Slayerinthecity: New York City, here I come
-- June 20th, 2003 - a month after the Sunnydale Hellmouth was destroyed --
It's about half past midnight, and I'm out on the balcony on my hotel room, craving a cigarette and a moment away from all the little wannabes. The girls are getting settled in for the night, so I'm cool with catching myself some alone time without some kid asking me if I got a nickel for the candy machine or an extra hairbrush. I just gotta remind them that -- Hello? Wanted fugitive here. Really not gonna be sporting much in the accessory or cash department when I'm on the run from the boys in blue. B's the chick with the stash. All I've got with me are the clothes on my back and a newly purchased pack of smokes. I'm a big fan of the Marlboro.
Man, after Red's little comparison, every time I light up, I get to thinking about Wes and the rad way he busted me out of the slam. Damn, that was hot! We made one Hell of a team together. When he wasn't trying to bait naughty Faith out of her shell, that is. Kind of puts a damper on the redemption gig when you've got your former wuss of a watcher calling you a rabid dog, you know? Can't really say I blame the guy though; it's what I needed to get the job done. Watcher Man was just doing what he thought was right -- greater good and all that. Though I gotta say, stabbing that girl? Not cool. Nowhere near being okay in my book. Boy sure did slip, huh?
Anyway, we're in some small middle of nowhere town near the Cali-Nevada border, trying to scrape together enough cash to keep the wannabes fed and styling while G-man figures out what to do next. Gotta admit, all this tagging along with the teamsters stuff was really starting to grate at me. I dig the girls and all, but I was never one to hang with the crowd, you know? Always been more of the loner type. And, as much as B said I was welcome to kick it with the gang, I get the feeling that yea, I earned my place among the ranks, but that don't mean anyone's thrilled about me being around. My instincts were screaming at me that it was high time I got the Hell out of dodge. Besides, after all the feminine bonding in prison? I was so over the shacking up with big groups of rowdy chicks. Kind of had my fill of that.
"I thought I'd find you out here," a voice says, interrupting me from my thoughts. The prissy male tone tells me it can only be one person.
"Giles," I turn around with a grin, flashing my teeth at the old guy. You know, for somebody old enough to be my grandpa, he was looking pretty easy on the eyes. "Come out here to bum one?"
I shove my pack out to him. I got plenty and I figure it's the least I can do after he loaned me the funds to buy a carton in the first place. Giles shakes his head though, turning down my offer with a wave of his hand. Guess the old guy isn't into blackening his lungs like me and Spike. Boy's more of the pipe type, anyway.
"No thanks," he replies gruffly, and I can almost hear the lecture coming on. "Faith, you really shouldn't -- "
" -- smoke? Yea, I know, bad for my health," I finish off for him with a smirk. "But I gotta remind you, in this line of work... what's gonna get me first? The big C or a demon on his lucky day?"
That shuts him up fast and he nods begrudgingly, putting away the lecture... for now, anyway. "I actually came out here to discuss the future with you. Or, more accurately, what your plans are now. Will you be coming with us to the Cleveland Hellmouth?"
Whoa. Is that Giles actually showing concern for me? Damn. What's the catch?
"Buffy, she... well, Buffy's decided to take Dawn and some of the girls to Europe for an unspecified period of time."
Ah, there it is. Golden girl Buffy's throwing the stake in on G-man's big Cleveland pow wow, so watcher man goes to the next best thing -- me. I can see it's really got the guy too. He's got this whole wounded puppy look to him, like he's totally bummed that the buff's finally ready to grow up and flee the nest. Offer's tempting, but I gotta stick to my guns here. I'm not really momma bear material. I mean, the last time I got put in charge? I screwed up. Big time. Got a whole mess of girls killed and everything. I'm *not* gonna be responsible for that kind of thing again. It's just me, myself, and I from here on out.
"I was kind of thinking about heading out on my own, actually," I admit with a shrug. The filter on my cig's getting dangerously close to my fingertips, so I take that as my cue to casually lean over the balcony and flick the ash away, purposely avoiding eye contact all the while. "You know, see the world. Maybe go back east. The Big Apple's lookin' pretty sweet right about now. I could do a lot of good in that city. Place has gotta be crawling with vamps."
