True Faith

Yay for the reviewlove. I think I actually know what's happening in this story. Is that a good thing? I don't know.


*

Buffy crossed her arms and headed down the street, hugging herself slightly against the cool, damp wind. She was watching her feet and not where she was going, so when the familiar voice shouted, "Buffy! Wait!" she spun around so fast she nearly walked into a sign post.

Faith, she thought, and almost said it out loud. Except it wasn't. Except it was. She looked ely lly like Faith, and she looked nothing like her. Put the two of them side by side in a police lineup and nobody would have been able to tell one from the other.

But there were differences that Buffy could see. The long, wavy dark hair was too light--almost chestnut rather than black. Her face was beautiful, had always been beautiful, but where Faith's entire expression screamed sex-on-a-stick, this girl was softer. Her look was completely different, too. Those gold hoops in her ears were more Buffy's style, and the comfortable clothes and lumpy, weled hed handbag would have been right at home on a college campus, not a seedy bar.

Plus, there was the way she talked. No biting sarcasm, no lips that looked as comfortable around a cigarette as they did around a curse. Maybe she had her own ghosts, but Tru Davies had never known pain as Faith had.

And...when she'd held Tru's hand--

No slayer-tingles. Cool skin, not Faith's raging heat. Just human. Nothing special. Probably everyone had a doppelganger somewhere in the world. Six billion people on the planet, so probably odds were that you looked like one other individual. Very logical. Just a passing resemblance.

So why did Buffy want nothing more than to believe her eyes?

Buffy waited for Tru to catch up with her and wondered why in hell everything had to happen to her. Not everything--just everything weird and supernatural that could stuff itself into her life somehow managed it.

Vacation. Was there nothing simple about that? Go to Canada. Nice people who speak English, mostly. Beautiful cities. Luxurious hotels. Educational attractions. And, in the summer, really long hours of daylight. What more could one out-sourced Slayer ask for?

Certainly not this. Not Faith.

She wasn't Faith.

Faith was off on a hey-let's-try-settling-down tour of Cleveland, hand in hand with Principal Robin Fucking Wood.

Like that's going to last, Buffy thought, and then felt guilty for hoping it wouldn't.

Everybody had found love on the Hellmouth except her. What she got was a stalker-turned-lover-turned-bonfire and a really messed up sense of metaphor.

Was that fair?

Tru jogged up to her. "Hey." She shoved her hands in her pockets.

(Nervous, Buffy thought--something Faith would never let you see.)

"So were you serious before?" Tru asked. "About--needing a guide?"

"Is your brother selling maps to stars' homes?" Buffy asked lightly. "Because I gotta say, I'm not too keen on getting lost in a foreign country. I have this fear of customs officials."

Tru smiled. "Nah. Harrison's okay, mostly. You have a kid brother?"

"Little sister," Buffy answered. "I guess it's probably more about clothes and boys, and less about tag football. Or poker." (Why is talking to her so easy? You met her five minutes ago. You don't know her. She's not Faith.)

Tru nodded. "Yeah, I've got a sister, too. Older." She shuffled a bit, scuffing her feet on the sidewalk. "Anyway, what I meant was, I have some time today. Before work."

"At the morgue." Buffy couldn't help but smile. That was one thing they had in common--they both worked with dead people.

"Right. I want to get into med school, you see--" Tru gave a half-shrug, like she'd given that explanation way too many times before. She glanced down, her grin becoming a bit self-conscious. Dimples flashed.

"Makes sense," Buffy said, hardly aware of what words she was using. This was too spooky--a Faith who was open and carefree and talkative. And still gorgeous. Not that that had anything to do with the price of eggs, but-- "A guide. Yeah. If you wanted, I mean, as long as you have the time, and...I'm on my own, I don't know what's worth seeing, but, I thought, hey, first time out of the country, not that it's incredibly adventurous coming to Canada. Not that there's anything wrong with Canada, it's very--north. I mean, nice."

Tru was smiling sideways at her. "Do you always do that?"

"Babble?" Buffy nodded. "It's a medical condition, I'm sure. I've heard there are ways to stop it--" She cut herself off before she could explain to this stranger exactly what Oz's technique had been for stopping Willow from babbling. "But. Um. If you don't mind me asking--why?"

Tru raised her eyebrows. "I don't know...to apologize for my brother's advances?"

"Trust me, I've seen worse come ons." Buffy grimmaced at the reminder of Spike. Guys who just couldn't take no for an answer. "And again, I have to ask--why?"

"Don't believe me?" Tru looked at her, all high cheekbones, dusky skin, lips made for kissing--shut up, brain, not helping here--they were Faith's features. But not Faith's eyes. There was no spark of mischief there, no lusty teasing.

"I--" Buffy smiled ruefully. "I guess not. I mean, you must think I'm crazy. Maybe not axe-murderer crazy, but at least up there with old ladies who have a lot of cats named Myrtle."

Tru laughed. "Why would you name all your cats Myrtle?"

"I meant the old lady's name was Myrtle...or maybe Ruth. But there's a continuum of crazy, that's the point." Buffy spread her hands apart, as though she was telling a "how big was the fish?" story. "See, this is sane, and then this is me. So, no, I don't know why you'd volunteer."

"I guess..." Tru tilted her head. "I'm curious."

"About me?"

"About...whoever you thought I was. About why you wanted to arm wrestle me." Tru paused, as though considering. "And about you."

Buffy nodded. "I'm glad I was in there somewhere."

"So...what's she like?"

Buffy turned and started walking down the sidewalk. "So...where are we going, Guide o'Mine?"

Tru caught up with her easily. "You ever heard of Stanley Park?"

"Nope. But if you say it's worth visiting, I trust you." Buffy stopped and turned. Tru nearly ran into her, then quickly took a step back. There was no stupid innuendo-laden comment at their brief contact, not even a second glance. But then, what did she expect? She's not Faith. She's not like that. Buffy sighed. "This is weird, isn't it?"

"Believe me, weirder things have happened to me," Tru said, nearly rolling her eyes.

Just like Faith.

Before she knew what she was doing, Buffy lifted a hand and cupped Tru's cheek, waiting to feel the slayer-tingle that didn't come. Tru's skin was soft--this was a girl who used creams and lotions and exfoliators. Her dark eyes were wide, just a little surprised, her mouth half-open as if to say something.

She didn't say it, whatever it was. Didn't back off. Didn't move. Buffy touched her thumb to the tiny, perfect cleft in her bottom lip. Not Faith. Really not. Faith had left her on the front steps of the Hyperion, had swung that bus door closed and said, "Hey, catch ya later, B, don't go getting skewered again anytime soon, for me, hunh?" She'd winked, grinned that shit-eating grin, and disappeared down the street with half a dozen newly-minted slayers and a side of tall, dark, and handsome as her saving-the-world reward.

And that was it.

Buffy had Giles, Buffy had Dawn, Buffy had a suddenly-CEO Angel. She had Willow and Xander and yes, even Kennedy.

None of them were enough.

Vacation was supposed to make that better. Forget everything Hellmouthy, that was the plan. Faith had a whole lot of Hellmouth associated with her, so it was best to start the forgetting there. Staring at her own hand, looking pale and small against Tru's cheek, Buffy kinda figured that the plan wasn't going according to itself. She traced the side of Tru's face, then realized, finally, what she was doing, and pulled her hand away.

"Sorry," she muttered, looking at her feet. Blushing like a high school kid. God, what was her problem? Assaulting a stranger in a diner and then--this?

"I've had weirder things happen to me," Tru repeated. "So...tell me more about her."

*


Totally continuable, yeah?