Title: Childe of the Daywalker, pt. 2

Author: BKFaith

Email: BKFaith@hotmail.com

Fandom: Buffyverse (incl. AtS at some point)/Blade

Pairing: Faith/OC

Rating: RRR, maybe NC-17 for sexy situations

Spoilers: Anything in Buffyverse or Blade goes, but it’s not too spoil-y here in AU land

Disclaimer: I own nada, except for Raylan’s characterization, Faith, Kit, Carlos, the City of New York all belong to other people not me. This is just fanciful imagination. Faith gets it on with a lady, just to let you know.

A/N: I’m trying to work out some kinks, answer some questions, lead up to a sex scene and get some exposition in there without being boring. Let’s see if that degree came in handy. Not beta’d so mistakes I own.

Thanks yous: To everybody who bothered to read and send feedback. Carla for your encouragement and questions. To all my buds who don’t make fun of me for reading (and writing) fanfic. The peeps at Slayer Pride. And my baby ANK for loving and supporting me . And putting up with my Faith/Eliza Dushku obsession.

Feedback: yaaaayyyy! bkfaith@hotmail.com

Hunter (chapter 1)

I’m going Hunting
I’m the Hunter

I’m the Hunter…~Bjork

Faith was bothered. And hot. She hated working at the Chop Shop. Not that she didn’t love cars, grease and screwing things, it was just having to talk to all those assholes who could afford to blow their wads on juiced up cars was real low on her list of fun activities. Luckily she was working today with Carlos and Kit. She never thought they’d make it on their journey to New York, or leave Dawn. But they did. They reminded her of so many complex, beautiful, bitter times. She loved them fiercely and without reservation. She checked her watch—1 o’clock. Good, Raylan wouldn’t be in until 4 so she had time with the crew to plan the surprise.

The door to the garage opened bringing, Carlos, Ricky, James and a whole lotta loud music with ‘em.

You gotta fight
For your right
To parrrrrrttttaayyyy

“Yo what’s up Faith” Carlos greeted.

“Carlito” Faith hollered with a smirk.

Carlos flipped up a peace sign while walking into his office.

“Hey Faith, is Ray coming in today? I wanna talk to her about maybe working at the club”

“What James? Working with the grease monkeys isn’t good enough for you?”

“It’s not that Faith” Ricky replied for her “She met someone at the cluuuuubbb” he giggled.

“Fuck off Ricky” James spat.

“Jamie, ya leaving me for some ass?” Faith teased wiggling her brows.

“Faith. Come on. I’m just tired of waking up early.” James responded dryly.

Faith snorted,” Now that I believe. Let me talk with Raylan, Jamie. After that, you can speak to her.”

James nodded and headed back to the work out room, “I’ma hit the racks for a few before working.”

“Gotcha, work on your lower body kid” Faith shouted while sliding under the vintage hunter green Jaguar. She saw two feet shuffling near the car. “What Ricky?” she said without getting out from under the chassis.

“I, uh, I need…to, to talk to you” he paused.

Faith was silent for a minute before sliding back out from under the Jag. She looked at him with what seemed like contempt, but was really concern. She still wasn’t so great at compassion, but she knew how to listen.

“First, turn off that shit or close the door.” She said pointing to the stereo. “ I know you think it’s cool to listen to vintage Beastie Boys, but you were barley alive when that song came out.” She said laughing.

Rick complied, shutting the door and turned back around looking like the first time he saw a vampire.

“Rick. Chill. And pull up a seat” Faith sat legs akimbo facing him on her chair.” So. Talk.”

“It’s about Zaire” he hushed.

Faith was out of her seat and on him before even she knew it.

“What. The fuck. Do you know about Zaire?” gritting through straight white teeth she held him like a brittle stick, ready to break him.

“Faith pleaasseeee.” Rick pleaded “I just heard…please…you’re hurting me.”

Suddenly returning to Planet Earth, New York, Brooklyn, the Chop Shop, she saw him—Rick. Her little buddy. The little Italian kid she rescued from street work. The 17 year-old who sometimes slept at her house because he felt safest with her. The one she would buy beer for sometimes. She blinked twice and saw him.

“Rick” she spoke softly, tentatively “I’m so sorry baby. I just. That name. You do know never to speak her name to Raylan unless you really want to get hurt.” she laughed slightly.

