Chapter Text
Angel lingered on her in every way possible. He was the only thing she thought about when she was awake, and the only person who consumed her dreams.
When she was little, she'd wanted to be a professional figure skater. To be famous and loved, admired by all. She'd wanted her parents to stop yelling (maybe if she was better they wouldn't be shouting all the time). She'd wanted to be Homecoming Queen. She'd wanted to be everything. Now all she wanted was Angel back.
The road outside her apartment was loud. It was LA. Home. In a new way, a bitter way.
She'd come here because it felt familiar, safe. Yet, here she was, and everything just felt like a twisted reminder of how much she'd changed, of how much the world had changed.
She'd found an apartment on the opposite side of the city to where she used to live. It was the more rundown part of Los Angeles; she'd only ever been there once when she was younger. Joyce had shouted at her when Buffy came home that night, telling her she must never go to that part of town so late ever again, that that part of town was far too dangerous for girls like Buffy.
It was amusing, in retrospect. How what used to be dangerous, was now a refuge. How her mother used to tell her off for not coming home before curfew, and now her mother had exiled her from her house. How she used to discard boys without a thought, never growing attached, and now she spent every second of her existence consumed with Angel.
The job at the diner was a necessity. She needed money, and she didn't have enough qualifications for another job. She was convinced she was only hired because she was young, and pretty. The truckers who passed through liked to leer at her. If not for her appearance she'd have been completely lost, because she certainly didn't have the temperament for working in service.
"Smile pretty, Anne. Always be sayin' nice things, alright? The men like it when ya compliment them," he'd say. "Now go on, hurry on, get 'ta working."
Anne. That was her name now. Just Anne. Places like this didn't require a surname. Even her lease didn't, as long as she paid in cash, and didn't ask too many questions about the noises coming from the top floor where the owner lived.
Buffy saw the girls come and go. Maybe if she had more energy, she'd try to help them. As it is she can barely drag herself out of bed each morning.
"We've got fresh blood," the owner - Mitch - tells her when she came in Friday morning. She doesn't mind Friday shifts. Everyone was happier on Fridays, the promise of the weekend coaxing smiles and bigger tips out of them all. Buffy likes tips. She doesn't like how, when the owner - a balding man with barely three teeth left in his mouth - said 'fresh blood', her mind immediately went to Angel. "New gal, 'bout your age. Bit more life to her though, eh," he chuckles, before plodding off to his office in the back.
Buffy doesn't actually see this new girl until the end of her morning shift. Apparently, she was taking just the afternoon today – had some business to handle in the morning. That's what Jean said at least.
Jean was nice. Buffy had needed to rush out the other week and Jean covered her shift without complaint. The issue with Jean is that she's too nice. She always asks Buffy how her day is going, and what her weekend plans are - what her future plans are. She asks where Buffy's staying, and if she's doing alright, always with a friendly smile and a hint of concern in her eyes. Buffy doesn't need concern. She just needs peace, and quiet - not a second mother. She already has two absentee parents, no need to have a third try at it.
"Hey, blondie, you must be," her eyes flickered down to Buffy's name tag, "Anne." The girl cocks her head to the side curiously. "You don't look like an Anne."
"Nice to meet you too…?" Buffy's too tired for this.
"Faith. Don't worry about 'membering my name though. Shouldn't be here too long. Places to visit, people to do." Faith winks. Buffy almost cracks a smile. "You off for the day?" she asks as Buffy unties her apron.
"Just taking my lunch break."
"Good. Wouldn't want ta be stuck in here for four hours with zero entertainment, y'know."
Buffy raises her eyebrow. Entertainment. Buffy's not been the most entertaining as of late. "Right, well..."
"Gotta figure out how this thing works," Faith says, her attention no longer on Buffy. Instead, she busies herself yanking at the coffee machine.
Faith clearly hadn't been hired on skill. Buffy rushes forwards, quickly removing Faith from the machinery. "Okay, maybe don't do that," Buffy says. "Just - find Jean. She'll help. Or just wait until I'm back. Just don't... whatever you're trying to do, don't do that," Buffy rambles. The last thing she needs is the new girl breaking the coffee machine. Mitch would probably steal Buffy's tips to repair it, and Buffy was getting quite excited about the prospect of affording dinner tonight.
