Author's Note: Okay, preliminaries are (largely) out of the way now, so time to get to the real nitty gritty of this story. Hope everyone's having as much fun reading it as I am writing it, because this has been a blast so far! Reviews are much appreciated!

Manhattan…

If there was one thing Faith Lehane had grown accustomed to in her years of slaying, it was the stench of the newly dead. Sometimes the smell meant a vampire was near; others, it indicated a new victim. When she was first called, Faith hated the smell. She lost count of how many times she had to duck into the dark alleys of Boston to vomit after catching a whiff.

The smell didn't bother her stomach anymore - years of being surrounded by it, if she had to guess - but the Slayer still didn't like it. Maybe because it was a reminder of her past; then again, maybe it was just a horrible smell.

One that filled her nostrils at the moment.

Ducking into one of the seemingly thousands of alleys just in Manhattan alone, Faith pulled a stake from her denim jacket. The smell grew stronger with each step she took. Just because she wasn't in New York to stake vampires and fight demons, that didn't mean she wouldn't take the time to do just that. After all, New York was a big city. It was bound to have its share of nasties.

If nothing else, being on patrol also distracted her from her true reason for being in the Big Apple. Babysitting other Slayers was really not Faith's forte, and the fact that this particular Slayer also happened to be a homicide cop – Faith had some choice words for Rupert Giles about this mission, words she would have with him in the privacy of his office once she got back to jolly old England.

Faith would be the first to admit - to herself, anyway - that she wasn't the most reasonable person in the world when it came to law enforcement. She felt like she'd been granted a reprieve when she busted out of prison, and she thought she'd made good on that second chance by helping get Angel back and then helping close the Sunnydale Hellmouth.

Even if the idea of Angel wiping her legal slate clean was appealing, as some had told her in recent years, she no longer fully trusted him. If there was one thing Faith struggled with, it was moral quandaries. Everything in the early part of Faith's life had been cut and dry, black and white. This gray area stuff was still a hassle.

The smell grew stronger yet, causing Faith to scrunch her nose in disgust. She tightened the grip on her stake, training her ears for any sound out of the ordinary. The night was strangely quiet for New York, save a siren wailing in the distance. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the din of the alley; clouds covered the moon.

Faith felt her foot brush against something. She stopped in her tracks, the smell almost strong enough to make her gag. Her heart pounding in her chest, Faith looked down at the ground to find a foot no longer attached to its leg.

As her eyes followed a trail of blood, the dread washed over her. A human body, disfigured beyond recognition, sat propped against the brick wall. The face was practically burned off, the chest cavity gaping. The victim's flesh had been shredded off, its sternum snapped in two. The heart was missing. One lung sat in the victim's left hand.

"Ugh…"

The Slayer was about to kneel before the body for a closer inspection when the siren registered in her senses. The sound was louder than before, the whine growing closer. Faith swallowed a lump in her throat, her fingers trembling as she dropped the stake. Was it an ambulance? A squad car? Was it coming to the alley?

Faith stayed as still as she could, shaking and hoping the darkness of the alley would shield her. She closed her eyes, holding her breath as the siren built up to its loudest point, before the ambulance sped past the alley's opening and the wailing dissipated anew.

With a sigh of relief, Faith opened her eyes and managed to fish her phone from her jeans. She had to call someone about the body. She had no idea who, since as far as she knew, Faith had no contacts in the city. Then again, given the state the body was in, something told Faith this wouldn't be a garden variety murder. In point of fact, it was probably something more up her alley.

The Slayer had dialed 9-1-1 before a clicking sound from behind stopped her in her tracks.

"Freeze!" a female voice shouted. "Drop the phone! Hands above your head!"

Slowly doing as she was told, and hoping her hands weren't shaking too much, Faith swallowed hard. She closed her eyes, in part to fight off tears, and felt her legs growing weak. Faith could barely stand, her wind awash with all the possible ways this could end. None of them were promising.

"Turn around!"

The request didn't register at first, Faith's body remaining motionless.

"I said, turn around!"

With a flinch, Faith exhaled and turned around. Her hands shook, and the Slayer refused to look at the detective. Her breath grew ragged, and her cell phone buzzed on the ground. Faith's stake sat at her feet.

Kate Beckett held her gun as steady as she could, almost dropping it when she saw the woman's face. It was the same woman in the picture that lawyer had given her earlier that day. The sight of the woman standing in front of a badly mutilated body made the detective's stomach turn. She hated the idea of Wolfram & Hart being right about something.

"Put your hands above your head," Kate ordered, placing her gun back in its holster and reaching for her handcuffs as she approached. "You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law…"

Turning around, and cringing at the familiar tug of metal handcuffs slapping onto her wrists, Faith fought the urge to speak out, to announce the fact that she knew the woman arresting her. The head shot in the file Giles had sent her was unmistakable, and it appeared Faith was going to encounter this newfound Slayer sooner than she'd hoped.

The fact that their first conversation was likely to take place in an interrogation room didn't thrill her, either.

The Twelfth…

"You realize," Kate began, slapping a manila folder on the drab table, "how bad this all looks."

Faith kept her gaze squarely on the folder. She wasn't all that curious to see the inside of it - she probably already knew all the gory details - she just wanted to keep from looking at the detective. Something about Kate Beckett bugged her, aside from the fact that she was a Slayer - a Slayer with a badge, no less.

