See You Later (Not Good-Bye)
Though her conversation with Connor had been frustrating in some ways, at least Faith left with the knowledge that he cared about her. It was a good feeling to have, considering she once thought she'd completely ruined whatever bond they'd formed several months prior. Knowing that also made the Slayer more determined to return after she was finished helping Giles with his current crisis. She'd taken Connor for granted in a lot of ways, and even though she wasn't really sure how, Faith wanted to make sure she never did that again. Considering their shared experiences -- not just in Chicago and Nevada, but in the past in L.A. as well -- she really owed him more than she'd given.

But that would probably have to wait a while. In two days' time, Faith would be on a plane bound for England. From there, she wasn't sure where she'd wind up. Rupert didn't give many details, though he did tell Faith she'd be dealing with a young Slayer out of Belarus who had accidentally killed a couple people. Faith had been momentarily annoyed at the reality of having to deal with something like this, but the more she thought about it, the more the Slayer felt a little privileged that Giles asked her to help.

If Faith's experience could keep someone else from going down the same road, any personal inconvenience would be worth it.

First thing was first, though; Faith needed to make sure she said her see you laters before leaving. She wouldn't call them goodbyes, because the brunette had every intention of coming back to Chicago once she'd done her bit to help. Between Connor, Avery, Rhiannon and especially Hayden, Faith had a lot of reasons to think of Chicago as home, and she wasn't going to let this diversion keep her from keeping her personal relationships and finding that balance in life.

Standing at the door to Hayden's house, a place she knew well based on all the times she came in search of answers, guidance or just someone with whom to hang, Faith took a deep breath. She knew this wasn't permanent, but the knot in her gut was still there. Another deep breath to make the knot go away, and Faith wrapped her knuckles against the door.

Speakers blasted an acoustic Eric Clapton album. The sound of guitars drifted onto the front porch through an open window. The music was drowned out by a vacuum for a few seconds, which rammed repeatedly into the front door, because whomever operated it wasn't paying attention or didn't care. Hayden opened the door, not because he heard Faith knock, but because he needed to toss a rug onto the porch and beat the dust out.

He paused mid-throw. "Whoa." He stretched out his arm to catch the carpet before it hit the Slayer. "Hey, how long have you been out here?" He smiled at her. Hayden had on a damp t-shirt and ragged khaki shorts. Based on the appliance parked by the door, it was housecleaning time. Pretty typical for a weekend, but he was probably one of few people to regularly attempt it buzzed on a couple of beers. The empties were lined up on the entertainment center, the damp rings underneath showing they hadn't been empty long.

Flinching a little with a bemused expression, Faith chuckled and shook her head. "Long enough to wonder how I can get my own housecleaning service," she joked.

Catching sight of the beer cans, the Slayer stifled another chuckle. Was Hayden doing all this under the influence? Well, if he was, she knew there were worse things to do with beer in one's system. Thankfully, his truck didn't seem to be a part of any of this. Faith stepped aside to let him toss the rug onto the porch. Far be it for her to totally interrupt whatever he was doing.

Studying Hayden for a moment, she noticed he seemed to be in good spirits. She guessed that meant whatever was going on with Kris had been resolved. Faith had been horribly out of the loop of late, thanks mostly to a busted laptop. Chances were, someone tried to send her a message telling of the situation and she just never got any of them. Either way, it was encouraging to see him in an apparently good mood.

"Just wanted to talk," she added as her hands slid into the back pockets of her jeans. "How's Kris?"

"Good... She's good." Hayden scratched the back of his neck. He hadn't wiped off his hand first, so dust mingled with sweat and left a brown streak back there. He looked around as if he didn't recognize his own living room. Granted, it did seem as if a tornado had struck, with couch cushions overturned and damp rags tossed over pieces of furniture. He was a little sheepish to be caught playing house, but got over it fast enough. "Hang on." The vacuum was still roaring in the corner, so he yanked the plug out of the wall and tossed the cord at it.