"A'ight. Pinky promise. No breaking the…" she trails off.
"Coffee machine," Buffy prompts, already concerned about her new colleague. This is not going to end well, Buffy knows.
"Righty. Coffee machine." She looks around the counter, confusion growing on her face as her eyes landed on new things. Buffy bites her lip, then quickly decides it's not her problem.
"See you," she says curtly, leaving one confused girl in her wake.
*
Faith's a quick learner - at least, she is when Buffy's standing over her, making sure she's actually doing what she's supposed to be doing. The rest of the time, Faith swans around the diner, making small talk with customers and sneakily disconnecting the jukebox at every available moment. Faith's lack of inclination to put any effort into her job is less annoying that it should be, mostly because the few times Faith does try to put effort in, she normally breaks things or spills things or just generally makes everything worse.
Buffy's perfectly happy to let Faith do all the customer relations stuff whilst Buffy hides away in the back, making coffee and slicing up pies. As long as Faith splits the tips.
Faith's eerily similar to Buffy. Perhaps it's a runaway, high school dropout thing - they all have the same deflated, listlessness, with an excess of restless energy.
(Buffy's not actually sure if Faith is a runaway, or a high school dropout - in fact, most of their friendship operates on the basis of 'don't ask questions' – but it's an easy assumption to make.)
They both work as many shifts as they could get, meaning most times when Buffy's working at the diner, Faith is there too.
They both don't have any friends. Or, at least, no friends here in Los Angeles.
They both despise their job. They hate the people they serve and aren't very good at pretending they don't. Though, Faith is far better at pretending. She talks to the truckers with an air of familiarity, laughing her way through their obscene, sexist jokes, and winking at them when they slap her on the ass. Faith seems to like the truckers more than the suits.
It works out quite well. Buffy learnt early on that the suits rile Faith up. She could handle pig-headed comments from the truckers, but one of the suits would call her 'sweetheart' and her eyes would go cold.
Buffy still isn't quite sure how it had happened, but one time she'd heard the dreaded 's' word from across the room, and, before she could even turn around to see what was going on, she'd heard the thud of the body on the floor.
Faith claimed she barely touched him. "He tripped over his tie," she'd said, her tone serious despite the stupidity of the statement.
Mitch had taken her tips that night. Faith claimed she had no regrets.
From that night onwards, they'd agreed that Faith would take all the truckers and Buffy would handle the suits. Their impromptu system worked well.
"You see, you expect it from them," Faith explains one night, her eyes glassy as she sprawls herself on Buffy's floor.
Alcohol had been another thing Faith had introduced into Buffy's life. She'd taught Buffy how to get served without an ID, how to tell which guys would turn a blind eye. The issue with alcohol: it's expensive. At least, with the amount Buffy and Faith consume in a night, it is.
Both of them have pretty high constitutions for the stuff. Buffy blames it on her slayer constitution. As far as Faith's constitution is concerned, Buffy figures Faith drank it so much her body barely registered it was alcohol anymore.
"And that makes it easier?" Buffy asks, ripping off the bottle cap with her bare hand. Faith's too buzzed to notice.
"I dunno. It's just the way they are, y'know. Like they don't mean anything by it - they won't do no harm."
"And the suits will?"
"See, I don't get you blondie. You're here, alone, runaway from outta somewhere," the one exception to the 'don't ask' rule tended to be alcohol, "no school. Yet you're so white hat."
"White hat?"
"You stick to the rules." Buffy holds up her beer pointedly. Faith just scoffs, "As though you got anywhere near that sorta stuff before I got here. That's why you need me. Gotta have some bad influence in your life."
"Right," Buffy laughs. She'd been doing that more lately. The beers – as disgusting as they tasted – helped. Faith, though Buffy was reluctant to admit it, helped too.
