Summers House, Sunnydale, California, Late April 2003 (Tuesday Fandom Time, Of Course)

[brat_inslayage]

It wasn't that Kennedy didn't think Willow could take care of herself or anything. She wasn't worried, exactly, about the fact that Willow had headed out to L.A. for a few days, and she was too busy with the other Potentials and their training now that their nebulous but anticipated doom had taken on a distinctly King of the Bracelets vibe to be pissy about not getting to tag along. They both had their roles in this fledgling Slayer-y army, and that was cool. Plus she got to brag about how her girlfriend was off re-ensouling a vampire, no big... and not have to be too near the heavy mojo. She was better about it now, but she still got a little twitchy. Better to stick to where she could be useful.

She was, however, having serious snuggle-time withdrawal. (Chao-Ahn wasn't helping. Every time the front door opened or the phone rang, Kennedy would perk up almost like an eager puppy, immediately pretend like she hadn't, and catch Chao-Ahn smirking at her with faintly pitying amusement.) Oh, well; they were sharing the room with a few of the Potentials now, so it wasn't like privacy was a thing at all any more. Hell, things had gotten to the point where Xander had to put up a dozen or so at his place. Splitting up like that made everyone a little jumpy, but there wasn't much they could do about it unless 1630 Revello Drive spontaneously doubled in size.

At the moment, the upstairs of the house resembled an out of control slumber party, if one where the constant laughter bore a slightly desperate, manic edge. Kennedy left them to it-- god knew they spent all day trying to learn to be an army, and they damn well ought to have a few hours at night to be kids. She opted to head downstairs instead, with a notebook, a couple of pens swiped from Willow's desk, and a vague notion that either she'd gotten responsible when she wasn't looking or Willow was rubbing off on her not dirty, because she actually had enough notes on their training sessions to start putting together a freaking chart of the girls' individual strengths and weaknesses, and which ones seemed to work well as a team.

That was kind of freaky. A little cool, though.