"Come in, I'll get you a beer." He didn't phrase it as a question, since Faith never turned down a drink. It took some doing to weave around the furniture, but he got to the kitchen without busting his ass and brought back the can.

Never one to turn down a beer, Faith stepped through the threshold and accepted the can with a grin. She cracked it open and took the first swig, wondering if the alcohol was calming her nerves. It might've just been her imagination, but the Slayer thought it was. She wondered if Hayden would express concern over her the way Connor had; honestly, she hoped not. While she appreciated that she now had people who cared, Faith still wasn't sure how to react to it sometimes.

"Glad to hear," she said. "Was hopin' I'd get somewhere on that, but I never did."

Investigation ... never one of Faith's strengths.

"So," she started, staring into the mouth of her can for a moment. It was probably best if she just came right out with it. "I'm headin' to England here in a few days."

Hayden reached for the power knob on his speakers and switched them off. Clapton drifted away. "England?" In the newly quiet house, his voice was overly loud. If he looked confused it was sincere, because he couldn't think up a reason why she'd want to go there. No offense to the country, but it didn't seem like Faith Lehane's cup of tea. So to speak. "That your idea of a summer vacation spot?" He pushed back his hair and took a load off, settling on an arm of the couch. "I haven't taken many, but I think I'd go for Cancun."

He wasn't an idiot. He knew the Council was in England. Rupert Giles was in England. She had managed to stay on the Watcher's payroll for years. Thank god he knew why and didn't have to wonder about her mysterious, elderly benefactor. Certain places, his brain didn't need to go.

"I wish it was a vacation," she admitted before taking another swig, leaning against the wall. "There's this sitch out there Giles needs me for. Slayer outta Belarus accidentally killed a couple people."

She took yet another drink to let that reality settle between the Slayer and her friend, wondering how he'd take to her decision to go. Connor's reaction was slightly skewed by the fact that they didn't yet know why she was hopping a plane to the Mother Country. Now that Faith knew, she was even more resolute in knowing she was right in going. She felt indebted to Giles, for one thing, and she wanted to help someone who'd made this sort of mistake to not go down the same road she did. "He says they've found her, but ... no one knows how to help. Guess that's where I come in."

Hayden's forehead creased. It wasn't exactly worry, but neither was it enthusiasm. "So you're supposed to go in and play coach, huh?" A beer can on the table had a few swallows left. He picked it up and polished those off. His fingers wrapped around the circumference of the aluminum container. He pushed on it until the can dented. "Do they know how she's taking the idea? Help, I mean."

Based on what he'd learned from Faith, she hadn't wanted any help when it happened to her. She played defense by way of offense. Maybe another girl with a different set of circumstances would want a voice of reason. Somebody who could tell her that it wasn't her fault, that fucked up things happened.

Hayden set the can on the table and looked at his friend. "That's a good thing to know before you walk in there."

The Slayer shrugged again, finishing off her beer. "That's the thing," she answered. "Way Giles tells it, one minute she's beggin' for help, the next she's screamin' to get outta there."

If Faith had to guess, that was mostly fear talking. The girl was probably in over her head, dealing with something she was more than likely never even told was a possibility. Faith remembered how stressful being a teenage girl with superpowers was, even without having another human being's blood on her hands. The fact that this girl fucked up -- twice -- and even accidentally took out her own Watcher was cause of concern, and Faith had to admit she was largely in the dark.

Sure, she could relate some, but ... what was this girl like as a person? That was the crux of the matter. "I mean, all the shrinks and Watchers are well and good, but who better to help than someone who did it? If I can keep her head on straight and keep her outta jail, then that's gotta be good, right?"

"No doubt," he said, definitely willing to concede that point. "Greater good and all." The voice of experience had to be useful in a situation like that. Anybody could tell the Slayer that they sympathized, that they forgave her for the mistake, but only a few really got it. It'd be hard for the girl to stare a recovered Slayer in the face and claim it wasn't possible for her.