"Anyways… White hat. You expect everyone to be so damn good. Everyone to be as good as you with your morals and 'no stealing'. But not everyone's good, Annie." She sounds sad. She shouldn't be sad, Buffy decides. She should be happy. That's what alcohol was for, right? Makes you forget about how fucked up life is. Makes you forget about Angel being gone. Makes you forget about how you were the one who plunged the sword into his chest. Makes you forget the look in his eyes when you– "People are bad. Truckers, they have no power, they're harmless. Suits. They're in charge. They make the rules and they figure out how to break them, how to win."
Faith takes another large swig. "That's what life is y'know. A competition. Not of the strongest," Faith scoffs. "I wish it were, but it's not. It's who has the power. Who has the money. Those people, they go around life, they can do whatever they want. Lie, cheat, hurt people. No one cares."
Buffy frowns. Her life had always been pretty black and white. Monsters were bad. Kill them. Demons, vampires… Angel was the exception. The only exception to the rule… though, perhaps that wasn't true anymore: Snyder was the principal, and he was as corrupt as they came; her mother was supposed to protect Buffy, and instead she'd thrown her out.
"Maybe you're right."
"Hear that." Faith clambers to her feet and shouts out the window. The words don't go anywhere, just echo against the building two metres to the other side of them - Buffy couldn't exactly afford an apartment with a view. "She admitted it. I'm the smart one now." Faith waddles over, seating herself on the floor next to Buffy. "One for the history books," Faith says, nudging her shoulder.
"I never said I was smart." Buffy shakes her head.
"Didn't need ta. Smarter than me. I dunno how you've ended up here blondie, but we both know it ain't where you belong. You and me, we don't belong in the same place." She offers Buffy a bitter smile, her eyes darting all over Buffy's face.
Buffy grips Faith's hand. "I don't care where we belong. Screw all that, responsibility and Giles and the council..." Buffy trails off as she realises what she's saying. The alcohol coaxes words off her tongue that shouldn't be set free - not in front of Faith at least. Buffy swallows, checking to make sure if Faith had noticed what she'd been saying. She hadn't, eyes fixed on her hands, considering some deep thought. "My mom. Screw them all." Buffy nods seriously, before her mind takes her back where she almost always is: Angel. "Well," she corrects, "don't screw. Not screw. Screwing bad. Leads to bad things."
Faith giggles with a ferocity that could only be induced by alcohol, "What catholic bullshit were you raised on? Same as me I suspect, have you not figured it out yet: screwing is fun."
"Screwing is fun. It's good. What happens next, not so good," Buffy says, too inebriated to notice Faith's misunderstanding. How Faith hadn't immediately known that she was talking about the gypsy curse put on her undead boyfriend (well, dead-dead now) which said the moment he felt true happiness (aka sex with the girl he loved) he'd lose his soul, Buffy has no idea. Surely that was the obvious answer.
"Oh shit," Faith's eyes go wide, "is that what happened to ya? That's why your ma kicked you out?"
"Well, she wasn't too happy with what happened after the Angel thing. Did not like him. Though, he was a bit, murder-y afterwards so I guess I don't blame her for that."
"Your ex was a murderer? Maybe you ain't so white hat after all…"
"Hah." Buffy looks at Faith gleefully. "See, I'm full of surprises. I'm complexity-girl."
Faith grins. "Well, you certainly keep me on my toes."
*
"Annie," Faith says, leaning over the counter in the diner in an almost flirtatious way she normally reserved for truckers who were good for tips. Buffy eyes her cautiously. "I was thinking,"
"Wow, this is a day of firsts."
Faith rolls her eyes, ignoring Buffy. "I was thinking," she repeats firmly, and Buffy bites her lip to stop herself from smiling, "how I spend most nights at your apartment right?" Buffy blushes slightly as one of the eavesdropping truckers whistles appreciatively. "Oh, Johnny," Faith turns to him with a salacious smile, "don't worry about that, you know I'm saving myself for you."
"James," the man corrects with a pout, turning to his friends. "She thinks I'm called Johnny?" he complains more quietly - quiet enough that without Buffy's enhanced hearing, she wouldn't have heard him.
"No, James," one of his friends says, laughing, "she thinks you're an ass."