"Well, I do suppose New York City would have quite the vampire population," Giles chuckles. Wow. He's taking this better than I thought. Man, I thought he'd start bawling over both members of the chosen two turning him down on his slayer boot camp idea. There was always Kennedy... "You'll need money though, Faith. Have you any sort of funding?"
I frown, his logic being a major bummer on my plan. "I've slummed it before, Giles. It's no big."
"Wait a moment," he says with a surprising hint of conviction humming under his words. "I know that there have been mistakes in the past, concerning both you and Buffy, and if the two of you are to go out on your own, there's no reason why you should be forced to, as you stated, 'slum it'."
"So whatcha gonna do, Giles? Rig the lotto? Rob a bank? 'Cause we're scraping down near dangerous levels of broke as it is, so where you gonna get the cash to support me and B from?"
His expression grows stony at my question, and I can't help but wonder if G-man's about to do one of the above. Man, could you imagine Giles gathering up the wannabes for a crime spree across the country? Fuckin' wild, is what it is. Or maybe he's just got some secret stash somewhere from past dirty dealings. Giles is a straight up guy, but I always got the feeling that he'd been in my shoes before. Like there was more than meets the eye with him. Buffy mentioned something about him being badass way back when.
"Well, as you may have heard, the council is no more. There are a few survivors from the explosion, mainly the ones sent out to do field work at the time. I've talked to quite a few of them and we're thinking of rebuilding the Council."
"Okay..." I say slowly and warily, so not digging the idea of a brand new Council to boss me around. "But what does all that have to do with me?"
I got a lot of bad memories about the Council, so hearing that the fuckers that tried to take me out were rebuilding it wasn't exactly good news to me. Hell, I cheered when I heard the thing went down in flames. No more Quentin Travers to worry about. Boy was the biggest pain in the ass I *ever* had to deal with. Good riddance, man. I know I'm supposed to be all repenty here, but the guy had a serious attitude problem! If he'd just listened to Angel, he'd know that I was in a bad way and was over the bad guy routine. But no, the dude was so gung ho on taking me out, that there was no way he was gonna give me a chance to buck up and own up to my actions. He was just sore that B quit the Council and was taking it out on me. Bastard.
"Well, first of all, there are going to some major changes taking place. It's been obvious for quite some time that the previous methods weren't up to par with the modern day slayer. Some of the methods were far too primitive and harmful to the girls, such as the Cruciamentum. I was hoping to take it in a more humane direction, including offering up financial support using the Council's funds to help out the slayers. Not everything was destroyed in that blast; most of the accounts are spread throughout the world in various banks to ensure their survival."
"You're gonna pay me to slay now?" I ask with an amused grin plastered across my lips. Alright, now we're talking! I could be down with getting paid as I slayed. A hundred bucks a pop for every vamp in the bag. Man, talk about a salary! I'd be rolling in riches if that was the case.
"I was thinking of it as more of an allowance, but I suppose that sums it up as well. I'll send you and Buffy a check every month to help tide you over while you find living arrangements and jobs."
Aw, man. I still gotta get a regular job too? Bummer. Beats living on the skids though, so I just nod my head and play the fuck along. New York's expensive; I could use the extra boost while I'm setting up shop. I stick out my hand, hoping he takes the hint to shake it. You never know with these Brits.
"You got yourself a deal, Watcher man."
* * * * *
-- September 15th, 2003 - New York City --
"You've got to be kidding me!" I exclaim as I take stock of the bar before me. The Meow Mix? What the Hell kind of name is that?
"Hey, you said you were in need of a job," the chick beside me points out. Yea, yea, thanks for the reminder. But this? Whatever. I'm about to turn around and haul ass back to my place when she grabs my arm. "Wait! At least come inside first! Trust me, it's a cool place. Never judge a bar by its name."
I sigh and spin back around, allowing the chick to drag me inside. Girl was right, I'd been here a month and was still living off my slayer's "allowance." It paid the bills, yea. But what about my kicks? If I wanted to look good and eat more than frozen dinners, I was gonna have to join up with the job having folks. These leather pants of mine were startin' to look wicked ratty. Damn.
