Racing the Past

by Barnabas

Copyright © 2004

Barnabas930@yahoo.com

Rating: R
Disclaimer: Characters belong to Joss, Mutant Enemy, blah-blah-blah. Nobody's making any money off this story (though if someone wants to send me a million dollars, I won't turn it down).
Distribution:  The Mystic Muse:  http://mysticmuse.net
Author's Site: http://www.geocities.com/barnabas930
Feedback: A few nice words make my week.
Spoilers: Post-Chosen.
Pairing: Faith/Dawn

Part 1
Boston

The fist connected with her jaw, spinning her around, where she struck the brick wall of one of the neighboring buildings.

With her back still turned, she sidestepped just in time to avoid the follow-up punch. Instead of slamming into the back of her head, the vamp's hand impacted solidly with the unyielding wall. He screamed in pain, and there was the audible 'crunch' of bones breaking.

What the hell am I doing? Faith asked herself. Here she was in Boston, the last place in America she'd ever want to be. She'd left a little over nine years earlier, and would've been perfectly happy to have never seen it again in her life. Too many bad memories. God, if only people had known what her childhood had been like... Rather than wondering how she'd gotten so screwed up, they probably would've congratulated her for managing to turn out as normal as she had.

She'd been forced to return "home" when the authorities had closed in on her yet again. This time she had been in New York when the net had started to tighten once more. And really, who else did she have to blame but herself? She could've gone somewhere, some nice big city (like New York, dumbass!), and just laid low, probably staying off the cops' radar scope for years. But no! She still had to go out slaying every night, keeping the city – whatever the current city happened to be – safe from vampires, demons, and other nasties.

Why do I do it? she asked herself for maybe the millionth time over the last five years. Thanks to Red's spell, the world had plenty of vampire slayers running around, keeping the streets safe for democracy, capitalism, and all that other good shit. So why did she do it?

She sighed and thought of Angel, and as always, the answer was obvious. Redemption, of course. She was paying off for all the evil she had done, and she'd keep doing it for the rest of her life, however long it lasted. The possibility of being caught and sent back to prison was a small price to pay when she thought of all the people she was potentially saving with every vamp or demon she killed. Maybe, when she finally did reach the ol' clearing at the end of her path, the lives she had saved might come close to balancing out the ones she'd taken.

Angel would understand.

Besides, she'd already been to prison, and it wasn't really that bad. It beat the hell out of her brief stay in Cleveland, at least.

But Boston. Here. Now.

The vampire spun and struck out at her with his remaining good hand, his useless one now hugged tight to his body. She ducked this blow easily, then landed three quick strikes to his stomach, doubling him over. Knowing she had him beat and deciding to have some fun, Faith kicked him square in the balls. He uttered a faint 'squeak' and sank to his knees, his eyes rolling up in their sockets.

"Too bad you're gonna be dust in a second, Sparky. I'd love to hear you hit some of those high notes," she chuckled, then withdrew her stake and finished him off.

While she'd been enjoying and gloating over the results of her final blow, two other vampires had silently worked their way down from the other end of the alley. Faith hadn't been in town long, but word had gotten around fast, and the local undead population had decided to take care of the slayer problem before things got too bad for them.

The lead vamp reached out, took rough hold of her by the shoulders, and launched her into the alley wall. She hit it full-on with the top of her head, a blow that would've killed most normal humans. Thanks to her slayer durability, Faith got off with just a severe stunning. She fell to the ground, groaning, hand groping dazedly for her dropped stake. The vampires laughed, each privately a little surprised it had been so easy.

So this was how it was going to end, Faith realized. Back home in Boston, alone, blindsided by what were probably a couple of two-bit, nothing vamps. Her hand found her stake. She clutched it tightly and tried to rise. No good; her body told her sorry, it wasn't quite ready to do that yet.

Unseen by any of the three combatants below, a shape had stepped out of a window of one of the buildings that formed the alley, and onto the fire escape. It stealthily climbed down until it was perched at the bottom of the escape, about eight feet off the ground, and nearly directly above and behind the two vamps.

"Careless, Slayer," the lead vamp chided. "Not watching your back... Very careless. Now you pay for that with your life." The two moved toward her.

"Look who's talking," the shape said, dropping to the ground, landing nimbly three feet from the pair. An arm, stake in hand, came up lightning-quick and dusted the taller of the two vamps, the one who'd done all the talking. The expression on his face in the instant before he disappeared was one of total shock.

The newcomer turned and tried to finish off the second vamp, but he had already recovered from his surprise. He blocked the blow aimed at his chest, then the punch that followed it, coming towards his face. He ducked down slightly, then came back up, uncoiling a vicious uppercut as he did so. His attacker grunted and went flying backwards, feet coming completely off the ground.

"I don't know who the hell you are, but you're gonna be so sor – " he began, then stopped suddenly, a look of surprise and pain on his face. A split-second later, he disintegrated. Faith stood behind him, stake in hand. She still looked a little woozy, but she'd be completely recovered in another minute or two, compliments of her slayer healing.

"I don't know who the hell you are, either, but thanks for the assist," she told the shape getting up off the ground a short distance away.

"Don't mention it, Faith," a familiar voice said. She recognized it right away, but still couldn't bring herself to believe it until the newcomer stepped out of the darkness and into one of the shafts of light spilling into the alley's mouth.

"Dawn?"

"You don't have to sound so surprised," the other girl told her, a hint of laughter mixed with irritation in her voice.

Faith couldn't get over the sight in front of her. Inwardly, beyond the shock, a part of her was laughing as it took in the younger girl's wardrobe: heavy Docs on her feet, black skintight jeans, dark tank top, topped off by a black leather jacket. She could've been looking in a mirror.

The real shock was the look of the girl herself. Gone was the soft young brat she had known back in Sunny D. In her place was a young woman Faith barely recognized. Her face had matured, hardened. There was a faint scar running from her left ear, down along her jaw, disappearing under her chin. Her gaze was steely and hard. She still had her long dark hair, but it hung down her back in a braid. Even through the jacket, Faith could see how lean and muscular her body had become. She felt a sudden heat between her legs, and did her best to ignore it for the time being.

"I like the look," she said, gesturing to the clothes, so similar to her own trademark image. She hoped Dawn didn't notice the way her eyes lingered on her breasts for a moment.

"Yeah, well, what can I say? It's a classic. It also beats the hell out of pastels for midnight vamp hunting."

"I don't know; B got by okay with the pastels," Faith pointed out.

"Uh-huh," Dawn said, in a curious tone. Faith, who prided herself on reading people, thought that tone sounded suspiciously like 'drop it.' Interesting.

The two women stood in awkward silence for a moment. Faith sensed Dawn was about to say goodbye and disappear, and was suddenly desperate to make sure she didn't do that. Not yet. Her eyes flickered to the girl's face, bounced down to her breasts, then to her legs, back to her breasts, before finally ending up at her face again.

"Uh, look, I kinda know this neighborhood, and there's a decent bar a coupla blocks from here. Feel like gettin' a drink, catching up on old times?"

She saw Dawn hesitate, seemingly about to decline. "Come on, I'm buyin'. Whaddaya say?"

"Yeah, alright, I guess."

Heaving an inward sigh of relief that she had managed to keep the other girl in her sight for a little while longer, Faith smiled and led off in the direction of the bar.

The place was about half-full, which wasn't bad for eleven-thirty on a Wednesday night. Faith glanced up at the TV over the bar; the Red Sox were getting the piss walloped out of them on the west coast. Some things never change, she thought.

They picked a dimly-lit booth near the corner that gave them a good view of the room and the front door, and plenty of warning of potential trouble. A tired-looking waitress wandered over a minute later.

"WhacanIgetcha?"

"Beer," Faith replied; any brand would do, so long as it wasn't lite.

"Whiskey. And bring the bottle," Dawn ordered. Faith stared at her, hoping her eyes weren't actually bugging out of her head.

"Uh-huh. Can I see some ID, honey?"

Dawn wordlessly reached inside her jacket and withdrew her wallet, flipping it open and holding it up for inspection. The waitress nodded, apparently satisfied, and left to fetch their order.

"Damn, Dawnie..." Faith chuckled.

"I don't like people to call me that anymore," Dawn told her coldly.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, sorry," she muttered. Way to go, stupid, she told herself. You've been here less than two minutes and you've already pissed her off. "Alright, then... D... So what's the old gang up to?"

Dawn looked like she might object to this nickname too, then just shook her head, maybe deciding it wasn't worth the argument. "Well, let's see..."

She was interrupted by the return of the waitress, who set their drinks down quickly and retreated.

Giles had returned to England right after the end in Sunnydale and helped form a new Watchers Council, Dawn told her. Spike had appeared as a ghost three weeks later at Angel's law firm in LA. Xander had disappeared for awhile, though she'd heard from Willow about a year ago that he was currently living in Alaska, running some kind of wilderness expedition business. He'd taken Anya's death very hard, Dawn confided.

"But the two of them weren't even together anymore," Faith protested, a little confused.

"He still loved her," Dawn said simply. They sat in silence for a moment, drinking and thinking.

Buffy, Willow, Dawn, and Kennedy had gone to Europe for nearly a year, she continued. They had traveled around, locating and training newly-created slayers. Willow and Kennedy had broken up during their stop in Germany. She didn't know all of the details, but Dawn thought Kennedy had cheated. Faith didn't comment; she didn't know what Dawn's opinion of Kennedy was and didn't want to piss her off again, but she herself had never liked the girl and didn't think she was a good match for Red.

After Europe, she, Buffy, and Willow had come back to America for a little while, continuing the work with the new slayers. Then it was off to the Far East – Japan, South Korea, and Hong Kong, followed by a stop in Australia. Though Buffy and Angel almost never spoke, he'd set up an account for her through his law firm that made sure they had all the money they needed.

They were still in Australia when Dawn turned eighteen, and it was shortly after this that she and Buffy had had some sort of falling out. Dawn didn't give specifics and Faith didn't pry, but it was obviously something that still bothered the younger Summers.

She and two of the slayers who'd been traveling with them at the time, an American named Kait, who was Dawn's age, and an Australian named Becky who was a year older, left Buffy and Willow and struck out on their own. They spent several months working countless crap jobs, finally earning enough money to return to the States.

Becky drifted off soon after, but Dawn and Kait had formed a tight team. They traveled around the country on what little cash they could scrape together, battling evil and enjoying the adventure. Kait had begun training Dawn, teaching her hand-to-hand combat and weapons skills, and also coming up with a weight-training program for the two of them that they could do without any actual weightroom equipment, which was hard to come by when you were living in an abandoned bigrig trailer or deserted warehouse.

"You really lived in places like that?" Faith asked, shocked. She just couldn't picture the Dawn Summers she'd known back in Sunnydale living in an old tractor-trailer.

"Not always. Depends how much money we had at the time. Sometimes we'd have enough to afford a room for a little while, but sometimes not. So when we didn't, we just did whatever we had to."

It had been great, Dawn said wistfully, and a sad smile crossed her face. When she saw it, Faith's heart melted just a bit.

Oh Christ, she groaned silently. That is a complication I SO don't need. I didn't come in here looking for an emotional attachment – just a good screw.

It had been great until Miami, ten months ago. They'd found a vamp nest, scouted it out ahead of time, and planned their attack carefully. Only when they'd actually tried to carry it out, the five vampires they had expected turned out to be eleven. They'd done fairly well, given the odds, getting six of them. But the rest had descended on them in a furious mob, killing Kait and seriously wounding Dawn. She had gotten away with a deep cut on her face – she indicated the scar Faith had noticed earlier – and another on her left hip.

She found a place to hole up for the night, hiding from the remaining vamps, who'd stayed out until nearly sunrise looking for her. Once it was safe, she stumbled out, collapsing in the street, on the verge of death from the massive blood loss.

Luckily a car had come by not long afterwards, and the driver had stopped, picked her up, and rushed her to the hospital. They had treated her, healed her up, and then gotten rid of her as soon as they could legitimately get away with doing so – she had no money or insurance, a condition which didn't lend itself to great compassion from the medical community.

She'd spent the next few months finishing the healing process and getting herself into the best shape of her life. When she knew she was ready, she had gone back and finished off the remains of the nest.

"You took on five of 'em by yourself?" Faith asked incredulously.

"Of course," Dawn snapped. "I had to. Kait would've wanted me to. She would've done it for me."

"She was a slayer, D – you're not." Faith cringed almost as soon as the words were out of her mouth.