Buffy hides her smile and turns back to Faith. "Yep, I am aware that you're stealing all my stuff." Buffy's never gone through shampoo quicker than since Faith's started hanging at her place.
"Well, I was wondering… I'm tryna save money you see, and with how much time I'm spending at mine and all…"
"Saving money for the next place?" Buffy asks, trying to hide the bitterness in her voice. The idea of Faith leaving left her heart heavy, and oxygen slightly less effective. Buffy inhales sharply. She hates herself for it - she doesn't need Faith. Or anyone.
Yet, somehow, despite all the promises she'd made to herself about not getting attached to anyone, Buffy had come to rely on Faith. She was the only consistent Buffy had - or, the only consistent that Buffy was glad for. She was the relief at the end of the day; the break from this monotonous life Buffy had found herself in. Buffy's shift would end, and she had something to look forward to - besides sleep and dreams which offered nothing but echoes of Angel.
"Well...." Faith grins sheepishly. "So? What do you say? You want a roommate?" Buffy bites her lip, pretending to consider the idea. She knew what her answer would be - she'd known what it'd be since the second Faith uttered the question. Faith was impossible to say no to. Buffy didn't want to say no to her - not when she didn't know how much longer she would have with her, before Faith inevitably got bored of LA. "Let me rephrase the question," Faith says. "Do you want to pay half the current rent?"
Buffy laughs, and nods. She turns around, grinning as Faith whoops dramatically, and heads towards the couple sitting in one of the booths.
"You guys ready?"
"Yeah." The guy leans his head against his girlfriend's, The couple are staring at each other in a way which screamed young, naïve, stupid love - Buffy's specialty. "I think we're… good..." He finally raises his eyes from his girlfriend. "Anne."
"What'll you have?" Buffy plasters a smile on her face. It doesn't reach her eyes. All she can think about is how blindly optimistic she'd been when she was dating Angel. She'd assured herself they had a future because he made her feel like no one else existed - that she'd die without him. He was oxygen, and she was suffocating; how could any future exist without him. The entire world faded to let him come into focus, and Buffy had let it because the love was so all-consuming it was worth it. Then, fate - who's sole purpose in life seemed to be hurting Buffy - hit, and Angel died, and Buffy was left alone and aimless.
"Well, okay, what can we get with, um…" He reaches into his pockets, pouring out coins onto the table. Buffy has to actively refrain from rolling her eyes, and telling him to just check the damn menu. The last coins clatter onto the table, and the guy looks up hopefully. "This."
"Um…" Buffy scans the coins. There's enough to form a small pile, but when Buffy looks closer most of them were dimes and quarters. Scraped together, they could probably buy something, but Buffy wasn't about to start doing math - she didn't get paid enough for that.
"Can we get cake?" The girlfriend pipes up, and Buffy finally switches her attention over to her. She's blonde, and thin, and deathly pale in a way which screamed vampire - if she hadn't been wandering around in the day light.
"Don't be stupid. We got to eat healthy. We can't have cake," the man says. His girlfriend seems unoffended - Buffy silently suspects she's too dumb to hear the insult - and the two intertwine their hands. "Can we get a pie?"
Right, because that's so much healthier.
"We've got a peach pie," Buffy says, doodling on her pad of paper. "I can't guarantee there's a peach in it."
"We shouldn't have blown all our money," the girl says, still staring at her boyfriend.
"Come on, it was worth it." Buffy glances over her shoulders, locking eyes with Faith in a silent cry for her to end Buffy's suffering. "Hey, check this out." The two put out their arms onto the table, half of a heart is inked into each, the names 'Rickie' and 'Lily' etched into the skin. Young, naïve, stupid love.
"It's nice… It's nice and, uh, permanent," Buffy says dumbly, pushing asides the thought that her and Angel could have been permanent. It was stupid either way. They had no long term future. He was immortal and allergic to the sun for God's sake.
Buffy had loved him anyway. She'd thought they had a future anyway.
She wonders whether that's the entire point of a first love. It's just false hope which only serves you to break down into pieces when it's inevitably ended.