"What makes you so sure they're gonna be down with hiring me on the spot?" I ask, slightly curious about what my "date" has up her sleeve. Mel's a good girl, but she's seriously naive sometimes. Unless she's got something to hold over this place. You never know with these chicks. They look all fresh faced and sweet, but underneath the sugary sweet exterior? Total badass just waiting to pounce on you. Truth is, I'm really only sleeping with her 'cause she reminded me of another blonde I used to know. I mostly drive stick, but I go for the occasional cruise on automatic. Mel here was one of my occasional cruises.
"Because I know the owner!" she giggles excitedly. "I used to work here for a while when I was trying to pay my way through college. They all loved me and I'm sure they'll love you too. They keep asking me to come back. I can't with my new job, but I can do the next best thing."
"And what's that? Finding fresh meat for the sharks?"
"Bingo," she answers. "It's totally your scene too. Now quit brooding and get that hot leather-clad ass in here!"
Girl can take charge, that's for sure. I grin and follow her in, mostly doing so just so I can stare at her ass in that miniskirt she's wearing tonight. Well, if my scene is girls, girls, girls, then Mel's got it right on the money. There's a few guys mixed in with the crowd, but this place seems to be strictly chickly.
"A lesbian bar?" I question when we're about halfway to the bar area. Okay, so I get that I'm a little butch, but I'm not a full out carpet muncher! That title goes to Sunnydale's most popular witch.
"Yea, isn't it great? It's probably the most popular dive in New York City for lesbians. We're sort of famous! And don't worry Faith, guys come in too. And since you'll probably be the only one here looking for males, you've got your pick!"
Well, I guess it wouldn't kill me to give this place a chance. I mean, if it blows, I can always walk out and a find something else. Not like I gotta sign a five year contract or something. The dive ain't half bad either. The clientele aren't too bad looking and the music's already got me hopping. They've got a good club vibe going on and none of that flowery Sarah McLachlan crap you'd expect to find in a place like this.
"Alright," I grumble after a long silence. "I'll give this place a shot."
"Cool!" she practically squeals. God, she reminds me of B. Or maybe her kid sis, she's kind of a cross between the two. "Okay, now just sit tight at the bar and I'll be right back! Don't go anywhere."
"Not about to," I roll my eyes at her retreating form and sit the fuck down.
I need a drink in the worst way. With Mel doing her thing, I figure it's about high time to do mine. I wave down a waitress and hook myself up with a bottle of Jack Daniels -- my all time favorite dude. When Mel comes back with the boss, I'm already halfway finished and grinning like a fool. Been a while since I got my drink on. The chick she brings out is a forty something butch in a pair of tight jeans and a sleeveless black top. She's got cropped brown hair and warm brown eyes and if I didn't know better, I'd say she was checking me out. Oh yea, her eyes definitely landed on the twins and stayed there for a good long while. I stick my chest out a little, just for good measure. I know how this gig works. You're only hired on the spot if you've got a nice rack.
Mel doesn't waste anymore with intros, and gets to the name game fast. "Faith, this is Katerina. Katerina, this is Faith. She's looking for a job."
We shake hands and after another quick check out of my tits, she grins at me and nods. "Call me Kat."
And you can call me hired, is what I want to say. But I bit my tongue, smile friendly, and take a swig of the Jack. "Alright, Kat. Nice little place you got here."
"Thanks," she replies and her smile widens. "So Faith, what are your plans for tomorrow?"
"Nada so far."
"Good. You can start then. Be here at 8 o'clock sharp so we can show you the ropes before we open up for the night. You know how to pour a drink?"
"'Course I do," I scoff with a look of "duh" on my face. I'm no rookie in this field. "I've played bartender before for quick cash."
"Perfect. I'll see you then, Faith. Take good care of Mel."
Kat disappears before I can say another word. Damn. Hope my get some, get gone policy doesn't get me fired quick. Mel's good in bed, but not exactly morning after material, you know? We ran into each other at a club a few nights ago. Some dude was harassing her in the back alley and I was searching out vamps when the music got dull. Ended up pummeling the wannabe boyfriend instead.
Instead of gettin' lost, Mel hung around to play a game of hero worship with me. Can't say I can complain about that, it got me free drinks for the rest of the night and a good rubdown later. Girl's a fucking genius with her tongue. Good enough that she scored herself my number and another date. I'm digging her in the now, just not real sure how long before I start craving strange dick and end up having to dump her. At least I got a job out of this. Maybe I ought to stick around more often. Everybody seems to know everybody in this city. Could have its perks, you know?