Xander	No one could blame Xander for spending one of his rare moments of not fixing, sweeping, or plunging anything (Oh God, his bathroom. His bathroom.) hiding out in Buffy's dining room as far away from teenage girls as humanly possible, right? And if he was hiding out a little harder from any of them who might have made COMPLETELY UNINVITED appearances in his dreams this morning, nobody who wasn't living in his head could see that, so there was no reason to go "Gaaa-aaah!" when Kennedy walked in, right? Right. Shut up.
Kennedy	Kennedy smothered a snicker as she dropped into a chair. "Either I suddenly got that scary overnight, or you're weirdly jumpy." That poor bathroom. Thanks, Dominique's stomach flu.
Xander	The fact that it was Kennedy, one of the few potential Slayers who hadn't been pillowfighting in his impromptu mental PJ-parties, was kind of a relief, and Xander relaxed, straddling a chair himself and leaning his arms on the back. "I don't sleep too good these days." As it were.
Kennedy	Given the nature of those impromptu mental PJ-parties, that sort of begged the question of why she wasn't in them, but never mind that, since she, you know. Didn't know. "Yeah, who does any more?" Which implied she wasn't, either, but, well. "Kind of too bad the population around here drops by the minute; Red Bull could corner the market on us if it was profitable." She snorted. "And then we'd all be jumpy all the time, and won't that make weapons training a bad idea?"
Xander	Hey, it was hardly Xander's fault that Kennedy thought she was too good to show up for his lesbian-porn sleepover dreams. "Right, because nobody's on a hair-trigger now..."
Kennedy	"Pssht, like we have reason to be," Kennedy said dryly. They had every reason ever to be, of course, and the look she gave him said she knew that. The look she shot toward the front door... said a different version of the same thing. "Besides, we get another Slayer in the mix soon. That's good, right?"
Xander	Xander scratched the bridge of his nose. "Good... might not be exactly the word to use when you're talking about Faith."
Kennedy	"I know, I know. She's supposed to be the bad Slayer," Kennedy said with a huffy sort of sigh. "Although this kinda makes me wonder about you comparing me to her."
Xander	"I did say 'minus the crazy,'" Xander pointed out after taking a second to remember what she was talking about.
Kennedy	"Well, there's that," Kennedy conceded. "So thanks for that." She drummed her fingers on the table for a moment. "So I know why I'm all on edge today, but what's your excuse?"
Xander	"You mean aside from the apocalypse and the escaped convict--" Whose two most recent encounters with Xander had involved trying to strangle him and using Buffy's mouth to insult his sexual stamina, with a far-too-short coma in between. "--currently speeding toward us? At, okay, two miles under the speed limit if Willow's driving, but anyway, why're you on edge?" See how pillowfight dreams did not make their way into that reply at any time? Xander would've pointed it out for the smooth-cred if that wouldn't have ruined the effect.
Kennedy	"Well, see above re: apocalypse." Kennedy scowled, poked a green pen at her notebook, and exhaled noisily. "And the waiting for it. And the two miles under the speed limit. So, basically, everything?" Pillowfight dreams would've gotten a pen tossed at him, too, if he'd brought that up. Just saying. "It's like... we all know stuff's gonna go down eventually. The 'eventually' is where the crazy-making comes in."
Xander	Xander nodded, knowing that feeling all too well. "Welcome to spring in Sunnydale, when the earth shakes, the dead rise, the chickens come home to roost, and you always know it's coming -- just not anything useful like where or how or when." After a momentary frown, he added, "Except it'll probably be a Tuesday."
Kennedy	"Well, that narrows it down," Kennedy drawled, scowling. "Damn, I really wish I'd thought to shake other you down for details. Stupid hindsight." Also the assumption that he'd remember clearly enough to give her those kinds of details, but... details.
Xander	"Details? On what, the black ops outfit? 'cause on reflection if we're talking like--" The first pause? Just checking to make sure Andrew was out of earshot before saying, "-- Dick Rage black ops, not ninja stuff, that actually sounds kind of cool." Xander, you read a comic about a guy named Dick Rage. Read, hell. It's on your pull list. Look at your life. Look at your choices. The second pause was not for looking at his life and his choices. It was for the blinking. "Wait, other me already went through this crap and came out the other side?"
Kennedy	"Nerd reference went right over my head." Kennedy couldn't help giving him a mild look of mostly-playful disgust at that. The blinking got a thoughtful head-tilt out of her, and a pause of her own to chew on her lower lip. "Apparently. I mean, he already knew who I was." Which did not, she realized, address the issue of whether she made it out of this. Damn. She should've asked about that, too. 20/20, her ass; hindsight was bionically enhanced. "All I know is, he said I'd end up here. And the thing about you remembering to duck..."
Xander	"If somebody goes for my--" Dick Rage. Dick Rage and his agent of SHEATH uniform. Xander slowly lifted a hand to touch his eyelid. The wrong eyelid, not that he could know that, but at least he should get some cred for finally realizing his own hindsight... had some depth perception issues. "He was missing his eye?"
Kennedy	Kennedy, with a slightly uncomfortable grimace, nodded. "It... was a pretty cool looking eyepatch?" There had been something in that conversation, too, about not taking the last of the Hot Pockets, but she didn't remember that now. Shame. It would've saved them several fits of whining from Andrew if she had.
Xander	Xander didn't say anything for a minute. A kind of long minute. Really, the expression on his face spoke for itself anyway, but he did finally follow that up with, "Well, plus side, I'm not so worried about Faith or the plumbing now. Thanks. Really."
Kennedy	"You're serious, right?" She had to ask; she didn't know him that well that she could tell right off, considering how good he was at finding ways to work jokes into bad situations. "'cause if so, I mean... hey. No problem."
Xander	"Serious as a really funny heart attack." Good luck with figuring anything out from that answer, Kennedy. Especially considering Xander didn't even know for sure whether he should thank her or not.
Kennedy	If there was some kind of etiquette guidebook for these things, like Emily Post's Guide to Handling Hints From Alternate Future You, it was... probably in the Fandom library. So a fat lot of good it would do any of them. "Right." Zero clue whatsoever how to take that answer, which was a nice reminder that she was still hovering somewhere on the periphery of this group; Kennedy gave him a noncommittal nod. "The more you know, all that."

