A Knock on the Door
Her injuries from the fight with Grace almost nothing more than a distant memory, and a few other things taken care of, Faith could now focus her attention on informing those close to her that she was no longer incarcerated. The Slayer figured that would've been pretty big news, considering how the local media seemed to foam at the mouth when she was arrested. Then again, being released because she was innocent probably wasn't as juicy as being locked up for a series of grisly murders.

In the nights following her release, Faith had been tempted to hit the streets in search for the real killer, but thought better of it each time. Not only did that have a creepy O.J. vibe to it, the Slayer wasn't keen on putting herself in the way of the police again. She'd told Meg upon her release she wouldn't pry into the matter, and Faith was one to keep her word on that. Besides, she had more important things to do.

With a deep breath, Faith allowed herself a small, sideways grin. She was standing in front of the door to Hayden's apartment, thinking she probably should've done this sooner as her knuckles rapped against the surface. But between her run-in with Grace and a number of other things, the Slayer hadn't really had the chance. She wondered which emotion would prevail for the former Watcher -- relief that she was free, or annoyance that she didn't come see him sooner. Probably a bit of both.

The previous twenty-four hours were unpleasant for Hayden. After Kris didn't check in, he went out and looked for her. The apartment was quiet and dark, her gym the same, and there was no sign of her at her mother's house. So he drove his truck in circles around her neighborhood, slowing down whenever he passed a dark-haired woman, or a person about her size in a hoodie. When he was close to getting reported for suspicious behavior, he came home and crashed on the couch. He slept with the cell phone on his chest, so that if she called, he couldn't possibly miss it. As morning came and still no message, he called out sick from work and checked hospitals. That didn't turn up any leads. He didn't know if that was a relief or not.

So by the time Faith knocked, he looked worse for wear. At first Hayden thought it might be Kris at the door, and that explained the heavy, fast footfalls to the door, and how he yanked it open without looking first. Then he was confused and surprised. "Faith ... ah man." Shifting gears fast, he stepped onto the threshold and wrapped his friend in a loose hug, planting a kiss on top of her head. Just because it wasn't the Slayer he thought it would be, didn't mean she wasn't a sight for sore eyes. "When did you get out?"

Letting her left arm wrap loosely around Hayden's back and giving it two pats, Faith's brow furrowed. She'd heard the heavy footsteps, and she could see the weariness in his features. She frowned a little more when the quasi-hug broke, really getting a good view of her friend. Alarms began going off in the Slayer's head, and her concern quickly shifted from telling him about her stay to finding out what was up.

"Few days, maybe a week," she said. "Sorry I didn't show sooner -- ran into Grace, spent the last few days licking my wounds."

Stepping into the apartment, Faith let her frown lessen, trying to put up a bit of a strong front. Not out of protection for herself, but she didn't want Hayden thinking she'd worry sick over him. It was a pride thing, really. "You alright?" she wondered, cocking her head a little to the left. "You look ... worried."

He scrubbed a hand across the lower half of his face and shut the door. Once inside, he looked around the living room, trying to make sure things didn't look too rough. Though Izzy was neat as a pin, Sonya wasn't and neither was he. "Yeah, Kris didn't check in last night. She was going to talk to some guy that's been stirring up trouble in her neighborhood. I don't know. It might be nothing." He picked up a blanket and folded in half, then in quarters. "Trying not to hit the panic button yet." Hayden tossed the blanket over the back of a recliner.

"Sit down, I'll get you a beer," he said. "I want to know what went down." He headed for the kitchen and opened the fridge.

Letting herself sink into the couch, Faith mulled over the situation with Kris -- or rather, what she knew of it within the last 45 seconds or so. Something tugged on the Slayer's gut in that regard, but she couldn't place it. Something felt wrong about the whole thing, she knew that much.

"I can keep an eye out," she offered. "When I'm on patrol or something. Let you know if I run into her."

Taking off her denim jacket -- because really, Chicago was starting to get a little too warm for such wardrobe -- Faith sat back in the couch. Her bruises were just about gone by this point, her bones mostly healed. The doctor who visited Faith in prison had no idea what she was talking about; the Slayer's healing powers worked just as well now as they had when she was first called.

Good thing, too. Grace fought dirty ... even for a vampire.

"Ran into her," Faith added with a shrug. "Buncha insults, some broken bones -- ya know, typical for us."

Hayden sifted through packets of meat wrapped in butcher paper. A few bottles of beer rested underneath, their caps pointing out. He pulled two and shut the refrigerator. "Typical, huh?" Considering the history there, and how badly injured Faith got when they fought before, he found that hard to believe. But if she wanted to downplay it, he was cool.

Back in the living room, he sat on the arm of a chair and passed Faith a beer. "Alright. I'll let you get away with that. Tell me about the jail thing. An article came out a couple weeks ago about new evidence, but after that, things got quiet."