It's about half past midnight, and I'm out on the balcony on my hotel room, craving a cigarette and a moment away from all the little wannabes. The girls are getting settled in for the night, so I'm cool with catching myself some alone time without some kid asking me if I got a nickel for the candy machine or an extra hairbrush. I just gotta remind them that -- Hello? Wanted fugitive here. Really not gonna be sporting much in the accessory or cash department when I'm on the run from the boys in blue. B's the chick with the stash. All I've got with me are the clothes on my back and a newly purchased pack of smokes. I'm a big fan of the Marlboro.
Man, after Red's little comparison, every time I light up, I get to thinking about Wes and the rad way he busted me out of the slam. Damn, that was hot! We made one Hell of a team together. When he wasn't trying to bait naughty Faith out of her shell, that is. Kind of puts a damper on the redemption gig when you've got your former wuss of a watcher calling you a rabid dog, you know? Can't really say I blame the guy though; it's what I needed to get the job done. Watcher Man was just doing what he thought was right -- greater good and all that. Though I gotta say, stabbing that girl? Not cool. Nowhere near being okay in my book. Boy sure did slip, huh?
Anyway, we're in some small middle of nowhere town near the Cali-Nevada border, trying to scrape together enough cash to keep the wannabes fed and styling while G-man figures out what to do next. Gotta admit, all this tagging along with the teamsters stuff was really starting to grate at me. I dig the girls and all, but I was never one to hang with the crowd, you know? Always been more of the loner type. And, as much as B said I was welcome to kick it with the gang, I get the feeling that yea, I earned my place among the ranks, but that don't mean anyone's thrilled about me being around. My instincts were screaming at me that it was high time I got the Hell out of dodge. Besides, after all the feminine bonding in prison? I was so over the shacking up with big groups of rowdy chicks. Kind of had my fill of that.
"I thought I'd find you out here," a voice says, interrupting me from my thoughts. The prissy male tone tells me it can only be one person.
"Giles," I turn around with a grin, flashing my teeth at the old guy. You know, for somebody old enough to be my grandpa, he was looking pretty easy on the eyes. "Come out here to bum one?"
I shove my pack out to him. I got plenty and I figure it's the least I can do after he loaned me the funds to buy a carton in the first place. Giles shakes his head though, turning down my offer with a wave of his hand. Guess the old guy isn't into blackening his lungs like me and Spike. Boy's more of the pipe type, anyway.
"No thanks," he replies gruffly, and I can almost hear the lecture coming on. "Faith, you really shouldn't -- "
" -- smoke? Yea, I know, bad for my health," I finish off for him with a smirk. "But I gotta remind you, in this line of work... what's gonna get me first? The big C or a demon on his lucky day?"
That shuts him up fast and he nods begrudgingly, putting away the lecture... for now, anyway. "I actually came out here to discuss the future with you. Or, more accurately, what your plans are now. Will you be coming with us to the Cleveland Hellmouth?"
Whoa. Is that Giles actually showing concern for me? Damn. What's the catch?
"Buffy, she... well, Buffy's decided to take Dawn and some of the girls to Europe for an unspecified period of time."
Ah, there it is. Golden girl Buffy's throwing the stake in on G-man's big Cleveland pow wow, so watcher man goes to the next best thing -- me. I can see it's really got the guy too. He's got this whole wounded puppy look to him, like he's totally bummed that the buff's finally ready to grow up and flee the nest. Offer's tempting, but I gotta stick to my guns here. I'm not really momma bear material. I mean, the last time I got put in charge? I screwed up. Big time. Got a whole mess of girls killed and everything. I'm *not* gonna be responsible for that kind of thing again. It's just me, myself, and I from here on out.
"I was kind of thinking about heading out on my own, actually," I admit with a shrug. The filter on my cig's getting dangerously close to my fingertips, so I take that as my cue to casually lean over the balcony and flick the ash away, purposely avoiding eye contact all the while. "You know, see the world. Maybe go back east. The Big Apple's lookin' pretty sweet right about now. I could do a lot of good in that city. Place has gotta be crawling with vamps."
