Faith flicked some ash from the end of her cigarette, watching the embers flare in the darkness briefly.
"They don't get it," she said after a while. "They weren't there when we did the spell. In order to save the world, we forced a destiny on over a thousand girls that made them suddenly targets. And they don't have the dreams. I get 'em, I know you must have too. All the Slayers before us, how they all died. Half the dreams don't even make sense, they're just images or sensations. How hard they fought, how scared they were. Have the time I think some of the people out there think we're just chicks on steroids and they don't realize that there is more to us than being stronger fitter faster."
She inhaled deeply on the cigarette before turning back to Buffy.
"And this aint any elitism crap either. I don't understand what it means to be a Jedi or a Witch or someone from Peter's world."
She stood up for a moment, looking out over the lights of the city.
"This is our city. You and me and Ken. These people are our responsibility. Then we're told to sit back while some person comes in and kills them. And we're told other people can do our job as well as we can. Hell, just about the only one who hasn't ever treated me like that is Peter. And some others at the Hyperion. It's the only reason I stay there. Well that and they don't make me work with morons."
Glory. Now that had been a bunch of fun. "We've had a few old friends. Glory, Caleb." She looked away awkwardly. "My old boss."
That was another reason she stayed with Peter. He'd never judged her for what she had done. Hadn't assumed she would go running back to the Mayor as soon as he came to town. Hell, had even trusted her with a position of authority.