Hellmouths are for Lovers

Chapter Twenty-Two

It had been a slow night for patrol. In the few days since Lucifer and Michael had been thrown back into the cage, the Underworld had collapsed into chaos. Those left who had aligned into factions were now slinking off into shadows to ride out the storm, bidding their time until a contender came out on top. But, Buffy knew it would be Crowley that would reign again, and they had their own epic showdown awaiting soon enough.

Cabin fever had been getting the better of her, and it had been months since Castiel had allowed her to leave the safety of The Bunker. She was starting to feel like Rapunzel in the tower, except for the fact that her Prince Charming was not coming back for her. That ship had sailed nearly a year ago, and she had resigned herself to the fact she would be one soul mate short of a dynamic duo. But, that was not anything new for her. All slayers lived lonely lives. Only their shoulders were sturdy enough to carry the burden of those who took risks because they had nothing left to lose, of those who willingly sacrificed themselves so the sun could rise on a better tomorrow.

With the Apocalypse out of the way, she could at least get down to sealing Hell shut permanently. Being on total lockdown had not been a absolutel bummer- it had given her ample time to learn new skills and familiarize herself with the resources of the Men of Letters. She and the Scoobies had become quite studied in Crowley, the Trials, and all manner of the unfriendly things that were to follow.

"It feels like the end of an era," Faith said as she and Buffy walked back down the long stretch of country road, a crossbow slung over her back.

"Faith Lehane," Buffy snorted, "Is that sentimentality I hear coming from your mouth?"

"I mean it, B," she stopped in the middle of the road, turning to face Buffy, "Lucifer's probation has been revoked. It's real now. You're not one of us anymore."

"Faith, I'm still a human being," Buffy rolled her eyes.

"No, Buffy. I meant, you're not a slayer anymore. You're not even The Slayer anymore..." Faith sighed, "You're not even on the same level as the slayers anymore."

"Can we please avoid the hysterics?" Buffy pushed past Faith continuing on her way back to The Bunker, "In the entire time that we've been waiting out the Apocalypse, Willow and Andrew have only figured out part of the first trial. Even the Frodo Baggins took, like, a year and half to destroy the Ring."

"You really have been bored, haven't you?" Faith laughed catching up to her.

"I've read every book in the library," she sighed, "Some of them twice..." and, then Buffy paused, looking to Faith with a weary face, shifting the conversation back to the topic she had pretended she wanted to avoid, "I don't want people putting me up on a pedestal, okay. I'm still Buffy Summers, and I'm still a slayer. And, yeah, maybe I've got a little shinier destiny than most people, but until that plays out, I've still got a day job that needs doing. I got kind of a big head about this Chosen One thing, and I let down some people who were counting on me. So, no more Destiny Girl stuff, deal?"

"Alright, B," Faith conceded, "But, for the record, I always knew there was something about you. You were always the best of us. You always had the right slayer stuff, ya'know? So, I'm not really surprised it's you, out of all of us, the Fates chose to bring it all to an end."

"It was never a competition, Faith," Buffy reassured.

"You're right," Faith replied, "It wasn't even close."

As the pair of them rounded the last curve before The Bunker, she saw it sitting there, and her words of protest evaporated in her throat. Eyes catching the sheen reflecting off the silky, black paint in the early morning light, the Impala was parked in front of the main entrance, and sitting on the trunk was the last person she expected to see.