"So?" Dawn asked, anger rising in her voice. "I may not have the speed or strength you do, Faith, or that Kait did, but I can handle myself in a fight. See those guys over there?" She nodded toward a group of four well-built guys standing at the bar. "I could put all four of them in the hospital, and barely break a sweat doing it. Thanks to Kait. What she taught me – and the way she believed in me." The anger was gone now; in it's place was pain and loss. Faith could hear how brittle her voice was, and sense how close the tears were to breaking through the tough facade she had built for herself.

She knew that if the tears did come right now, Dawn would get up and bolt from the place, and she'd likely never see her again. Faith wanted that to happen about as much as she wanted to jam her thumb into her own eye.

She reached out and covered Dawn's hand with her own. Dawn flinched, but didn't pull it back. "Hey. I'm sorry I said that. 'Cause obviously, with the way you saved my ass back there tonight, you know what you're doing." She softened her voice and added, "And I'm sorry about Kait. She sounds like an amazing person."

"She was," Dawn agreed. Faith could see she was pulling herself back together, the impending tears disappearing back wherever they'd come from. "You two would've gotten along good, I think."

"I bet we would have," Faith smiled softly. She became aware of her hand covering the younger girl's, and pulled it back quickly. "So," she said, a little too loudly, "when'd you get to Boston?"

"'Bout a month ago. Heard a rumor a couple of nights back that the local vamps were planning on going looking for a slayer who'd shown up recently and started making their lives miserable. Figured I'd better go find her and save her sorry ass before they got there." She said this with a scowl, but Faith thought she could see the ghost of a smile lurking behind it.

"You didn't know it was me?"

"No," Dawn said, but her eyes darted away, and Faith knew she was lying.

"Mmm," she responded noncommittally.

They sat in silence for a couple of minutes. Faith downed the last of her beer and signaled the waitress for another. She glanced over and noticed that Dawn had polished off nearly half the bottle of whiskey, but didn't seem the least bit drunk. As a slayer, thanks to her superhuman metabolism, Faith could drink all night and stay nearly stone sober. Dawn, however, didn't have that added advantage. Faith's respect for, and admiration of, the young woman went up another notch.

"So, I told you my story," Dawn spoke up finally, breaking the silence. "How about giving me yours?"

"Ah, man, where do I start?" Faith asked herself, sighing.

"Start at the beginning," Dawn told her. "No one ever heard from you again after that day five years ago, when you and Principal Wood left together after the end in Sunnydale."

"Yeah, well you know, bein' a hunted fugitive and all makes it kinda hard to stop and send postcards," she pointed out with a lopsided grin.

"How about Principal Wood?" she asked. "You two still together? Is he here in town with you?"

Faith felt her cheeks grow red, and her gaze dropped to the table in front of her. "Oh, uh... no. No, that didn't really work out, me and Robin."

"Oh," Dawn said softly. "I'm sorry," she added in an apologetic voice.

"Yeah, well, ancient history and all that shit," Faith said briskly, trying to get off the subject. "Well, there's not really all that much to tell. I stay in one city for awhile, slaying vamps and demons and trying to get by, until the cops start to get close again. When they do, I move on. I think I must've been to nearly every big city – and a lot of the small ones – in America in the last five years."

"You're alone?"

"Yeah."

A current of understanding flowed between the two women in the brief silence that followed. They looked at each other and recognized a kindred spirit in the person sitting across from them, someone who knew firsthand what it was like to live the lives they did, the hardship of a life lived constantly on the road, the harsh conditions made just that much worse by the loneliness that accompanied them.

As Faith finished off the beer in her hand and watched Dawn working on the last of the whiskey, she reached a decision. "You have a place to stay?"

"I told you I've been here awhile, didn't I? Of course I've got a place," she answered defensively.

Faith ignored the tone and pressed the issue. "A decent place? You know, with running water and a lock on the door?"

"Don't worry about me, Faith. I can take care of myself." She tossed back the liquor still remaining in the shot glass, then slammed it down on the table in front of her. A couple of heads turned in their direction, before going back to what they were doing.

"I know you can, and I won't be worrying about you, 'cause you're coming back to my place. I guess you're kinda like family, and I'm not gonna let you go spend the night sleeping under some highway overpass. I don't have much, but I'll find room for ya."

Dawn gave Faith a measuring look. Faith tried to figure out what was going through the other's mind, but drew a blank.

Yes, she desperately wanted to get in the other woman's pants; she could hardly deny that, especially to herself. But whatever else she was, she was also Buffy's sister, and Faith wasn't about to let her go spend the night with the rest of the city's indigent while she herself had a not-too-roach-infested motel room, complete with not-too-lumpy bed. She'd give Dawn the bed, and crash in a chair or on the floor tonight.

She stood up and fished out her wallet, dropping several bills onto the table. "That wasn't a request, by the way."

Dawn looked at her a moment longer, her face still unreadable. Finally she got to her feet, with not a sign of a sway from all the alcohol she'd just consumed. "Alright."

Faith unlocked the door and motioned for Dawn to go first, then reached in and flipped the light on. She stepped in behind her and watched the younger woman look around, taking in the room.

It was small and clean, because if there was one thing Faith demanded of her surroundings, it was that they be clean and orderly. A narrow bed stood against the wall to their left; on their right was a desk and chair, and a second, slightly more comfortable-looking chair sat nearby. The window across the room from them looked out onto a solid stone or concrete wall less than five feet away. Beyond the bed, also on the lefthand wall, was a door that led to the tiny bathroom.

"Not bad," Dawn allowed. She took her jacket off and tossed it on one of the chairs. "Nice view." She nodded toward the window.

"Yeah, well, you get what you pay for," Faith laughed slightly. She turned around for a moment, locking the door behind her. "You can take the bed tonight; I'll take the – "

When she looked back at Dawn, her voice cut off like it had been amputated with a scalpel. The other woman had already dropped her tank top to the floor, and as Faith watched, reached back and unhooked her bra, letting that fall, as well.

"Or we could do this, instead," Dawn told her. "Take off your clothes, Faith," she instructed. Her commanding tone caused Faith to open her eyes a little wider.

"Uh, D, look, maybe we shouldn't – "

Dawn silenced her by stepping forward and placing her finger to Faith's lips. "Believe it or not, Faith, I'm not blind, naive, or stupid. I've known all night that you wanted to do this." She took the older girl's hand in hers and placed it on her breast.

Faith's resolve broke as she felt the nipple harden under her fingers, guided over it by Dawn's. She reluctantly took her hand away to shrug out of her own jacket, and a moment later her tank and bra had joined the others on the floor.

Dawn knelt and began to unlace Faith's heavy boots, pulling them off, followed by the socks. Her hands slowly trailed their way up Faith's legs, lingering longer than strictly necessary on the insides of her thighs. She unbuttoned Faith's jeans and slid them down, followed by the panties.

Recovering her wits long enough to realize what she had to do, Faith knelt and performed the same tasks on the younger woman. She rose, and they stood there at arm's length, just staring at each other.

Faith felt her breathing grow ragged as she took in the vision before her. She had expected Dawn to look like her sister, but that wasn't the case at all. She was taller than Buffy, more muscular, better endowed. Faith unconsciously licked her lips as her gaze traveled over the high, firm breasts, the flat stomach, the long legs...

The thing that was most spectacular, however, was the physique; the girl looked like one solid sheath of muscle. Whatever her percentage of body fat was, it must be ridiculously low; Faith wondered if it was lower even than her own. And unlike the pansy-ass muscles cultivated by body-builders in gyms the world over, which weren't good for much besides showing off, Dawn's gave evidence of the practicality behind them. This was a physique born out of an almost desperate need to survive; these were muscles designed to hurt and kill. Faith's arousal surged higher at this realization.

She gave a start as she realized something else – looking at Dawn was like looking at herself in the mirror. Or herself at twenty-one, at any rate. Same height, same build, same dark hair, same haunted look in her eyes...

Dawn reached her hand behind Faith's neck and pulled her into a passionate kiss. It seemed to Faith that their tongues were in each other's mouths before their lips had even touched. Back and forth they went in that darkness; circling, teasing, thrusting quickly, slowly, hard, soft. It was an endless struggle each fought with every fiber of her being to win, and it was a battle they both knew neither would. Knowing this didn't stop them from trying.

God, this felt so perfect! Faith thought. It had been too long since she'd been with a woman. She really didn't have a preference either way – both sexes brought their own positives to the table – but she did like to keep up the variety and experience both sides equally, something she hadn't been doing of late, somehow ending up with one guy after another. Strictly one-night (and not even the whole night) deals, because that's just the way she operated.

Usually, anyway. She knew already that she definitely wanted D to be there when she woke up in the morning. And the morning after that.

Dawn broke the kiss. "Pretty good, Faith," she confessed with a slight smirk. "But is that all you got, or was it just the pre-show?"

"D, that was nothin' compared to the things I'm going to do to you," Faith responded with a wicked grin.

"Well, then let's see what ya got," Dawn challenged, and pulled her toward the bed.

It was just before sunrise. Dawn had fallen into an exhausted, very satisfied sleep a short time ago. Faith had stayed awake, just lying there, watching the younger woman sleep, marveling at the events of the last few hours. Last night she'd left this room, alone, heading out to battle the forces of darkness yet again, with nothing good to look forward to in this shitty life she'd carved out for herself.

Now, here she lay the next morning with a beautiful woman sharing her bed – a woman, she already hoped, who would be occupying this same spot for the foreseeable future. If not this particular bed, then others, as the two of them made their way across the country together. They shared an identical lifestyle already; was it too much to hope that Dawn was as tired of living it on her own as Faith was?

Last night had been one of the most amazing of her life. She'd had her fair share of sex over the years, but she honestly couldn't remember a time when it had been better than last night.

No, that's not true; she could remember a time that had been better. Sunnydale. Nine years ago. Maybe not by much, but yeah, that had been better.

She looked down at the woman by her side and smiled, a little sadly. Why should she be so surprised that Dawn had come so close to measuring up to that memory from all those years ago? Why, given what her last name was?

Dawn stirred, and was suddenly looking at her, eyes open. Faith filed that away as just one more thing to be impressed by: one instant, sound asleep; the next, wide-awake. This was someone who'd obviously learned the hard lessons of survival.

"You're awake already," Dawn observed.

"Never went to sleep."

Dawn shifted, propping her head up with her elbow. "What are you doing today?"

"I gotta go to work," Faith admitted sadly, wishing more than anything that she could spend all afternoon right where she was. "I managed to get this temp construction gig. Pay's pretty decent, and it lets me afford this place." She gestured around to the room.

Dawn was silent for a moment. "If I ask you something, will you promise to give me an honest answer?" the younger woman asked, staring at her intently.

"I don't know; depends what the question is," she answered warily. "Ask, and I'll think about it."

"When you came to Sunnydale that first time, nine years ago, were you fucking Buffy?" Dawn's blue eyes bored into Faith's brown ones, already searching for an attempt at a lie.

For a moment, Faith was tempted to do just that. Or better yet, tell her it was none of her goddamn business. But when she thought it over, she decided that that probably wasn't a very good idea. She didn't know what she and Dawn had, or what she wanted it to become, but she did know that whatever it was, she didn't want to start it out by lying to her.

"No," she answered honestly. She saw Dawn start to protest, and cut her off. "I wasn't fucking Buffy; she was fucking me." She let that hang in the air for a moment, wondering if Dawn would ask her what the hell the difference was. She didn't. She seemed to sense that Faith needed to tell it herself.

"I was in – I mean, yeah, we had a physical thing back then, but it turned out that what Buffy wanted from it wasn't the same thing that I wanted from it." She felt herself blushing, and looked away.

"I understand."

"You do, huh?"

"Yes," Dawn replied. "You were in love with her, weren't you? You were in love with her, and she just used you as a convenient back-scratcher. 'I'll go over to Angel's for awhile, drool all over his shoes and get myself incredibly turned-on, and since he can't do anything to help me with that, I'll just run over to Faithy's afterwards and let her get me off for a couple of hours.' That about it?"

Faith couldn't meet her eyes; she simply nodded shakily, her face growing even redder. Dawn had just summed it up exactly the way Faith herself had worked it out. Truth be told, she'd worked it out even back while it was still happening, but let Buffy keep coming back and using her, hoping that eventually she'd see how much Faith really loved her. Maybe she'd notice the tender and sweet way Faith tried to make love to her, as opposed to the fast, rough fucking Buffy always gave her in return. But Faith had never had anything tender and sweet in her life, and knew she was making of mess of her own attempts. So really, how could she be surprised that Buffy hadn't noticed?

