There’s a Hellmouth in Cleveland, says Joss. OK. Why not? As good a place as any other, I guess. Plus, I happen to live in Cleveland, so rather convenient for me as I actually know what the scenery looks like a bit better than I know California. So, there. Just a little ficlet, a one time shot, to get it out of my system and keep on working on my WIPs. Pairings info declined but nothing (really) off canon – read to find out .

Fondly dedicated to my beta-reader Alan, who has a thing for the brunette Slayer… I just hope you’re OK, mon ami.

A gust of autumn wind coming from the lake enveloped Faith, and the ashes were taken along Superior Avenue. The brunette Slayer – a Slayer, she had only been the Slayer, the one and only, for a little over three months, and being behind bars at the time had not even known of it until much later – felt a cold shudder run through her. Blasted city. Only a few weeks before, the heat and humidity were such that even at the coolest hour of the night it had felt like breathing lukewarm water. And now, without warning, that almost ice cold wind that was freezing her to her bones, just after a run that had taken her from the Flats, one of the vampires’ favorite hunting ground in the town, right by the river where they liked to dump bodies, to the plaza in front of Tower City. Heat and sweat on her flesh, cold air around her. Bad mix. The thought was almost enough to make her laugh, but she was seriously beginning to miss Sunnydale.

Holding her jacket closed tight around her, she started walking back toward the river. Robin was still down there, and while she had no doubt that he could take care of himself, he had something she very much wanted right now. Car keys. The other advantage of Sunnydale was that you didn’t need a car to go just about anywhere. It was indeed a pretty good thing that there were a lot of Slayers, now. Because, seeing how large the city was, and how many cemeteries it counted, patrolling by herself would have been quite simply impossible. There was also the fact that the town had not had a resident Slayer since the 1920’s, and the demon population was therefore on the side of beaucoup, with second servings too.

So, they had divided the job between the Slayers, teaming them up for added effectiveness. Each pair had a sector, and Faith had claimed experience on the others to get the Flats and the downtown area. After all, she was one of the few Slayers who was old enough to be a legal customer of the establishments she was hunting around, and a nice drink with Robin, every now and then after a slow patrol, was certainly one of the better perks of the job. Plus, she had seen enough graveyards already to last her a lifetime, so the kiddies could have a go at it for a change.

And there was also the fact that the Hellmouth was right there, a few hundreds yards away, in the northeast corner of the Browns Stadium. Three months after they had arrived, Giles was still joking that it was the proof that football – American football, as he called it, since for him football equaled to soccer for some strange reason – was the ultimate evil. It had almost been funny the first couple of times, but by now all the American girls present, even those who didn’t like football, were ready to take him as target for crossbow practice whenever he started saying anything about the Hellmouth.

She quickly found Robin, who was actually getting like her toward the car, and the slight upturn of his mouth was enough to tell her that his night had been productive too.

“Five,” he announced, his cool tone almost succeeding in hiding his satisfaction.

So, he thought he had beaten her, huh?

“Seven,” she replied with a smug smile.

He threw the keys at her, scowling a little. “Why do I have this feeling that if we had any way to prove these numbers I’d be winning far more often?”

She only shook her head as she slipped behind the wheel. Let him find a way to get his proofs, she knew she had nothing to fear. Which was not Robin’s case, as his tense features revealed.

“Come on, I’m not that bad of a driver!” she protested, speeding just a little to pass the light on East 9th before it blinked from orange to red.

“You’re not bad,” he said grimly. “You’re awfully bad. I still can’t believe they gave you your license.”

“Hey, you taught me, so blame yourself, teacher!”

The comment was delivered in the middle of a sharp turn, which would have been perfect had it not been taken at the speed of 37 MPH.

“It’s Mr. Principal to you, young lady,” he shot back, the laugh clear in his voice.

She smiled at that, and veered onto Chester. He had had no problem finding a job in the Cleveland school district as a principal, but admitted quite easily that dusting vamps every night was a necessary way to blow off steam after long workdays. Apparently, a high school didn’t need to be situated directly over a Hellmouth to be a real hell.

“CSU?” he asked perfunctorily as she slowed down the car, parking it on the side of the street just a block after they had passed Rhodes Tower, the heart of the campus.

“Yeah, we didn’t stop by last night, so I figured we could do a quick sweep now.”

They both put on orange jackets before coming out of the car, the words ‘campus security’ in large letters over the back. Should anyone wonder why they were walking over the university grounds by night, the jackets were their excuse. Kennedy’s idea – she was a student here by day, and had procured the distinctive jackets seemingly effortlessly. The sweep turned out relatively disappointing – only one vamp, but it was still one less to roam free in the town.

