Who: Faith Lehane & Stefan Salvatore Where: start at the prison and then off to the wilderness What: spying on the enemy camp at the housing projects Warnings: PG-13 for some violence and such
She was loaded up to the teeth with weapons. It was possible that she was going a bit overboard but she hadn't been beyond the prison walls for so long she wanted to be as prepared as she could be. And it was in those moments that she realized that she might have been getting a bit spoiled, counting on all these vampires (among others) to go out into town and fetch her things. And the irony of that certainly wasn't lost on her. Once upon a time Faith had been The Slayer. Now she didn't know what the hell she was.
Some kind of leader, or at least that was what she was trying to be. She hadn't set out to be, just had the bad luck of finding the prison first. And hadn't that been fun, clearing the whole damn building out of zombies all on her own. It had actually been kind of therapeutic after everything she and Buffy had been through out in the wilderness. You could say Faith had a few issues to work through and she had worked them all out on every last single walker in the damn place. She even dragged them all out to the yard and set them on fire just to watch them burn. The smell had clung to her for days but the satisfaction had been worth it.
And then others had started to come, one by one, trickling in little by little and this prison that had once been a giant chamber of solitude and a bad reminder of her past had become a little bit like a home filled with bustling bodies. And all of them were looking to her to tell them what to do, what the next move should be, what the right thing was. Clearly the joke was on them because she was the bad slayer.
She was eager to stretch her legs outside of the prison and once she'd tucked the last knife away into her boot she caught up with Stefan lounging in his cell, reading a book.
"Knock, knock," she said, lingering in the doorway. "You ready to bounce?"
She didn't like the idea of dragging him along with her anymore than he probably liked the idea of being dragged. But the zombies weren't interested in dead flesh and somebody had to watch her back.