Joss Whedon owns "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" and related characters; James Cameron owns "Dark Angel" and related characters; I own nothing.~*~*~
From her secluded corner, Faith quietly sipped her beer and watched the flow of people around her. For a hole-in-the-wall in the middle of one of the worst Pulse-hit areas, Crash was surprisingly full. It was also bringing back memories of her younger, slightly wilder days when she had first become a Slayer. The clanking glasses, the beat-up furniture, the dim lighting, the smells of alcohol and sweat... It was dragging her back into the past, a place she didn’t need to revist more than necessary. She was still more of an enjoy the moment type of girl.
Her eyes scanned the crowd, trying to pick out her target in the tangle of people. There. Faith felt her breath involuntarily catch as her gaze came to rest on X5-452, otherwise known as Max Guevarra. And, known to only a select few, her daughter. Or mostly-daughter. Red had mentioned something about feline and shark and other shit thrown into the mix, but, for the most part, Max’s genes came from Faith. Wasn’t that a freaky thought?
“That her?” Buffy asked quietly, slipping down into the seat next to Faith.
“It sure is, B,” Faith answered, taking another long sip. Buffy studied her for a moment before snorting.
“She definitely gets her fashion sense from you,” she observed. “Oh, dear old Maggie Walsh. I’ll never be rid of you.” It was Faith’s turn to snort in amusement. According to Red, who had dug up the information, the crazed psycho bitch doctor had taken both her and B’s blood and sent it to some shady government project where they mucked around to create some new kind of super soldiers. It had only been Dawn’s confirmation that the place had already been burned to the ground that kept Buffy from gathering what Slayers she could and tearing the place apart herself. It was a surprise when Faith was the calmer of the two Chosen Ones, but that had been the case that day.
“Well, according to lil’ D, your little girl is just as gifted in love as you are, B,” Faith shot back, ignoring Buffy’s glare. They were still trying to track down Syl, or X5-701, but when they had heard about a freaky snake-worshiping cult, it had been decided that a trip to Seattle was in order. Red and Dawn were off tracking down some computer guy, leaving her and B to go find Max.
“It looks like we’ve been spotted,” Buffy muttered under her breath. Max and her companions--a dark-skinned woman and a man about her age--were looking at the two of them and talking amongst themselves. “What do you want to do? Your call.”
“Well, it’s probably a little to late to bounce,” Faith muttered back, meeting Max’s gaze. They stared at each other for a few minutes before Max looked away. “It looks like we might be doing the meet and greet a little sooner than expected.”
“Oh, goody,” Buffy replied as Max and the man started walking towards them.
“Who the hell are you, and what’s your problem?” Max demanded as soon as they were within earshot of the table. Faith studied her for a moment before smirking slightly.
“Well, isn’t that a nice way to greet your mom.” The shocked look on both of their faces was well worth all the awkward conversations that were sure to follow.