While You Were Sleeping
by Kelly Smith
Rating: NC-17
Faith tried to take a deep, steadying breath for what felt like the thousandth time that night. Everything within her keened to hear the alluring call of sunset. Each of her senses individually heightened, the electricity already offering her the comfort of the buzz that was creeping enticingly along each of her limbs. Awakening the slayer.
And then there was the flip side. The place that wasn't finding comfort in anything which offered a reminder of the past. The place that had dictated she spend all of the evening pounding furious punches into a lifeless dummy just to keep some sort of focus. Some sense of control.
Really so easy to remember how it used to be. How it still was if she closed her eyes long enough.
Not what she wanted. Trying to smash through the darkness with a look towards light:
Everything was different here. Life was different here.
For so many nights now, Faith had found herself re-examining her stagnant view of existence through a new kind of microscope. A soul filled vampire always ready to counter-argue anything which stank too much like bullshit - always ready to put her back on the path when she felt like she wanted to stray…
"So what's the point? I can't change what I did - you said yourself that it never stops hurting - so what's the fucking point?! It'd be easier for everyone if I just gave up."
"You take it one day at a time, Faith. It isn't ever easy, it's not supposed to be easy, you can never take back the things that you've done. But you keep trying; every single minute you try to be a better person. You work hard, you take the pain - then one day, without even realising it, you find yourself living again. You can look in the mirror and face who you are."
"And that's redemption?"
"That's redemption."
"Shit dude. Guess you're totally screwed then."
And she had ridden him hard for his lack of living, for his total inability to ever study his own reflection; but deeper than that, she had listened to his words. She hadn't meant to, it was one of those nights when her fury had raged until sunrise, where all that she truly wanted to do, was to stop his endless assault of truth seeking missiles with a sharp slice of wood to the heart.
"Everyone else is ready to forgive you, Faith, why aren't you ready to face up to what you've done?"
"Screw you, deadhead. I am facing up. I've fucking relived Sunnydale so many times, I might as well still be there."
"And Buffy?"
Fuck off.
It had been a rage filled night. Not knowing why he was digging so intently - what the fucking obsession was with wanting to talk about Buffy. And then she had understood. Faith had been telling Angel with an ever increasing steadiness that she wanted to change, that the darkness had had its pound of flesh and she was ready for the good times again. To be good again. A bit. As much as she could be. But still she couldn't face the confusion of talking about Buffy. She could talk around Buffy with the expertise of a well versed Traffic Cop - short blonde ahead? Just follow the diversions. But to touch the feeling? To even consider the feeling in daylight?
She wasn't ready to face the pain. She wasn't ready for redemption. She wouldn't be ready to live again until she had faced up to everything. To everyone. Maybe. Still not sure how that one would work. Whether bagels would be enough to stop her wanting to rip Buffy's head from her shoulders. To rip the clothes from her body.
The thoughts still so fucking confusing.
At least Angel hadn't dressed it up though. That had been what had forced her to listen. Forced her to feel the words. There wasn't any bullshit there; no pretending that she could skip her way gaily back from insanity with barely a backwards glance. Without witnessing the carnage that she herself had caused. No. He had told her that she would have to live with the pain. But then - at least he had told her that she could live.
It was a new view. Accepting that she would always feel those same feelings inside, but fighting at last to silence them. To quiet the demon voices that called out to her with the taunting tones of endless torment, that followed her through every single day to remind her of who she was. What she was.
She was bad. She was evil. She was a killer.
All that Faith really wanted now, was to be different. To do like Angel had said and maybe one day look into a mirror and not be disgusted by the person that she saw looking back. By the things that she had done. Had enjoyed doing.
