Chapter Thirteen

Three Years Later......

The bar was a dive, and that was a kind and generous description. It was smoke filled and dark, and it was anyone's guess when it had last been cleaned. But the alcohol wasn't watered down, the glasses were spotless, and it wasn't a place anyone would come looking for anybody, not unless they were idiots with a death wish.

There was only one woman in the entire bar. The joint was way too seedy for anyone remotely female to take such a risk, but the woman seated alone in the corner with a half empty bottle of whiskey in front of her wasn't being harassed, not in the slightest. She was a regular now and they all knew what she was capable of, they'd seen it firsthand.

When she'd strolled in nearly two months ago, she'd seemed like easy pickings. She stepped up to the bar covered in dust from the road, and ordered a bottle of whiskey. The bartender wasn't a bad guy, and he tried to warn her:

"Best you just leave. There's place a few miles up the road where ladies are..."

She cut him off, and the look in her eye made him shut up.

"Maybe you oughta go there then...after you gimme what I asked for."

He quickly sat a bottle in front of her, and she tossed some money down. When she turned to find a table, two men were standing right behind her.

"You sure are a pretty one."

"Yeah, I know."

The other man took a small step closer to her:

"But you got too many clothes on. We wanna see your titties...to start with."

"First of all, they're all grown up, so call'em ‘tits'. Second of all, they ain't as big as yours, fat ass."

She tried to go around them, but they both sidestepped into her path.

"I got something bigger in my pants for you."

"Tell ya what, why don't you give it to him? Looks to me like ya both swing that way anyways."

They grabbed her then, and the fat one was outraged:

"Bitch, we're gonna teach you some respect!"

That was the last thing he said. The whiskey bottle shattering upside his head knocked him out cold. His buddy had a tight grip on her other arm, but when she grasped his hand, the sound of his bones breaking could be heard throughout the suddenly quiet bar.

She twisted his arm up behind his back and flung him onto the pool table. He hit hard, but not as hard as his head hit the racked pool balls. He quickly joined his friend in the land of the unconscious.

A large and extremely fit man approached her, a switchblade snicking out to its full length as he got closer:

"That's my brother you're fucking with."

"Not ‘fucking' with anybody. I don't do pigs, and from what I've seen of your family, well you're all shit outta luck."

"How ‘bout I carve my name on your ass before I fuck it?"

"How ‘bout I cut your dick off ‘fore I stuff it up your ass?"

He lunged at her and she kicked him in the balls, taking his knife from him as he bent over. Before she had time to examine it, she tossed it into the shoulder of another man as he rose from his seat at the bar, a length of chain in his hand.

"Listen up, I don't want trouble. All I want's a drink and a table to drink it at."

Three men stood up, obviously they did want trouble and were determined to get it.

She kicked the guy still holding onto his balls right in the head, knocking him out before she shoved him out of the way. Her own knife appeared in her hand as if by magic.

"Then come on ahead. Ya wanna die here in a shithole, be my guest."

They hesitated, and one of them sat down. He was clearly the smart one. The other two charged her, and she stood calmly and let them come. She slipped past the first one's punch, and her knife flicked out. He went down screaming, his ear beside him on the floor.

The second one stopped where he was, his face showing nothing but shock and terror. He met her eyes and backed up quickly, then as an afterthought dragged his friend backward by the collar. She kicked the ear after them:

"Might wanna head to the hospital. Not sure if they can stick it back on or not."

They stumbled out the door, ear in hand, and she heard the car start up as they peeled out.

Everyone's eyes were now back on their own table and the bartender placed another bottle of whiskey on the bar in front of her, and this time he added a glass.

"Here. On the house."

She reached down and grabbed the wallet from Mr. Kicked in the Balls, tossing several bills onto the bar top.

"Didn't ask for any freebies."

She headed for the table in the corner, and the four men already seated there scrambled to get out of her way. She took the seat that put her back to the wall and poured herself a drink. It didn't take too long for the bar to get back to normal.

That all seemed like forever ago, and tonight she was just tired and ready to move on. She'd finally taken care of the last nest, and now she considered herself free to go. All she wanted was a place where she could be invisible, a place where nobody looked at her twice, but no matter where she went, she couldn't seem to find it. There was always something to slay, always someone who wanted to challenge her, and so she kept moving.

She poured herself another drink as the door opened and two men came in. They looked wildly out of place as they scanned the interior, and she sat still, hoping they'd go away. She wasn't easy to spot, it was dark in her corner, but the younger of the two finally managed to locate her.

The two idiots with a death wish headed over and she quickly downed her drink, trying to prepare herself for what was coming. They sat in the chairs across from her without asking, they already knew what her answer would be.

"Well, to what do I owe this big fucking hassle?"

"Hello, Faith."

"Giles, Xander. Now we got that outta the way, how ‘bout we cut to the part where I tell ya to fuck off and you leave me alone."

"I'm afraid it's not quite that simple."

She poured herself another drink and picked up her glass.

"Trust me, I'm gonna make it that simple."

Giles reached over and yanked the glass from her hand, hurling it against the wall. The bottle followed close behind.

Everyone in the bar turned to look at him, but no one said or did anything, not when the newcomers were sitting with her.

"Nice dramatic gesture, but touch my stuff again..."

Her eyes spoke the rest of that sentence, but Giles didn't back off.

"Are you threatening me, Faith?"

"No Giles, I'm promising you."

"Ah, so I see you're still wallowing in self-pity then."

Her eyes showed just how angry she was, but her voice stayed level:

"Say what the fuck ya came here to say and then get away from me. Self-control's not what it used to be."

Xander spoke up before the tension could escalate:

"So Faith, how have you been?"

"Great, couldn't be better. What do ya want?"

