The Bronze

Faith scanned the crowd turnout at the Bronze with ill-concealed disappointment. She gulped down her shot glass and reclined comfortably on a leather brown settee, letting out an 'ah' of appreciation from the fiery liquid sliding down her throat. Colours gyrated all the way through the interior of the club. Trance music hummed from the speakers. She watched the barkeeper with mild interest as he served two male students.

A voice sliced through the noise like a snake's hiss. "Faaaaaaaith…"

Faith leant backwards to witness an upside down frown. Willow Rosenberg sat snug in a green pixie hood jumper, arms folded underneath her chest. Shocking red hair framed her pale face. "Am I going to have to tell Voirrey on you?"

Faith raised her empty shot glass in a mock salute. "Nah. Being good, promise. But can still check out dudes if I want, right?" She angled her head to include the figure seated next to Willow, "You agree, Blondie?"

"Gay and taken," Tara Maclay replied. "I d-don't really do the whole guy checking out stuff."

"Hey. Where's moral support when you need it?" Faith waved her glass indignantly.

"Faith, we are moral support," Willow grinned impishly, "We're in the business of making you squeaky clean."

"Make someone squeak in a minute," Faith grumbled. She stared with longing after the barkeeper before letting out a wicked chuckle. "Guess I'll be alone on the snap, crackle and pop tonight."

Tara rolled her eyes. Willow was a little slower on the uptake. "What do you… Oh." Her face matched the colour of her hair. Faith cackled raucously and arched herself upright. She loved getting the startled and embarrassed reaction out of the two girls. Well, she used to get a rise from the both of them, once upon a time. Tara seemed more resilient these days.

"So, It's been a heavy night, and I got the munchies. Say we grab a couple more drinks then crash at my place?" Without waiting for a reply, Faith swaggered over to the barkeeper, her attitude drawing more than a few curious gazes.

"Uh, sure? We kinda usually do, anyway...?" Willow said, confused. She flapped her hand. "Oh, oh, Faith, get me lemonade, please!"

Faith grinned. "On it."

Whilst Faith ordered another round of drinks, the entrance doors banged open. Four people entered, giggling and swaying under heavy influence. Faith reached out with her senses, making sure the new arrivals were not out for blood.

Her Inner Slayer made a sound like a buzzer going off. Human. Keep it down tonight. Try to avoid physical stuff.

Faith's hand touched the flesh above her hip. I'm fine. Five by five.

Oh? Your 'five by five' has taken a week to even start closing up. the Inner Slayer growled. Slayer healing ain't doing jack.

That bull demon dude had a pretty big knife. Gonna hurt a bit, right?

Demon barely even touched you. One little scratch and this is what happens? I'm telling you; that's some serious magical shit going on. Report it.

No. Faith's body tensed, teetering on edge. Her fists clenched into little balls. We all got enough on our plates. This won't do any good.

Voirrey will skin you alive when she finds out you've been hiding this from her. Actually, the whole gang will skin you alive.

Faith winced. Yes, Voirrey and the gang would bear down on her like some kind of huge, unstoppable avalanche. She lifted her hand as discreetly as possible from her side. The bandages there stopped people from suspecting as long as she covered up the tell-tale skin. She needed to replace them regularly. The tiny wound seeped constantly, and if she left it too long, it would soak through to the outer layer of clothes as well.

A couple of teenage boys, hardly more than school kids, glanced furtively as she walked back with the drinks, taking care not to collide into anyone. A mix of expressions cocktailed their faces: apprehension, expectation, fear. Faith didn't like witnessing the fear, or smelling it permeating the atmosphere like sour grapes. On more than one occasion, Faith found herself needing to beat and stake the non-living shit out of trespassing vamps in the Bronze, often in full public view. No help for it, sometimes. The demon population couldn't find it within themselves to lie low. They were just damn impolite like that.

"Faith. Why are you just standing there? I'm getting all thirsty."