"Figures. God, she's such a bitch," Dawn murmured. Then, with absolutely no warning whatsoever, she burst into tears.

"Dawnie – Uh, I mean, D – what's wrong?" Faith reached her arm under Dawn, pulling her tightly to her. Immediately she felt warm tears landing on her bare shoulder. "Shh... D... what is it?"

"It's all my fault," Dawn sobbed. "It's me – I got her killed. I KILLED HER! I – " Further explanation was cut off by a fresh burst of sobs.

Faith just held her close, whispering 'shh' along with other comforting – she hoped – sounds. Eventually, the other girl's tears tapered off a bit.

"Sorry," she muttered, wiping her eyes.

"Don't be sorry. Never. But please, talk to me. What's wrong? Who do you think you got killed? B? Is B dead?"

"No, not her – Kait. Kait's dead, and it's all my fault." She sniffled, still wiping at her red, raw eyes. "God, Faith, when we were in Australia with Buffy, she was so happy. She admired Buffy and Willow so much, and loved training with them and the other slayers we were with.

"But then Buffy and I had that fight... And afterwards I told Kait that I was leaving, and even though she didn't want to, she came with me. Because she loved me; because we loved each other. I knew she was better off with Buffy, that she should keep up her training, but I was so selfish. I loved her, and since I couldn't stay there anymore, I asked her to come with me, even though I knew she really shouldn't. God, I'm such a selfish bitch." Fresh tears began to stream from her eyes, once more landing on Faith's shoulder.

"If she'd stayed with Buffy, she'd still be alive today. She never would've died back in Miami," Dawn finished, and a choked cry escaped her throat.

"There's no way to know if that's true, D," Faith told her forcefully. "None. She might've stayed with B and finished her training, then run into some badass vamp on her first night on the job and gotten killed two years before she did. It sounds to me like no matter how things ended up, you two had a great life together. Try to focus on that, instead of the way it ended," Faith suggested, stroking the girl's cheek, wiping her tears away. Christ, she sucked at this comforting thing!

"I didn't tell you everything, Faith," Dawn said so quietly that Faith barely heard her, looking up at her through tear-filled eyes.

"About what?"

"About Miami. When I went back and cleaned out the rest of that nest, I didn't kill five vamps. I killed six."

"Uh-huh...?" Faith asked, not seeing where she was going with this.

"They didn't just kill Kait. They turned her. I had to kill her, too. I had to stake my lover to dust," she said softly, as if just comprehending this fact, then buried her face in Faith's shoulder, great wracking sobs causing her whole body to shudder uncontrollably. Faith realized this was the first time she had let all this emotion out since it had happened.

"Oh God, Dawn. Oh God, I'm so sorry," she whispered, stroking her hair, holding her tightly to her. "I can't imagine how hard that must've been." She wanted to use an endearment, like 'baby' or 'honey' or 'sweetie,' the kind of thing she knew Buffy would say. But she'd lived her whole life without anyone saying things like that to her, or saying them to others, and she felt awkward about doing so now. She cursed herself for her inability to say them, for not being able to help ease Dawn's pain a little more with the comfort one of those words could provide. She was just a lousy fucking coward.

"And that's not even all of it," she confessed when she could finally talk again. "When Kait and I left Buffy, Becky found out we were planning to come back home, and insisted on coming with us. She'd dreamed her whole life of coming to the States, and decided we were her best chance to get here. Kait and I wanted to be alone, and Becky was completely clueless about our relationship, but we liked her, and agreed she could come too.

"I think she figured out about the two of us before long, and didn't want to feel like a third wheel. We woke up one morning and she was gone. Disappeared. We tried to find her, but we never did.

"How do I know she isn't dead too, Faith?" Dawn asked, looking up at her. "This isn't her country; maybe she wound up in a ditch a week after she left us, slayer or no slayer. Did I get her killed, too?"

"No!" Faith exclaimed, staring deep into her eyes. "I'm not going to let you blame yourself for Kait's death, and I'm sure as shit not gonna let you blame yourself for someone's death who's still out there alive somewhere."

"You don't know she's alive."

"You don't know she's dead," Faith pointed out reasonably. "And since she's a slayer, I gotta say I like her chances. I'll bet you a million fuckin' bucks she's out there right now, in Boulder, Colorado, or Portland, Maine, or Atlanta, making life miserable for some asshole vamps."

"You don't have a million bucks," Dawn argued, and smiled weakly. It wasn't much, but it was a huge improvement over the tears, and it made Faith's heart melt a little more.

"No, that's true," she agreed, grinning ear-to-ear. "But I'll bet you a kiss, instead. And since I already know that I'm right, pay up." She closed her eyes and puckered up comically. Dawn laughed and leaned up, pecking Faith on the lips. Almost instantly, it grew into a deep, heated battle of tongues.

Faith's hands wandered up over Dawn's hips, along her sides, over her stomach, over her breasts. Dimly, it registered that Dawn was doing likewise to her.

"I've got a few minutes before I have to get ready for work," she panted after prying herself away from Dawn's lips.

"Mmm, not much time," the younger woman pouted. "But I think we can put it to good use." She grinned and rolled over on top of the older brunette.

Faith and Dawn stepped out of the room's shower twenty minutes later. It had been pretty cramped with the two of them in there, but they had managed it.

Faith was combing her hair, while Dawn took advantage of the chance to use toothpaste again, obviously relishing the feeling of clean teeth and a clean mouth. Somehow she managed not to get a single cavity and to keep her teeth sparkling white despite only semi-regular access to actual toothpaste.

"When do you get off work?" she asked after rinsing out her mouth.

"Five o'clock," Faith answered. She hesitated, figured 'what the hell?,' and took the plunge. "Umm, D, can I ask you something?" She felt her cheeks glowing again. Damn, how long had it been since she'd blushed this much? Nine years, she thought.

"What?" Dawn asked, turning around.

"Would you, uh... Would you maybe stay here? You know... with me?" Her feet suddenly seemed like the most interesting thing in the room, and she stared at them intently, like she maybe expected them to jump off her legs and run away all on their own.

She was still looking straight down when she saw Dawn's legs enter her field of vision, stepping close to her. A hand gently clasped her chin and pulled her face up, bringing her eyes into contact with those just a few inches away.

"I'll stay," Dawn agreed, smiling softly.

Faith let out the breath she hadn't known she was holding, grinned broadly, and pulled Dawn into a tight hug.

"We'd better get dressed, though," Dawn added, pulling away and looking down at their still-naked bodies. "Otherwise, I think you're gonna be late for work," she observed with a smirk.

Part 2
Running

The next two weeks passed quickly. Dawn got a job for below-minimum wage waiting tables in a sleazy diner. She'd taken it because she wanted to help chip in for things, and because it was the only thing she could find during the day that coincided with the hours Faith worked. Something that kept her at work during the night and away from Faith was out of the question, she had explained. Plus, the two of them had other work to do once the sun set.

Although that might not be the case for much longer. In the brief time since they had partnered up, they'd wiped out nearly all of Boston's vampire and demon populations (which hadn't been that large to begin with). Privately, Faith marveled at what a great team they made, and how D seemed to bring out more in her than she had even been aware she had.

With the added income from Dawn's job, they were able to upgrade to a new, slightly-less seedy motel, complete with a queen size bed, which made for more comfortable sleeping at night, and more room for their very frequent extracurricular activities. Faith didn't tell Dawn that the money from her waitress job wasn't quite enough to cover their new digs, and that she'd had to dip into some of the savings her construction job had helped her pile up. But she loved the look of happiness that always lit up Dawn's face every time they came through the door, knowing she had helped them get this place, and wouldn't have spoiled that feeling for the world. She had enough coin to pay for it for awhile longer, and suspected they would be chased out of town by the authorities long before she had to break that bad news to her new honey.

Speaking of which, it was getting to be time to start thinking seriously about that eventuality. Where should she go next? Portland, Maine was a candidate, but she'd been heading steadily northeast for awhile now, so she should probably switch up that pattern and head back west, or maybe south again. Denver, Dallas, New Orleans... It had been awhile since she'd been to any of those three, so it was likely that they would be safe for a time again.

All D's talk of her world travels even made Faith consider heading for another country, at least for awhile. Europe or South America, maybe. Or Japan. She'd always wanted to see Japan. Unfortunately, she knew she didn't have the money it would take to get to any of those places.

A bigger problem was what to do about D. Should she ask her to come with her? That first morning, two weeks ago, it had seemed like the natural thing to do. But if she agreed, wouldn't that make her a criminal for consorting with a known murderer and wanted fugitive? As much as she cared for Dawn and couldn't bear the thought of moving on without her, the idea of D being thrown in jail just because of her association with Faith horrified her. Was it worth risking that happening to D just because she'd miss her otherwise?

What was her alternative? Well, she could always pull the ol' 'Faith Bail & Fade.' After all, it was a classic, and she had it down by now. Which naturally led her to thoughts of New Orleans...

God, how stupid was she to even consider going back there? What was it even doing on her list? Okay, Denver or Dallas then, and fuck New Orleans.

Still, what was she going to do about D?

"Hey," a soft voice called from behind her.

"Huh?" she asked, startled, and looked around.

"Sorry to interrupt; looked like you were really concentrating there. I just wanted to ask if you felt like going out tonight?" Dawn looked at her hopefully. "It's just been so long since I've done anything like that. You know, go to a movie or a club or something."

"Oh, uh, sure," Faith agreed, standing up. She tried to bury her thoughts and worries about the future. "Let's, um, hit a club. A few hours of drinking and dancing sounds like exactly what I need right now."

"What were you doing?" Dawn asked, nodding toward the desk where she'd been sitting, engrossed in thought, when the younger woman came in.

"What? Oh! Uh, nothing important. Just, you know, thinkin' about new ways to kick some vamp ass." She smiled nervously.

"Uh-huh," Dawn said, a hint of skepticism in her voice. Faith prayed she wouldn't push it.

She didn't. "Alright, just let me get changed." Dawn turned and walked over to the closet.

"Yeah, me too," Faith agreed.

"Can I watch?"

"Of course." They laughed as clothes came off with frightening speed.

The bouncer had waved them through without even asking to see their IDs. They laughed about it once they got inside, commenting that the excessive amount of skin each was sporting, and particularly the impressive amount of cleavage, probably had something to do with their easy admittance.

The place was packed, and their senses were immediately assaulted by the crush of bodies pressing together, the smell of sweat, and the pounding of a bassline.

"Drink first, or dance first?" Faith yelled in Dawn's ear.

"Dance!" Dawn yelled back, grabbing her hand and pulling her out onto the floor.

Two hours later they'd worked up a pleasant sweat on the dance floor, and succeeded in getting just about every other woman in the club completely pissed off at them. By the time they had been there for a half-hour, nearly every guy in the place was spending all their time looking at the two of them, causing the rest of the females to begin to feel very neglected.

It was understandable, however; Faith and Dawn were very possibly the most striking couple to come into this particular establishment in months. Long dark hair; incredibly fit, lean, muscular bodies; short, tight skirts; similarly tight halters with plunging necklines that cut off just below their breasts, revealing their flat, toned stomachs; that faint scar on the younger one that somehow added an air of danger, making her just that much sexier... And the way they danced... They moved with such grace, coupled with such passion at the same time. Their bodies seemed locked together for long periods, sliding along and rubbing up against one another, hands roaming freely, not seeming to care who was watching.

The dance floor began to empty out before long, as more and more of the guys watching them decided it might be a good idea to sit down at a table and enjoy a few drinks. It seemed many of them had developed an embarrassing problem in their pants.

So similar did they look, with their long dark hair and nearly-identical builds, that whispers began circulating among the crowd that they were actually sisters. This rumor caused the dance floor to empty even further, as more of the males began noticing the bulges developing below their waists.

Eventually, it was almost midnight, and only four other couples were left on the floor besides Faith and Dawn, and one of these was another pair of women, who's gazes hadn't left the dark-haired beauties for over an hour. Luckily for them, they didn't have to worry about the situation that had caused many of the men to run for the nearby tables.

Even though they remained outwardly oblivious, the two young women were fully aware of the stir they had created, and were loving it. It just pushed them even further. Whenever they looked in the other's eyes, they saw the laughter bubbling up inside, and had to struggle to contain their own hysterics, which would've ruined the atmosphere and broken the spell they had so obviously cast on the place.