Hayden added, "I'm not gonna lie and say I'm happy to see you take off, though." He squinted at her and laced his fingers behind his neck. From that position, he watched her across the mess of his living room. "It's for more than one reason. One's kind of preachy and the other's selfish. Wanna hear either one?" If she didn't, he'd shut up and just have a couple of drinks with her. This time was different. Faith wasn't coming for advice. She was letting him know something.

Faith nodded, setting her empty beer can aside. "Not tickled about leaving, myself," she admitted.

She wondered if either of the reasons were the same ones Connor had mentioned; she figured at least one of them was. The Slayer was still a bit stubborn and unsure of how to handle emotional matters, but she'd gotten better at it. It was also easier knowing that it involved someone she trusted as much as Hayden. There weren't many who could get away with being brutally honest with Faith, but he was one of them.

"Go for it," she said with a sly grin. "You know you can be straight with me."

"Here's hoping." Hayden gave her a wry smile and straightened out his legs. Threads hung off the frayed hem of his shorts. There were a few paint splotches, too. He couldn't remember what fixer-up project those were from. Something in Nevada. "Alright, so let me get through the annoying part first. The only thing worse than a lecture's waiting for one."

He looked at his ugly shorts for a little longer, then he said, "You remember when I gave you that present? All the different things you could do in Chicago?" He waited for her to acknowledge it and went on. "It was because you said your whole life was Slaying. You didn't know what else you liked or if you were good at anything else." Hayden took his arms down and rubbed his knees. "Around the same time, we talked about how you always identify yourself with the past... That one incident that's almost fifteen years in the rearview mirror. You sure this isn't gonna put you back at square one?"

"I've thought of that," she said, scratching a sudden itch on her right shoulder. "I mean, I've thought about the past part."

The Slayer took a deep breath, studying the couch cushions and the carpet. Sometimes, focusing on something visually helped her think better. It wasn't often, but she noticed it on occasion. She regarded Hayden again once she'd collected her thoughts, uncharacteristically taking her time in pleading her case. She wanted to make sure she got this one right, whatever right was.

"Few years ago, I woulda looked at this and thought, 'Shit, why's this gotta come up again? I did my time, I paid by dues.' But now, it's less that and more wanting to make sure this girl's not alone. I eventually got help, but it was kinda late in the game. Instead of dwelling on my past, I wanna use it to help someone else's future -- and I might not even lift a stake to do it."

She smirked, shook her head. "Not usually this deep, I swear."

Hayden laughed and shook his head. "Man... you kill me," he told her. "The way you always apologize for reflecting first instead of shooting from the hip. There's nothing wrong with it. At least, I hope not, since I sit around pondering things until smoke comes out of my ears." He pointed at the drink in her hand. "Beer helps."

A couple of seconds went by. He had his concerns for her, but it seemed like Faith had already thought that side of things through. How it would turn out, nobody knew yet, but there was a good chance it would finally let Faith see how far she'd come (by way of direct comparison) and exorcise the memory for good.

"Alright, moving on. Selfishly, it sucks to see you go." He pulled on the hem of his shorts. "You give me a lot of credit for helping you out, but you helped me, too."

Faith cocked her head to the side. "Yeah?"

She wasn't really sure how she could've helped; mostly because Faith couldn't see any concrete evidence of it. From what she could tell, Hayden was a well-adjusted guy who just so happened to live his life knee-deep in weird shit. He was smart, good-looking, had a nice, demon-killing girlfriend ... what did he need help with, exactly? Then again, there was probably a lot about his life Faith didn't know, because as close as they'd been, she knew they hadn't really known each other that long.

Still, even if she didn't really know how she was helping him, knowing she had been was a nice thought. She allowed herself a brief smile, brushing a strand of hair behind her left ear. "How so?"

"Ahh..." He stalled and scratched his jaw. He didn't mind opening up and being sentimental, but Hayden usually found himself in the helper role, which was how he liked things. It wasn't often that he bared his soul. "Before you got to Chicago, I'd been through a couple of rough years, I think I told you that. I didn't leave Searchlight under good circumstances. Actually, it was... pretty fucking bad," he said and laughed under his breath. "Me and Kris weren't working out and I was kind of hiding out, pretending I didn't know anything about demons, because of what happened back in the desert. So... when everybody started moving into Chicago, I kinda resented it. I guess I knew I was gonna get dragged back in."