"Well, I do suppose New York City would have quite the vampire population," Giles chuckles. Wow. He's taking this better than I thought. Man, I thought he'd start bawling over both members of the chosen two turning him down on his slayer boot camp idea. There was always Kennedy... "You'll need money though, Faith. Have you any sort of funding?"
I frown, his logic being a major bummer on my plan. "I've slummed it before, Giles. It's no big."
"Wait a moment," he says with a surprising hint of conviction humming under his words. "I know that there have been mistakes in the past, concerning both you and Buffy, and if the two of you are to go out on your own, there's no reason why you should be forced to, as you stated, 'slum it'."
"So whatcha gonna do, Giles? Rig the lotto? Rob a bank? 'Cause we're scraping down near dangerous levels of broke as it is, so where you gonna get the cash to support me and B from?"
His expression grows stony at my question, and I can't help but wonder if G-man's about to do one of the above. Man, could you imagine Giles gathering up the wannabes for a crime spree across the country? Fuckin' wild, is what it is. Or maybe he's just got some secret stash somewhere from past dirty dealings. Giles is a straight up guy, but I always got the feeling that he'd been in my shoes before. Like there was more than meets the eye with him. Buffy mentioned something about him being badass way back when.
"Well, as you may have heard, the council is no more. There are a few survivors from the explosion, mainly the ones sent out to do field work at the time. I've talked to quite a few of them and we're thinking of rebuilding the Council."
"Okay..." I say slowly and warily, so not digging the idea of a brand new Council to boss me around. "But what does all that have to do with me?"
I got a lot of bad memories about the Council, so hearing that the fuckers that tried to take me out were rebuilding it wasn't exactly good news to me. Hell, I cheered when I heard the thing went down in flames. No more Quentin Travers to worry about. Boy was the biggest pain in the ass I *ever* had to deal with. Good riddance, man. I know I'm supposed to be all repenty here, but the guy had a serious attitude problem! If he'd just listened to Angel, he'd know that I was in a bad way and was over the bad guy routine. But no, the dude was so gung ho on taking me out, that there was no way he was gonna give me a chance to buck up and own up to my actions. He was just sore that B quit the Council and was taking it out on me. Bastard.
"Well, first of all, there are going to some major changes taking place. It's been obvious for quite some time that the previous methods weren't up to par with the modern day slayer. Some of the methods were far too primitive and harmful to the girls, such as the Cruciamentum. I was hoping to take it in a more humane direction, including offering up financial support using the Council's funds to help out the slayers. Not everything was destroyed in that blast; most of the accounts are spread throughout the world in various banks to ensure their survival."
"You're gonna pay me to slay now?" I ask with an amused grin plastered across my lips. Alright, now we're talking! I could be down with getting paid as I slayed. A hundred bucks a pop for every vamp in the bag. Man, talk about a salary! I'd be rolling in riches if that was the case.
"I was thinking of it as more of an allowance, but I suppose that sums it up as well. I'll send you and Buffy a check every month to help tide you over while you find living arrangements and jobs."
Aw, man. I still gotta get a regular job too? Bummer. Beats living on the skids though, so I just nod my head and play the fuck along. New York's expensive; I could use the extra boost while I'm setting up shop. I stick out my hand, hoping he takes the hint to shake it. You never know with these Brits.
"You got yourself a deal, Watcher man."
* * * * *
-- September 15th, 2003 - New York City --
"You've got to be kidding me!" I exclaim as I take stock of the bar before me. The Meow Mix? What the Hell kind of name is that?
"Hey, you said you were in need of a job," the chick beside me points out. Yea, yea, thanks for the reminder. But this? Whatever. I'm about to turn around and haul ass back to my place when she grabs my arm. "Wait! At least come inside first! Trust me, it's a cool place. Never judge a bar by its name."
I sigh and spin back around, allowing the chick to drag me inside. Girl was right, I'd been here a month and was still living off my slayer's "allowance." It paid the bills, yea. But what about my kicks? If I wanted to look good and eat more than frozen dinners, I was gonna have to join up with the job having folks. These leather pants of mine were startin' to look wicked ratty. Damn.
"What makes you so sure they're gonna be down with hiring me on the spot?" I ask, slightly curious about what my "date" has up her sleeve. Mel's a good girl, but she's seriously naive sometimes. Unless she's got something to hold over this place. You never know with these chicks. They look all fresh faced and sweet, but underneath the sugary sweet exterior? Total badass just waiting to pounce on you. Truth is, I'm really only sleeping with her 'cause she reminded me of another blonde I used to know. I mostly drive stick, but I go for the occasional cruise on automatic. Mel here was one of my occasional cruises.