Giles removed his glasses as he stared at her.

"We need you to come with us."

"Well then you're fucked, ‘cause I'm not budging."

Giles reached for her hand, but she pulled back.

"Faith, we wouldn't be here unless it was imperative that..."

"Yeah? Well I don't give a shit."

"We shan't be able to defeat this foe without your assistance."

She laughed, a short mirthless bark.

"So what do ya got now? Ten billion Slayers? Ask one of them."

Giles put his glasses back on as he leaned towards her over the table.

"Of course we considered that, but regrettably, it's not what's called for. We need the...How does one put this?"

Xander spoke up:

"We need the real McCoys, the official ‘Accept No Substitute' Slayers. Both of you."

A new bottle and glass appeared before her as the bartender arrived and departed without a word.

"I'm outta the slaying business, so run the fuck along now."

She didn't bother with the glass, tipping her head back as she swallowed an amount that would have set anyone else's throat on fire, maybe even literally.

"Wow, your eyes aren't even watering."

"Yeah Xander, gotta be a man to chug it."

She kept the bottle on her lap, far from Giles' reach.

"Faith, perhaps if you understood the gravity of the situation..."

"Think it's you who needs to understand. I don't give a shit. You got a problem? You deal with it. Got my own troubles to worry about."

She took another enormous slug and Xander wondered how she did it. He knew it wasn't a Slayer thing because Buffy got drunk on half a beer.

"I see. That's your final answer then?"

"Yeah, just as final as it gets."

Giles stood, his look one of disappointment and anger:

"I can't say it's been good to see you. It's been nothing but painful and difficult to witness how far you've taken this. You're a Slayer, Faith. The world depends on you, we depend on you, and perhaps most importantly, Buffy depends on you."

Pain flashed across her face, but it was gone so quickly, Xander wasn't sure if it'd really been there.

"Then I guess everybody put their money on the wrong horse."

"Yes, it certainly seems that way. Come along, Xander."

"...Bye, Faith."

They walked out, and as they went, Faith saw four guys get up and follow along behind them. She sighed and took another swig of her whiskey. Giles and Xander weren't her responsibility, they knew the risks when they came looking for her. Plus, they could take care of themselves...Then three more guys went out the door.

When she got there, Giles and Xander were back to back trying to hold off their attackers. Giles had what looked like a wicked bruise on his cheekbone and Xander's nose was bleeding steadily.

"Hey boys, this a private party or can anybody join in?"

Two of the men held their hands up in surrender and headed back inside, but the other five spread out in front of her.

"Nothin' to do with you, bitch."

"Gotta disagree."

"They're not friends of yours."

Faith smiled:

"Not for you to say. Point is, I don't want'em fucked with."

"Well, we're sick of taking orders from you."

Faith took a sip of her whiskey.

"Only order I gave ya is ‘don't screw with me'. Now I'm includin' them."

"Fuck you, bitch."

"Not even in your dreams."

She tossed her bottle with painful accuracy, and one of her opponents went down, out of the fight for good. She leapt into the air, landing behind the four of them and placing herself in front of Giles and Xander. Her knife came out as she issued her last warning:

"I don't want this. Just go back inside and it's over."

"When we go back in, we're gonna be dragging your body behind us."

It took her less than a minute to disable her foes, and the last one she left standing was the big mouth who'd gotten them all into the mess they were now in.

Faith was behind him, her hand yanking his head back by his hair and her knife caressing his neck.

"Got somethin' else to say?"

"N...No...Please..."

"Told ya to just head in, but no, you had to be a big shot."

"I'm sorry. I won't..."

She dug the knife in a little deeper than shallow, then leisurely brought it up to carve a jagged line down the length of his cheek.

"I ever see you again, I'm gonna slit your throat and watch while you bleed to death. Understand?"

"Yes."

"Now haul it."

She shoved him and he went sprawling in the dirt. He staggered to his feet and hopped onto his motorcycle, wasting no time as he made his escape. In just moments he was a distant speck on the horizon, nothing but forgotten.

Giles handed Xander a handkerchief to help staunch the flow of blood:

"Thank you, Faith."

"Yeah thanks, Slay Girl. We were seconds from..."

"Whatever. There's the road."

Giles looked resigned, but Xander was nothing but confused.

"But doesn't this mean you're coming with us?"

"No. Just means I didn't think you deserved to die here."

"But Faith..."

"Xander, let's just go now."

Giles grabbed him firmly by the arm, leading him to their car as he continued protesting:

"...we need your help. We're dealing with..."

"I don't care."

She stood there unmoving as they walked the length of the parking lot to reach Giles' car and then she lit a cigarette.

She couldn't wait to get out of this shitty little town, she was definitely going to leave tonight. The stars were out, the moon was bright, and there was a perfect breeze blowing. She was going to ride all night until she got lost, so lost she'd be just some girl roaring down the highway on her bike.

The headlights came on as Xander tried to ease the car out of the parking space, the wheels squealing slightly as he turned them hard to the left. He straightened them back out and accelerated slowly, dodging potholes the size of the Grand Canyon as he headed for the exit.

She watched, then sighed, flicking her cigarette into the dirt. She shook her head in disgust, walked the five steps to her motorcycle, then used her knife to cut the strings holding her duffel bag in place on the back of her bike. She casually slung it over her shoulder, then tossed the keys onto the seat and strode out into the middle of the exit, right into the path of the convertible. Xander had to slam on the brakes to avoid hitting her.

Without a word she hopped into the backseat, and Xander grinned as he hit the gas. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes. The wind felt good as it blew against her face and through her hair. Maybe if she tried hard enough she could pretend she was roaring down the highway on her bike, lost and alone, and not Faith, the Vampire Slayer.

Next