Taking the beer, Faith offered a small grin. She twisted the bottle open with little effort, taking her first sip before letting the bottom of the bottle rest against her right knee. "Yeah," she explained. "William came to see me, and talked about closed-circuit cameras ... I guess he found video that showed I didn't do it."

Faith didn't really care how William managed to do it, but she owed him her gratitude. She remembered promising she'd swing by his place one night once she was out, maybe even go patrolling with the two Slayers who lived with him. Though not one comfortable with groupies -- Faith had fans? Who weren't evil? Who knew? -- the Slayer figured it would be a nice experience.

And it would be just one more way for her to thank someone who believed in her and busted her out.

The Slayer shrugged again. "Officer told me someone else came in and said they saw someone else commit the first murder." Another shrug, smile and sip of beer. "Either way, Faith's a free girl now.

"Feels good."

Hayden popped the cap and dropped it on a table, where it spun on its back. "I didn't think your luck was that good." He smiled and drank some of the beer. Halfway through that, his eyebrows pulled together, and he couldn't wait to ask a follow-up. His mouth came off the bottle neck with a muted sucking sound. "How the hell did you end up prosecuted, anyway? I got that message that said you found a body and called it in." He scratched his cheek with the shoulder of his t-shirt

Nice message law enforcement sent; he guessed it was better to walk off whistling, like you never saw a crime in the first place. Better than getting hauled into custody.

Faith shrugged, taking another swig of beer before resting the bottle on her knee again. "That's just it," she said. "I found the body, called 9-1-1 and waited cause I knew they'd want my statement. Cops get there, grill me from the get-go, find a stake and dagger on me -- cause I was all on patrol and shit -- and next thing I know, I'm being led into the back of a squad car."

A far cry from turning herself in, that was for sure. She supposed it was more humiliating than anything, what with that male officer mocking her and the swarm of people that seemed to grow with each passing second. She guessed the newspapers had fun with her once they found out she had priors ... and come to think of it, maybe the officer knew all that going in, and that was what led to her arrest.

Maybe.

"I dunno, maybe they found out who I was, saw my record." Another swig. "Boom, instant suspect."

Hayden frowned. He wasn't an idiot, but he was an idealist, and he liked to think that people could rejoin society with a relatively clean slate once they got out of trouble. It didn't work that way. "Man. Guess you'll think twice, next time you get a chance to do the right thing." He gulped his beer. "Wish you'd been around, a couple weeks ago. Rhiannon and Purity had a get-together at their place. It got pretty crazy. You ever see any of these people tie one on?"

Her eyebrows shot skyward, and a small smirk escaped her lips. "Can't say I have," Faith admitted with a knowing grin. "I'd say I could probably give them a run, but that would be bragging."

The Slayer allowed herself a chuckle, taking another swig of her beer before staring at the label for a quiet moment. She ran over her conversation with Connor in her head, wondering if she should tell Hayden. He seemed worried about his own issues, so it didn't feel right to dump her recurring issues on him at the moment. Then again, apologizing to Connor hadn't been the disaster Faith expected, so maybe bringing it up wouldn't be too bad.

"Saw Connor," she said, wondering if she could even be heard. "Apologized to him."

"Oh yeah? How'd that go?" Hayden got up and switched onto the seat of the chair. It brought him in sight of his cell phone, which showed no missed calls. His gut clenched, that old familiar feeling he got all the time in Searchlight, waiting up when Kris went out and a dangerous creature was on the loose. Was this the night she didn't come home? He took a breath and calmed it for a minute. Faith had good timing, he thought. She gave him something else to think about.

Hayden leaned forward. "You don't look like you're bleeding." The bottle rested on his thigh, imprinting a damp ring on the faded denim.

Faith gave a relieved, if not slightly sheepish, smile. "It wasn't the disaster I was expecting," she said. "He didn't hit or yell, he just ... listened, I guess. We actually had what passes for a deep, emotional conversation for us."

Which was kind of funny in hindsight, though it was an experience the Slayer didn't feel like reliving. Somehow, the idea of eventually apologizing to Jessica -- the person whose face she actually pounded in -- didn't seem quite as scary. She knew why that was the case, but there was still a hint of irony in knowing she had a harder time apologizing to her friend than she did the person she actually beat up.

Another sip, and Faith saw her beer was about three-quarters empty. She still wanted to get a patrol session in tonight, so she'd likely turn down an offer for a second beer. She glanced Hayden's way, remembering what he said the last time they talked, about what she did changing the way he saw her. It made sense, even if it caused a painful little twinge inside her.

"We're not ... I dunno where we are," she added. "But it's better than I thought."

