deviancy. You clear your throat.

"Thing is, I had a string of lousy boyfriends back in Boston. Promised myself when I got here I would take my time, yunno? Find someone who would… treat me as I deserve."

Maybe they did.

The Cordettes seem satisfied with the answer; sage nods and sympathetic smiles. Anya sits up quickly.

"What did these boys do to you exactly?" she said, her tone overly eager. "Men are the worst. I want details." Again, a withering stare from Cordelia made her back off. Buffy takes the opportunity to swivel your chair to face her.

"I'm not done with you yet." she grins, holding some tweezers. You shift awkwardly. "Relax. I promise I won't hurt you."

Cordelia drives the rest of girls home in her flashy car. Good. It saves you having to feel the guilt of letting them walk home in the dark unprotected.

But hell, you won't let that harsh your buzz. Not tonight. Your skin feels amazing against the night air, brand new beach curls bobbling about your face as you stride. All this courtesy of Buffy Summer's expert hand. You smile and flip your house keys over lightly on the ring.

Revello Drive is only a few blocks from main street, so you drop by The Espresso Pump for a pre-slay pick me up. A young woman sits playing guitar for a enraptured audience, her voice honest and soothing. You nestle into a corner and take your time pulling apart your bearclaw, sipping extra shot coffee and think about warm hands ghosting over your face and neck.

The night is calling. Tugging at you towards the graveyards.

You drink your coffee down.

It is time to hunt.