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Buffy looked at the girl at her table. Dark hair, black jeans, black leather jacket. She seemed different from the other lost teenagers who came through the diner.
Dangerous, somehow. But not in a bad way.
Not that Buffy was all that reliable when it came to predicting things going bad.
She walked up to the table, tried to seem polite but not too curious. “Hi, my name is Anne. What can I get you today?”
The girl looked at Buffy, then gave her a glance up and down. She smiled. “Hey, Anne. I’m basically looking for a giant sugar orgasm. Recommend something?”
“Definitely the triple chocolate cake,” Buffy said, smiling back.
“Sounds good. With a coffee, black.”
“Coming right up.”
--
“So how was the cake?” Buffy asked as she cleared the table.
“Awesome.”
“The other server, Jenny, she calls it better-than-sex cake.”
The girl raised her eyebrow. “The cake is damn good. But if it’s better than sex, her boyfriend is doing something very wrong.”
Buffy laughed. “Very possible.”
“So, Anne. I’m looking for a place to stay. Cheap, you know? Know anywhere?” The girl stared up at her, eyes large, full of fire.
Against all her better judgment, Buffy answered, “I have a couch.”
--
“I know it’s not much. It’s a crappy room,” Buffy said.
“Stayed in way worse. Appreciate it, Anne. I’m Faith, by the way.” She plopped down on the couch, letting a small duffel bag fall on the floor.
“So what brings you to town, Faith?” She sat next to her, then, not too close.
Faith shrugged. “Passing through. Might keep going down the coast.”
“Looking for work?”
Faith smiled. “I guess you could call it that.”
Buffy wanted to ask, but didn’t. “So, there’s not much to do in town. Like there’s a super boring video arcade and a super skeezy movie theater.”
“I’m cool just hanging out here.”
“Cool.”
“So like, this is probably going to sound like a super cheesy line, Anne. But… do you feel like… a vibe between us? Or am I crazy?” For the first time since they’d met, Faith looked… almost vulnerable.
Buffy paused. Something rough scraped at her insides, memory and loss and something deep inside her trying to survive, to resurface. “No. You’re not crazy.”
Faith grinned, then pulled unzipped her duffel and pulled out a small radio. “You wanna listen to some music? You like to dance?”
--
Buffy let out a whimper.
Her back was pressed against the wall, and Faith’s mouth was on her neck, her tongue writing filthy promises on Buffy’ skin as she unbuttoned Buffy’s shirt. She pulled down on Buffy’s bra then, straps moving down the shoulders to the arms, baring Buffy’s breasts, and Faith pressed her tongue down on her nipple, a hint of a scrape of teeth.
Buffy bucked, but Faith’s hands were on her hips, keeping her body pressed against the wall, and Buffy didn’t think that made sense, because even Angel wasn’t strong enough to do that, but Buffy figured that all these months of lonely need must have just made her limp with pleasure, and she sure as hell didn’t want to start thinking of Angel, of the last time someone touched her, of the pain and the death and grief like a blade that came after.
Faith takes off her own shirt, then tugs down on Buffy’s jeans pulling them below her hips. She gets on her knees and looks up.
Buffy looks down on her, bewildered.
“You sure you’re okay with this, Anne?” Faith asked, suddenly hesitant.
“My name’s not Anne,” Buffy said, not intentionally.
Faith didn’t seem surprised. “You want to tell me about it?”
“No.”
Faith nodded, with no judgment. “You want me to stop?”
“No. Don’t stop,” Buffy said, and she didn’t know why but she could hear that her voice was shaking, that it should have sounded like begging but it somehow sounded like rage, sounded like an order.
Faith nodded, pulled Buffy’s jeans all the way down. Buffy stepped out of them, let Faith pull her leg up onto Faith’s shoulder, leaned back against the hardness of the wall.
She felt Faith’s mouth on her, Faith’s fingers, and she closed her eyes, tried to think of nothing but her own body, of the sharp lines of fire Faith was sending through her body, waves of burning sparks, building and building, like flowers blooming, like skin scraping on concrete, like a thousand little bursts of forgetting.
