Hybrid Theory

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"Faith!"

The dark-haired slayer turned around quickly to face a person she hadn't seen, heard, or talked to in almost two years, since she woke up from her coma after her dive off the top of her apartment building onto that moving truck. Okay, being stabbed by her sister slayer wasn't smart. The jumping thing wasn't either. Hell, killing that dude and joining the damned evil side wasn't the best idea she'd ever had either.

But she was making amends for it now. She snorted. Yeah, right. People here didn't give a shit. You were either black or white. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Didn't matter if you were so close to one. If you had a brush with the dark, you were automatically filed there.

She wondered if this...grown woman in front of her would think differently. Would she forgive? The last time she had seen Buffy, she had snatched her body. The last time she had seen Willow, she had been IN Buffy's snatched body. Xander, the vampire, the girlfriends for Xander and Willow, Buffy's boyfriend...she had probably destroyed whatever had happened THERE. Damn, she really had messed things up. Well, only one way to find out if to forgive and forget was put into use.

The red hair was grown out much longer than when she had last seen it. Not that she had paid attention to her hair. It was just a perk she noticed.

There was something else different about her, also. She was too tense. There was something wrong. Well, duh. Her being here should have clued her in to that. She tuned out the noise from the party and turned her attention to woman in front of her.

"What, no shying away from the crazy psycho? Someone's changed." Faith gave a hollow chuckle. She tucked her hands into the pockets of her black leather pants and cocked her head to the side.

"Faith, this isn't the time for jokes. We need your help."

Faith grinned sardonically and leaned forward. "I'm sorry, I don't think I heard correctly. You need me? What the hell for? What the hell are you even doing here, Red? Shouldn't you be with your little witchy sweetheart that figured out my own little mojo?" Faith was about to turn around when she saw a subtle change in the red head. She had said something wrong. She gave Willow a once over.

"What happened?" She crossed her arms waiting for an answer. When none came she glared at Willow until the red head would look at her. "What hap-"

"Look, I'm not here to talk about me, okay? We need you," Willow snapped, eyes flaring dangerously.

Faith leaned back and sneered. She immediately stopped. He got mad when she "used his expressions." She was also sorely tempted to roll her eyes.

"Okay, I'll go with that. You need me. For what?"

"The slayers-in-training..." Willow started.

"Oh, so I'm going to be the 'Do what we tell you so you don't end up like this' example. Thanks but no thanks." Faith uncrossed her arms and was fully prepared to stalk across the room and raid the alcohol table, but Willow grabbed her arm. Faith looked down at the pale hand that had a death grip on her forearm.

"What the hell happened to you?" She asked incredulously.

"We need you to help us with the slayers-in-training. They're scared. The Hellmouth? It's going to blow. Teeth, mouth, big black hole...and I stress the big part. You're a slayer. You belong with us. We. Need. Your. Help. Buffy needs your help. So come home, Faith."

Damn. When did the little witch get so inspiring and speech-like? She wanted to say no. She was all set to say so, too. But she just happened to look over to a dark corner and spot blonde. Two blondes. Two blondes that were WAY too close. Like skin touching close. Lip touching close.

Anger gripped her heart tightly as she saw red, and it wasn't just Willow's hair. He had promised. PROMISED. 'A Malfoy's word is never broken.' Never broken her ass. Well it just was.

She turned back to Willow, a determined look crossing her face.

"Lead the way."

~*~*~*~*~*~

If he heard another insane giggle coming from that stupid, drooling, dripping mouth fastened on that cow of a woman, he was going to rip her tongue from her mouth, attach wings to it, and switch it out for a snitch in the next Quidditch World Cup, hoping that a bludger would come along and smack the thing around until it no longer resembled anything.

Damn, he had gotten violent suddenly. No doubt Faith's influence. He wasn't NEARLY as violent normally. Wordy and curse-y? Certainly. Most certainly. He could swear better than a drunken sailor. But ready to become excessively violent? That was pure Faith.