"Yeah, forever. I mean, that's the whole point." The two embrace again, before the girl finally lifts her eyes to look at Buffy.
Buffy freezes - she knows her. They'd gone to school together before Buffy had been Called. They must have only shared a few classes, but Buffy wasn't exactly low-profile at Hemery, even before the whole 'blowing up the gym' fiasco. She was voted both Prom Princess and Fiesta Queen - something she'd been so stupidly proud of back then.
Lily's eyes widen as she looks over Buffy's face. "Hey, do we know each other?"
"I don't think so." Buffy shakes her head quickly.
"Really..." Lily's eyes narrow. "Where are you from?"
"I'll get your pie." Buffy excuses herself, hastily making her way over to Faith.
"Can you cover me?" Buffy asks, offering no explanation and silently praying that Faith wouldn't ask for one.
Faith frowns, before nodding slowly. If Buffy didn't know better she'd say Faith was concerned. "'Course. We still on for later?"
They had nothing planned. Most nights ended with them drinking in Buffy's apartment anyways – well, Buffy and Faith's apartment now.
Buffy nodded. "Obviously," she says, "you're moving in." The words have their intended effect, and a reassured smile burst forth on Faith's face.
"A'ight. See you later, roomie."
*
Chantarelle. That was her name. Lily, Chantarelle - whoever she was - accosted Buffy later that night. Well, 'accosted' is probably putting it harshly, but to someone who'd checked out on golden hour for tips just to avoid her, it felt pretty 'accost-y'.
"I know how it is when you got to get lost."
That's what she said. The words stick with Buffy even as she's sitting in her apartment watching Faith unpack her bag. Their apartment, Buffy silently corrects. Hers and Faith's.
"I just kind of… I want to be alone." That's what Buffy had said to Lily. Maybe a month ago it would've been true. But then Faith happened, and Buffy had scarcely spent a minute without her since… she'd gotten used to the company. It was good. She liked it.
Honestly, she had no idea how she was going to cope when Faith left. She spent a worryingly large amount of her time thinking about how she could convince her to stay. Faith didn't know how right she was when she'd said Buffy needed her.
She'd walked home without her one time and she'd been accosted by Chantarelle-slash-Lily, and gotten run over. Not that she'd told Faith any of that. Nor did she plan on.
"Where are you running from?" The youth pastor type – Ken – had said. "You've got the look… like you had to grow up way too fast." Buffy had thrown away the leaflet the second she'd turned the block. Despair. That's what he'd said.
The only time Buffy felt despair anymore was when she was thinking about Faith leaving, and what she would have to do after she'd gone; once Faith leaves, Buffy has to figure out just how permanent this move is. She'd have to make the choice: return to Sunnydale, or, do as her mother had told her to, and never go back.
"You alright, blondie? Not regretting all this?" Faith sounds uncharacteristically nervous.
Buffy looks to where Faith had put her stuff on the opposite side of the room. She didn't have much – like Buffy, she packed light. Always ready to move to the next place. Buffy knew that LA was the longest Faith had stayed in one place for a while – she hoped that, just maybe, she was one of Faith's reasons for that.
Buffy couldn't put her finger on what it was about Faith that constantly pulled her in. Sometimes it reminded her of Angel; sometimes it felt like the exact opposite.
Angel had pulled her in because he was so different. He was a vampire, it was cosmically wrong, and maybe that was some of the reason Buffy had been attracted to him. Faith pulled her in because it was right, almost like it was fate - them meeting. Them being friends.
It couldn't be just a passing moment in her life. Buffy could barely envisage a future where Faith wasn't a permanent fixture, or at least an important one.
(That, in turn, reminded her of how much she had needed Angel, and for a split-second she sees the look in his eyes when she'd put her sword through him, and Buffy stiffens).
"Nope. Never," Buffy says firmly, even though a small part of her was already mourning having the full double bed to herself.
Faith hadn't seemed to make that realisation. Instead, Faith sits herself on the floor, setting out her clothes in layers, before propping her bag at one end. Buffy frowns - she seriously hoped Faith hadn't been sleeping like this all the time. It was one thing passing out on the floor drunk, it was another sleeping like this on the regular. Maybe this was why she was always so cranky in the mornings before her coffee.