As they were returning toward the car, she pulled him to the side, pushing his back to a wall and getting right into his personal space.

“Faith,” he warned half-heartedly, “you realize that there is real campus security going around, right?”

“Just a little kiss,” she pleaded silkily with a soft nibble to his ear. “I’ll give you the keys back…”

Whether the offer was too tempting to resist, or he was as worked up by their hunt as she was, she didn’t know. But she had nothing to complain about when he reversed their positions, pressing her to the wall and devouring her mouth with his. A little kiss turned into a rather longish one, and she was the one who finally broke away, panting.

“How about we get home to finish that?” he suggested as his lips trailed over her throat.

“Right. Home.”

She was actually quite glad he was the one driving now, because she wasn’t sure she could have gone the few miles of straight road to the mansion they called home. It was a rather nice improvement over the Summers casa. For one thing, there were five bathrooms, which averaged to about five people per bathroom. Much better odds at getting a spot when needed. Which didn’t mean, however, that Faith minded sharing a shower with someone, occasionally, especially if this someone happened to be one of the four men who resided at the mansion – and more precisely, her team partner. The fact that he was her partner in other things had also earned them the privilege of being alone in their bedroom. Granted, it was one of the smallest ones, but bunk beds had stopped being fun for Faith around the time she turned ten. Willow and Kennedy were the only other ones who had a room to themselves, but Faith suspected that sooner or later, Xander and Dawn would too. Once he got past the grieving stage to actually notice she was waiting for him, that was.

In any case, even with the repairs the carpenter of the house was working on every day – the house was big, but rather old – Faith couldn’t wait to be out of it. She had had more than enough time with too many women around already, even if these were friendlier than her previous housemates. In a few months, maybe even before Christmas, she and Robin would move out to a smaller house, just down the street. She wasn’t sure what they were exactly yet, but she knew one thing – a Slayer’s life usually ended too fast to waste time. Hence, the moving out. Far enough for privacy, but close enough to Slayer Central, as Giles had dubbed the mansion, which had been paid by a generous donation from a law firm in LA now headed by a soulful vampire. The donation had also paid for a small magic shop a few miles away, in the trendy neighborhood of Coventry, which Willow and Giles run together, with some overly enthusiastic help from Andrew. Profits from the store were used for day-to-day expenses, while Giles was still trying to put his hands on the now defunct Council’s money.

Following habit, Faith’s first instinct as she entered the house in front of Robin was to go to the kitchen. There was a chart there, on the wall, where the teams recorded their numbers as they returned from patrol. Half for competition’s sake, half to know whether the numbers of vamps slain were rising, dwindling, or remaining steady. As she penned in their number – noting smugly that they had three more kills that the next highest score, and betting to herself that it would still be the same once everyone was back – Faith listened distractedly to Dawn, Xander and Giles, who were seemingly drawing battle plans on the kitchen table to lure in more new Slayers to Cleveland, at least long enough to train them. Waving at Robin as he indicated by gestures he was going ahead to start the shower, she went to the stove for her second post patrol ritual, and helped herself with the hot chocolate that had been left to simmer gently. Passing by the fridge, she noticed the postcard on it, which depicted the white sand beach and incredibly blue ocean of some Caribbean island. Curious, she pulled it from under the magnet, turning it over to read the message. It was addressed to ‘Scooby Gang and Co.’, and read:

“Still can’t believe there isn’t a single demon on this island.
We’re going to stay a bit longer just to investigate and be completely sure.
Take care of you all.
Love,
Buffy”

“Why do they get the sun and warmth?” she mock-complained as she put the postcard back in place. “It’s starting to be chilly over here. Can I volunteer to explore paradise islands with my boyfriend too?”

“I’m afraid the position is already filled,” Giles replied with a half smile.

“And if you think it’s cold now,” Xander chimed in, “wait ‘til it starts snowing. And pray I’ve fixed the heating system before that.”

Groaning, Faith left her mug in the sink, ignoring the reprobating glances at her lack of rinsing, and walked away toward the hot shower – in more ways that one – that was calling her name, cursing under her breath the ex-vampire who had played at being a martyr to close a Hellmouth in sunny California and was now getting a tan on a beach while she was stuck with weather from hell and burning rivers. Not fair. Not fair at all. If she had known it would buy her an all expenses paid trip around the nicest places of the world, she would have volunteered to die and be brought back too, like these two slackers.

Yes, really not fair. She would complain loudly and in details as soon as Buffy and her honey came here. Or rather, if they ever came to Cleveland. Because, frankly, if she had been in their place, she wouldn’t have even thought for a second of coming back to a Hellmouth. Not when they clearly had found Heaven.
 

the end