An American Slayer In London

TITLE: An American Slayer In London

CHAPTER: One

AUTHOR: Zephyr

DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, Joss Weadon, their various publishers and production companies, which together are too numerous to name. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

RATING: R

PAIRING: Faith/Lucius

SUMMARY: Faith has been searching for something. Will she find it in what Lucius Malfoy has to offer?

A/N: For GrrArrg. Finally and I am so glad your muse has returned!!! Now gimme new chapters of 'Sympathy' and 'TlC'!!!!! Thank you to Irene for betaing my first foray into Buffy Crossovers.

Faith zipped up her leather coat against the cold November wind that whipped through the streets of London. For the first time, Faith felt as if she belonged somewhere, like this city was meant to be her home. For two years, after Sunnydale became nothing more than a crater in the ground, Faith traveled the United States listlessly. She was searching for something. She still wasn't sure of what that something was, but in London, she felt closer to it.

Faith looked up the road for a pub, thinking how nice rum would feel against the bitter chill of the autumn cold snap. Just as she looked up an old, grimy sign swung silently on rusty hinges proclaiming the entrance to a pub, 'The Leaky Cauldron'. Just the kind of place she was looking for; a long-forgotten hole in the wall that watered their booze and a body could sit for hours swilling their drink as they watched the world pass by.

Faith pushed the door open and looked around the pub warily. Even two years of relative retirement didn't dampen her first instinct to size up any room for potential threats. Here, however, all she was greeted with was a group of stares bordering on hostility form several oddly dressed patrons, the rest of the clientele seemed to be quite happy to ignore her. Perfect. Faith stepped up to the scarred bar and only had to wait a moment for the elderly barkeep to acknowledge her presence.

"Can I help you, miss?"

"Dark Rum, straight up."

"Yes, miss," said the man with a slightly raised eyebrow.

A few moments later a stout rocks glass was pushed in front of her filled with three fingers of dark amber liquid. Faith savored the sweet burn of the alcohol as she tossed back half the glass. She turned to lean back against the bar to observe the rest of the tavern and was surprised to find that half the oddly dressed patrons were openly staring at her. She rolled her eyes and turned around again.

"Is everyone here this rude?" Faith inquired to no one in particular and was surprised when her idle question was answered by a quiet cultured voice.

"Let's just say that the good patrons don't see many of your kind here."

Faith turned slowly to face the stranger who had sidled up to her. "My kind?"

"Muggle."

Faith looked up into eyes that were nearly as empty as she knew hers to be. "And a Muggle would be?" she asked the tall blond haired man beside her.

"A person who has no magic," the man replied.

Faith got the feeling that she was supposed to feel offended by this but after hearing about the trouble that Willow went through with her magic, she knew she wanted no part of that. Being a slayer was trouble enough, thank you. "And this is supposed to bother me?"

"Lucius, leave the girl be," a shorter heavyset man advised.

Faith swallowed the remainder of her drink and stared the man down. "Yeah Lucy, you might better listen to your friend there." Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the heavyset man wince. She was itching for a fight and this high-class asshole was going to provide it. Peachy.

He made the move she had been waiting for, a long arm reach into his big black coat. Faith whirled around and dropped the man to the dirty, grimy floor with a sweep to the knees. Her hand flashed to her boot as she straddled him. With a flash, her knife was at the man's throat. She leaned in close to the man. Her nose nearly touching his as she spoke in a low, dark voice.

"Since I was fifteen, I've been killing Big Bads, bigger and badder than you. So, a little advice buddy— don't fuck with me." Faith pushed the knife a little deeper into his neck before stepping off and away from him, grinning morbidly when she saw a small trickle of blood well in the small wound on his pale skin. She tossed a twenty pound-note on the bar.

"Keep the change," she called as she stepped over the man she dropped to the floorboards and walked out of the pub without looking back.

Lucius sat still while Avery healed the nick on his throat then helped him off the floor, but when Lucius made for the door to follow the girl, a heavy hand on his arm stopped him. He whirled around and confronted the smaller man.

"She's getting away, Avery!" he growled furiously, his face a mask of fury, ready to kill.

"And you, Lucius, are attracting unwanted attention."