"Faith," Buffy starts, mildly amused (and mildly concerned). "Come on."
"Huh?"
Buffy quirks an eyebrow. "You think I'm going to make you sleep on the floor?"
Faith's brow furrows. "It's not that bad. I've slept worse. It's warm. I've got blankets, a pillow - sorta - a–"
"Faith, come here. I don't bite."
Faith scoffed, "I have reason to be scared, I've seen you take down one of those pies all by yourself."
"Likewise," Buffy immediately retorts. "On the regular."
"Hey, I'm a growing girl."
"Who doesn't need her growth stunted by sleeping on the ground. Come on."
"Okay! Fine!" Faith finally acquiesces, trudging over with her blankets. Buffy would have laughed at how uncharacteristically shy the girl was being - the same girl who'd wink at truckers and judo flip suits (or whatever it was she did to put a man on the floor in under a second) - but she didn't want to scare Faith off.
Plus, it had been a long day. She was tired, and desperate to put this Chantarelle-slash-Lily thing behind her.
*
"Buffy… Um, Anne, can I talk to you?"
No such luck.
"Look." Buffy's eyes dart to Faith, making sure she hadn't heard Buffy's real name. "This really isn't a good time. Can it wait?"
"Rickie's gone. I haven't seen him for more than a day. I mean, he's never left for that long. I think something's… happened. Maybe something's happened," she rambles nervously. Buffy lets her, waiting until Lily finally falls silent.
Buffy sighs, "Well, did you call the police?"
"Rickie skipped out on his parole. Um, they would just cause more trouble." Buffy's mind flashes back to the drunken conversation with Faith about white hats. Faith never trusted law enforcement, or anyone wearing uniforms or suits – except firefighters she'd said once, because firefighters didn't have any other agenda but to save you. Lily had that same distrust. Buffy wonders what made her this way - what made Faith this way.
"I don't know. Did you… did you ask around?" Buffy shrugs. She can't understand why Lily is so insistent that she be the person to sort this all out. They're the same age, the same school year, yet for some reason even Lily seemed to innately know, Buffy's the one with the sacred duty. The entire world is her responsibility. God, being a slayer is such a drag sometimes. Can't a girl have a bit of peace?
"Can you help me?"
Buffy fiddles with the coffee she was making. No. She doesn't want to get back into this life. She doesn't owe it to this girl, who despite her overly familiar demeanour, is practically a stranger. "Uh, I… I can't."
"But that's who you are and stuff, right? I mean, you help people, and, you know…"
"I can't get into this. I'm sorry, Lily," Buffy says firmly.
"You… you know how to do stuff."
"I don't. Not anymore."
"But… I don't know what to do." She looks at Buffy, her eyes wide, innocent, expectant. Buffy can't understand why Lily looks at her like this. She seems to see right through the persona Buffy has been creating for herself and see the girl Buffy was in Sunnydale - not that Buffy's so sure which girl is the persona, anymore. The girl who meanders around life, serving coffee and pie for a pay check, or the one who saves peoples' lives.
Sure, she wants to say it's the latter. She wants to be good. She helped people. Lots of people, but that's because it was her job. Same as serving coffee is now. Her universe-mandated career which Buffy had been resolutely ignoring lately. It wasn't fair. It shouldn't be her duty. She was seventeen. She didn't deserve to have the fate of the world on her shoulders - and the world deserved more than her.
Buffy had already died for this. Kendra... Kendra had been a better slayer. She'd have never shirked her duty. But she'd died too.
Buffy figured there must be a new girl, a new slayer. This is her job now. Buffy's retired. Surely literally dying for the cause permits her some peace and quiet. Buffy wonders whether the new girl might have even found her way to Sunnydale. Maybe she'd found Giles and filled the gap that Buffy had left in the scooby gang.
Even if she wasn't in Sunnydale, she must be somewhere. That's how it worked. Slayer dies. New slayer gets chosen.
Buffy had died. Her job had cosmically been past onto a new girl. This wasn't her job anymore.
