Barracuda

[peroxidepirate]

Title: Barracuda
Rating: PG
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Disclaimer: These characters and their universe are not owned by me.
Characters: Buffy, Faith
Word count: 1000
Summary: What might have been, if Buffy's first watcher had never found her.

Los Angeles, Early March, 1997

The basketball team was having a great year. And Buffy Summers, sophomore --already considered the best cheerleader Hemery High had ever had -- threw herself into the end-of-season celebration.

It was at the beach. There was a bonfire, a barbecue, maybe some beers. The sand, the wind, some huge waves, and a cute forward named Josh catching her eye every time she looked up.

The guys started daring each other to go out into the surf, laughing and egging each other on.

"See, this is why I'M THE MAN!" called one player. "Look at me, yo! I'm not afraid!" He held his arms wide, facing back toward the beach. "Can any of you girls do this?"

Josh caught Buffy's eye, yet again, and grinned over his beer. "I bet Summers could."

Everybody laughed, because Buffy -- though beautiful and athletic -- was the smallest person at the beach.

So she just grinned back at Josh, threw down her jacket, kicked off her shoes, and waded into the water.

It was fun at first. Then the waves grew higher, and the wind picked up. There was an undertow that grew stronger and stronger. Buffy lost her footing and her head went under. She kicked out, but it was hopeless. She was drowning.

The next thing she knew she was lying on the sand, a circle of faces looking down at her.

"See, I told you she'd be fine!" Josh was saying.

Buffy blinked water out of her eyes, coughed, and sat up. "What happened?" she croaked.

"We pulled you out of the drink," Josh explained. "You weren't breathing. I... gave you mouth-to-mouth."

"Yeah, unless he just wanted to make out with you," one of the other players teased.

Josh grinned. "Well..."

Buffy blinked again. "You saved my life. Thank you."

Josh held out his hand. "Wanna make out?"

Buffy smiled. "Okay."



Boston, Late March, 1997

When classes let out at Hamilton Center for Alternative Education, it was snowing again. Faith Lehane tugged a stocking cap over her ears and zipped up her hoodie.

Hamilton didn't really go in for athletics, but it did have a cross-country team. Practice was cancelled due to the weather, but Faith wasn't going to let that stop her. For the past couple of weeks, she'd been smashing records -- unofficially, in practice. This weekend was the first meet since she'd turned that corner, and she was looking forward to doing something right for once. Felt kinda good not to screw up.

Anyway, that's what she'd been thinking until Jeeves showed up halfway through her warm-up routine. Now she looked up at him with a shit-eating grin. Either the guy was flat out crazy, or he was using the most complicated pick-up line she'd come across yet.

"So you're saying I'm a superhero?"

He wiped the falling snow off his glasses. "Well... yes," he stammered. "Yes, I suppose I am."

"And you want to take me to California?"

"That's right." His tone made it sound like going to California was comparable to facing a firing squad.

Shivering inside her jacket, Faith looked around at the falling snow. Not like her folks would show up for the meet, even if it didn't get cancelled. And there was probably cross-country in CA, too. She grinned again. "When do we leave?"



Sunnydale, April 2000

Faith paced the living room like a caged tiger. Weird to know she'd be graduating from high school and moving out in a few short weeks. Weirder that Jenny Calendar had married Giles and moved in over winter break. Weirdest of all, Faith and Sheila -- to the amazement of everyone but Giles and Oz -- would both be going to UC-Sunnydale in the fall.

But first, they had a battle to fight.

Faith paced.

The clock struck. It was almost time.

Faith came to a stop in front of the fireplace. "Remember the plan. Oz is the spirit. Sheila's the heart. Giles is the mind. I'm the body." She looked them each in the eye in turn. "Spike and Veruca, you're guarding the other three while I take this thing out. Jenny and Devon, you'll be here at the house, keeping mystical watch on the spirit plain. Any questions?"

All around, Faith's friends shook their heads.

"Then arm up, everybody," the slayer called, a smile spreading across her face. "I don't know what these G. I. Joes think they're doing, but their demon cyborg is no match for us."



New York, May 2005

The conference room was expensively appointed and perfectly clean. The polished table was surrounded by a dozen chairs, and all but one were occupied by men and women in business attire. The room was silent until someone's cell phone rang.

"Parker here," said the owner of the phone. It was a young man who sat with his back to the door. "No, it hasn't started yet... if the Barracuda ever gets here--"

A manicured finger tapped Parker on the shoulder. He spun around, looking up at five feet of professionally dressed, perfectly coifed blond executive. He gulped.

"Gotta go," he said into the phone, as the blond tugged it out of his grasp.

Smiling sweetly, she held the phone between her two hands and crushed it into mere fragments of silicon and metal. These she deposited on the conference table, on top of Parker's notepad. "You're lucky I consider Barracuda a compliment," she said.

Buffy Summers, the youngest VP in the firm's history, marched to the seat at the head of the table. She gave her executives that sweet smile -- the one with all the teeth behind it -- and called the meeting to order.

"Now. Our sales for the last quarter are down by four percent. We were expecting an increase of ten percent, so that's a significant gap." Buffy looked around, meeting each person's eyes in turn. "You have six weeks to close that gap." She started at the far end of the table, planning to work her way up. "Ms. Williams. Tell me how you're going to make that happen."