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I know what I want tonight, and I see it coming off the street.
I'm going nowhere and I'm only seventeen.
Walking down the street. Badass girl, Faith was. Snapping her gum and swaying her hips, just looking for some action. Hands shoved deep into the pockets of her brand new leather coat, the one the Mayor had bought for her that very morning. He had slipped it onto her shoulders like a dad, admiring the cut and the way it brought out the highlights of her hair and saying it would be good and warm for those strangely cold Sunnydale nights.
Yeah, Faith was a badass. There was no one who met her who didn't see that this girl was the shit, the very epitome of a wicked chick. She was buzzed tonight, too. Time to relieve some stress the old-fashioned way.
After all, slaying was out of the question. The Boss had most of the vamps in town working for him, and they hadn't responded too kindly when they found out the Mayor's new right hand man was a chick. A chick who liked to beat the shit out of them, and then turn them into dust, no less. Dusting more of them would get rid of her stress, yeah; unfortunately, it might also get her killed.
Whatever.
So, she was on the hunt again. And not for anything this time. Just anyone. Simple stress relief.
Reminded her of the old days in Boston. When she just wanted to get out of the house, away from Mom and the little sis, she'd go out walking and pick up guys. Guys in Boston were always ready for a good hit and run: wham, bam, "that was great, I gotta shower." Not like these Sunnydale guys, all sensitive and caring, always looking for a "connection." Hell, Faith was barely seventeen and she knew that that wasn't how it worked.
She knew how it really did work. The fun way.
I know about gettin' it on, and I want a little piece of you.
I'm thinking about taking a bite if you know what I mean.
Oh yeah. Fun, fun, fun, until her daddy took the T-bird away. Not that she'd ever had a T-bird. Or a daddy, for that matter. Anyway, point was, all these soulful losers in this town needed to wise up fast. Hell, if all guys were like Xander, or Angel, or even Oz the whipped little wolf, Faith would never get laid. Or whenever she did, they would give her that wounded puppy when she tried to kick them out of her place. She could still remember the discombobulated look on Xander's face as she had put his boxers on him, handed him his clothes, and shoved him out the door.
She could also remember the look on his face as he writhed underneath her, face turning slowly purple as she licked his temple. Fucking Angel and his stupid fucking bat, had to bust in on them.
People were always trying to ruin her fun.
So don't try stopping my buzz, 'cause I'm checkin' it out!
And I don't care about you, 'cause I'm checkin' it out!
And now she was street-girl again, having to resort to staking out the worst parts of town until someone sleazy enough came along. This was a pretty big town. There had to be at least one sleazy jackass who'd like to screw her. She could take him back to the 'immoral liaisons' motel and fuck him senseless, and the Mayor wouldn't ever even have to know. That way he could be proud of "his girl," and she could be all loose and happy. Win-win situation.
In a lot of ways, this was exactly like Boston. Not like the actual location, although Crummy Street seemed to exist in both places, but just the situation. Out lookin' for fun of the non-violent kind. Or, probably of the non-violent kind. That was the good part of working for the Mayor: anyone pissed her off, and body disposal was easy. She was even getting use to the 'dispersing the bits' part. And her mom had always said she was a slow learner.
Thinking about Mom, though, made her start thinkin' about little sis. Dawn, little Dawnie; she was right around twelve by now. Faith had hated having to leave her behind, but it was either that or bring her along while she learned about being a Slayer, and a foster home was really safer, right? Had to be. After all, Maddy was dead, and Faith had almost gone the way of her watcher. Little kid like Dawn...she would've just been vamp bait.
It hurt Faith to think about it. Really, it felt more like desertion than anything else Faith had ever done, even more than stabbing the Scoobies in the back. The look on Dawn's face as she was put into the back of the car, taken to the group home...
There was a lot she had wanted to teach little sis. Like, how a girl could be strong, very very strong. Faith had always been strong, even before being called. She was the one the boys played touch football with; she was the one the boys touched tentatively in the locker room after school. Her eyes lifted to the ceiling, happy little glow in her eyes as she realized how someone else's hands on her could make her feel... When she realized that this, this was power.
She wanted to teach Dawn that she should always, always be the one on top. And not just during sex either, during everything. Love dating sex talking friendship hatred anything. You had to be in control.
Get it boy, it's a lot from me, and I think I'm gonna get some now.
I've got a little sister and I'm gonna teach her how.
And now she was the little sis, the black sheep of the family. Now she was-
Bingo.
That one, the boy who'd just walked out of the bar. His hair was short and uncombed; it looked soft and disheveled. His head was down, and he was wearing an old army jacket. Swaying slightly, like he was drunk.
The poor thing really had 'victim' written all over him, as surely as Faith had 'survivor' etched on her forehead in invisible but blinding lights. Lucky for him, Faith wasn't looking for a victim tonight. Just a somewhat willing partner in a little mindless fun. Maybe she'd even take the motel room for the night. If he was lucky, that is. And good.
Time for some fun, the real good kind. Time to take a little bite, and see if it was more than she could chew.
I know about gettin' it on, and I want a little piece of you.
I'm thinking about taking a bite and I'm gonna right now.
Oh no. Oh no. I don't care what you wanna do.
Oh no. Oh no. I'm checkin' it out. That's right.