Her wrists cuffed, Faith went through all of her options. None were appealing. Call Faith a pessimist, but she didn't really see any way out of this. She figured her days were numbered when she left Los Angeles; in many ways, the Slayer was surprised she lasted this long.

"Yeah, well," she answered, "cut-up bodies usually aren't that pretty."

Kate took her seat with a sigh, opening the folder and flipping through the pages. Her dark hair flared out at the ends, the hints of red noticeable under the harsh light. A blue pen was tucked behind her left ear. She wore her badge on her hip, seemingly intent to let the whole world know how important she was.

"You've led quite the life, Ms. Lehane," the detective's hazel eyes were glued to the paper. "Three years in a women's correctional facility after committing at least two murders, only to escape in 2003 and flee to several different places. Sunnydale, Los Angeles, Cleveland, London…now here you are, in New York. How long have you been in New York, Ms. Lehane?"

Faith shrugged, staring at the floor. "Just got in yesterday."

"Hm." Kate took notes. Records provided by Wolfram & Hart offered nothing to suggest why this woman was in New York. Kate's own guess figured if she was in London, that was where she would stay.

Kate wasn't about to tell Faith this, but the body found in that alley was the fourth such victim since the summer. If the dark-haired woman's version of events were true, then she couldn't have committed the first three murders – which ruled her out as a serial killer. But given the rest of the file…

"What were you doing in that alley?" the detective asked.

"Taking a shortcut to my hotel," Faith lied. "Hung out with some friends at a bar, decided to walk home. S'only a couple blocks."

"I see." Kate laid down her pen. "And do you typically carry sharp wooden sticks when you go out?"

"Yeah," Faith shrugged. "Not real big on guns."

The detective leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms. The dark-haired woman was lying; she could almost smell it. Faith's body language betrayed every word she said - the shoulder shrugs, the constant eye movement, the hand-wringing. This woman was nervous, borderline frightened. Good. Suspects were usually more forthcoming when they were scared.

"You had a six-inch dagger strapped to your leg when we brought you in," Kate continued. "Is that correct?"

Faith nodded.

"Technically, I can have you arrested for that," Kate pressed. "I don't care if some law firm in Los Angeles wiped your file clean. You're a convicted felon in possession of at least one weapon, and I found you standing over a fairly gruesome corpse. Forgive me if I'm being harsh, Ms. Lehane, but you've killed before. Why should I think you haven't killed again?"

Before Faith could protest, a wave of anger washing over her, the door burst open. Faith's heart skipped a beat when saw a tall man stride into the interrogation room, black coat billowing around his broad shoulders and dark hair standing straight up in the front. Faith sat up a little straighter, her eyebrows scrunched together, her eyes twitching from the detective back to the man.

"Angel?"

The sound of his name interrupted Angel before he had a chance to say anything to Detective Beckett, casting a sideways glance with a confused glance before doing a double-take. "Faith?" He turned his gaze back to Kate, his pale features forming into a scowl. "Kate…"

"What are you doing here, Angel?"

"I could ask the same thing about her," Angel argued, pointing at Faith. "Don't…" His frown deepened. "She's not a murder suspect, is she?"

Faith shrugged. "Apparently, I am."

With a sigh, Kate stood and folded her arms over her chest. "We found her hovering over a badly mutilated body, Angel. Where I come from, that's pretty suspicious."

The vampire's eyes trained on the manila folder on the table, a chill running through his lifeless body when he saw Wolfram & Hart's corporate logo stamped onto the cover. He grabbed for the folder before Kate could protest, ignoring her hand tugging on his shoulder as he flipped through the folder's contents.

For the most part, the folder contained information Angel already knew; after all, faith had been his personal redemption mission of sorts dating all the way back to his days in Sunnydale. But when Angel reached the page authorizing Wolfram & Hart to release this information, and saw the signature of the man who authorized it, he replaced the folder on the table with a sigh.

"You're being played, Kate."

"Really." Kate quirked a disbelieving brow. "What, you gonna tell me Ms. Lehane's a Slayer, too?"

"Yeah," Angel said. "Actually, she is."

"Funny." Kate's glare of disapproval shifted back to the dark-haired woman. "I wasn't aware Slayers killed humans too."

Ignoring all matters of decorum, and momentarily forgetting she was in a police precinct, Faith pushed herself from the metal chair with a grunt, approaching Detective Beckett until Angel squeezed himself between the two woman. "Look, lady," Faith spat through gritted teeth, "whatever's in that file is ancient history. You wanna know why I'm in town? It's to find you!"

Kate frowned and glanced at Angel. "Me? Why?"

"Giles sent me," the brunette Slayer huffed, giving Angel a hopeful glare.

Kate's frown deepened even more, as if it were possible. "Who's Giles?"

"Rupert Giles," Angel answered. "He's…he runs the Council of Watchers."

Before the conversation could go any further, the door to the interrogation room opened again, Detective Kevin Ryan poking his head into the room. He gave Angel a once-over with a quirked brow, before turning his attention back to Kate. "Hey, Beckett, uh…hate to interrupt, but there's someone here who wants to see you."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Whoever it is, it can wait."

Ryan's eyes sparkled as he flashed Kate a teasing smile. "Even if that someone is Richard Castle?"