***

Dawn	"Uh-hunh... uh-hunh.... Okay." Dawn's face was pale as she listened, and she nervously toyed with the phone cord. "Got it. See you guys soon." She hung up, then folded her arms and shivered. "That was Willow. She's at the hospital."
Kennedy	"She's what?" Nearly knocking her chair over when she jumped out of it was the furthest thing in the world from playing it cool, but was Kennedy supposed to play it cool on a line like that? "Jesus! What happened? She's okay, right?"
Dawn	Dawn startled, then shook herself, looking almost guilty. "She's fine, yeah. Sorry. She's there with Faith." She bit her lip. "Who's also okay, but the girl they found on the road really, really isn't."
Kennedy	Kennedy calmed herself, a sheepish expression crossing her face for a moment at her own freakout, then leaned back against the edge of the table. "Another Potential?" she guessed, biting her lip. "Or just... random vamp victim?" She'd like to hope it was the latter. That'd be nice. Lots less ominous.
Dawn	"A Potential. Lying in the road, I guess." Dawn shuddered. "Someone got knife-happy on her and then left her, and Willow and Faith almost hit her with the car."
Kennedy	Yeah, so much for that hope. "That sounds like a pretty typical welcome-back-to-Sunnydale the way things are going lately." Kennedy grimaced. She couldn't even be pouty about this, not when one of "their" girls was out there injured. "Good thing they found her, though. God. Does Buffy know yet?"
Dawn	"No, she's out patrolling. With Spike." Things were weird on that whole front. But Dawn let her tone be most of the comment. "She should be back pretty soon, though." She made a face. "Before Faith gets here, I hope."
Kennedy	"'cause that'll be fun, right?" Kennedy asked dryly. It didn't take a genius to tell there was all kinds of tension there. Still, she couldn't help a faint smile on Spike's behalf. "Think they're going to be there a while? At the hospital?"
Dawn	"Since the new girl's in surgery, yeah. Willow said she thought they'd better stay and see how she was going to be." Dawn grimaced. "And probably make sure she doesn't get attacked there too, while she's out cold and totally vulnerable." She grumbled under her breath. "We could just leave Faith there to deal with it."
Kennedy	"That'd be cool," Kennedy mused. "I mean, not like Willow couldn't handle it, 'cause hi, badass witch, totally in demand and all, but, y'know. Faith. Slayer." Because anyone believed that was her real reasoning.
Dawn	Dawn gave her a 'who are you trying to kid?' smirk, and said, "And she owes us a lot of saves for all the evil stuff she did. I don't care if she is all reformed. New lipstick for the stuff of Mom's she swiped and Slayer duty for all the other crap she pulled." Like the punchings, scarings, knifings, body-stealings, and other completely Evil Villain behavior. But somehow missing Mom was mixed up in that. It sucked that Mom was gone, and Faith wasn't. Harsh but true. And Faith probably didn't even get that.
Kennedy	Kennedy just raised both eyebrows back at her, as if she knew perfectly well that she wasn't fooling anyone but also didn't care, because this was literally the first time since she'd arrived that she'd spent more than, like, a day away from Willow and could you blame a girl for getting withdraw-y about it when they'd just gotten back on non-shaky ground? "Actually I was just thinking, you know. Slayer," she clarified pointedly. Whatever Dawn and Buffy's issues were with Faith, she wasn't getting into that; there were too many half-formed grudges to be had around here as it was, without adding more to the list. She'd let the kid slide on the issue of the lipstick, though. Grief was a weird thing, as she was still learning on a semi-regular basis. "...kinda want to see her, though. Faith, I mean. Been a while."
Dawn	"What's the other one like?" Dawn was starting to get used to Kennedy knowing whole other versions of people, but it never stopped being as fascinating as it was annoying. Hard to lord it over someone who knew stuff you didn't, and that was the only edge she had over the army of Potentials, some days. But still... it kind of gave her hope, too. That things could work out.