Clearly the memo hadn't reached Lily though - or Buffy - because somehow those wide, innocent, expectant eyes drove Buffy to visit a blood bank. Luckily, she'd convinced Lily to wait until the end of their shift, then ditched Faith with a little difficulty - their routines were so wrapped up in each other's that it was hard to make any valid excuse to explain why Buffy needed to go somewhere Faith wasn't allowed to.
The blood bank had been a bust, for the most part. It had set Buffy's slayer instincts off, but not enough to make her burn the place down for information – it was broad daylight, and Buffy's more explosive, Hemery days are in the past.
It makes Buffy's decision for her though - something's off here. And, as much as Buffy wants to entirely shove her slayer-side aside, everything about this situation just bugs her. She can't let it go.
Buffy doesn't waste time, she goes between hideouts quickly, eager to get this case over with already. This part of LA is easy to navigate nowadays. Her first two weeks in LA had introduced her to a lot of these kind of places. Back when she'd first arrived in LA, she'd had nowhere to stay, and had ended up crashing in a few of these hideouts. She'd had enough sense to not stick around in one place for too long (or paranoia, that somehow someone would find her). Her quasi-homelessness had lasted less than two weeks, before Buffy had managed to rack up enough money to supplement what she'd grabbed from home before she left. With those funds Buffy managed to rent her current place, and left all of this behind her, but she would never forget.
She finds Rickie in the third hideout she checks.
He's not Rickie anymore. Not in any way that matters. Not in any way that Buffy understands.
Buffy goes straight to Lily's motel. She knows what it's like to be left in stasis, not quite sure of what to do without the confirmation. She'd felt that way when Angel became Angelus, split between knowing that the man she loved was dead, and still having to see him. His face still stared back at hers, his voice still spoke back. But they weren't his words. And his eyes were loveless.
The last thing she wants to do is leave Lily in the same limbo-state that Buffy had been in - even if Buffy has no idea what's really going on here. Somehow, Angel losing his soul and having his body effectively be possessed by Angelus, was easier to understand than this bizarre instant-old age thing that Rickie experienced.
"Lily, I think he's dead," Buffy cuts across her ramblings. Blunt, sure, but how else was she supposed to say it? Buffy isn't sure she can extend enough of herself to be sympathetic anyway. She doesn't have enough energy for that.
"But… he takes care of me."
"I'm sorry," Buffy says, before telling Lily about the state she'd found Rickie in. She probably shouldn't have - it certainly didn't help. But she'd needed to tell Lily the truth. Something was going on here and Lily had to understand that. If Buffy had to bear this knowledge, Lily deserved to as well - she'd been the one to drag Buffy into this after all.
"These things happen all the time, you can't just close your eyes and hope it'll go away," Buffy says harshly. Her patience for Lily is ever-dwindling.
Lily pauses, raising her eyes to look at Buffy accusingly. "Is it 'cause of you?"
"What?"
"You know about… monsters and stuff. You could have brought this with you."
"I didn't bring anything with me. And I didn't ask for you to come to me with your problems. I just wanted to be left alone. If you can't deal, don't lay it all on me!" Buffy snapps. She tries to help someone, and this is what she gets? Screw this. Lily storms out before Buffy can. "Damn it!" Buffy shouts, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to go punch something.
Whatever was doing this, they definitely deserved a punch, Buffy reasoned.
She tells herself that that's why she keeps going: a desire to punch something. Deep down, she knows it's more. She's been neglecting her slayer side for too long, but, whether she likes it or not, it's a part of her. It's too hard to ignore.
Buffy already has her next step planned out anyway.
She goes back to the blood bank. It was only one block away from where Lily was staying, and - with slayer strength - isn't at all hard to break into.
Her suspicions are quickly validated, with minimal effort. The nurse turns out to be relatively helpful in a, 'I've been aiding a monster in murdering homeless teens for months, if not years' sort of way.
Still, somehow, Lily beats her to him - to Ken, the fucking youth pastor of all people.