Tara bobbed her head in tandem with Willow. "Don't forget to sit back down as well, sweetie."

"Right. Sure." Faith mechanically dunked the drinks down, and turned towards her previous space of occupation. "Shame Xan-Man ain't here. Could get him to haul us drinks instead."

"Um, I think he's currently… indisposed… you know? To use Giles speak," Willow said.

"With Anya," Tara added helpfully.

"Tare-baby, that's kind of what I meant with the whole 'indisposed' thing."

Faith flopped in-between the two girls, causing them to squeal and giggle and attempt to push her off. "My digs, now." She sprawled her legs over Willow's lap, and fidgeted a bit until she found a comfortable nook on Tara's shoulder, placing her left elbow tight against her side to protect the injury. She bumped her fingers on the table before passing along the drinks to the newly christened settee girls.

"Don't mind me."

"I do mind," Willow squeaked, squinting her emerald eyes.

Faith attempted swatting away the expression. "Faster you drink, sooner you're rid of me."

Willow started drinking. "I'm so holding you to that, Missy."

Faith blew a kiss and laughed.

"Uh, Faith?"

"Yeah?" Faith switched her attention to Tara, taking in the slightly flushed expression.

"Feeling nice but slightly awkward, h-here." Willow and Faith followed Tara's stare, right down her curvy body to the source of the problem.

"Oh." Faith removed the offending elbow from where it pressed against the blonde's inner thigh.

"Tare!" Willow exclaimed. She slapped Faith's black denim jeans. "And you! Stop corrupting my girlfriend! I'll have you know a few months ago she was sweet, and shy, and innocent."

Faith smirked. "Doubt that. But shouldn't complain, Red. Bet Blondie can take you for a pretty good spin." She wriggled her eyebrows. Willow spluttered, coughing on her drink. Faith knew Willow hated her smirk. She suspected anyone in their right mind would. She let it widen like a cat, dimples on full display as her friend turned slowly purple from the combination of a clogged up windpipe and sheer embarrassment.

"Faithy," Tara murmured into Faith's ear, "Stop teasing my girlfriend. It's n-not good for business."

"Sure, sure." Faith dutifully thumped Willow on the back, trying not to gasp in the process as her side wound twanged. It served as a nasty reminder she really wasn't the 100% girl image she wanted others to believe.

They all looked up to her, though. All the Scoobs; Voirrey as well. Faith couldn't understand why, but she wasn't going to let go of a good thing whilst it lasted. Without the Slayer empowering her, without Voirrey rescuing her from her original life, Faith knew she'd be a nothing. Dirt beneath people's feet. Anything but a human being worthy of other's respect.

She only distantly paid attention to the banter between Tara and Willow as she finished off her lemonade. They occasionally included her, but non-committal "Mmms" worked a treat. Tara absently stroked her hair.

"You have a scary frown on you," Willow commented.

Faith blinked. "Huh? Oh, yeah, well, I'm a scary person." She mimed clawing, letting out what she considered ferocious growls. Willow batted the "claws" away, grinning.

"Awww, you're just a widdle pussy cat. So cute."

"Ha. Got you to mention pussy." Faith's expression brightened. Both Willow and Tara glanced at each other, then back to Faith.

"Is there something you should be telling us, missy? Like any secret lesbian tendencies lurking under that man-eating exterior? 'Cause if there is, I'll have to put a public ban on contact between you and my girlfriend for safety measures."

Tara's eyebrows scrunched up in contemplation. "Well, she is s-sort of like the poster girl for bisexuality…"

Faith leered, sinously running a hand down the curves of her body. "What can I say? This bod turns even straight girls gay."

Willow giggled like a naughty child. "Out with it then. Poster girl or strictly… you know…"

"Dickly?" Faith finished for her. She mulled over the question. "Well... I like driving stick. Haven't tried the other side of the fence like you two, but damn, you girls make it look fun. May have to give it a swing myself sometime."