Kennedy	Kennedy's superpower, clearly, was finding ways to annoy people without even trying. "I remember she was a pretty vicious fighter," she recalled, leaning her chair back on its rear legs. "Didn't really get much of a chance to get to know her outside of class, but--" She shrugged. "She didn't treat me like... I don't know." A poser or something, but Kennedy didn't care to chance Dawn's Little-Sister wrath by complaining about Buffy in front of her. "She was kinda serious about making sure we learned our stuff, but she had way too much fun surprising us with some messed-up combat scenarios in class sometimes. It was pretty cool." A quick grin, then: "I got to TA for that class. Best TA gig I ever had." Feel free to laugh, Dawn. Wasn't like Kennedy ever acted like a serious academic.
Dawn	Dawn snorted at the idea of anything less than translating Urdu as academics. But grudgingly had to concede that it sounded like that Faith at least knew how to teach what she knew. "How old was she, do you know?" She scowled. "She's not someone you 'get to know' unless she decides she wants your boyfriend or best friend. The one here, anyway."
Kennedy	"Older. Twenty-five or something," Kennedy guessed. The boyfriend-stealing thing had so not been a concern, though she briefly wondered how much the other Faith had known Tara, if at all. So if it was any consolation, Dawn, Kennedy was right there with you when it came to people knowing things she didn't. "Didn't really ask. Look, I don't really get why you guys are that hard on her, but all I know is that she had my back." Okay, she kind of got it; a different Faith had tortured Wesley. "I get she did some messed-up stuff, but..." She blew out a breath. "That's just my take, okay?"
Dawn	"Maybe she'll change some more in another three years or so then." Dawn scowled. "She didn't hold you and your mom hostage. Or try to kill your sister. Or go all evil on you after your mom invited her over for Christmas. And then blow everything off without even a 'see ya' or a postcard." Clenching her fists, Dawn said, "First rule of Evil Recovery is saying you won't do it again. Second rule is meaning it. Third rule is be ready anyway." 'Cause Angel, and Spike, and Willow... they did messed-up stuff after they said they were sorry. And she cared about the last two, but Dawn was still holding grudges, too.
Kennedy	Kennedy shut her eyes for a moment and sighed. "Or how about we try and give them a chance, huh?" she asked, more defensive than anything; this was poking at the remnants of her lingering trust issues about Willow and magic. "You know we need all the help we can get here." She ran a hand through her hair. "Not... not saying we shouldn't be ready. But being all accusing right up front isn't gonna help." She didn't exactly expect Dawn to listen to her.
Dawn	"That is giving them a chance." Dawn glared at Kennedy, irritated. "Not giving them a chance would be not letting them inside city limits. Or arresting or slaying them on sight. Or telling every Potential who hasn't met Faith that she's a skank-ho-psycho who'll stab them. Or all the stories that Spike used to tell me when we were BFF's." She scowled. See, this was why Watchers were cranky! They were the only ones who remembered history!
Kennedy	Kennedy was dating a girl who'd tried to kill her out of guilt after their first kiss. Arguably, her judgment could be called into question very easily on this point. "Well, nice to see we're all being generous here," she snorted. "Just don't go telling the girls all the horror stories, all right? They've got enough freaking them out already." It'd be nice if someone made sure Andrew got this memo, but no...
Dawn	Dawn gave her a dirty look, and said, "Oh sure, like I want that on my conscience." Hey, she was not mentioning Chloe. Or Annabelle. "I'm sharing my room with four other girls and my bathroom with too many more to count. I am plenty generous."
Kennedy	Kennedy appreciated that. She'd had both of those things rubbed in enough already. "Also you haven't hit me with a shovel yet," she felt compelled to point out. "Which is appreciated."
Dawn	"Thank you! I deserve that credit." Dawn grumbled, then decided, "If there's going to be more formerly evil people here, we need more chocolate. To withhold from them. I'm making brownies."
Kennedy	"That'd be a lot of withholding if some of my friends were around," Kennedy informed her, half joking but with a wistful smile. Ugh. You'd think the fighting-evil business would be less confusing when it came to how to deal with evil. Nope, completely the opposite. "...but since I've never been evil, do I get a brownie?"
Dawn	"Hmmmmmm." Dawn grinned, mood lightening a little. "Only if you're the one to keep Andrew out of the kitchen. He gets to fight the girls for his share." ...who said Dawn wasn't evil, though?