"Because I know the owner!" she giggles excitedly. "I used to work here for a while when I was trying to pay my way through college. They all loved me and I'm sure they'll love you too. They keep asking me to come back. I can't with my new job, but I can do the next best thing."
"And what's that? Finding fresh meat for the sharks?"
"Bingo," she answers. "It's totally your scene too. Now quit brooding and get that hot leather-clad ass in here!"
Girl can take charge, that's for sure. I grin and follow her in, mostly doing so just so I can stare at her ass in that miniskirt she's wearing tonight. Well, if my scene is girls, girls, girls, then Mel's got it right on the money. There's a few guys mixed in with the crowd, but this place seems to be strictly chickly.
"A lesbian bar?" I question when we're about halfway to the bar area. Okay, so I get that I'm a little butch, but I'm not a full out carpet muncher! That title goes to Sunnydale's most popular witch.
"Yea, isn't it great? It's probably the most popular dive in New York City for lesbians. We're sort of famous! And don't worry Faith, guys come in too. And since you'll probably be the only one here looking for males, you've got your pick!"
Well, I guess it wouldn't kill me to give this place a chance. I mean, if it blows, I can always walk out and a find something else. Not like I gotta sign a five year contract or something. The dive ain't half bad either. The clientele aren't too bad looking and the music's already got me hopping. They've got a good club vibe going on and none of that flowery Sarah McLachlan crap you'd expect to find in a place like this.
"Alright," I grumble after a long silence. "I'll give this place a shot."
"Cool!" she practically squeals. God, she reminds me of B. Or maybe her kid sis, she's kind of a cross between the two. "Okay, now just sit tight at the bar and I'll be right back! Don't go anywhere."
"Not about to," I roll my eyes at her retreating form and sit the fuck down.
I need a drink in the worst way. With Mel doing her thing, I figure it's about high time to do mine. I wave down a waitress and hook myself up with a bottle of Jack Daniels -- my all time favorite dude. When Mel comes back with the boss, I'm already halfway finished and grinning like a fool. Been a while since I got my drink on. The chick she brings out is a forty something butch in a pair of tight jeans and a sleeveless black top. She's got cropped brown hair and warm brown eyes and if I didn't know better, I'd say she was checking me out. Oh yea, her eyes definitely landed on the twins and stayed there for a good long while. I stick my chest out a little, just for good measure. I know how this gig works. You're only hired on the spot if you've got a nice rack.
Mel doesn't waste anymore with intros, and gets to the name game fast. "Faith, this is Katerina. Katerina, this is Faith. She's looking for a job."
We shake hands and after another quick check out of my tits, she grins at me and nods. "Call me Kat."
And you can call me hired, is what I want to say. But I bit my tongue, smile friendly, and take a swig of the Jack. "Alright, Kat. Nice little place you got here."
"Thanks," she replies and her smile widens. "So Faith, what are your plans for tomorrow?"
"Nada so far."
"Good. You can start then. Be here at 8 o'clock sharp so we can show you the ropes before we open up for the night. You know how to pour a drink?"
"'Course I do," I scoff with a look of "duh" on my face. I'm no rookie in this field. "I've played bartender before for quick cash."
"Perfect. I'll see you then, Faith. Take good care of Mel."
Kat disappears before I can say another word. Damn. Hope my get some, get gone policy doesn't get me fired quick. Mel's good in bed, but not exactly morning after material, you know? We ran into each other at a club a few nights ago. Some dude was harassing her in the back alley and I was searching out vamps when the music got dull. Ended up pummeling the wannabe boyfriend instead.
Instead of gettin' lost, Mel hung around to play a game of hero worship with me. Can't say I can complain about that, it got me free drinks for the rest of the night and a good rubdown later. Girl's a fucking genius with her tongue. Good enough that she scored herself my number and another date. I'm digging her in the now, just not real sure how long before I start craving strange dick and end up having to dump her. At least I got a job out of this. Maybe I ought to stick around more often. Everybody seems to know everybody in this city. Could have its perks, you know?