Making her sick with the nervousness now; silently studying the clock and waiting for Angel to come get her. Not sure exactly what the plan was, where exactly she was going; just knowing that tonight was the night. Tonight she would slay again. For real. No boundaries of Angel's gym to keep the insanity at bay, nothing but her and the power she remembered so well. Everything about being a slayer remembered so well. Never able to hide how it had made her feel; the fighting. The hormones that could never be harnessed after she had driven a stake through the centre of all evil, how her limbs would sing with such sweet anticipation until she gave them the release that they desired. Such deep down fucking lust. Riding it from her body hard. Everything ridden hard. But deeper than that. Harder than that. A whole lot fucking darker than that:
Touching death. That was where the real power lay. Holding the very threads of existence in the palm of her hand, being the one with the ultimate control, the final say so over living and dying. Provoking the worst kind of feeling - awakening all of those nasty desires; making her believe that she really was all sorts of invincible.
No one could touch her.
And Faith still didn't know if she was strong enough to fight the feeling. If she could be good enough to stop being bad. Sure - she had the words of the other souled vampire to keep her head pointed in the right direction, but even then, his words had only added to the other confusion:
"I touched more evil than your pretty mind could ever dream up - I was the Big Bad that all other bads were scared of."
Almost wanting to smile past the severity of his words when she had witnessed the way that he postured. Striking a pose. Eventually making her chuckle.
"You didn't have a soul then Spike - it doesn't count."
"You think it's different now, slayer? You think I don't still crave a little of that feeling? Truth is, once you've touched it, you never wanna let go. You never stop wanting it."
"So what happened? Why don't you go grab the darkness?"
"Fell in love with a girl."
And that was that. Knowing that he thought he was telling a tale for both of them, showing her how it was. And her, Faith, still so unsure of anything. She had been doing well with the Buffy stuff, doing everything to distance herself from the feeling; to focus only on the other things that she had to think about if she was to take a different path. But now - with slaying - how the hell was she meant to forget?
Something so fucking sublime in the way that her skin had glistened with the flush of exhilaration whenever they had fought side by side - heart thumping, blood racing - every single bit as intense as when they had fought face to face. Always so much to feel. Too much to feel.
It had brought out her bad side. Needing to defile the feeling before it could take a deeper hold. Needing to fight off anything that had felt like vulnerability.
It was tempting her bad side now. She felt vulnerable now.
Scared of who she was. Who she might be. Still wishing that she could turn back the clock to that time before she had ever met Buffy; when it was simply about good over evil. When she didn't know enough to know that she had only ever been destined to be second best.
The slow sliding sound of the elevator arriving, stunned Faith's thoughts back into the present. Her eyes focusing again on the face of the clock, her feet looking to stand with an urgency that she was sure she wasn't feeling.
This was it. A meeting with destiny.
Holding out her hand as Angel armed her again with a stake, remembering how to breathe as his words broke through the silence:
"It's time, Faith."
Time to meet her maker.
The plans that had been made on the strength of Xander's information had not been made alone; Buffy had relied upon the bond that had grown between herself and the girls to unite each of them in the quest to regain Faith. Telling Kennedy first because she needed to talk it through, and then Kennedy insisting that the girls were in. That there was no freaking way that Buffy was going out to face god knows what, all on her own. And Buffy had remembered imploring them not to be alone; now she was reaping the full flush of benefits. Leading an educational fieldtrip into why slayers should never date in the workplace.
Giles would be proud. If he knew. Which he didn't.
He would have approved of her stealth though, that she was sure of. The way that they had run an extensive sweep of the area the night before, the way that she had personally checked every damn vantage point until she had been sure that she could see every single inch of the cemetery. And tonight; the way that they had arrived so early, had crept so expertly into place, everyone working on the agreement that this was Buffy's show. No one was to do anything unless it came from her. Even Kennedy accepting the rules. Understanding what kind of a quest they were on. Settling herself just one branch away, up overhead, surrounded by foliage.
It was something that had made Buffy smile - that this brash, loudmouthed, annoying wiseass could be sat up in a tree in the middle of the night, just to offer help. To cover her back. It was a friendship that was developing beneath the slayer bond - someone she could talk to about the way that she felt. Someone who understood when she hoped that Willow would have been the one to understand.