***

Having been in the dining room the whole time, Kennedy had been totally privy to the super tension-fraught encounter that started the moment Faith set foot in the house. Given both Buffy and Dawn's reactions when they'd found out that she knew a different Faith, Kennedy guessed she shouldn't be surprised, but...

They already had a vampire, a former "supervillain" who'd murdered his best friend, an erstwhile vengeance demon, and a girl who'd gone evil and tried to end the world living under this roof. How was it any different for Faith? She didn't get that. Maybe she had to have been there.

She waited until Buffy headed upstairs and Dawn stalked off, probably to help Giles scrounge up some bedding from wherever the hell they scrounged it up these days, and boldly strode out into the foyer.

"Yo. So you're Faith, huh?"

If she was going to be part of this thing, someone should make her feel welcome. Right? Plus she totally knew her. Sort of. So she could take that liberty.

Faith	Fucking Sunnydale. It wasn't where Faith would pick to spend the end of the world. She would've been fine back in prison. Fuck, she liked prison. She'd gone to get her head straightened out. Learned meditation, got her shit together. Prison had been pretty good to her. She'd crashed a window for one reason: Angel. Back when she'd gone off the rails, Angel had stuck his neck out for her. He'd had every reason in the world not to. She'd poisoned him, carved up his friends, and he had still refused to kill her. He said he thought there was something worth saving in her. She still didn't know if he was right about that. What Faith did know was that Angel had needed her, so she had gone fugitive and nearly gotten herself killed bringing him back from the edge. Fair was fair. She wasn't clear on why that meant she had to spend yet another apocalypse in Sunnydale, but fuck it. Here she was. Maybe this time she could be one of the good guys. So far, it seemed to be less fun. Especially with the parade of shit she was getting. Faith's glance flickered over the girl standing in front of her. Late teens. A little young to be a Scooby. Might be one of Dawn's friends. Probably a Potential. "The only and only," she said breezily. "You a fan, or we got some beef I don't know about?" Best to have that out of the way now. Before someone else suckerpunched her, Buffy.
Kennedy	Wow. Definitely younger than the Faith she'd met, but that was actually a little bit awesome. "Hey." Kennedy held her hands up. "No beef here. Guess you could say I'm a fan-- I've met you before. Different you, it's a whole big thing, long story. Hell, they kind of give me crap around here for thinking you were pretty cool." See, no suckerpunching here. She shrugged one shoulder and leaned against the wall, feeling the need to project a little extra swagger. "So this is me playing welcome wagon. Someone had to."
Faith	Faith cracked her neck, trying to get a read on the girl. She'd be less suspicious of someone trying to punch her again. Nobody ever just offered the welcome wagon for no good reason. Not to her, anyway. Fuck, she needed a cigarette. Shame she couldn't light up here. Buffy'd stroke out if she tried right in her mom's foyer. "I don't do autographs," Faith said, angling her shoulders. "And I wouldn't say it too loud. I pissed in Buffy's cornflakes a few too many times. Just so we're clear, you're not rah-rah-ing the whole evil spree, right? Because I'm kinda over that." Last thing she needed was a groupie wannabe who wanted tips on how to go dark. "Can't place the face," she admitted. "You some outside Scooby, or did I stab one of your boyfriends?" Shit like that got blurry after a while. She blamed the coma.
Kennedy	Kennedy shrugged again. "Heard you tortured a friend of mine. He says I'm supposed to be careful around you. Starting to lose track of who doesn't get that disclaimer around here now, though, so why should you get the special cold-shoulder treatment?" She liked Wesley. She did, really. But whatever lines of good-versus-bad she'd had left after two years in Fandom had gotten even more nebulous in the past four months. Plus you could argue that she should be careful around Willow, too. So. Her expression turned rueful. "Guess intros should be a thing, huh? Kennedy. I've only been here since December, but I... sorta help train the other girls. And just pretend I'm giving you a hard time about leaving my girlfriend on hospital duty."