"You're not enemies," he pointed out. Hayden rubbed the bottle with his thumb. "It's a start. One of these nights, you'll end up fighting side by side, and things'll get a little easier." He stared at the neutral carpet. His shoes and Faith's, both of them banged up. The former Watcher had a piece of advice for her, which she already knew, but he was going to say it, anyway. "Faith, it's gonna be really important not to mess up again," he said, his voice coming from farther down in his throat. "Doing what we do, trust is all we've got. Especially guys like Connor. I don't know him well, but he's got this way of looking around the room ... like he's trying to figure out who's gonna screw him over first. People have to know which side you're gonna fall on. It's not cool to be unpredictable. You've gotta be rock solid."

The Slayer nodded, letting Hayden's words sink in before choosing to respond. Allowing herself such patience of thought had never been a trademark of Faith's, but she realized that if she wanted to keep the close personal connections she had, she would be wise to take the advice of her friends to heart and do her damndest to follow it -- even if such actions were contradictory to who she had been and the way she behaved for so long.

If she was going to be this new, more mature Faith, shouldn't she start by changing the way she thought?

"I get that," she offered. "Being locked up like I was gave me a lotta time to think. I don't recommend the food or the other inmates or the crappy decorating, but a couple weeks in prison can do wonders for your psyche."

The Slayer paused just long enough to finish off the rest of her beer.

"Connor suggested I do the demon fighting ring thing," she added. "Way to blow off steam, keep my impulses in check. Not sure how I feel about that, but I didn't say no."

Hayden's chin tilted down and to the side. "Nnnn ... I dunno about that." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You want to put yourself in front of ..." He stretched out his arm. "A whole crowd of assholes, betting on whether or not a woman's gonna get mauled by a demon? What happens when they recognize you from TV and a news crew shows up?"

True, he was a traditionalist; he thought Slayers ought to fight under the cover of night, maintain some anonymity. "Maybe you oughta do some image control. Stay under the radar." Hayden shrugged. "Just my two cents."

Faith hadn't thought about that. It was a valid point; if she'd been in the news of late and had her mug shot plastered all over the internet, going off and fighting in some Demon Fight Club probably wasn't the best of ideas. That was just asking for undue attention, and she could just imagine how the mainstream media would run with it if they found out. Hell, they'd probably lump her with all Slayers, and that would just be good for no one.

"My thinking was more ..." she paused, peeling the label halfway off the bottle, "... I fight demons for a living. Do I really wanna do that on my time off, too?"

The Slayer sat up a little, thinking a change in subject was probably in order. She'd take Hayden's advice into serious consideration, as well as Connor's. At this point, she was leaning toward taking the former Watcher's advice and find another way to release her more violent urges, but she still wasn't comfortable discounting one thing or another right now.

"So," she spoke up, "do you have any leads on Kris, or are you still at square one?"

"Yeah, you mentioned you wanted to branch out," he said before she changed the topic. Then it was onto the fifty-pound weight on his mind. "There's been some kind of problem in her neighborhood, a guy spreading rumors, making trouble. She lost a lot of clients in her gym. Connor said she had to lay him off because she couldn't pay him. There was a break-in, too." Hayden leaned over and set the bottle on the coffee table.

He pulled his hair back in a loose ponytail. "I got a voicemail from her last night, saying she was going to confront the guy. She sounded nervous, but you know Slayers." He smiled tiredly and let go, only to cover the lower half of his face. "She went in by herself anyway. Never checked in. Connor's checking her patrol route. I checked the neighborhood, the hospitals, her mom's house." He spread his empty hands, then rubbed them together.

"Damn."

Faith didn't know Kris that well, but she at least struck the other Slayer as an incredibly capable and resourceful demon fighter. Chances were she was alright, but Faith also knew the exact opposite was a distinct possibility. She didn't voice as such, realizing her friend probably already knew that. Faith didn't want to say or do anything to make Hayden feel worse.

"Not sure if it'll help," Faith said, rising to her feet, "but I can keep a look out, too, see if I find anything. Ya know, give you a holler if I find her?"

"I'd appreciate that." Hayden got up, too. "I'm gonna hop in my truck and make the rounds again. Knock on every door in her neighborhood until somebody tells me who 'George' is." If the former Watcher got the Chicago Sun-Times, he would've seen the article about the dead body of a man named George Robinson, but he didn't subscribe to the paper.

He'd find out that news on his walking route.

"I'll head out with you." He looked around for his keys and wallet, then picked up a denim jacket. As they headed for the door, he said, "It's nice having you back on this side of the bars," with a small smile.

"It's nice being back," Faith agreed, putting an arm around Hayden for another loose hug. It was as close as she'd ever been to truly being physically affectionate with someone -- sure, Faith had a lot of sex in her life, but the Slayer never once considered any of that physical affection. It was just ... physical.

She patted Hayden's back again before pulling away, the smile still on her face. It was good being free again, and the Slayer noticed how the mention of Kris didn't make her insides start doing emotional backflips anymore. She wasn't sure what that was about, but her biggest concern right now was doing her part to make sure the other Slayer was okay.

Faith didn't feel like seeing a loss in their ranks, especially since she knew what that would do to her friend.

"Lemme know if you need anything else."