"This has been more fun than I've had in forever," Dawn said into Faith's ear, just loudly enough for her to hear. "But I don't have your stamina, and I'm getting kinda worn out. Plus, we should probably do a patrol before we turn in," she pointed out.

Faith sighed, knowing D was right. "Okay, as soon as this song's over, we'll split. Good enough?"

"Yeah."

"Thanks for an awesome night, D." Faith grinned.

"You too, Faith." Dawn smiled back.

"Hello, ladies," a new voice said. They turned and saw three guys, probably mid-to-late twenties, approaching. The one in front was about six-two, dark blonde hair, well-built. Pretty good-looking, actually, but the smirk on his face instantly put both women on guard, and their dancing slowed almost to a stop. "So can we cut in on this action or what?"

"Sorry," Faith told him with an insincere smile. The two of them stopped dancing completely, and both suppressed a laugh as they heard the loud groan go up from most of the men still in attendance. "Me and my friend were just about to leave," she explained.

"Aww, come on, babies, just once dance," the second one said. He was less good-looking; shorter, dark hair, with a trace of what had probably once been a truly terrible case of teenage acne.

"She just said that we're leaving," Dawn repeated, a stony expression on her face as she crossed her arms over her chest. Faith mirrored this pose.

"Whassamatter? Fuckin' dykes too good to dance with some real men?" Asshole #2 asked. Assholes #1 and 3 laughed.

Then Asshole #2 did it. A little thing, really, but even so it was enough to start the chain-reaction that led to – among other things – an almost-cross-country train ride, a burglary, an attempted rape, and a mixture of both state and federal arrest warrants being issued for Dawn Summers on over a half-dozen felony charges.

Asshole #2 reached out and grabbed Dawn, pulling her toward him and grabbing her breast roughly. "Ooh, nice!" he told her, leering. "See how good us guys can be at this?"

An instant later his head rocked back, blood flying, glittering in the glaring lights before splattering to the ground, forming interesting patterns on the dance floor. Faith followed up the blow that had broken his nose with a kick to the balls. She put every ounce of her slayer strength behind it, and would've been extremely gratified to know that they would be swollen up to the size of oranges for nearly a month afterwards.

"I think she'll stick with the girls, asshole. Thanks anyway." He lay kneeling on the ground, bent over, hands held to his crotch. Unable to resist, Faith threw another kick – she pulled this one a bit, not landing it all-out – that connected with his mouth, knocking out seven teeth.

His two friends just stood there in shock for a minute, unable to believe the ease and viciousness with which Faith had dealt with #2. After her kick to his face, however, they snapped into action. #1 threw a punch at Faith's head that she ducked easily, and Dawn got in before he could deliver another, hitting him with a shot in the stomach that knocked the wind out of him, following it with one to the jaw that produced an audible 'thunk' sound. His eyes rolled up to show all whites, and he collapsed like a sack of wheat.

Dawn turned instantly to check on Faith, and saw she was doing just fine. She'd somehow gotten #3's right arm twisted up behind his back, and if she took it much further, she was going to pull it right out of the socket.

Instead, Faith reached out with her right foot, hooking one of #3's feet out from under him and knocking him off-balance. He fell forward with Faith behind him, riding him down, holding both of his arms and not allowing him to reach out and break his fall. He struck the ground ribs-first, and there was a loud cracking sound. A split-second later his jaw connected with the hard floor, breaking it in three places and knocking him out cold.

"I think we'd better get out of here," Dawn said unnecessarily.

"Yeah, I think you're right," Faith agreed. They headed for the exit.

"What the fuck is going on in here?" the bouncer demanded, pushing through the onlookers from his place at the door. He was about six-five, looked to push three hundred pounds, and his large earring and shaved head both reflected the flashing lights.

"Those two chicks!" someone yelled from the middle of the crowd. "They just took those three assholes apart! Funniest damn thing I ever saw in my life, dude!" Laughs and murmurs.

"Look," Faith told the bouncer calmly, holding her hands out in a placating gesture. "Those guys hassled us, and we defended ourselves. We were planning on leaving anyway, so if you'll just let us by, we'll be gone, and you'll never have to see us again. Swear to God."

"Sorry, ladies, but I think you'll have to wait for the cops to sort this out," he replied, taking another step towards them.

That was the last thing they could let happen, Faith knew. She'd be headed back to prison before she could even blink, and D would probably be in deep shit too, since honestly, they had used a hell of a lot more violence on those three than they'd really needed to.

"We can't do that," she explained reasonably. "We've got someplace we really need to be. Just let us by and you'll never have any trouble from us again."

"Sorry," he repeated simply, growing more businesslike. "Why don't you two go have a seat at the bar and we'll all just wait for the police, okay?"

"We don't want to hurt you," she told him in a low, threatening voice. He looked at the size of them compared to himself and started to chuckle. A quick look over their shoulders at the three wrecks still lying on the dance floor, however, caused the chuckle to cut off, mid-chuck.

"Just doing my job," he protested, taking another cautious step forward.

"I know," Faith sympathized. Simultaneously – almost as if they had communicated telepathically – the two girls broke and ran at him. He made a grab for them, and before he even knew how it had happened, found himself flying through the air, then crashing down into the mountain of glass stacked behind the bar. Police would later put it down to unreliable testimony due to the effects of alcohol when several eyewitness claimed the pair of hundred-and-fifteen-pound girls had thrown the three-hundred-and-ten pound bouncer twenty-five feet through the air.

As if by magic, the pair disappeared into the night.

Faith's instincts had been well-honed over the past five years, and as she suspected, the net had been tightening on her again. The Boston police were in fact already actively looking for her.

So naturally, when the report of a disturbance at a nightclub had come in, with one of the suspects matching her description, they had descended en masse, complete with photos of her. And of course, nearly everyone in the place was able to positively identify her as one of those involved. She and Dawn had made quite the impression on the night's crowd.

Patrols fanned out, combing the streets in the surrounding area. Officers began visiting nearby motels and boarding houses. The clerk at the one where the two women were currently staying told them that yes, she and the other broad were renting #19. He collected the spare key and led them off in that direction.

Dozens of fingerprints were lifted from the room's belongings. One set was immediately confirmed as belonging to Faith. It took several hours for an ID to come back on the second set, but when it did, they had a name for suspect number two: Dawn Summers.

It didn't take Faith long to figure it out: the Boston cops had ID'ed her, and they were going to tear this neighborhood apart looking for them, then work outward as necessary.

They had tried in vain several times to get back to their place, collect their things, and change into something a little less conspicuous and better designed for desperately fleeing from government authorities. It was no good. Every time they got near, a squad car would come by, forcing them onto another street and away from their destination.

"That's it; we can't keep this up anymore. There's just more and more of 'em showing up. They're going to pinch us for sure if we don't get off the streets," Faith sighed. She spotted a nearby manhole and pulled off the cover, motioning for Dawn to climb down ahead of her.

"But we can't yet; we still have to get our stuff," Dawn pointed out.

"D, our stuff is gone. There's no way we're gettin' back there. And chances are pretty good they've found our place by now. Our stuff's probably already on the way to the state crime lab."

"Well, I don't care; I'm not leaving without my stuff," Dawn said adamantly.

"D, you hardly have any stuff," Faith reminded her. "You've got a backpack full of clothes, and some personal crap that fits into a small purse with plenty of room left over." Christ, what was wrong with her? They were both about five seconds away from being picked up by the cops, and D was standing here whining about losing her hairbrush and a couple of pairs of jeans!

"My jacket is back there, Faith!" Dawn cried loudly. To Faith's eyes, she looked on the verge of tears.

What the hell? she wondered.

"I'm not leaving without that jacket!" Dawn told her, and this time tears did begin to leak out of the corners of her eyes.

"Look, it's a nice jacket, D, I admit, but it's not worth – "

"Kait bought me that jacket!" The tears were flowing freely now. "She knew I'd always wanted one like that, and she couldn't get one for me because we were broke. But she started saving part of her pay any time we got work, even when we were still in Oz. It took her two... fucking... years... but she saved up and found this beautiful one for me in this little used-clothing store. It's the only thing I have left to remember her by, Faith. I don't even have a picture of her; just that jacket!"

"D," Faith stood up, walked over, and put her hands on the younger woman's shoulders, "I'm sorry. I really am. If there was any way in the entire world I could get it back for you, please believe I would. I hate seeing you cry more than just about anything." She reached up with one hand and wiped the tears from first one cheek, then the other. "But we can't go back there. We'd be arrested a hundred yards from the door.

"Now, we need to get out of sight for a few hours, because honestly, we look wicked conspicuous like this." She gestured at their revealing outfits. "I promise you, we'll get out of this city, and wherever we end up, I'll buy you the best damn leather jacket in the whole fuckin' state. How 'bout it?" She smiled at her hopefully.

"How are you going to do that, Faith? You're as broke as I am."

"I'll get a job as a stripper." She grinned broadly. "Now come on, let's get underground."

"Okay," Dawn agreed. Her tears had slowed to a trickle, and she had pretty much gotten herself back under control. "I'm sorry, Faith, I'm not usually like this. I mean, not anymore. Not since – "

"It's okay, D," Faith said, gently interrupting her. She leaned forward and gave her a tender kiss on the lips. "Never apologize to me for being you."

Dawn smiled, then started descending the ladder into the sewer. When just her head remained visible, she looked up at Faith and asked, "You wouldn't really get a job as a stripper, would you?"

"Hey, if that's what I had to do to keep a promise to you, I'd do it." She smiled and winked down at her, privately laughing at the shocked expression on her face at Faith's answer.

They had been wandering around the city's sewer system for over twenty-four hours. At one point, they'd found a dry, flat, reasonably clean spot, and had taken turns getting a couple of hours of sleep while the other kept watch.

It was now past three in the morning, and they were going to do something about their current wardrobes, in preparation for getting out of the city. They clothes they'd had on the previous night that had opened so many mouths and hardened so many dicks were dirty, torn, and generally a complete mess. And even if they had still been perfect, they were hardly the types of things you'd wear to blend in and disappear in a crowd. They needed to be a lot more inconspicuous.

"How much money you got?" Faith had asked that afternoon, after a quick peek into her wallet.

Dawn pulled hers out and checked. "Six bucks," she confessed.

"Well, you've got me beat; I've only got four," Faith said glumly. She sighed. All her savings – a couple hundred bucks – were back at the motel. "Guess it's back to the good ol' days," she mumbled.

"Meaning what?" Dawn inquired.

"You'll find out tonight," Faith answered, and refused to say any more. She didn't look happy about it.

Now, Dawn stood at the bottom of a ladder, while Faith popped the manhole cover up an inch or two and looked around. "Looks clear," she called down softly. She raised the cover higher, still looking around. "Okay, it's safe. Let's go, move your ass," she whispered.

Dawn hustled up the ladder, appearing out of it barely an instant after Faith. The slayer slid the cover back into place, and they dashed for the shadows provided by a nearby darkened building. "You know where we're going?" Dawn whispered.

"Yeah, I had a few places in mind. We're going to the one that's closest. Don't worry, this is my old neighborhood; I know where everything is." She turned her head for a moment and offered the younger woman a brief smile.

"I trust you," Dawn muttered.

A minute later, they were there. 'Jerry's Used Threads' the sign over the darkened door read. Faith noticed it and barked a short laugh. "This place used to be 'Tom's Secondhand Clothes,'" she told Dawn. "Either someone's got a wicked retarded sense of humor, or..." She trailed off, letting this sentence go unfinished. When she turned and began walking down the alley on the right side of the building, Dawn followed.

Faith examined the lock on the shop's side entrance for a moment. "I don't know if this place has an alarm or not, so better safe than sorry: get in, grab the first few things you can find, and get out." Dawn's eyes were wide at this prospect – the worst she'd ever done was petty larceny, back when she was fifteen – but she nodded her understanding. "This is the way we used to do it back in the good ol' days, D: want, take, have." Faith sighed and leveled a kick at the door's center, sending it slamming back in it's frame. Sure enough, an alarm began blaring.

They ran inside, grabbed several pairs of jeans, a few t-shirts, sweatshirts, a couple of backpacks, and an assortment of sneakers and boots, shoving everything into a couple of the large cloth bags they found just after entering. The entire thing took less than two minutes.

When the first patrol car finally showed up over five minutes later – this wasn't a high-priority neighborhood – the two intruders were long gone.