“Yeah, I, well, that’s why I mentioned it to you.” He paused quickly, “Can I tell you?”

Faith just nodded with darkened eyes.

“I was with Kit’s team, patrolling” he raised up his hands in surrender as her hackles rose” wait, wait, just a test run with LOTS of back up. I know I’m not ready to fight yet Faithy.”

She smiled. Damn this kid. He was the only one who could get away with calling her Faithy.

“Anyway, we were uptown, near Mount Morris Park,” Faith nodded her understanding “these cats were talking about a hit going down. Something sketchy, couldn’t really catch it. But,” he said with tempered caution, “they were talking about Deluge and Zaire.” He stopped, waiting. For an explosion, threats, for Faith to slam or break things. But she just sat down, slowly. Almost in defeat or grief. He was most scared when she was silent.

“Rick, think very carefully” she paused for affect, but really to arrest her desire to scream in frustration, “When did you and Kit hear this and who was it you heard or saw?”

Rick thought, looking solemnly at the Jaguar, the ceiling, the door. “Maybe 3 nights ago. The dudes were weird-looking. Not vamps, but big guys. Big humans…I think, but weird.”

Faith nodded her assent. “Rick, I’m not mad, but I need you to leave. Go help Carlos with the inventory. Tell the others to not disturb me until I say it’s okay.”

He nodded, turned to leave, “I’m sorry Faith. I , wanted to tell you earlier but I had to head out of town ‘cuz of problems with my pops.”

She looked at him skeptically, but quickly changed her visage to one of concern. “You okay baby boy? He okay?”

“Yeah, yeah” He smiled, “we’re all good now. Thanks Faith.”

“Cool.” Faith picked up the phone, dialing Kit’s extension, “Kit, yeah it’s Faith. Let’s talk.”

Respiration (chapter 2)

The new moon rode high
On the crown of the Metropolis
Shining, like “Who on top of this?”
People was arguing hustling and bustling
Gangstas of Gotham hardcore hustling
~Black Star

Raylan was worried. Something was off, tickling at her edge of her subconscious. Why had Zaire showed up at the club with no reinforcements, talking bullshit? This is fuckin’ the wrong time for mind games. Not really her style. But, then again, anything is her style. Her phone rang, breaking her thoughts.

“Blade here.”

“Oh really?” said the rich, round tone.

“Dad.” She smirked.

“You know, you can’t go around using other people’s names.” He teased.

“Okay, Ericcccc” she shot back laughing.

“Hey! Only your mom-mom called me that” there was a brief awkward silence between them at the mention of her sired grandmother.

“Look Raylan, this Zaire thing concerns me.” He stopped.

“You heard about that?”

“Raylan Nyssa” he almost growled “Zaire is not your friend. You know this. Now tell me why she isn’t dead.”

Raylan, sighed, pulling her corvette off the FDR and turning onto Houston Street. She pulled over on Avenue A so she could speak with her father. But her feelings were already twisted. Every time they spoke, it was the same silent argument.


Why are you involved with this woman?

I don’t know dad. We’re…we’re just trying to work…

She’s a demon Raylan!!

Hey, you can’t talk. You’re a fucking vampire!!! Oh sorry HALF-a-fuckin’ vampire.


What about my mother? Wasn’t she a demon?


That’s always where the conversation ended. Bring up my dead mother, the immortalized Nyssa and my father just shut down. Freak.


“Dad, she isn’t dead, because we haven’t fought yet.”

“Do you…Do you still have feelings for her?”

Raylan was shocked into silence. Her father never asked her about feelings or relationships or Faith. But now he was asking about Zaire.

“No” she hedged “I just knew it wasn’t time for us to do battle. But Faith and I and the crew will be ready.”

“Good.” He snorted.  “I know Faith is a warrior. Let her know I need to speak to her about some of the young Slayers she sent down here.”

“Okay Dad. Uh…thanks for calling” Raylan sighed turning the ‘vette back on.

“I’ll check in with you next week when Whistler gets back from Texas. He said he needs to check your blood levels. Bye.”

“Okay…I.” The line was dead before she could respond. “Prick.”

