*Characters belong to Joss Whedon, David Greenwalt, etc.

**Background info: Takes place after Buffy's death. Last summer Faith became pregnant by Angelus (magic), and she had an abortion. Darla is pregnant with Angel's baby (think "Reprise"). Darla is involved with Lindsey, and Faith is involved with Oz. Faith no longer loves Angel (I think I came to my senses). Faith is out of jail because she doesn't belong there in the first place. I give Lindsey hazel eyes because "I say I slay."

~

Grievances

by Tara Ann Stridh

You know where I belong?

L.A.

You know why? Nobody belongs there.

- The Host

The booze was hot in her blood, but slayer blood was pure enough to overwhelm and keep the white and red cells untouched by toxins. It took a long while before a Slayer could get drunk, and Faith was losing patience. She walked out of the bar, holding bright red cherries in her hand and chewing them, almost forgetting to taste them. After sucking down liquor and lemons for fifteen minutes Faith was bored; she could still feel the guys tongue going down on her breasts, and grimaced.

Then popping another cherry into her glossed mouth she knocked straight into a tall, broad figure. The cherries fell out of her sticky palm and she looked up into his face.

Angel. And she did the next thing a Slayer was supposed to do in a situation like hers. Faith grabbed the stake from her black leather pants and lunged for his heart.

"Faith!" he said, stepping to the side and grabbing her arm.

Quickly he twirled her body, bracing her against him, his arm tangled over her breasts, and he saw the glowing flesh beneath her brunette curls blink out to him. Angel changed face and Faith felt his teeth press into her neck, except then she didn't. Still clutching the stake, Faith watched as Angel tossed himself away from her and fell on to the damp ground.

"No," he said, shaking his head. "No. No. No. You can't see me. You can't see me."

Stake raised she slowly approached him until she was standing over him. His dark eyes looked up at her, her glossed lips pouting at him, and he brought his hand to his vampire face, feeling the ridges in his forehead.

"Faith, are you hurt?"

His voice was slow, and she knelt beside him. She flinched as he took her hand and placed her fingertips on the ridges. Then they were gone, and his smooth angelic face had returned, his forehead cold beneath her fingers. Slowly she lowered the stake.

He looked into her face. "Faith, where have you been? Oz has been looking for you everywhere. He's worried."

She pulled away from. "And where have you been? I thought you were supposed to be my Watcher."

Angel thought he almost saw her snicker at him. He could smell something sickening on her - men, different men pawing all over her body.

"Faith, what have you been doing?"

"Slaying and screwing. What else is a girl to do?"

The vampire balanced himself by placing both palms on the soiled ground.

"In Pylea I could walk in the sunlight, see my face in the mirror, but the demon inside me, my true demon is much worse than anything I become here," he said, his dark eyes studying her face in the lamplight and shadows.

"You killed . . . people?" It was as if she didn't want to imagine it.

"I change into the vampire here, and I can deal, but there, it's horrible, Faith. You don't know. You didn't see. But I saw and they saw. I'm glad you didn't see."

Faith sat on the ground, keeping the stake beside her foot. She wiped her palms on her pants. "Yeah, well, you're home now."

"And things are - I'm hiding."

"Me too," said Faith. After she showered and left Lindsey's place she went clubbing for a while. Then she ended up back at the ex-lawyer's place.

Holding Mr. Gordo in her arms. Can I crash here?

Stunned. Uh, sure.

It was out of decency that Lindsey let her sleep on his couch. It was like a rule - one night stand etiquette. They had fucked, therefore he owed her a place to spend the night.

I'll be gone in the morning. Pinky swear.

You don't have to. I'll make eggs or something.

I bet you make eggs for all the girls.

Well, I never got to make eggs for you.

I didn't let you.

In the morning Darla wasn't too happy. Staring at the girl, bitterness in her violet vampire eyes.

You're the one who invited her over to fuck me, Faith heard Lindsey say to Darla. Lawyer boy and the vampire were in a fighting rut; Faith could tell it from the way Darla glared at him. But Darla's contempt wasn't as sincere as the impatience and impetuousness behind Lindsey's voice and eyes.