He looked at Faith. "But when we hung out, we could talk about demons and then just kick back and drink a few beers and shoot some pool. There wasn't any pressure. It was just a good time. And then you needed my help and I got to remembering how I used to be good at it. You know? I had forgotten that. I just remembered when shit hit the fan."

The smile on Faith's face grew the more she heard her friend talk. She still didn't completely understand how helping in that regard was a good thing, but she knew enough to know it was something she could feel good about. She scratched at her shoulder again, letting Hayden's words truly sink in. The smile faded after a few moments, but the emotion that caused it lingered a little while longer.

She was gonna miss it here. Even if she was only gone for a few weeks, she'd miss Chicago.

"I'd tell you how that makes me feel," she said, "but that would just be awkward and shit, so I'm just gonna say thanks and promise that I'll be back. Not sure when, but you're not gettin' rid of me that easily."

He snapped his fingers. "Damn."

Hayden smiled and got up. "You need another one?" A hand gestured at Faith's can of beer. "'Cause I need something, probably water, which is exactly not what I want, but I don't want to pass out in a bath tub full of bleach cleaner." He collected the cans in the crook of his arm, preparing to put them in the recycling bin. "I hear that's worse than cigarettes."

Always, he tried to keep it light. That was something they both appreciated, just being two friends knocking around, cracking jokes instead of delivering heartfelt buddy sentiments. On his way to the kitchen, he shouted back, "Also, when are you leaving?"

"Day after tomorrow." Which reminded Faith; she needed to pack. She wasn't planning on taking much -- partly because she didn't know how long she'd be gone, and she was sure Giles would provide her with anything she needed and didn't have -- but it still needed done. Faith dreaded that move, in part because it would make the reality of her leaving that much more real. The Slayer wasn't sure why she was feeling this way; she knew this wasn't a permanent move.

Was she really that tied to this place? To the point where even a temporary trip was a bit of a bummer?

"You know, nuthin' major," she added. "Wait at O'Hare til cobwebs start growin' in my armpits, load onto a plane, hop over the pond and deal with never-ending rain and boiled meat."

"They don't actually eat that, do they?" Hayden shouted from the kitchen. His mom's family was from England, but he hadn't been overseas since a holiday when he was ten years old. Mostly he remembered fish and chips, and that time he turned down an offer of a biscuit and came to regret it. Out of the refrigerator, he grabbed a single can of beer. Then he fixed himself a cold glass of water and headed back into the living room. He passed the can to the Slayer and sipped his drink.

"Make sure to take a picture next to that great, big clock." He smiled and sat on the couch arm again. Given that this was the last time he'd see Faith for a while, he was glad neither of his roommates was home. Cleaning the house was one of a hundred little surprise thank-you's to Izzy. Since she helped him out with Kris and the explosives, he tried to keep from pissing her off. It was the least he could do.

Cracking open the second beer can and taking the first sip, Faith grinned. "All I gotta say is, there better be McDonald's out there. Boiled meat just sounds about thirteen different kinds of gross."

The Slayer took a longer swig from her can, wiping her mouth with the back of her right wrist. This was exactly the sort of thing she was gonna miss, and the exact sort of thing she looked forward to coming back to. She hadn't even left yet, and already Faith was looking forward to coming back.

"Big clock for Hayden, got it," she grinned. "I'll make sure to call, too. Ya know, when I get there, a couple times to chat, when I get back ..."

Another sip of beer, Faith raising the can in her friend's direction. "Just hope another portal don't open up while I'm gone and try to suck Chicago into Hell again."

He grumbled from the back of his throat. "Banish the thought, we're on mental vacation," he said, referring to himself and his girlfriend. "If I could talk Kris into it, we'd leave on a real one. I actually think she might be coming around on that. This last thing took a lot out of her." Finding out her family could fend for themselves had been a double-edged sword, too. On the one hand, it gave her the freedom to ignore them. On the other, it hurt like hell.