One of the improvements Jerry had made after purchasing the shop from Tom had been to have a cheap but effective surveillance camera installed. Before the sun had come up, Dawn Summers was now wanted for burglary in addition to assault.

They went back underground to get clear of the area, then came back up two or three miles away, when they felt they had moved out of the "hot zone."

Luckily, most of the clothes they had nabbed fit, more or less. When they emerged above ground, they were each attired in boots, jeans, t-shirts, and hooded sweatshirts, despite the warm late-September night; Faith's was navy, Dawn's gray. One thing they hadn't been able to get at the store was underwear, which they would have to correct soon. Somehow.

They found an all-nite minimart, and Dawn went in, bought some gum, and exchanged half of their ten bucks in bills for quarters. Faith waited outside, just in case word had gotten out that the cops were looking for two girls matching their description. Hopefully, if they tried to avoid being seen together, people wouldn't even notice them, since they'd likely be looking for a pair.

Dawn came back out, handed Faith half the change, and they headed for the nearest bus stop, walking with almost a full block separating them.

Thankfully, the bus stop wasn't empty, even at nearly four-thirty in the morning. Three young black guys, along with two girls – one black, one white – stood talking loudly with one another, occasionally laughing or giving a playful shove. Faith moved over to the far side of the group and waited, and a minute later, Dawn arrived, staying on the near side. Both kept to the shadows.

When the bus arrived, Faith dashed on board before anyone else, dropping her quarters into the slot. The five young people followed her, and appearing out of the darkness and climbing on just as the driver was about to slide the door shut, was Dawn. They sat as far apart from one another as they could.

The two fugitives tried not to be too conspicuous as they both got off at the same stop. Faith exited from the front doors, and Dawn used the ones near the back. Neither sensed anyone paying any particular attention to them, which was good.

They had reached the nearby city of Framingham, and now found themselves on a business street that was slowly coming to life, the traffic picking up as the sky began to lighten.

What they were about to try was risky, and they had to hope that the two of them hadn't become front-page, headline news yet, or they could be in deep shit. But every day they stayed here increased the danger that much more; Faith told Dawn that they couldn't risk waiting another day. They would still have to do something like this, and the risks tomorrow would be greater than the ones today.

Dawn found a narrow gap between two stores that couldn't even properly be called an alley, and wedged herself into it as best she could. Faith stood by the sidewalk, watching cars pass and looking for a likely candidate. After about three or four minutes, she found one she liked.

"Excuse me!" she called, waving furiously to the driver. He slowed, and then pulled over to the curb, a puzzled expression on his face.

"Help you?" he asked, rolling the window down halfway. He was a young black guy, maybe thirty, well-dressed and driving a Toyota that was several years old, but looked well-maintained.

"Hi," Faith said, putting on her biggest, sweetest smile. "I'd like to ask you a huge favor. You see," she explained, her expression now turning sad, and a little desperate, "my friend and I were supposed to meet my two brothers, who are driving in from Iowa, and they were going to follow us home in our car. Neither one of 'em is all that great at following directions," she confided with a smile. The driver smiled back, and she noticed how his eyes dropped to her chest for a second, even concealed as it was under the hooded sweatshirt. She knew she had him.

"But the thing is, our car broke down a couple of miles back," she continued, growing sad again and looking back in the direction this guy's car had come from. "We can have it towed later today, no problem, but we still have to get to where we're supposed to meet my brothers, or they're not gonna know what to do, where to go, or even what happened to us." Her voice cracked at the end and her lip trembled, as she struggled to hold back tears.

"Where are you supposed to meet?" he asked, his face full of sympathy and understanding.

"The McDonalds at the rest stop just past Wessonville, out on the Pike," she told him. "It's like ten miles from here, right?"

"'Bout that," he agreed. He pressed a button on his armrest, unlocking the two doors on the right side. Faith grabbed the front one and pulled it open, sporting a huge smile of gratitude.

"Thanks so much!" she gushed. She turned and motioned to Dawn, gesturing her to come over. "He'll help us," she said in a tone of obvious relief. "We'll get there; we won't miss 'em after all."

She stifled a laugh as she saw D had no idea what the hell she was talking about.

Part 3
On the Road

"Thanks again," Faith told him as she slammed the door behind her.

"Yeah, thanks," Dawn echoed, climbing out of the back seat.

"Don't mention it," Shawn told them. "Pleasure to help two such pretty ladies. Good luck, and I hope you get your car fixed soon." With a smile and a wave, he drove off.

When he'd disappeared from sight, the two women began scouring the parking lot for their next ride.

"There," Faith pointed to a tall, scrawny bald guy with a nose slightly too large for his face who'd just exited the restaurant. "Excuse me, sir!" she called, walking towards him.

"Yes?" he asked, looking them over.

"Are you heading south? My friend and I are kinda looking for a ride," she explained.

"Sure am," he replied, giving them a wide grin, which was somehow unpleasant in a way neither could precisely put her finger on. "Going to New York on business, after a quick stop in Hartford. Come on, then." He nodded toward his car, resuming his walk toward it. "My name's Carl, by the way."

"I'm Cordy and this is Anya," Faith told him. She caught the look D shot her, and made sure Carl's back was turned before giving her a grin and a wink.

"Well, it'll be nice to have company for the long drive." He put his food on the roof, unlocked the door, then reached over and unlocked the doors on the righthand side. "You wanna ride the whole way, or get off somewhere in between."

"Maybe somewhere about halfway," Faith decided. I just ran out of New York less than a month ago, so probably not a great idea to go back there just yet, even for a day or two. She opened the back door and motioned for Dawn to climb in, then followed after her.

"What, neither one of you wants to ride up front with me?" Carl asked, sounding hurt, and giving them that unpleasant grin once again.

"Sorry, we'd rather sit together," Dawn said simply, making her first contribution to the conversation.

"Suit yourself," Carl shrugged.

Before they had even been on the road for ten minutes, Dawn had scooted over next to Faith, laid her head on the other's shoulder, and fallen asleep, her left hand resting gently on Faith's thigh.

Faith, on the other hand, stayed wide awake and kept her eyes on Carl. She didn't think he was dangerous – at least, not to them – but he wasn't someone she would turn her back on, either.

They had been driving for about an hour, and had just crossed the state line into Connecticut, when Carl yawned, stretched his arms out in front of him, and pulled into the deserted rest stop that came up on their right. "Man, I need a little break from all that driving," he confessed. Faith thought that an hour was awfully fast to get so tired out.

The slowing of the car, and the gentle bearing to the right, would've been almost imperceptible to most any other human, even ones who were wide-awake. The two women in the backseat weren't most other humans, however, even if only one of the two had special powers. Faith was aware the instant that D's eyes opened, scanning the scene to determine what the change in their surroundings was that she had just sensed.

That's my girl, Faith thought without thinking, then repeated the words in her head with something like wonder. "That's my girl?" Oh yeah, I've got it bad. I'm way far gone. Strangely, this was no longer such a scary idea.

"What's going on?" Dawn asked, without a hint of sleep grogginess in her voice.

"Looks like we're taking a break," Faith answered tightly, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on Carl.

"Jeez, how long we been driving?" Dawn complained, looking at the position of the sun in the sky and making an estimate. "What, an hour?"

"'Bout that," Faith confirmed.

They rolled to a stop at the far end of the otherwise empty rest area; the car sat about a hundred yards from the highway, making it very hard for those passing by to see any details of it's interior, even in the scattered sunshine of the partly cloudy day.

Carl opened his door, got out, and closed it behind him. He stretched his arms theatrically, then walked around a bit, making a great show of stretching his legs.

"This what I think it is?" Dawn asked.

"Looks like it. I think Carl wants a little recreation to help get him through the long drive," Faith responded.

Sure enough, he returned to the car, and instead of opening the driver's door, opened the one for the lefthand backseat, sliding in beside Dawn.

Poor Carl just had no idea what type of women he'd picked up this morning.

"You girls feel like having some fun before we get moving again?" he asked, grinning lecherously and placing a hand on Dawn's leg.

Faith woke up to the voice of Axl Rose screaming at her from the car radio, and the feeling of someone poking her in the ribs.

"Hey! Faith! Wake up, dammit!" Dawn demanded.

"What's wrong?" she asked, instantly awake and alert.

"Christ, you turn this shit on – " she motioned to the radio " – crank it up to full, then fall asleep on me. Anyway, we're almost there, so I need you to tell me where we're going."

Faith looked up and read the green reflectorized sign passing overhead: 'Exit 48, Hartford, 2 miles.'

"You coulda let me sleep for another two miles," she grumbled. "And don't call this shit; this is good music."

"You say so," Dawn said dubiously, turning the volume back down to a reasonable level.

As she watched her slow the car slightly and maneuver onto the exit ramp, Faith smiled as she remembered D's reaction when Faith told her she was going to have to drive.

"You can't drive?"

"I can, I just... It's not my best thing, okay?" She was proud of herself for getting this out without a trace of a blush.

"You and my sister," Dawn had laughed. "What, is this a slayer thing, or is it just something about the two of you?"

"Just drive the damn car," Faith had growled, but then added a grin and a playful shove.

"Okay, take a right at this intersection," the slayer directed once they'd cleared the offramp and reached the city of Hartford, Connecticut. She continued to give directions, eventually bringing them to a large mall. "Don't park too close to any of the other cars, but not way the hell away from everything, either," she instructed.

"Sure thing," Dawn agreed, bringing them to a stop in a fairly empty section of the parking lot, with at least ten spaces between them and the nearest car. Wordlessly, they stepped out and walked around to the trunk.

Dawn unlocked it and swung it upward, and they were greeted by Carl's muffled cries and the sour reek of urine. The man had his feet bound with one shoelace, while the other had been used to tie his hands behind his back. His navy blue tie with diagonal red stripes was lodged firmly in his mouth, then tied around the back of his head.

"How ya doin', Carl?" D asked.

Faith herself wasn't sure what 'Mmmpphh!!' meant, but D apparently was.

"That's great. I'd hate to think you'd been uncomfortable all this time. I mean, it's not like we're sadistic or something.

"Now, I bet you're thirsty, huh?"

Another 'Mmmpphh!!' which D was obviously able to translate as 'yes.'

"Alright, well, I'll take that gag off and give you a sip of this nice... cool... refreshing... Coke – " Faith withheld her grin at D's idea of 'non-sadism' only with great effort, " – as long as you promise not to yell or scream for help. 'Cause guess what? I don't see another person anywhere in sight." She made a great show of looking all around; Carl, still in the trunk, had no way of knowing that there were several shoppers getting into and out of their cars just over a hundred yards away.

"And if you do scream, well... I'd have to get angry again. You don't want to see me angry again, do you?" His eyes got very big, and he shook his head vigorously side-to-side. "So do you promise?" He nodded just as vigorously. "Okay. But I'm warning you: behave," she told him, and pulled the makeshift gag down.

Faith reached down and pulled him up a little so that he could drink some of the soda from the can. Once he'd wet his throat a bit, he managed to ask, "What are you going to do with me?"

"Nothing!" D said, sounding offended. "What, you think we're gonna kill you or something?" He gulped, and remained silent. "We're going to leave you right here, and eventually someone will come along and find you and let you out."

She leaned forward, and storm clouds began to gather in her eyes. "But when they do find you, let me give you a good piece of advice: the person who did this to you was a really big guy; you don't really remember what he looked like, because you were so scared." She leaned even further down toward Carl's face, and the menace in her voice reminded Faith once again how far this woman was from the girl she'd known back in Sunnydale. "Now, that's the way it happened, right?"

"You bet," Carl agreed immediately. "A great big guy; never really saw his face. No ma'am, not me."

"That's good, then," D praised, and pulled the gag back into place. "Just relax, and someone will find you soon, I'm sure." She slammed the trunk closed again, and the women walked off toward the road, heading for their next destination.

Carl was found late that night, after the mall had closed for the evening. The manager of the Wal-Mart was the last one to leave, and wondered about the car in the lot with the Massachusetts license plate, and why it was still here so late after closing. She wandered over, heard the muffled cries coming from the trunk, and had her cell phone out in a flash. Police and paramedics arrived a short time later.

Carl was mildly dehydrated, very hungry, and incredibly stiff from having spent over fifteen hours tied up in his trunk. But when the police asked him who had done this to him, he was able to give a very accurate description of the two girls.