It wasn't Faith's business, and really, she didn't care. I don't care.

Later when Darla was sleeping Faith sat in the living room watching reruns of Muppet Babies. Lindsey sat beside her; he liked Muppet Babies, too.

Then there was the awkwardness.

How 'bout you fuck me for real this time? she said, glancing at him.

I'm gonna make dinner, he said.

Need any help, said Faith.

Uh, sure. You can wash the lettuce. I'll cut the cheese.

You with a knife? What about your evil hand?

Law firm urban legend. He smiled.

The dark-haired slayer did the washing. Then she sat on the counter, watching him stir the sauce for the lasagna.

I make wicked lasagna, he said.

What do you like better? Faith said, eating the black olives that were supposed to be in the salad. Your new hand or your plastic hand?

He thought for a moment. I don't know.

I have some scars, she said chewing and spitting the pits into the sink. The spitting bothered him; every time she did it he would glance at the sink. So lawyer boy is anal-retentive, she thought and smiled. Guess having all that cash will do that to a person. Then she lifted up her shirt, showing the scar in her side.

Buffy did that. She immediately regretted saying that name.

Next she showed him the scar on her left breast. Angel did that.

I know, Lindsey said. He pulled his shirt away from his neck. Darla. She has a small mouth. How about we drink to our scars?

He poured red wine for himself, and Faith took the bottle of whiskey.

To our scars. Gulp. Bite ya anyplace else? Faith raised those eyebrows of hers, and she chewed on the olives. Buffy died. I know you don't care, and you don't have a reason to care, but I do. I care, and she always knew. Lindsey was silent, getting ready to put the lasagna pan in the oven.

I bet you wish it was yours?

Faith didn't have to say the next words, but she did it, anyway. The baby?

I don't know, he said.

Your second one tonight. Faith paused. I had an abortion.

Quickly, Lindsey's mind flashed the thought, I hope it wasn't mine.

It was Angel's.

That got her a stare from him.

Magic, she said.

She opened a cabinet behind her and picked up a glass jar of cherries. Can we put these on the lasagna?

The first thing he thought was 'Gross,' but then he let her put the cherries on top of the lasagna like a casserole. They waited for it to cook, and they ate dinner without Darla.

Faith decided not to tell Angel she had spent a night at the lawyer's apartment. Both kept secrets from each other that night - Faith and Lindsey, Faith and Giles, Faith skipping the pizza shop, Faith and all the nameless faces she let feel her during the past nights, Angel and his recent isolation with no one except the babbling, sweet crazy girl Fred and her burritos, but one name threatened to leave their lips. Buffy.

Angel had just returned from Sunnydale, where he cried himself to sleep on the dead slayer's grave.

"Is a new slayer going to be called?" Faith said.

"Maybe."

"No one's called me, yet. What am I supposed to do?"

"You have to stop hurting yourself, Faith. I loved Buffy, and she's gone. You're not, and you can't do this to yourself."

"Tight, and you're just gonna keep on brooding, locking yourself in your room?"

"You have to stop. I have to stop," said Angel. "I can't shut my friends out again. Not again."

Faith looked down at the pink/purple/yellow/blue friendship bracelet Willow had given her; she thought she would have torn it off her wrist by now, but it was still there.

The dark-haired slayer looked at Angel and said, "I have to tell Oz."

"I don't know how I'm supposed to forget, Faith. How I'm supposed to move on."

"You don't forget, Angel."

"You knocked into me," he said. "You didn't feel me. I didn't feel you. It was nothing but a collision of warm and cold."

"Angel, stop. Can we start training again? Please? I'm afraid I'm going to do it all over again. The killing, the hurting - so much of it has already started again."

Angel leaned forward and kissed her lips, picturing their lushness in his mind, the faint dent in her lower lip. She didn't open her mouth to let his tongue in.

Instead she backed away from him, her velvet brown eyes glistening. "What was that for?"

"Tomorrow, yeah. That's good. We'll train," he said, standing up. "You can meet Fred."

Faith's brunette waves fell over one shoulder, and she watched him leave the way he had come.

Who's Fred? she thought.

~