He set his drink down. He even used a coaster. "Definitely call me to let me know you landed and your ride showed up and this girl's not a complete whack job," said Hayden. "If you don't catch me, leave a detailed message. I want to know everything's okay."

"Deal," Faith agreed. "And if she is a whack job, I'll beat the shit out of her."

The self-satisfied grin on her face showed she was only half-serious in her threat. But now that she thought about it, that would probably be a feasible option if this girl was really off the wall. Sure, that would be more dangerous than originally thought, but if a good ass-kicking straightened the girl out, then that would be just as good as if Faith just talked the girl off the ledge and let her start living normal again. But Faith wouldn't know how to handle it until she saw the other Slayer firsthand.

"I'm glad she's got you," Faith added after another swig and furrowing her brow. "Kris, not ... Potential Whack Out Girl."

"Me, too. On both counts." Hayden chuckled and echoed her by taking a sip. "And it's not just that she's got me. I've got her." He realized how confusing that came out and tried to make sense of it. "I mean, being with her is good for me. It saves my ass routinely." He furrowed his eyebrows. "It's not all that obvious, but it's true. I'm kind of a wimp without her." It was weird how it worked. Being with a super-strong woman made him stronger and not the reverse, like some guys assumed.

A loud buzzer interrupted his explanation. He gestured down the hall. "Laundry," he explained. "It's a good idea to have clean underwear."

"Yeah," Faith agreed, finishing her beer. "Don't wanna wind up in the ambulance with stained drawers."

Placing the empty can on the nearby table -- with a coaster, since Hayden seemed really serious in cleaning the place -- Faith stood and ran her hands over her thighs once. She then stuffed them in her back pockets, giving a sheepish grin as she approached her friend. This felt awkward, even though she and Hayden had hugged a time or two already. That, on top of the hug she gave Connor the night before, and one would've thought Faith would be an old pro by now.

"Guess I should go," she said. "I just wanted to come tell you the sitch. Ya know ... not say goodbye, but more like see ya."

Even though it felt weird, Faith then reached out her arms, wrapping them around Hayden and resting her chin on his shoulder. She wasn't sure how tight the hug was supposed to be, or how long she was supposed to hold on, but she figured she could just follow her friend's lead in that regard. She just looked forward to the hug when she got back.

He put his arms around her and hugged back. "Take care of yourself, okay?" Fortunately, Hayden was an old pro at hugs and knew how to take one. He held on for a couple of seconds, gave her shoulders a squeeze, and then let Faith go. He finished it off with a knuckle-shot to her shoulder. "We'll play some pool when you get back. Better keep up your game in between counseling sessions. I'd hate to embarrass you."

The researcher got up and went to the door. He was glad she came by in-person and didn't just dip out of town. 'Oh hey, I went to England,' would've sucked as an email afterthought. He pulled open the door and leaned on it. He wasn't going to say good-bye. People came and went in their circles; barring anything disastrous happening, he trusted Faith to end up stateside again.

"Big talk, Watcher Man," she teased, backing out of the doorway and giving Hayden her best I'm the shit and I know it grin. She was glad she got to catch her best friend before leaving, and Faith hoped she'd be able to see Rhiannon and Avery as well. They weren't quite as close, but they were still friends, and Faith decided that even if she couldn't see them, she wanted to at least call them before she left. It was important for Faith to remember why she wanted to come back; she planned on reminding herself every day while she was away of her friends in the Windy City.

"Be seeing you," she said before disappearing down the sidewalk. Maybe this was what Faith needed to put what happened in Sunnydale behind her for good -- well, as much behind her as she could. Using her past to help someone else avoid a horrible future -- what part of that could Faith say no to? Sure, it would be hard, but that was what made it worthwhile in the first place.

Besides, it'd be nice to see Rupert again. Maybe she'd even run into Corbett.