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18 September 2005 @ 09:54 pm
Faith Lehane: Nowhere, and everywhere  
Faith let the newest motel room door swing open on squeaky hinges, sighing as she stared into yet another bland room with a cheap, shiny comforter on the bed and scarred wooden table in the corner. The blinds were drawn and the room smelled like stale cigarette smoke, and she pitched her well-worn duffel bag onto the dresser that held an ancient TV.

"Guess I can't complain too much," she muttered to herself, easing the door shut behind her and sprawling out across the bed. "These pit-stops are definitely a notch or two up from my old digs."

She crossed her arms in front of her and rested her cheek on her wrists, closing her eyes for a moment. She hadn't slept much in the last few days. She had this feeling that the Fibbies were closing in on her. She hadn't seen anything, or heard anything. It was just this tight, itchy feeling in the back of her neck that told her she was in the crosshairs.

Not this time, dammit, she swore to herself. She wasn't going behind bars again. She had a lot more to offer the world now that she was back to playing nice with the other boys and girls. Okay, not exactly "back to", she amended thoughtfully. You can't go back to what you never were.

Faith sighed and rolled over, using her thumb and index finger to split two of the slatted blinds apart a fraction of an inch, just enough for her to peer warily outside. Her eyes narrowed, flicking over everything in the parking lot, every shape, every shadow. She gradually relaxed, her shoulders easing back, as she realized there was nothing out there waiting to grab her. Waiting to try.

She sat up, scooting the two cheap, thin pillows against the headboard and settling back in against them. She grabbed the remote and flicked the TV to life, but her thoughts strayed from the moronic laugh-track sitcom to her complicated life.

Not so complicated now, she realized. When did solitary stop being the law of the land and start sucking hardcore?

She couldn't blame anyone but herself. It had been her choice to leave Cleveland-and she had friends there, after all. Or friends of a sort. Dawnie was still givin' me the evil eye, but Red was cool enough. And there was Wood. Although she supposed that it was only a matter of time before they'd gone their separate ways. Guess that's what they mean when they say 'don't shit where you eat', but whatever. She had tried to use them as excuses-she didn't want to get tied down, she couldn't be responsible for other people's lives, etcetera, ad infinitum. (She'd learned that last one in prison, and she just liked the way it sounded. Never mind the fact that she could barely pronounce it.)

Faith refused to admit it to anyone but herself, but she was tired of trying to be Buffy. She was tired of being the only Senior Slayer around, the one they all looked to for direction. Hell, didn't anyone ever tell them the only direction I know is south? It wasn't her deal. The whole leadership thing, it just wasn't her. She liked the lone wolf lifestyle.

Or at least, she had. Once upon a time. Seemed lately that walking alone didn't do it for her the way it used to.

Not like I have much choice anymore, she reminded herself, as philosophically as she could get. I gotta keep movin', or I'll be locked up again faster than I can whip out a stake. Doesn't give a girl much time to settle down and buddy up with the locals.

She glanced down at her watch and grimaced. It was midnight, and she had to be up in just a few hours. No staying in one place too long, that was the new golden rule. Gotta love life on the run.
 
 
Current Mood: tiredtired