When he woke up in the hospital the next morning, two detectives were waiting to show him a couple of pictures. He confirmed that yes, these were the women who'd assaulted him outside a Boston McDonalds, tied him up, and dumped him in his trunk.

Kidnapping, carjacking, and transporting a kidnap victim across state lines were added to the growing list of charges against one Dawn Summers, age twenty-one.

Oh, and another charge of assault. Just for kicks.

It had been a short walk from the mall to the local freight yards. Faith and Dawn sat in a rusted out, abandoned boxcar on one of the distant sidings, waiting for night to fall.

"You've been here before," Dawn said. It came out as half-statement, half-question.

"Yeah," Faith confirmed. "This was one of my stops on my way to Sunnydale that first time. I hitched my way from Boston to Hartford, hopped a train here that took me to St. Louis, hitched across Missouri and Kansas and into Colorado, then caught another freight in Denver that took me all the way to LA. From there, it was just another short hitch to good ol' Sunnyhell."

They were sitting far back in the car, trying to stay out of sight from anyone who might wander by outside and possibly see them through the permanently-rusted-open doors. It was doubtful anyone came out to this section of the yard very often, but they couldn't afford to take chances now.

They sat shoulder to shoulder, backs up against one of the interior walls. Every now and then, D would lean her head on Faith's shoulder, and each time, Faith felt her heart skip a beat.

Fuck, how mushy and sappy am I? she mocked herself. Getting all gooey just because a girl puts her head on my shoulder! I've had people fuck me 'til I couldn't even stand up for hours afterwards, and I never got this feeling then. So why the hell is it happening now? Why is –

"It's getting dark," Dawn observed.

"Yeah," Faith agreed, glad to be snapped out of her current run of thoughts. "We should wait about another half-hour, 'til it's full dark, then we can go find what we're looking for."

"Okay," D said, and put her head back on Faith's shoulder, starting Faith's internal merry-go-'round-of-confused-thoughts once again.

Twenty-five minutes later they were standing up and brushing the rust flakes and other small debris from their clothes, when a noise sounded from outside. A footstep. Then another. Then a rapid series of them.

"Faith – " Dawn called softly, but whatever else she would've said was cut off as the man climbed through the open door of the car.

He could charitably be called human. He was of indeterminate age; he could've been anywhere between thirty and seventy. His clothes were filthy, and his skin and hair were even worse; it was impossible to figure out what his race might be. He had several oozing sores on his face and neck, and a hell of a big one on his lip that disappeared down into the cave of his mouth. On closer inspection, his hair looked like it might be falling out in patches. When he waved his right hand at them, Faith observed the pus that dripped from beneath some of the fingernails. On the whole, though, this was an improvement over the sight of his left hand.

Because in his left hand, he held a gun.

Faith couldn't remember ever being so mad at herself. She'd left herself get so distracted thinking about D and trying to sort out the thoughts and feelings running through her head, that she'd let her concentration on their surroundings drop just a tiny bit, and this apparition had somehow snuck up on them. God, she was such a moron!

"Wow, look at this," the ghoul said. "Two tasty treats, and all for me." The sound of his voice was like a foul wind blowing through spiderwebs. "You two will keep me busy all night, I think." He grinned, revealing several large gaps between the remaining brown teeth.

"Stay away from us if you know what's good for you," Dawn warned, her voice pure ice.

"I think you're what's good for me right now, sweetheart," he told her.

Faith's mind was working furiously, trying to figure out their options. She couldn't do anything at the moment, with him over twenty feet away. As fast as she was, she wasn't faster than a bullet. She would have to get closer, and even then she might have trouble disarming him if he was careful in the way he held the gun on them.

One thing was sure, though: one of them would have to do something before things got to the point that this creature had in mind, because all it took was one glance at him to know that intercourse with him was a guarantee of a slow, putrefying death.

"Who wants to be the first to ride the happy?" he asked, grinning even wider, a sight both women could've done without.

Faith could tell that as anxious as he was to take the two of them for an all-night ride, he was scared of them, as well. That was very bad news, because it meant he'd likely be very cautious with them.

She reached a decision on what she thought their best hope was, and hoped D would play along, because she had no way to let her in on it ahead of time.

"Her!" Faith exclaimed, pointing a shaking hand at Dawn and trying to push herself through the back wall of the boxcar. "Take her first! Please!" She threw her hands up over her eyes and made sobbing noises.

She sensed more than she saw the hurt and shocked expression on D's face as she spun around to look at her. Faith kept her hands up over her eyes, as if trying to blot out the vision of the monster in front of them.

It/he wheezed laughter, saying, "Some friend you got there, missy. Now, c'mere," he instructed. "Ten steps forward." Shaking with rage and fear, Dawn did as she was told.

Knowing his attention would be more on D than on her now, Faith let her fake sobs taper off, and risked a glance between her fingers.

"Take those pants and panties off, then lie down on your back, hands under yer ass. You!" He looked at Faith, and she began to pewl again. "Stay right there, back right up against that wall."

This was cutting it a little closer than Faith had planned. As she watched, Dawn unbuttoned her jeans, yanking them and her panties down around her ankles. The creamy white skin of her legs and buttocks stood out brilliantly in the otherwise dark surroundings. She lay down on the floor of the car, hands under her butt as directed.

Faith tensed; this was it. The would-be rapist – Faith had mentally dubbed him 'Dirty Harry,' although he certainly looked nothing like Clint Eastwood – reached down to his belt and began to undo his fly, using both hands to do so. For a moment, the gun wasn't trained on either of them.

Faith was still nearly twenty feet away, too far to rush him before he could get the gun back up and plug her. That's okay; that had never been her plan. Not all of it, anyway.

When his attention shifted to the tasty young morsel lying near his feet, Faith dropped her left hand to the back pocket of her jeans, withdrew her wallet, and flung it at Harry. The entire thing was done in such a smooth motion, and with such speed, that the greatest wild west gunslingers who ever lived would've just stood there with their mouths hanging open.

The wallet sailed straight and true, striking Dirty Harry dead in the face, stunning him momentarily.

Almost before it had even left her hand, Faith was following it, charging him, exploiting the distraction to the fullest. As she covered the distance between them, she screamed at the top of her lungs; a huge, wordless, inarticulate scream of primal anger and ferocity.

Harry never had a chance. He looked up just in time to get a faceful of wallet, and by the time he'd recovered from that, Faith had reached him, twisting his left hand up behind his back. As she pulled his wrist up closer to the back of his neck, there was a sickening sound like linen ripping. He shrieked, the gun falling from his now-useless hand. Faith pushed him forward, and he went sprawling, the left arm that she had just ripped from it's socket flapping limply.

She leaned down and scooped up the gun; a quick glance behind her showed D already on her feet, re-fastening the buttons on her fly. "You okay?" she asked her.

"Fine," Dawn nodded shakily. "Thanks."

Faith nodded, and turned around to face Dirty Harry again, raising the gun, staring at it like she'd just recognized what it was and what it was for – and what she could do with it.

"Faith..." Dawn called softly, worriedly, having an idea what was on the other's mind.

Faith had hit her absolute low point eight years ago in a Los Angeles apartment, and then moments later in the alley outside. She had tied Wesley up and tortured him for hours – because she could, and because it had actually seemed like fun at the time. It had been a final, desperate attempt to get Angel to kill her once and for all, but she still remembered how much she had enjoyed all the things she'd done to her former watcher that night.

But instead of killing her, Angel had saved her. As he held her crying form in the alley below, rain pouring down, the evil Faith had died once and for all. From that point on she had dedicated herself to living her life like Angel did, admitting and taking responsibility for all she'd done, trying to make amends for it all, knowing she never would but trying anyway. She really believed now that the new and improved Faith was a genuinely good person.

Unfortunately, she was also learning that the road to redemption was fraught with the occasional setback.

There had been that night in Chicago three years ago, the man she'd nearly killed, leaving him bloody and broken in the street after seeing him beating on a little girl who couldn't have been more than four years old; the two assholes in the club back in Boston; and now, Dirty Harry.

She looked down at him, the ogre who'd been planning a fun-filled night of rape of her and the one person in the world who she cared about more than anything; who certainly would've passed on to them all the terrible diseases obviously running through his bloodstream. Who probably would've shot 'em both dead in the morning after they had served their purpose. The evil Faith, dead and buried though she may be, had apparently decided to show up as a ghost in her head and haunt her for a bit. Her grip tightened around the gun, and she thumbed back the hammer.

"Faith," D repeated softly. "Don't. Please."

Faith looked back at her and saw the pleading look in her eyes; the look that silently begged her not to give up all that she'd worked so hard to become in the last eight years. She could almost hear the words, I just found you; please don't let me lose you back to the darkness now, in those brilliant blue eyes.

She turned to Harry one last time, and nearly went ahead and blew his ass to hell anyway. But at the very last instant, she saw D's eyes again in her mind.

Slowly, very slowly, she lowered the gun and eased the hammer back down. She heard D exhale loudly behind her.

"Thank you, Faith," she said, and came up behind her, wrapping her arms around the slayer's stomach.

"You should just thank your sorry ass that I'm not evil anymore," she told Dirty Harry. D actually managed a soft, relieved laugh at that.

The darkened countryside flew by outside the open door of the boxcar. They'd pass through long stretches of nearly total darkness, which signified woods and farms, then into more settled areas, lit by streetlights, headlights, and the soft lights coming through the windows of homes and small businesses. Finally, the large cities, which were nearly a solid mass of lights of every size and color imaginable, dominated by yellow/white, along with a fair helping of red from the hundreds, or maybe thousands, of automobile taillights.

They had searched Harry and found a cheap-looking knife, which Dawn pocketed, and a wad of bills. Once they had located a westbound train and Faith had broken the lock on one of the car doors, they sat down inside and finally began to relax a little. While they did, Dawn had counted up the money.

"Eighty-seven dollars, all in ones and fives," she reported. "Not bad."

"Yeah, great," Faith had agreed, sounding anything but happy.

"What?" Dawn had asked.

"How do you think he got that money, D? Paper route?"

"Oh," Dawn had said softly, a look of understanding crossing her face. The realization that they were holding money that had probably once belonged to someone who'd likely been killed to obtain it made it a little hard to savor their sudden good fortune.

It was the middle of the night now, probably past two, and Faith guessed they might be somewhere in Ohio, though it was really impossible to tell. She sat behind Dawn, arms wrapped loosely around her, chin resting on the top of D's head.

"I'm sorry," she told her, breaking the silence that had stretched out for who-knew-how-many miles.

"'Bout what?" Dawn asked, craning her head around to look at her.

"All of it. What happened back there, how far you had to take it before I could help you; getting you in this mess in the first place... You're still living this shitty life, but now with the added bonus of having the cops chasing you, too. You would've been so much better off if you'd just never run into me back in Boston," she finished, and as she spoke the words she suddenly understood just how true they were. God, it wasn't bad enough she'd fucked up her own life beyond all possibility of salvation; now she'd done the same thing to D, as well. Way to go, asshole. She looked away, unable to meet D's gaze.

"Faith, look at me," D said. The words were soft, but there was no missing the no-nonsense tone of command behind them. Reluctantly, Faith complied.

"All I can say about what happened back in that car is: thank you. You couldn't have done anything sooner, and if it hadn't been for you, it would've gone even further. I don't know if he would've actually succeeded or not, but I'm just so thankful you were there to save me from having to find out. You're like my knight in shining armor or something." She smiled, and gently kissed a stunned Faith on the lips.

"And as for the position we're in," she continued after reluctantly breaking the kiss, "I wouldn't want to be anywhere else on earth right now."

"No, D, if – "

"Faith," Dawn interrupted quietly. "I told you a lie once. That night in the bar, three weeks ago, I said I didn't know you were the new slayer in town that I'd heard about. But that's not true; I actually did know."

"I know."

"You knew? How?" Dawn demanded.

"You may do a lot of things well, D, but lyin' ain't one of 'em," Faith confided, and in spite of herself she felt a small smile cross her lips.

"Oh. Well, good. Because then you should be able to tell that I'm not lying when I tell you that this is the place I want to be right now, and you're the person I want to be with. Or am I lying?"

Faith searched her face, and listened to her tone, but couldn't find a trace of a lie. Reluctantly, she admitted, "No, you're not." But how was that possible? D was actually willing to risk going to jail just to be with her? She'd never thought she was even worth risking your library card over.