He snickered when he replayed that last thought. Pure Faith. There was no such thing. Figuratively and literally. Faith wasn't pure. Just as he wasn't pure. Bad boy on redemption was all the rage because he was paving the way. Girls kept falling at his feet. It was wonderful. This was even better than when he was full-on bad boy because now he was getting the best of both worlds. The goodies were trying to get him to come over completely and expose his 'sensitive and gentle' side that every single person hid underneath them or some other rot. The baddies were trying to get him to come back and get his 'dark and evilness' to jump back out. It was perfect. Girls got into fights all over the place over him.

Except for the one girl he REALLY wanted to fight over him with, because she could kick all their arses with her eyes closed. She wouldn't be deterred. He had even promised to stay away from women. She bet him he couldn't do it.

Did she count as the 'women'? Because he was just about to shag her right then and there. He was still edgy from the fighting he has just done and the bit of alcohol he already consumed had not done a thing to help him in his fight in keeping control.

He looked around for said woman, spotting her with a redhead.

His eyes widened. There was no way. The hair was longer, the face was more apprehensive, the body was leaner-but it had to have been the witch Faith had known. 'W' something. It was a tree...Willow! Willow, that was it. It looked as if Faith had been running her mouth because Willow had tensed even more. She then grabbed at Faith when she started walk off.

That was a big no-no. People generally liked having two arms. Therefore, if you wanted both of them...you didn't touch one of hers.

"Draco, darling, have you had this champagne yet?"

Champagne? Try firewhiskey. He had already had two glasses plus numerous other assortments of alcohols. He was pretty sure he was almost drunk. Except Malfoys don't get drunk. He wished she would just let him watch Faith.

"No, Pansy. I haven't. Please leave, as I have told you to do so numerous times before."

"Too bad. I just had the most wonderful glass. You should get some. Oh, wait. There isn't anymore."

Warning bells were going off in his mind. Something had changed in her voice. It just changed from her 'normal but trying to be sexy voice' to her 'trying way too hard to be sexy' voice. There was a definite difference. He didn't like either of them, but of the two, the latter was his least favorite.

"You'll just have to taste it off of me."

This was bad. This was very bad.

Pansy Parkinson had just grabbed the back of his head and slammed her lips to his. He hated kissing her. He loathed it. He reviled it. He abhorred it. He ostracized it. He detested it. There were not enough words to describe her kiss.

He pushed her away, but not quick enough. He felt her tongue. He HATED the tongue. The kissing was bad enough, but the tongue was much worse. Draco really thought he was going to throw up. Being in a slightly tipsy state had slowed his senses and reactions. He desperately hoped Faith hadn't seen that.

Because he had promised. That little bet meant more than anything. It wasn't just a bet...it was his word. A Malfoy's word is never broken. Never. Involuntary or voluntary. There would be everything and anything done to make sure it was held in place.

Even though he was considered a disgrace to many, he was still a Malfoy. And he held the Malfoy name with pride. A Malfoy's word is never broken. And if it is...someone dies.

"Parkinson...I will kill you if you are not out of my sight in two point five seconds."

Damn, two point five. Honestly...another Faith quirk. He saw brown eyes widen and then they were gone. The girl had apparated herself out. She hadn't even bothered with running. At least she had SOME brains.

When he turned around, Faith was gone. He turned his head this way and that, searching frantically for any sign of the red or brown hair he was looking for her.

But she was gone.

"She left with that red haired woman."

Draco wanted to jump out of his skin when he heard the voice behind him, but he managed to contain himself. When he turned around, he couldn't contain the frantic shake in his voice.

"Which direction did they go?"

"They didn't. They disappeared. Disapparated, I guess. Whatever magic that witch does."

"Dammit," Draco groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead.

"But I do know the direction they were headed."

Draco turned to the speaker and looked at them as if they had grown a second head.

"'Home.'" The speaker grinned amusedly.

"Shit," Draco swore and ran off, knocking the man who was smiling wide in the shoulder.

"I was wrong about you, Draco Malfoy," Harry Potter said, still with that damnable grin, "So very wrong. You get your psycho killing girl. You two belong together."

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