One month. One month since Faith and Buffy saw each other in person, before the Dullahan necessitated that they work together to reach a common goal. They could’ve saved Giles just by tolerating each other— they were all about the action, and that didn’t have to involve clearing the air between them. But where’s the fun in that? Faith wasn’t about to start crowing about it, but she’d definitely missed the connection she shared with Buffy. Which, okay, sounded pretty lame. But the two of them made a damn good team when it came to killing things with sharp weapons.
Westford Cemetery was waiting for them. It was rare for the gates to be open at an hour like this— hell, most of ‘em closed up shop around 5— but here they were, spread wide like a big spire-covered slayer beacon. If Faith hadn’t been so eager to get her slay on, she might’ve reconsidered their choice of cemeteries. Few nights ago she saw some sorta camera crew skulking around Lake View, so it wasn’t exactly outta the realm of possibility that they were walking into some kind of media death trap. Luckily they had Willow to save face, literally.
Faith took a quick survey of the area; vamps were way stealthier than people— especially people lugging around camera equipment— so she figured they were in the clear as far as being tailed by someone they’d wanna avoid being tailed by. Now she just had to wait for Buffy to get her ass over here so they could have a slayer style therapy session. Always was told that’s what she needed. Faith leaned against an obelisk shaped gravestone, hands in front of her. Fingers twisting together. She knew she hadn’t exactly been such a model friend to Buffy earlier, but she had way too much on her plate to take her feelings into consideration. Faith was used to having a bigger plate than most people, that was true, but she wasn’t about to lose Buffy’s approval so soon after getting it in the first place. Because fine, it meant something to her. It meant a lot of something. Even when Faith and Willow had first started seeing each other, she’d had serious doubts Buffy was down with it— didn’t think Faith was relationship material. And hell, could’ve convinced herself of that too. She pretty much abandoned hope of ever getting the A-OK once the whole Dawn thing— once that happened.
But now she had it. And if holding on to it meant telling a couple white lies here and there, then Faith would do it. Ignore the clenching in her chest that still felt out of place sometimes. Besides, another week from now it wouldn’t even be an issue. No more clause to worry about, no more reason for Buffy to skewer her with a knife. The rationalization half-calmed Faith’s nerves for the time being, and a cigarette got her the rest of the way there. She’d just lit it when she heard the telltale sound of someone approaching— snapping branches, crunching grass, gravel under boots. Classic horror movie stuff that’s actually pretty dead-on. She didn’t have to look to know it was Buffy. But she looked anyways. Wasn’t much help. “Hey B,” Faith waved her hand, cigarette glowing between her fingers, “guess I can’t call you Blondie anymore, huh?” She stretched her arms out above her head and propped herself away from the grave. Things already felt like they were bordering on awkward, and Faith hadn’t even seriously screwed things up yet. Hallelujah.
“Ready to do some low-pro dusting? I’m not gonna wait around, so you better be able to keep up.” There it was. Faith’s blood was boiling, running fast and hot. The stake in her pocket felt electrified when she gripped it in her hand, and even though neither of them really looked much like themselves right now, she had no doubt synchronized slaying was just what the doctor ordered.
Buffy was going out patrolling with Faith. It was strange considering the fact that just a short time ago she was certain she would never ever forgive Faith for what she’d done, let alone work with her on anything. But she had. They’d banded together to save Giles from what he’d considered certain death. If she wasn’t currently walking through a cemetery the thought might have elicited a chuckle. Giles being killed by something that they brought down in a matter of minutes? Ludicrous. There was no way Buffy or any of the other Scoobies (if they could still call themselves that) would ever let that happen. Buffy had resolved months ago that no-one else she loved was dying from something other than old age. It wasn’t happening, at least not while she was still kicking.
So yeah, she’d swallowed back the pain and teamed up with Faith and Willow. And it wasn’t half bad. She thought she wouldn’t be able to stand seeing them, that she’d see Dawn laying there in Spike’s arms all empty and lifeless when she looked at their faces… But she didn’t. Maybe Dawn being off at school and not moping around all depressed and messed up like in front of her face had softened the blow, softened her heart. Either way they’d fought together, and doing something great had put them on speaking terms at least. Not that they were really talking anything out. But Buffy was fine with that, sharing what she felt had become something she’d learned to repress for the sake of making everything else run smoothly. She needed allies, so she’d have to wait until this media battle was over before she burned bridges by telling people truths they didn’t want to hear.
It wasn’t long after Buffy crept into the graveyard that she found Faith. She could tell it was her by the “too cool for school and loitering outside the convenience store” stance that she took, leaning against one of the monuments like she owned the place. Which to be fair, she kind of did. Not all to herself of course, it was as much Buffy’s domain as it was Faith’s. Faith greeted her with a comment on the lack of blonde hair Buffy’s glamour was sporting. Buffy’d chosen it because it was opposite herself and just seemed like the logical thing to do when making a disguise. “Oh, feel free.” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. "But you won’t see me calling you ‘Brunettie’ any time soon.“ Buffy had to shoot back a comment about Faith’s own decision to change her hair color.
It was still a little strange for Buffy, the glamour thing. She could see Faith’s mannerisms and facial expressions in the girl that stood before her (impatiently jittering around in anticipation of slaying, I might add) but for a moment it felt like Faith wasn’t there. It took a few seconds to register, but as the girl continued speaking she seemed more and more like Faith. Insinuation that Buffy was somehow slower than she was? Yep, definitely Faith. "Oh don’t worry, I’m ready. I may not look like myself but I’m still very much Buffy.” She let the stake hidden up her sleeve drop down and gripped it in her hand, giving it a few good twirls for good measure.
“The vamps aren’t just gonna suddenly stop prowling so we can just stand around and chit-chat,” she said. She was beginning to feel the anticipation she’d sensed in Faith when she first found her. Buffy was ready to kill some creatures of the night and nothing was going to stop her, especially not her identity. This whole media thing had really been throwing her lately. With an image to uphold, she couldn’t really go out for her nightly slay when cameras were following her. All the more reason she needed Willow, so she wouldn’t have to be trapped by who she was. She never could thank Willow enough for helping her get glamourfied all the time.
“We were born to move,” she said as she took careful yet confident steps deeper into the graveyard. Every muscle in her body was on high alert and she could feel the wind as it grazed across her skin, moving the fine hair on her arms ever so slightly. She was on high alert and she could feel the on edge tension coming from Faith as well. Even after so many years of this routine, slaying never failed to excite.
This Is A Test 