Faith waited for the inferno. Willow didn't disappoint. "You! You… you've watched us?"

"Heard, mostly." Faith shrugged, her face the picture of innocence. Tara giggled.

"Yeah, you do get pretty loud, Will."

"I do not! I'm quiet! I'm, I'm all meek as a lamb! Witness me being meek." A sudden suspicion seized Willow. "Wait. Wait a second. You said mostly. Why did you say mostly?"

Faith let her grin stretch into a maddening smirk. "That'd be telling."

Willow appeared mortified. "Oh Goddess, you couldn't have…"

Tara only giggled harder.

Faith's Home

Faith's house lay in the good side of town, a fairly respectable establishment fully funded by the council, mostly at Voirrey's persistent urging. They converted the lower basement into a training area, so Faith had space to practise the lessons Voirrey began when they both still lived in Boston.

Until Voirrey first found and told Faith to her face about being a Potential, Faith knew she had less than an admirable past. Boston remained a bad place to be in, when you lived in the an apartment with a drunk mother and absent father.

She twisted the key in the front door lock and pushed it open. She left her boots on the pile stacked against the wall, and hung her jacket on a silver hook nailed into the back of the door.

Willow flicked a few switches, illuminating the kitchen and lounge in dim yellow lights. She began rummaging in the cupboard under the stairs to pull out two sleeping bags. Tara made it her official duty to fetch snacks from the kitchen. Faith picked up a small, eloquently written note strewn on the dining table, with a flower vase clamping it in place. The flowers were forget-me-nots.

Faith,

I'll be staying over at Rupert's tonight. There's a matter of importance to be discussed, and it won't be something resolved with a quick phone call. I hope patrol wasn't too taxing - you've been appearing somewhat run-down in the past few days. Remember to get plenty of rest tonight, and try not to tease Willow and Tara too much.

Love, Voirrey.

"Huh." Faith placed the note down, wondering what sort of business the letter hinted at.

"Got us some little snacky snacks here, courtesy of Tara!" Willow called out. "What did the paper say?"

"Um. Voirrey's over at Giles' place. Got the house to ourselves." Faith gave her a thumbs up. "So let's hog the sofas and watch crappy television."

Tara tossed over a packet of plain-salt chips. Faith ripped the packaging and devoured them like a starving animal. The three girls munched through the collected food with relish. Willow lay claim to the thick blue sleeping bag, and Tara to the green. Faith simply draped a thin blanket over herself and turned on the T.V. Willow peeked out from under her bag.

"How you doin', you know, on the sun bombs?"

Faith trained her drowsy eyes on the redhead. "Trying to save them for the real nasties, Red. Got a couple left. Think you two can work the mojo for some more?"

"It's tricky," Tara said, chewing a lip. She ran her hand down her blue sleeved arm in an lazy, absent motion. "They're n-not exactly easy to make, and it was a fluke we even succeeded in the r-recipe in the first place. W-we have enough supplies to probably make twenty more, but then I've no clue where we can get the ingredients after."

"The Magic Box may have some, but it's bang in the bad side of town," Willow mused. "Even with the ingredients though, it'll take quite a few days to make them and a lot of power. You need to make those bombs last."

"Sucks," Faith sighed, flopping on the armchair. "That we need to use them. Don't get me wrong, they're wicked cool, it's just…"

"I know," Willow nodded. "Lots of vamps just cravin' to get a good ole bite out of us. I still can't believe how long it's been since…" her voice trailed off.

Tara jerked her head sharply at Willow's sudden drop in tone. "Will?"

"Three years, huh?" Faith said, knowing. She flicked idly through channels on the television, the mute symbol displayed in the bottom corner of the screen. "Pretty long time. You were good friends."

"Yeah." Willow set her jaw in a stubborn line, abolishing the memories. "You'd think we would be able to seal the Hellmouth by now."

"Well, I-it is sealed?" Tara flinched at Willow's glower. "I-in a way."