Faith	Tortured a friend? Yeah, that was awkward. Sunnydale relationships tended to get all screwed up like that. "Let's keep it simple," Faith said. "Any shit you heard, I probably did. If it sounds bad, it probably was. I'm doing the redemption kick but I burned a lot of bridges on my way out." Understatement. She was cracking her neck again -- shouldn't Slayer mystic power shit keep her from getting a sore neck on long car rides? -- when 'girlfriend' got her attention. "Didn't mention she had a new girl," she smirked. "Sorry, junior, someone had to stay in case the wannabe woke up. You could always show up and surprise her." The leer that went with that spoke volumes.
Kennedy	What wasn't awkward around here any more? Freaking Fandom. It was just as culpable as Sunnydale. "Got that. Other you wasn't exactly shy about it, either," Kennedy assured her. "But I don't know enough to have any bridges burned yet, I guess. And I don't care. The more kickass we have around here, the better." As for the leer? That was a language Kennedy spoke pretty well herself, and the smirk she gave Faith in response said as much. "Yeah, it's sort of a new-ish thing. Don't tempt me-- I'd go, but someone has to look after the girls here." She rolled her eyes as she said it; she didn't feel like Buffy was doing the best job of staying in touch with the troops. Also she was kind of proprietary about the Potentials. "Oh god, I really have gotten responsible. What's up with that?"
Faith	Something in the way Kennedy said that struck Faith. She cased the room again (exits, weapons, points of entry, she couldn't stop doing that sweep even if she wanted to) but this time, she looked at the girls. Not their position to the door, but their faces, their body language. Shit, they were so young. They looked young. The girl bleeding out on the road had just been a kid. They looked fucking scared. They were potentials -- they could be slayers, and they'd kick ass at it, she had no doubt. But shit, they were still reeling from all of this. Will had given her the bare bones update in the car, and that was great, and this was some kind of a war. B was playing general. Had she ever stopped to think about her troops? How they were handling this? This was sick. These kids needed ... more than just rations and training. Something. Right. Like she had the least idea how to help them. The last thing these kids needed was a wanted killer playing big sister. Or den mom. Faith didn't make brownies or host sing-alongs. "I can hold down the fort if you want to bail," she said, pulling herself back to the conversation with some effort. "Keep the inmates from burning down the asylum. Wait, who the fuck's other-me? Some vampire evil twin?" Fucking Sunnydale. Seriously.
Kennedy	"No vampire evil twin," Kennedy promised, holding both hands up; it was easy enough to take that in stride, having gotten the same question from Xander and Willow. "Just like... you from a few years in the future. Where I went to high school, it's no Hellmouth, but it came packaged with plenty of weird of its own. Like how I've met different versions of, like, half Buffy's friends." With a quick, casual eyeroll she added, "Which is its own kind of complication, but let's not get into that." She caught the way Faith was looking around, though, and a little of the vibe that went with it. "They're good kids. And they're probably getting the riot act read to 'em right now about not being too nice to you. Just like I'm gonna get it for heading out by myself at night, so... I'll stick around. For now." There was a distinct note of sulkiness there, but getting yelled at for taking off after dark was an unpleasant enough prospect to counterbalance the appeal of going. Which was a total drag.
Faith	Oooooooookay. Maybe Faith was still hopped up on that mystical poison from before. Except then this wannabe would probably have six eyes and two of them would spew acid and shit, instead of looking ... kind of annoyed by all the weirdness. The way most people did when they got sick of Sunnydale's shit. "So ... there's other schools out there, just as fucked up as this place?" Faith asked, raising an eyebrow. "I heard Cleveland's got a Hellmouth. Or are you, like, the resident crazy chick and that's why you wanna be besties?" Face it, that would make more sense right about now. Who else would give good psycho cred, in this house? She huffed and went back to looking at the rookies. "Sounds like there were less rules in prison," she said. "I'll try not to get any of the girls hooked on smack, but ... you know. Bad influence. Make sure they stay three feet away just in case." Should be great, being the resident leper of the house. At least she'd get to kill some vamps. Leave it to Buffy to make the end of the world no fun.