"I wanted to find you," Dawn said, picking the story up again, "but I had no idea where to look. Tough to find wanted fugitives when they don't want to be found," she told her with a small half-smile. "So I did about the only thing I could think of: I went to Boston. I knew that was where you were from, so I thought eventually you might decide to go back. Imagine how lucky I felt when I found you after just a month."

"You don't know how lucky you were: I only went back there because I had absolutely no other choice. I was on the run from New York, and I'd already worn out my welcome in Pennsylvania before that, so Boston was the closest big city around. Believe me, D, with the way my life was when I was growin' up, I would rather have gone just about anyplace in the world other than back to Boston."

"Oh," Dawn whispered, digesting this information. "Lucky me, then, I guess."

"Why were you looking for me?" Faith asked softly.

"Because! Because... I just, y'know... wanted to find you," she stammered, blushing and glancing away. For just a moment, she looked like the young teenage girl Faith remembered.

Faith grinned, knowing perfectly well what the reason was behind this awkward response. Well, 'magine that. No wonder she was so quick to shimmy out of her clothes that night.

Suddenly Faith badly needed to lay D out and screw the shit out of her, 'til her eyes crossed and her legs wouldn't work anymore. It had been what, three days since they'd had sex? Way too long, and Faith was getting itchy. She reached further around, cupping D's breasts, and prepared to throw her down on the floor of the freight car and see how loud she could make her scream.

But in the instant before she did, it was like a light went on in the back of her brain, and that strange feeling that had been floating around in her head all day, just out of reach, was clear: she loved D. Completely and totally. She knew she should've seen this coming, but it staggered her all the same. She, Faith, loved Dawn Summers. Holy shit.

Okay, so now the question became, what did she do about it?

Tell her? Faith had never done that before. In the quarter-century she'd been alive, she'd only ever loved one other person, and had never worked up the nerve to tell her.

And of course, people never told Faith they loved her. Christ no! That wasn't what Faith was for. Faith was there to spread her legs and give you a few minutes' satisfaction, then get the hell out of your life. She was just a whore, with the added bonus that she didn't charge. Wasn't she? Hadn't everyone, even her own junkie mother, told her that her whole life?

Well, one person had told her he loved her once, hadn't he? And how had she responded?

What if she told D, and she reacted the way Faith had all those years ago? If that happened, Faith didn't know what she'd do. At this point, she knew that her life wouldn't even be worth living without D by her side. (And as if I needed another problem on top of everything else, I'm also gettin' wicked sappy.)

If she couldn't actually come out and tell D how she felt with words – not yet, anyway – maybe she could show her, at least. The way she'd tried to show Buffy years ago. She knew she'd done a pretty bad job of it back then, but maybe she could learn from her mistakes.

She took her hands off D's breasts, gently stroking her arms, instead. Fucking her brains out on the floor of a moving boxcar was definitely not the way to communicate this feeling – it was hardly the most romantic setting.

She decided she was going to give D a night she'd never forget, a night that would prove beyond a shadow of a doubt just how Faith felt about her. And just maybe, if it went as well as she hoped, she'd find the courage to actually tell her, too.

"I'm glad I'm here with you, D," she whispered; it was the best she could manage at the moment.

"I am, too, Faith. More than anything."

The freight train thundered along under the dark Ohio sky.

New Orleans, late-2003

The bed creaked again, and it's two occupants collapsed on it, completely wiped.

'Damn, boy,' Faith panted, grinning. 'Do you ever get tired out?'

'I think the answer to that right now is an obvious "yes,"' Robin answered, rolling onto his side and slipping an arm around Faith's sweat-covered stomach. 'But I admit, you do inspire me to new heights.' He leaned forward, brushed the wet hair out of the way, and kissed the back of her neck.

'Yeah, well, you do a pretty good job of getting it done for me, too,' she told him, taking the hand on her stomach and moving it up until it rested on her breast.

'I don't think I've told you before, Faith, but these last few months with you have been some of the best of my life.' He gently kissed her neck again. 'I love you, Faith,' he said softly.

Faith froze; she became as stiff and as still as a corpse. Loved her? What kind of shit was this? No one loved her – she was Faith. She wasn't built for love, just sex and kicking the shit out of vampires.

So what kind of game was Robin playing? They'd had a good enough thing going, she'd thought. They hung out together, they slayed vamps and demons, they wore out countless mattresses in countless motel rooms. So what more was he looking for from her? What was he expecting from her, demanding from her?

She heard Robin's breathing slow as he waited nervously for her response. When more and more time went by and none was forthcoming, she felt him begin to tense. Eventually, he took his hand from her breast, got up, and left the room. The sound of the shower running in the bathroom became audible.

When he returned, he climbed under the covers, keeping a distance between them, and rolled over so that he was facing away from her. After what seemed like an interminable wait, she heard the slow, regular breathing that indicated he had fallen asleep.

Faith slowly and carefully got up from the bed, making sure not to wake him, and began to collect her stuff. She didn't bother with a shower.

Robin awoke the next morning to discover he was alone in the room. He looked around and saw that all Faith's belongings were gone, as well. A piece of paper lay on the nightstand.

Robin,

I dont know what to say. The last few months have been great but I think you obviously want something from me that I cant give you. I think I should leave before I screw up your life any worse.

Take care of yourself,

Faith

Robin crumpled the paper up and fired it across the room. Some unknown amount of time later, he felt the traces of wetness in the corners of his eyes.

Blinking it away, he got up and started packing his own things.

Faith awoke in the first light of dawn, the sweat the nightmare had caused already drying, the image of the New Orleans motel room fading.

"Bad dream, huh?" Dawn asked.

Faith looked up, noticing that D had pulled her head into her lap sometime after she'd fallen asleep. Now, the younger woman looked down at her, an expression of concern and sympathy on her face.

"Ancient history," Faith replied, sitting up. Ignoring the funky taste in her mouth, she gave D a long, thorough good morning kiss.

"I think, wherever we're going, we're almost there," Dawn reported. "We've been slowing down gradually for awhile now."

"That musta been what woke me up," Faith mumbled.

Unseen by Faith, Dawn looked at her skeptically. "Uh-huh."

D was right, Faith saw as she looked out the open door. They weren't traveling as fast as they'd been when she went to sleep, and they were passing through the outskirts of another large city. In fact...

"Holy shit!" she marveled, then fell silent. She took in the sights passing by, trying to confirm her suspicions.

"Uh... hello? 'Holy shit!' what?" Dawn asked, sounding irritated.

"It's St. Louis," Faith told her. "I managed to catch the same damn train nine years later."

"Cool," Dawn said, not sounding all that interested in this little piece of trivia. "Are we stopping here?" she inquired.

"Uh, no, I think we'd better go a little further west," Faith decided after a moment's consideration.

"Gonna be a little tough hopping a new train in broad daylight," Dawn pointed out.

"Yeah, unfortunately."

Dawn, with Faith keeping a firm grip on her, leaned a little ways out the door and looked ahead. When Faith pulled her back in, she reported that she thought she could see the train yards in the distance. Faith nodded. "Close enough," she said, and slid the door nearly all the way closed, so that only a couple of inches of daylight remained visible.

The train came to a stop a few minutes later. No one was in sight when they cautiously stuck their heads out, so they quickly climbed down, making their way across several pairs of tracks, trying to stay close to buildings and train cars and away from open areas where they could be more easily spotted.

After a short search, they found another freight that was pointed west, with engines that looked like they were warming up and preparing to leave. A couple of dozen cars back from the head of the train, Faith again broke the lock on a car door, and they climbed inside.

They had to wait for about an hour, but soon they found themselves traveling west again, before many of the residents of St. Louis had even had breakfast.

Part 4
Houston

Wherever they were, they arrived there in the middle of that night. Faith declared that yes, they'd gone far enough. They made their way out of the yard, a task that was much easier to do at night than in daylight.

"Well, guess that answers that question," Dawn said, pointing to a newspaper dispenser. 'Houston Chronicle' the legend on the side announced. "Been here before?"

"Once upon a time," Faith replied. "Decent amount of vamp and demon activity here as I remember."

They walked several blocks before they finally found a motel. Rooms were twenty bucks a night, the greasy, overweight guy behind the desk told them. They paid for a single room for two nights. Neither one could possibly miss the look he was giving the two of them, or the way his eyes kept traveling up Faith's body, down Dawn's, then back up Dawn's, down Faith's, then repeating the circuit.

Dawn leaned over the counter, motioning to him with her finger to come closer. He did.

"Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered conspiratorially.

"Sure!" he agreed enthusiastically, leaning even further forward.

"I just have this feeling you're already thinking of excuses you might find to hang around outside our room, maybe thinking you might hear something interesting through the door or see something even more interesting through the curtains. You should probably know ahead of time that if I find you within twenty feet of room number – " She glanced down at the key in her hand, " – nine, you'll be picking your balls out of your nostrils.

"Have a nice night!" she said sweetly, turned, and walked from the office. Faith gave her a huge grin, then slapped her firmly on the ass as she walked by, smirking at the clerk as she did so.

"Nice," she praised softly.

He sat and watched them leave, his chin nearly scraping on his desk. He decided he'd stay as far away from unit #9 as he could.

"Wonder if that guy's ever had a boner and been terrified for his life at the same time," Faith chuckled, shutting the door behind her.

She had barely turned around before she was practically knocked off her feet. She stumbled backwards, hitting the door hard, D's tongue seemingly trying to push it's way completely down her throat and into her stomach. "Mmmnnhh!" she said, surprised, then brought her hands up to clutch D's back, and began returning the kiss.

She was so lost in the feel of D's lips, her skin, her hair, that she was absolutely stunned when she looked down and noticed that they were both naked. When did that happen?

"As great as this is, we're both filthy," Dawn observed when she managed to catch her breath.

"Shower," Faith replied, a bit breathless herself, nodding toward the door on the back wall. That single word seemed to be all she was capable of at the moment.

"Thank God," D said. She took a step back, clearing a path for her lover. "Now, get in that shower, woman," she instructed in a voice that was barely more than a growl. "You're going to get me nice and clean, and I'm going to do the same for you." Her eyes were heavy with desire, burning with lust.

"And after we're done with that, I'm going to eat a nice, long, sweet breakfast," she added, her hand coming to rest between Faith's legs. "Now go!"

Faith wasn't sure her legs were going to carry her all the way over to the bathroom door; they felt awfully wobbly right now. One thing she'd learned during the last three weeks was that while D didn't get like this often, when she did, Faith responded to it like she'd never have believed possible.

"Okay," she agreed obediently, gazing back at Dawn through suddenly heavy-lidded eyes.

Her legs didn't collapse on her, and the two women emerged – eventually – from the bathroom feeling cleaner than they had in days. They also emerged feeling more aroused than they had in days, as well, and spent a long time afterwards doing something about it.

They woke up late that afternoon from the first good long sleep they'd had since the night before their ill-fated trip to the club back in Boston. Faith suggested they go do some shopping, pick up some necessities, and Dawn agreed, saying she had an errand she wanted to run, too.

They stopped at a nearby drug store and bought toothbrushes, toothpaste, mouthwash, hairbrushes, and a few other items. Next up was a department store where they picked out clothes that were a little more their style, and finally managed to solve the growing underwear crisis.

It turned out that Dawn's "errand" was at a little hole-in-the-wall place imaginatively titled 'Dan's Pawn Shop.' She walked up to the counter and unwrapped the bundle in her hands, which had been wrapped in one of the spare t-shirts she'd filched back in Boston. It was Dirty Harry's gun, unloaded and carefully wiped clean of fingerprints (the bullets had been thrown out of the speeding boxcar somewhere in northeastern Texas).

"Twenty bucks," the clerk – Dan, presumably – offered in a flat, businesslike voice.

"One hundred," Dawn answered in a nearly identical tone.

"Thirty-five."

"Eighty."

"Fifty."

"Sixty-five."

"Fine, sixty-five," Dan agreed, taking the gun and placing it behind the counter. He counted out the correct amount, then wrote out a claim stub which he handed to Dawn. She thanked him, and they turned and left. She balled the stub up and tossed it in a nearby gutter.

With the cash they'd taken from Harry, and the money they'd just made off pawning his gun, they were much better off financially than they'd been a couple of days ago. But the room, and all the stuff they'd bought this afternoon, had cut a large chunk out of that amount, and they knew that one or both of them would have to find work soon, or they'd be living under a bridge less than a week from now.

"D, duck!"

Dawn ducked, and narrowly missed being beheaded by the demon's foot-long razor-sharp claws.