"Tell me you didn't just say that."

Tara tucked herself in deeper into the sleeping bag, wriggling like a giant green caterpillar.

"S-sorry, Willow. I still don't know much."

"What do ya know, then?" Faith prompted the blonde.

Tara shrugged. "I know your friend died, and the M-Master rose. But Kendra - it w-was Kendra, yeah? That was the name of the next Slayer?"

Willow and Faith nodded confirmation. Willow filled in the blanks. "She came two weeks after my friend died. We were all hiding out at Giles' place, Kendra did her Slayer thing and stopped the Master, but the damage was already done."

"What was Kendra like?" Faith said, after a pause. "You got to meet up and work with her a couple of times. How was she?" She switched the T.V off and flung the remote on the floor. She'd already asked plenty about Buffy, but barely anything about her predecessor.

"Uh, Kendra?" Willow pursed her lips in thought. "Jamaican, had a funny accent. Not much of a social life. Her only possession was a stake she called 'Mr. Pointy.' Nice enough girl, but she lived way too short. Like Buffy." Willow stared at Faith with sharp intensity.

"Scared that's gonna be me as well?"

Willow's mouth twisted. "I hope not. But a Slayer's life. It's too short, you know?"

Tara looked sad. "I think Giles said the average e-expectancy was nineteen, or something?"

Faith snorted. "You spend your days and nights killing things that go bump, one's gonna bump right back at you. Just the way it is."

"I don't like it." Willow rapped her pale knuckles on the blue sleeping bag. "I'm looking into it. Ways to make your job easier, the killing easier. Just everything, really. Tara and I are searching for something to see if we could get more Slayers."

Tara sighed. "Nothing so far though. Since we don't even know the first thing about the Slayer. O-other than that you're it and the line jumps when the current one d-dies."

"More Slayers…" Faith tasted the idea, as though she'd never even considered it before. The truth was, she hadn't. "All that 'one girl in all the world', crap…"

"Well, we know about the Potentials." Willow fidgeted on the spot. "When a Slayer… stops being a Slayer, the next Potential is activated. If we could find a way to do that to all of them at once…" She clapped her hands together to emphasise the point. "No more problem."

"But we're sure if we're thinking this, people in the past must have as well," Tara finished.

"Here's hoping you geeks can."

Willow shook her head. "But, before even thinking about more Slayage, we need to find a different way to seal the Hellmouth."

"Right," Faith agreed. "'Cause corking it up with witches is pretty stupid."

"Yes, especially with the whole dying thing." Willow rubbed her eyes. "I just can't find anything to help, though. Absolutely nothing." She appeared distressed at her perceived failure. Tara massaged Willow's shoulders in a soothing motion. Faith pretended to hack and spit.

"Demons. Hate their guts, even when they're spilled on the floor."

"Ew?" Tara and Willow responded.

Faith grinned at them, changing subject. "Well. No use getting on the angst. We'll just continue to save the world and stuff. Me kicking ass, you big bad witches and your mojo kooking everything up…"

"Witchcraft," Willow corrected, pouting.

"Witch fu sounds way better."

"Us big bad witches need our beauty sleep," Tara announced, snuggling up to her girlfriend.

Faith beamed at the two of them. "I'll leave you two lovebirds to it then."

"Night Faith. Sleep tight." Willow yawned.

Faith scooped the blanket up awkwardly. "Will do."

She still wasn't completely used to the business of people who acted like they actually gave a toss about her. She left her friends to their cuddling, dragging the blanket behind as she advanced upstairs.

She brushed her teeth after dumping her clothes in the laundry basket. She checked the wound oozing through the bandages, spending time applying a new dressing before pulling on a nightdress and plummeting into bed.

She reached immediately for the Tylenol hidden under her pillow, cricking three tablets out and popping them into her mouth. She slugged down the glass of water tactfully placed on the side dresser, waiting for the effect to kick in. Finally, she drifted off into dreamless sleep.