Kennedy	"Just the one, far as I know. Different kind of fucked up, though," Kennedy allowed. "It's in Maryland. Not a Hellmouth, just some... what was it Giles called it? Interdimensional nexus thing. I know, I know, sounds totally sci-fi but that place was crazy." She grinned briefly. "I loved it there, though. No shortage of stuff to fight." One eyebrow arched up and she noted, "Y'know, they keep telling me I remind them of you a little. I'm actually cool with that."
Faith	"Don't ... really know any of those words," Faith admitted. "Sounds trippy." Intersomething nexium. What the fuck was that? Was it evil? Was that next on the list? If they even made it out of this one. Well, she wasn't the type to settle down and have grandkids anyway. Might as well go out with a bang. She shot a glance back at the other dark-haired girl. "Considering the people it's coming from, it's not meant as a compliment," she said. "So are you a shit-disturber, or did you win Most Likely to Haul Off and Stab a Guy?" That'd make for a pretty boss trophy.
Kennedy	"Tchah. Totally not a compliment, but I'm taking it as one anyway," Kennedy declared, like the brash little idiot she could be. "I ended up at that school 'cause I got kicked out of, like, two boarding schools before that. Plus I got accused of being way too stake-happy once, does that count?" ...it wasn't evil. As much as it seemed like it at times.
Faith	Okay, Faith had her own copycat. One who seemed kinda kick-ass. That bit was pretty rockin'. "I'm willing to count it," she grinned. "Please, like picking a fight's a bad thing. That's the whole slayer gig right there. You get super powers and you go kill bad guys. If you're stake-happy, you're doing it right." Kennedy should probably not take life advice from the slayer who went to prison. "I could use something to fight, right about now," she added with a sigh. "I been cooped up too long. Took out a vamp in the graveyard, but it was over too fast. A girl's got needs." She had more needs than that, but prospects looked dim on that front. Meta for Mini-Me here was taken, B had a stick up her ass, and the wannabes were jailbait. Giles had given her a death glare when she'd strolled in, and the last time she'd tried with Xander, she'd nearly strangled him, so he probably wasn't up for another go.
Kennedy	"Yeah, the privacy situation around here isn't really helpful with some needs, if you know what I mean--" this, with a dramatic put-upon sigh-- "but if all of Buffy's big speeches are for real, maybe you won't have to wait too long to fight something." Though Kennedy was getting to the point where she suspected the speeches were delaying the slay-gratification. Seriously. "But see, this is what I'm saying. We're supposed to be fighters, but we've been sitting on our asses all this time," she went on, this time with a definite note of complaint. "Last time something went down at the school, Buffy didn't even take us along. We're training and getting all the speeches about how we need to be ready, and... what? I know I'm good for it, but how are they ever gonna know unless they get into things?"
Faith	They weren't. They were just going to hang around and psych themselves up and keep missing the show. They were potentials, so they had to have that bloodlust in them somewhere, right? Faith shrugged. "Fuck it. Wanna break curfew and go stake something?" See? This was why Kennedy shouldn't listen to Faith. Faith wasn't so great with things like rules. Or consequences, or ... well, it was a long list.
Kennedy	This was the sort of thing that got people punched in the face, but it sounded good. Things like consequences didn't really tend to bother Kennedy, who generally figured she could buy her way out of them if she had to. (Not so much an option here, but habits and all.) "Seriously?" The way Kennedy grinned at that used to be an instant ticket to exasperating Constance. "I could so be down with that... but I kinda want to stick around in case Willow calls again." She was sort of whipped. It took some of the edge off the badassery.
Faith	Either Faith had been in prison too long, or there was something almost cute about her wannabe being whipped. Maybe both. "All right," she said breezily, not bothering to hide a smug grin. "You ever get your balls back from your girl, gimme a holler and we can go tear shit up." She reached into her pockets for her pack of smokes. B may not let her light up in the foyer, but there was a basement around here somewhere. Faith just had to remember where it was, and she could indulge her nicotine craving in peace. She hesitated, one hand on her pack, and turned back to Kennedy. "You might wanna keep this between us," she said. "The whole, us getting along, whatever? Willow's not really my biggest fan, either." Just a heads-up, in case the other girl wanted to hang onto her sex life. Since she might be the only one around here getting any.