Be Here (Chapter 3)

You should be here
in the morning time
when I’m making my breakfast
To feel me
To heal
To wrap me to trap me and climb me
~Raphael Saadiq

Raylan pulled up in front Faith’s place. Technically, the apartment belonged to their corporation, Blade Industries, Inc. But since they basically were the entire company, it was simply semantics. She sighed, lighting a cigarette and staring up at Faith’s window. Lights are on but dim. Okay what’s up Faith? Strange call. When the fuck does Faith take off from the shop in the middle of the day to come home? Weird. Raylan opened the door, flicking her the America Spirit behind her and head up to the second floor. She could sense there was something off and she pulled out her 7-inch knife, readying for the attack. She pushed opened Faith’s bedroom door, nearly dropping her weapon. There sat Faith. Practically naked. She looked as if she were wearing one of the go-go girls outfits from Deluge. She probably was.

“Faith…?” she squeaked while shaking her head.

“Okay just listen. I wanted to do something cute for our anniversary. But nothing too fancy ‘cuz I know how you freak out about that stuff.” Faith paused for the inevitable…

“I do not freak out!!” Raylan countered.

“Uh huh, all I have to say is Montreal last summer.” Faith raised her brows waiting for a response, “ Rest my case. Anywho, I know we’re kinda of –things get really hectic around here. You know, Slayers and vampires and Daywalkers but…, but I just wanted…with all this shit.” She gesticulated nowhere and everywhere “and the club the other night…I just wanted you to know. I’m here. You know, with you.” Faith looked down blushing, but smiling slyly because she always knew how to rope Raylan in.

“You sly dog.” Raylan teased, “I definitely could not turn down such a thoughtful presentation.” sauntering over to Faith, she took down her locks, shaking them gently so Faith could drink her image in.

“You know Faith,” she spoke holding Faith’s head in her hands, “It’s been a while since you were on the bottom.”


Faith’s breathed deeply and contentedly. Her legs wrapped tightly around that body. Heels digging into that gorgeous ass above her. There was sweat, sheen and soon there would be blood. She pulled Raylan’s head back for a kiss. Soft full lips on softer, fuller lips. Obsidian eyes dancing with amber brown. When they were connected like this, flesh molding, sticking, implying and modern science filling the natural gap between their precious places, Faith knew she believed in love. Even as Raylan sank her incisors in her neck, like the hottest knives in the softest of butters. She knew this was love. Letting a vampire. Part vampire. Daywalker. Whatever. Drinking from her was the ultimate affront to her calling. But it was love. It didn’t feel like this with Angel was her last thought before she fell into blissful oblivion.

They moved with preternatural speed and accuracy, not racing to the climax, just building and stacking and pushing and pulling. Strong warriors allowing domination and submission. Being taken felt so good. She bucked her hips, throwing her arms around the back of the finest woman she had ever known. The blood stopped flowing. She heard her heart. Or was it Raylan’s. Or was it hers?


Jesus, I sound like a crack head she humored

Ah Raylan, yeah baby, right there

“Ray” she whispered, moving honey-tinged dreadlocks out of the way, “Push it deeper.”

Raylan smiled as she laid Faith back on the bed.


Rough, calloused olive hands tangled in the thickest of coiled locks. Faith smiled Let me run my fingers through your—dread-locks she hummed in her head with frightening glee. She was home. It was twilight as Faith molded her mouth to be supplicant to soft, sweet flesh. Women, men, all the people whom she had used, discarded and fucked. Never once did she think she could stick around for joy. It was almost silly to her that she could still feel intimacy in the act of love-making. This feeling, this love is what she always wanted. Those sweaty moments with Buffy, both of them panting and wondering what a gentle touch would do. The sly and not-so-subtle fire of sexual tension she and Cordelia shared. Xander, Angel, Dawn…damn all of them. Scoobies—I think I’ve found my cure. And then her mind was filled with the scent of her woman and went blank.

Freedom (Chapter 4)

Solo, I’m a soloist on a solo list
All live, never on a floppy disk
Inka, inka bottle of ink
Paintings of rebellion
Drawn up by thoughts I think
~Rage Against the Machine

Faith raised her arms to stretch, taking an elastic tie off her wrist to tie her deep brown ebony mane on top of her head. She tugged at her tank top trying to visualize the katas of her routine. Ich, ni, san, shi. Maybe I should work on the weapons katas, getting’ sloppy. She threw a weak roundhouse on migi and blew a long breath of frustration out. Dammit Faith! Concentrate! She calmed herself, doing gosho and willing her self back together, finishing the training with perfect ease and grace. She spoke before the room’s intruder could.