"Shit, Faith, I can't fight mine and worry about yours at the same time! Take care of your own damn demon!" Apparently trusting that Faith would do just that, Dawn turned back to concentrate on her own opponent.

Their first full night in town, and their first patrol, and they'd run into a pair of demons that neither could identify. They'd come prepared to fight vamps and most average demons, but not something with four claws on each hand, all of them over a foot long and incredibly sharp. They had stakes; what they needed were swords. Big ones.

"First thing tomorrow – " Faith yelled, sidestepping a thrust aimed at disemboweling her, " – we're going to the nearest army-navy surplus, and picking out two of the biggest fuckin' Bowie knives you've ever seen." She leaned further backward than any normal human could, thanks to her slayer agility and balance, and the claws headed for her throat missed by less than two inches. Almost immediately, she jumped high into the air, avoiding the razors coming towards her knees.

"Good idea," Dawn agreed, doing her best to hold up against the onslaught. She didn't have Faith's slayer abilities – or the right weapon – and she was having difficulty just keeping her insides from being let out onto the ground in a steaming pile, and her parts all attached in the right places.

Faith's demon made a diagonal slash at her, and she saw her opening. She caught it's right wrist in her grip, twisted it so it was pointing at it's stomach, then kicked it's foot out from under it. As it lost it's balance, she yanked it forward, causing it to come crashing down on it's own hand, the long claws slicing right through it's stomach. An instant later, it was dead.

She jumped up and ran to help Dawn, but was a split-second too late.

"D!" she screamed, as one of the claws on it's hand got past Dawn's defenses and slid deep into her side. A look of shocked amazement crossed her face, and her hands fell limply to her side. The demon roared in triumph, and raised it's other hand up, preparing to strike and finish her off.

Just before it could, however, Faith blindsided it with a jumping side-kick that sent it sprawling. D screamed again as the claw was pulled free of her body.

Fueled by her rage and her need to get to D and take care of her as soon as possible, Faith made quick work of the second demon, inwardly cursing herself and pointing out that if she'd been this quick and efficient with the first one, D wouldn't be bleeding to death a few feet away.

The creature hadn't even finished it's last breath before Faith was at Dawn's side, inspecting the wound, telling her that she was going to be fine, that she'd be up and kicking ass by the end of the week.

And when she got Dawn's shirt up a little and uncovered the wound, she saw that that might actually be true. Well, maybe not the end of the week part, but the rest of it. It was deep – it had gone completely through her, in fact – but not wide, and she'd been lucky and agile enough to avoid the other three claws on the hand. And if it had hit an artery, D would probably already be dead.

Faith ripped the bottom half off of both hers and Dawn's tanks, balling the rags up and pressing them against the entry and exit wounds, trying to staunch the bleeding.

She was never able to remember quite how she'd done it afterwards, but somehow Faith managed to get Dawn back to their motel a few blocks away without hurting her too badly, and keeping the makeshift bandages held firmly in place.

When she was able to look a little more closely, Faith felt pretty sure that D really needed a few stitches to close each wound, but was terrified to risk taking her to a hospital. She thought they'd be safe enough here in Houston for awhile, but not if they went walking into someplace so public as a hospital. After all this, could they let it end with the cops arresting them as they sat in some examining room while a bored doc sewed D up?

No, she'd give it a couple of days, and see how she healed on her own. If there was no marked improvement, she'd consider taking D to a hospital at that point.

In the meantime, she did everything she could for her. As soon as she'd made sure D was comfortable in bed, Faith ran out to the drug store, buying alcohol, bandages, and some pills to help with the pain. She disinfected the wound, applied the bandages, got her to swallow a couple of the pills, then stayed up all night, watching over D while she slept.

Two days later, as Faith had feared, things hadn't improved much. D needed real medical help.

Even worse, they were nearly out of money. Getting a job would mean leaving D alone all afternoon, and she couldn't do that. Dawn couldn't make it that long on her own yet; she needed someone there to look after her, get her food and drinks, help her to the bathroom.

So Faith could get a job and leave her alone for hours and hours each day, a situation she knew the younger woman wasn't able to handle at this point; or she could stay home and take care of her, and they'd be living on the street in a couple of days, something that definitely wouldn't do much for D's recovery.

Or she supposed she could just go mug someone, but she reluctantly dismissed that option. Being evil was just so much more convenient sometimes, she realized with a sigh.

When the answer hit her, it was so stunningly obvious that she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it sooner. In fact...

Wow, this could really work out perfect, couldn't it?

"D? Do you think you'd be alright on your own for about an hour? I have to go take care of something."

"Yeah, go ahead, Faith. I'll be fine." She smiled bravely, but there was no mistaking the weakness in her voice.

I'd better hurry.

She stopped first at the local library, and used one of their computers to do some research on the internet. This wasn't something she'd had much experience with, and it took her a little longer than it would have for most people; especially since she could hardly ask for help, given what it was she wanted to look up.

When she finally found what she was looking for, her worst fears were confirmed. She turned off the computer and left the building in a hurry, more intent than ever on finding a phone – and quickly.

"Information, please. I need a number in Los Angeles," Faith told the operator. She gave her the name. "Something toll-free would be best," she added. A moment later, she was copying it down on a scrap of paper.

She punched it into the phone and waited.

"Wolfram and Hart," a pleasant female voice answered after the second ring.

"Hi, uh, I need to talk to Angel," Faith told her.

"I'm sorry, but Angel has a very busy schedule and can't personally take an interest in every case we handle. Would you like to make an appointment to meet with one of our junior partners?" the annoyingly pleasant, yet completely dry and businesslike voice asked.

"Listen, lady, I need to talk to Angel, and I need to talk to him right... the fuck... NOW! So get on your little intercom and tell him Faith is on the phone and wants to speak with him. Because if you don't, when I finally do get in touch with him, I'm going to tell him all about how the numb bitch who answers the phones there wouldn't let me through, and I know enough about how things work at that place to figure out what'll happen to you then!" Faith fumed, unconsciously clenching and unclenching her right fist; the left held the phone in a deathgrip. Somehow she'd expected things would still work like the old days at good ol' Angel Investigations: call up and ask to talk to the boss, and they'd put him right on.

"Umm... just a moment, please," the voice replied, sounding nervous and uncertain now. Canned muzak came on, and Faith waited for what seemed like a half-hour.

"Faith?"

"Angel! Thank God!" she exclaimed, exhaling deeply.

"How are you? Is everything all right?" Angel inquired, obviously concerned. Man, it was so good to hear his voice after all these years!

"No, everything isn't. I've got a problem I need help with. Christ, for a little while I didn't think they were going to let me talk to you," she confessed. "When D told me you were running that place, I didn't really believe it. What the hell are you doing there, Angel?" she asked. She just couldn't figure out why Angel would agree to take over the law firm otherwise known as Evil Incorporated.

"Doing the best I can, Faith, but it's not easy some days. Anyway, if there's anything I can do to help you, you know I will.

"And who's Dee?"

Faith sighed, and started at the beginning. She told of meeting Dawn in Boston, the run-in at the nightclub, the incident with Carl, and the accident of two nights ago that had the younger woman in bed with two holes in her side. She left out the more personal aspects of their relationship, figuring Angel didn't need to know quite that much.

"I just did a little research, Angel, and Dawn's wanted on a whole shitload of charges. Twenty-or-thirty-years-in- prison kind of stuff when you add it all together. And none of it's her fault. About the worst thing she did was help me steal some clothes from that store back in Boston. The rest of it... the thing at the club, she just knocked her guy out; he was probably fine the next day. I'm the one who lost it on the other two.

"Carl, well, he caused the whole fuckin' thing. D just got him under control and out of the way for a few hours; she didn't even hurt the asshole." Faith was rambling now.

"Angel, she can't go to jail for piddly shit like this. Is there something you can do about it?"

She heard Angel sigh. "I don't know, Faith. This sounds pretty damn serious. I believe you about all of it, but if the warrants have already been issued, then the authorities apparently don't think her role was quite so minor." He paused, and sighed again.

"Okay, listen, let me talk to Gunn, have him look into it and see what he can do."

"Gunn?" Faith was confused. "I'm sorry, but how exactly is Denzel going to help in this situation?"

"Long story. Short version is, he's the best lawyer we've got. If anyone can get Dawn cleared, it'll be him."

"Okay, you know what you're doing, I guess," Faith agreed dubiously.

"That all?"

"Not quite," she replied. "Uh, look, the thing is, we're kinda running low on cash. I can't get a job and leave D alone all day, but if I don't, we're gonna be out on the street in another coupla days. We could really use a little to tide us over until she's okay. Then we can look out for ourselves, like always."

"How much do you need?"

"I don't know, three or four hundred?"

"No problem," he told her. "Where should I send it?"

"Wire it to me here in Houston, under the name of, uh, Dixie Riggins," she instructed. Dixie had been her cellmate, once upon a time.

"Okay, fine. How can I get in touch with you?"

"You can't. Too risky. Do you have a direct number I can use, so I don't have to go through the stupid bitch at the front desk again?" He gave it to her, and she wrote it down on her scrap of paper. "Okay, great. I'll call you back tomorrow at about this time."

"Fine. Be careful, Faith."

"I will. Thanks, Angel."

"You're welcome. And Faith?"

"Yes?"

"Good to hear your voice again."

"You too, Soul Boy." She grinned and hung up.

Faith returned to the motel, figuring she'd give Angel a couple of hours to send the money before she went to collect it.

She really hoped Angel – and Gunn, apparently – could get the charges against D dropped, but that was a distant, long-term worry right now. The immediate concern was their cash situation, and hopefully she'd just solved that for the time being.

And she'd decided that no matter what she heard from Angel tomorrow afternoon, she was taking D to the hospital right afterwards. It would be better if she wasn't a wanted woman any longer at that point, but no matter what, Faith wasn't letting it go any longer. In fact, she was beginning to seriously consider just saying 'fuck it,' and taking her in right now. Only her faith in Angel, believing he might really be able to help them, was stopping her.

Of course she knew that even if D wasn't wanted anymore, there was still the chance they could be identified and she herself could be caught. But that possibility was much easier to live with if it was just her, knowing that D would still be free.

"Hey," she said softly, closing the door behind her.

"Hey," Dawn replied weakly.

Faith gently sat down on the bed and carefully leaned herself against her lover. "Any change?"

"Nope," Dawn told her. After a minute, she added, "Thanks for doing all this for me, Faith."

"Hey, that's what I'm here for, D," she replied lightly, then grew more serious. "If I'd been quicker, you wouldn't even be in this position."

"That's not true; you did the best you could. Thank you." She gripped Faith's hand and held on tightly.

"Faith, can I ask you a favor?"

"You know you can."

"If something happens to me – "

Faith interrupted her. "Nothing's going to happen to you, D. You're going to be fine. I personally fuckin' guarantee it," she told her forcefully.

"If something happens to me," Dawn repeated patiently, "I need you to find my sister and give her a message. Maybe you're right; maybe I'll be fine. I hope so. But I could recover completely, and get killed by something completely different next month. Or get hit by a bus. Now, will you promise?"

"Okay," Faith agreed quietly. "What do you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did three years ago, and tell her that I wished nearly every day afterwards that I could take it back. I even blamed her partly for Kait's death, because I knew that if we hadn't had that fight, Kait never would've ended up dead two years later. So tell her I'm sorry for that, too, because it wasn't Buffy's fault; it was mine." Tears were leaking from Dawn's eyes, but she wasn't crying yet.

"I told you before, D, Kait's death wasn't your fault," Faith told her, gently but firmly.

"Maybe not," Dawn replied, but with obvious skepticism.

"I'll tell her," Faith promised.

"Aren't you going to ask what happened between Buffy and me? What the fight was about?" Dawn asked a short time later.

"I didn't think it was my business, that you'd tell me if you wanted me to know."

"I stole something of hers," Dawn confessed, looking over at Faith.

"What was it?" Faith asked. She was mildly curious, but mostly she realized that D needed to tell this story now. The answer she got was one of the greatest shocks of her life.

"A picture of you."

Faith tried to think of something to say, but couldn't. Buffy had had a picture of her? Why? Maybe just to remind herself what a bitch Faith was? 'Note to self: don't end up like her,' that kind of thing?

"I found it in with her stuff one day when I was looking for something she'd asked me to get for her," Dawn continued, now looking away and missing the stunned look on Faith's face. "She came in and found me holding it, and flipped out, yelling at me for looki