Kennedy	Ahahahaha. Yeah, that wasn't happening. Yet. Hey, she'd held out longer; she could hold out now. "Hey," Kennedy protested mildly, drawing herself up like she wanted to prove she had... well. That metaphorical... thing. Wasn't like she cared if she was whipped, anyway. Nor did she particularly care, in principle, if anyone approved of the people she chose to hang out with. It'd been a lifelong trend. Why stop now? (Though some of the fun did go out of it without the prospect of Constance's disapproval-face.) Still, she nodded. "On the down-low. Check." That was a little bit reluctant; it didn't jive with her whole not-caring-what-anyone-thought thing. Not to mention, it begged the question of whether Faith had ever done anything to Willow, but there were enough layers of tension to deal with around here already, so Kennedy wasn't eager to add one more to the mix. "Just, for what it's worth, I'm glad you're here."
Faith	Faith waited a few moments for the punchline before it struck her that one wasn't coming. For whatever reason, the girl was actually ... serious. She had no idea what to do with that. It always made her awkward, gestures of ... friendship or ... sincerity or whatever the fuck. At least when people punched you, you knew where you stood with them. Compliments were like some joke you weren't in on. She shrugged, feeling naked with her layer of bravado peeled back. "Yeah, well," she said. It hung in the air oddly before she dismissed it with a hand. "I got nowhere better to be, so ... whatever." Someone else might have said thank you. Faith just really needed that fucking cigarette now.
Kennedy	It had taken years for Kennedy to get what a genuine thank you was, so she got it. In the world she'd grown up in, it had always been a formality, something you were expected to say but didn't tend to mean, because whatever you got that prompted it was something you were entitled to in the first place. "Or something, right?" she asked with an easy grin. "You probably want some time to settle in or something. Grab a few minutes of quiet while you can, 'cause believe me, they're pretty hard to come by."
Faith	Faith didn't scare easy. She'd seen the end of the world -- okay, she'd missed it, what with being in a coma, but she'd almost died a couple of times, and the slayer gig meant the apocalypse was always just around the corner. Plus, a few years in prison. So Hellmouth, fine, ubervamps, great, psycho preachers, they went down just like everything else. But as Kennedy's words sunk in, they sent a cold chill down Faith's spine. She was ... going to be ... living in this house. Filled with dozens of potential slayers. Estrogen central. With the bubblegum brigade of teenage hormones and ... Faith stared in barely-disguised revulsion at the other room, where one girl was tittering and several others were chirping up to agree with her. She didn't want the kids dropping dead, but holy shit, she also didn't want to sit around listening to the motherfucking slumber party. Or the bitchy drama about booooooys or who stole who's lip gloss or ... Faith grabbed her lighter like it was a lifeline. She was going to have that cigarette now, Buffy's foyer be damned. B should be happy she wasn't torching the place. "I hate this fucking town," she snarled, figuring this was as good a line as any for a cranky exit. Maybe there was a shed out back she could sleep in. Maybe she could sleep on the porch. What it lacked in vampire protection, it might make up for in soundproofing.

[[nfi/nfb, ooc-okay, ad nauseam. part 1 of 5 today. based on btvs 7x18, "dirty girls." preplayed with the resplendent needsaparrot, the estimable regretiz4suckas as inthekeyofme, and the magnificent angelo_wings as neverfaithful. sorry for the upcoming post spam today, y'all. only one more week of this, promise.]]

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[ready-foraction.livejournal.com]

["I'm so scared, Xander. I'm so young. There's just so much I haven't done, so much I need to do. It's like... I never had a real boyfriend, you know? I've never been with a man. I could die tomorrow, and I've never been with a man."]

[brat_inslayage]

[[it's lacking something without the next bit of the scene. anybody have a colleen journal? >.>]]