“You know,” she said turning with a smirk, “you could get hurt sneaking up on a girl,”

Raylan just laughed, leaning on the door beam with her arms crossed.

“Well,” she spoke with a suggestive leer, “someone might get hurt, but I doubt it’ll be me.”

“Oh I see, so someone’s famous daughter is feelin’ pretty confident?” Faith snorted

“Hmm. I see I’ve been reduced to just being someone’s daughter. Famous one though,” Raylan said cocking a brow, “care to test me?”

The Slayer and the Daywalker were no strangers to fighting one another, their sparring or “battle royals” as the crew called them, were fierce, scary and wonderfully sexy. The fighting seemed to be even more vehement after a night of love-making. Today was no exception. They circled each other, one coming forward and pulling back. Their styles were similar but different enough to highlight each warriors’ strengths and weaknesses. Faith was a Slayer of incredible power. She was second to none, although she still carried resentment that she was always seen as the ‘second slayer’. She knew her true power- Slayer strength, street fighting skills firmed up by a stint in the pokey, and a razor sense of timing and lust for blood. Raylan, was on the other hand, a different breed. She was a powerful but reluctant fighter. Where her father was raw power, domination and force, she was coercion, threats and slyness. Truly, she was afraid of the power she possessed, but with Faith, she came close to unleashing her demon.

The slayer struck first with a jumping hammer fist. She figured what the fuck? Let’s start big. Unfortunately, the fist missed, leaving her side vulnerable. The Daywalker responded by throwing a knee kick to the Slayers side, forcing the Slayer to suck in breath quickly and use the force of the kick to clip the Daywalker’s legs. It went on like this for hours. And hours. One getting the upper hand, then losing it to the other. The Chop Shop crew watched form the observatory, amazed by the lovers, the fighters, their bosses go at it. It was always most exciting when they got to the weapons.

“Look!!” Kit said pointing excitedly,” Ray’s getting the bow. ‘Faith you’re going down’” she shouted while smiling.

Faith looked up quickly and smiled back. She knew Kit had a little thing for Raylan. It was cute.

“No fuckin’ way Kit” countered Ricky “Faith’s got the ‘chucks. Ray’s totally done for.” He said in defense of his hero.

Raylan gripped the bow in both hands, bringing it over her right shoulder spinning it hard to connect with Faith’s head. Faith ducked, but not in time and went flying across the training room.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh shit!” the small crowd said in unison.

“Someone was a bad girl last night.” An observer commented.

“Or a very good one…” James said quietly.

Faith, not to be outdone, back-flipped and sent a roundhouse-back-punch-straight leg kick combination, landing the last kick forcefully on her lover’s solar plexus. Raylan laid sprawled on the floor, exhausted and amused.

“Damn baby, you got me with that one.” She paused for breath, “Are the kids still watching?”

“You know it mama.” She extended her hand gracefully to Raylan, “We done here? Cuz if not, we better really start fighting or we’ll be here all night.” Faith licked her lips and cracked her knuckles.

“Uncle, baby, uncle.” Raylan said with an impish grin.

Suddenly serious Faith pointed out, “We need to do thorough patrol tonight.”

“Yeah, yeah I know.” Raylan straightened out her hair while walking, “I wanted to talk to you about…about looking for Zaire.” She turned around to see Faith’s reaction.

Faith was practiced in not showing her feelings. Growing up on the streets, watching her mother die so slowly, all alone, her father being killed, prison, saving the world. All kind of made me a first-class practitioner of the poker face Ray.

“You sure?” she asked with metered caution, “You ready?”

“What’s ready?” Raylan responded with a humorless laugh, “I just know that Zaire is out there gathering forces and she’s not the patient type.”

Faith nodded curtly, “Alright girlfriend, you say the word we do this.”

“Call a meeting for tonight at 7. Let’s do it at the warehouse on 64th.”

“Cool.” Faith said looking up at the observatory window, “The natives are getting restless. Guess they want to see some fighting or fuc—“

“Faith!” Raylan screeched out a laugh.

“What Ray, you know it’s true. Even the fags get a titter at our little ‘work outs’” she said making air quotes. “Ya prude.” Winking at her lover she head out the training room.

“Slut!!” Raylan called back, all the while smiling the biggest smile in the world.

Section 3



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