--
In the morning Buffy asks her to stay for a few days, and to her surprise, Faith says yes.
They talk about celebrities they’d fuck and places they’d like to travel to someday and whether people can be trusted and whether it’s okay to just take what you want. They never talk about family or where they’re from or what they’re running from or running toward.
Faith is funny, full of life, and it’s been so long since Buffy felt anything but dead inside, she clings to it, to the feeling that something is happening, to the idea that maybe she won’t be underwater forever.
They argue of course too. Faith gets groceries every other day, until Buffy figures out she’s stealing them. Faith pretends like the judgment doesn’t bristle, but stops bringing bags of groceries home and lets Buffy feed them with leftovers smuggled from the diner.
When Buffy wakes up screaming, Faith reaches over, puts her arms around Buffy, and says, “Whatever it is, you survived.” She never tells Buffy that it’s all going to be okay, and sparing her those words is the kindest thing Buffy can imagine.
When Faith wakes up screaming, Buffy reaches out, but Faith gets up, says, “I’m fucking fine, okay?” and goes for a walk.
Faith still calls her Anne. She never asks for a real name, and Buffy never offers.
--
There’s a cult leader who’s really a monster, a girl who calls herself Chanterelle, and Buffy has to leave the diner and be the person she’s supposed to be.
Buffy doesn’t expect Faith to track her down into some underground lair. She definitely doesn’t expect Faith to put her hands on Buffy’s shoulders and say, “Look, Anne, in a minute you’re going to have questions, and you might think I’m a freak or a monster or something, but I promise, I will you keep you safe.”
Buffy wants to scream at her to get out of there, that the last thing she wants is to see Faith hurt, but a monster comes at them then, and Buffy pushes Faith aside, grabs a nearby plank, and stabs it through the head.
Another one comes, but before Buffy can do anything, Faith kicks it and sends it flying down the hole.
They stare at each other.
“You’re her,” Faith says. “You’re Buffy.”
“Who are you?”
Faith smirks. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m the Slayer.”
Buffy stares at her a long minute.
Faith shakes her head. “Damn. I knew we were connected, I mean I fucking felt we were connected, but I didn’t think it was like, cosmic and shit.”
Buffy feels like a rock is on her chest. But she says, “We’ll talk later. We have to get these people to safety.”
“If that’s what you’re into,” Faith says with a shrug, and Buffy’s almost positive she’s kidding.
--
They talked for a long time in Buffy’s room.
Finally, Faith asked, “Why aren’t you in Sunnydale? Heard you were kicking serious vamp ass down there.”
Buffy paused. “My boyfriend died.”
“Shit. Sorry, Anne. I mean, B.”
“I killed him,” she said swallowing, watching Faith carefully.
“I’m sure he deserved it.”
Buffy let out a breath. “I did it to save the world,” she said, voice cracking.
Faith let the words settle for a minute. Then: “Fucking slaying. Worst fucking job ever.”
Buffy actually smiled. “Totally.”
“Good thing we’re hot chicks with superpowers.”
“Good thing.”
“You’re going back home now, aren’t you?” Faith asked then, almost sounding disappointed.
“I think it’s time…. You were coming to find me, weren’t you? That’s why you’re in California?” Buffy asked hopefully
“Yeah. But only because I didn’t have anywhere else to go. I’m not… the type to get attached to a place.”
“…Oh.”
“But it sounds like you got a good thing going. Family, friends. You should go.”
“I honestly don’t think I have the courage to face them if you don’t come with me,” Buffy said, tentatively.
“That’s a fucking lie,” Faith said with a laugh, “If there’s one thing you got, it’s courage.”
Buffy smiled. “Fine. How about, we’re both slayers, you might as well meet my watcher, and hang out with me, and we’ll kill monsters and have a bunch of mind-blowing sex, and you can still leave any time you want? How about that?”
Faith paused, then shrugged. “You sure know how to talk a girl into something.” She smiled, dark, like trouble.
“Look who’s talking.”