Really, Buffy should have figured it out from all of Faith's drunken ramblings about how much she'd hated Catholic school and everything it represented. Faith went on and on about - in less eloquent words - people in power being corrupt. People who act nice for no reason - as far as Faith's cynicism dictates, and honestly, Buffy was beginning to buy into it - they always have a reason.
Ken fit the bill. When he ripped his face off, well that was just an unnecessarily ugly confirmation of what Buffy had already figured out.
The underground slave trade was a bit unexpected, if Buffy's being honest.
It doesn't take too long to dismantle though.
Buffy finds the return to routine unexpectedly peaceful. Which, yes, she's aware of the irony that slaying vampires and killing vampires could be considered peaceful, but it's true. A part of her soul had been jittery and restless ever since she'd left Sunnydale and made the decision to fade into the shadows, and neglect her slayer duty. It wasn't until today that she truly understood what had been missing. Now she knew, she couldn't not go back - to slaying, and maybe even to Sunnydale.
Well, probably not Sunnydale. There's a romanticised version of the tale that Buffy can't help but daydream about; one where Buffy's a good slayer, and a good friend. One where her mom accepts her back with open arms and they both just forget about everything that had happened. One where everything just works out, in some storybook way.
Buffy shakes her head out of the daydream - it's unrealistic. And Buffy doesn't want to go back. Not really. She's not sure how to play perfect friend, and perfect daughter - not when she's still the slayer. And being the slayer is more important right now. She doesn't need her mom reprimanding her for breaking her curfew because she had to save the world.
Though, Buffy had managed to get all her slaying done before 2 am today.
She had, however, failed to take into account her new roommate, when planning her late-night activities.
"Hey." Buffy grimaces as she opens the door and spots Faith sitting, waiting. She doesn't look up at Buffy, clearly pissed off at Buffy skipping out on her.
"Hey," Faith replies coldly, pointedly not making eye contact with Buffy.
"This is Lily. Lily, this is my roommate, Faith."
"Hi," Lily says, sounding oddly chipper for someone who's boyfriend was dead, and had nearly been enslaved today. Perhaps she'd learnt how therapeutic it is to just fight back.
"Hi." Faith turns around, her curiosity clearly getting the better of her. "Shit, blondie, what the hell happened?"
"Oh," Buffy says, raising her hand to the cut on her face. She'd forgotten about it - the wound is barely even throbbing anymore. Besides, she's used to pain by now. "Right..."
Faith's on her feet examining her wound before Buffy can blink. Buffy winces as Faith gingerly touches her cheek. Okay, maybe the pain was still there, just a bit.
"What the hell happened?" Faith says, taking a step back and surveying the two of them.
Buffy hesitates, almost laughing at the way Faith was mothering them, before realising that probably wasn't the response Faith was after. Nor was it the appropriate reaction for a normal - aka, not a vampire slayer - girl to have after getting a gash on her face. Unfortunately, Buffy wasn't so quick on the excuses.
Luckily, Lily helps her out, "We got attacked." Faith's eyes widen.
Buffy bites her tongue. Maybe not so luckily. Could she not just have said 'Anne fell over, because she's a huge klutz'? Now Faith's unnecessarily concerned. Buffy wouldn't be too surprised if she ended this night with a curfew in place, given the way Faith is looking her over.
"You're okay, though?" Faith eventually asks, reaching for Buffy's arm. There's a slash in her sweater- which, might honestly be the most annoying thing that happened today. Buffy really can't afford a new sweater. Or, at least, not a cute one - and really, what's the point if it's not cute.
"Yeah."
"B-Anne, was a real badass. Fought them off. Saved me," Lily elaborates, not helping Buffy's aim to stay insignificant and fade in the background. A seventeen year old girl fighting off men in the streets wasn't the most understandable of feats.
Faith just grins, looking almost… proud? "That's my girl," she says, and Buffy flushes, all daydreams of going home well and truly out of the window. Buffy will just have to cope with doing the slaying here in LA, and hope that her new roommate isn't going to be too observant.
The last thing she needs to do is to drag Faith into this slayer lifestyle.
She'd learnt her lesson.
This life is far too dangerous for her to have any type of partner in it.
She has to do it alone.