Lucius closed his eyes for a moment and squashed down his temper. He glared around the pub and many an eye turned away. "Fine. Let's go." He turned on his heel and led the way in the opposite direction toward the Diagon Alley apparition point.

Moments later he was in his own study pouring a brandy and pacing before the roaring fire as Avery made himself at home with Lucius's reserve of 50-year-old Firewhiskey.

"You know Lucius, I don't believe that girl was 'just' a muggle. She found the Cauldron after all and," he paused as if not sure how to continue, "there was an aura of power about her." Avery's eyes looked pensive as if he was trying to unravel the mystery of the girl. "I know that muggles sometimes wander into the pub but this girl was different. Mark my words Lucius, there is more to that girl that meets the eye and I don't believe we have seen the last of her."

"Dabbling in divination a bit now, Avery?" Lucius said with all the contempt he could muster.

"Lucius, ever the hypocrite," Avery said nonchalantly, "You know you felt it, too."

"Be that as it may, she's a filthy Muggle."

Lucius turned his back and stared into the fire. He couldn't deny it. The small woman who unceremoniously knocked him on his arse caught his attention, not only his mind but other regions a bit lower, as well. He touched the spot on his neck where she cut him then his eyes widened.

"Blood," Lucius whispered with the dawning of realization then he whirled to face his friend once more, "I can find her, Avery."

Faith wrapped a towel around her head and another around her body. As soon as her hand touched the handle of the bathroom door she felt uneasy. Something was wrong. She felt even worse when she realized that her knife and every stake she owned were in the other room. When did she become so lax? There was a time when she would never have been caught with out some kind of weapon.

With a bravado she really didn't feel, Faith opened the door and walked out as if nothing was wrong and found herself flung unceremoniously on the bed. Before she could get up her torso was straddled by a set of muscular thighs and a heavy hand was pressed over her mouth.

"Not so feisty now, are you?"

Faith opened her eyes and looked into piercing grey. It was the asshole from the pub. How, in the name of the Hellmouth, did he find her? For the moment she was content to let him believe that he was in control. She was more than sure that she could fight him off if she needed to.

Lucius looked down at the petite young woman and for the first time looked at her with more than his eyes and felt something different about her. She had a strength that he couldn't account for. In a flash he knew that she could do him serious harm if she wished and there wouldn't much he could do about it because slinging hexes didn't work well in close quarters fights.

"What are you?" he asked softly taking his hand from her mouth and placed it on her wrist lightly.

"I'm a slayer," she answered simply offering no further information.

Slayer? Lucius couldn't fathom why the term sounded familiar to him. He tried to wrack his brain for the information. Buggeritall. Voldemort warned them that the slayer was coming, but he made the slayer sound like a behemoth, not some little slip of a girl.

Later she wouldn't beable to tell why she did it, but she did the unexpected. She slipped a hand over his shoulder to the back of his neck and pulled him down to her lips, capturing his mouth in a passionate kiss. A moment later he was lying on his back and had a hand other than his own on his throat.

"Now I have a few questions of my own, buddy." Her dark brown eyes bored into his and she settled a bit of pressure on his windpipe. "Who are you? How did you find me?"

"Old magic. You spilled my blood and it allowed me to track you," his voice was hoarse and his face was turning a bit purple from lack of air. Faith eased off again, now that it seemed that he was going to answer her questions. She could feel the magic under his skin, much like how Willow's felt just before or just after performing some major mojo.

Not willing to take any chances, Faith began to frisk the man beneath her and only came up with a stick with a kind of a handle and a few odd looking coins. Her hand brushed the inside of his left arm and she felt something evil brush her fingers. It was seeking her out, pulling at the darkness that existed inside her. She stepped quickly away from him and put her hand on the table to steady her weak knees. She turned her body a little to the side to hide the movement of her hand as it curled over the hilt of her knife.

"What are you?" Faith asked repeating the man's question back to him.

"I am a wizard," he drawled almost lazily.

'Fuck and double fuck,' she thought furiously. She was so not equipped for a fight that included magic. She was about to get her ass royally kicked.

"Look Buddy, I'm sorry about earlier in the pub but I was looking for a fight and you seemed happy to oblige. No harm, no foul… right?"

A/N: There is chapter 1 if people seem to like it this will become a longer multichapter fic (Yes, I hear the squee's now, from GrrArrg). Please R&R.


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