And Kennedy had never blushed when they talked about sex stuff:
"I bet you're just dying to do the low down slip and slide with her…"
"Hold up Kennedy; for one that's naughty talk, and we never do naughty talk straight after slaying. And two; I wouldn't know how to slip and slide even if I wanted to - I mean honestly, what the hell do you do?"
"No way! You never grilled Willow on this? You've never even watched the adult channel?"
"No. And absolutely no. I wouldn't have the first clue which bits were for slipping and which bits were for sliding…"
"As long as it's wet, you can't go wrong."
So very informative.
It had urged her into thinking about possibilities. It had heightened her senses in all of the wrong places when she should have been focusing only on the air that shifted around her. Almost missing Faith's arrival. The moment when the rasping tones that only spoke to her now in the softness of dreams, had finally split the silence of her vigil. Sensing the sudden steadiness of the girls all around her - knowing that everyone was focused on what would happen next.
And Buffy had re-found her focus too. Fixing her eyes, maybe losing the focus further. Really so hard to think about trivialities such as air, when Faith was only the shortest distance away.
Buffy had certainly lost her breath.
Like a sucker punch to the solar plexus the moment when she had first caught sight. That same old cocky strut, the same look of deep-down empowered indifference; like she didn't need to take any notice because she already knew everything that there was to know. Buffy recognised that cover, remembered enough to look beneath it, to search out the nervous laughter that ended every sentence; to feel her heart ache as she realised inherently that Faith was scared. She had seen Faith scared before. The very first time that she'd met her, Faith had been scared.
Buffy wanted to go to her then. Wanted to shirk all of the words about patience and time and drop right down at her feet - maybe remind her again that they were a team; that regardless of anything, she still had her back covered. Faith didn't need to be scared. Not of anything anymore.
Not allowed to do that though. Buffy had instead been forced to feel a pang of a different kind as Angel had appeared at Faith's side; talking his steady words, reaching out to place a calming hand upon her shoulder. And he was good with her. Even through the hazy green of sudden jealousy, Buffy could see and accept that he was good with her. Letting go of her breath as Faith had sucked in a lungful:
"So what time do the old folks like to party?"
"This isn't a party, Faith."
"Only if you're doing it wrong."
All hell breaking loose as if that had been the cue that evil was waiting on. Or at least someone's dearly departed grandparents, who right then looked like they should most definitely be residing somewhere close to hell. A him and a her. Matching waxy complexions. Matching looks of hunger. Their mouths growling loud as they advanced purposefully upon the power poised Faith - her fight stance affected - her mouth drawn back in a smile that offered a lifetime of delight.
And far up in the branches, somewhere much closer to heaven, Buffy had also found her smile again as she witnessed Faith's return. Lost in the moment, lost in the memory. The feeling that was so much more intrinsic than anything that could ever be called a slayer bond; the very thing that she had insisted to Xander was love. That she knew was love. Holding her back now from racing forward and joining in the fight. Just sitting expertly up on her branch. High enough not to bring gazes; to watch without being watched. To recognise all that she was being shown:
Because something here was different… this was all different. A different girl to the one that they had kept locked in a cage. A different person to the one who had raged so furious and futile against the bars of her imprisonment. Hearing instead her howls of success. Studying the face of her laughter as she reduced to dust the final vampire from the very morbid couple. The turn. The high five. The happiness.
And it was enough.
Buffy's heart would still break on the silent goodbye; but for now she knew - she felt - that this was good enough. To see Faith smiling was everything. It was what she had said to Xander - that had been her definition of love.
A tear threatening to form in her eye even as Kennedy whispered down to draw her sight to the straggling vampire that was encroaching on the space right below them; passing directly underneath, looking to stalk his way slowly towards Angel and Faith. Their backs turned. Focus distracted by the still strong Boston drawl that was cheering on their victory. And Buffy could feel what was happening before she saw it. Her eyes darting upwards… the movement above her. The crossbow pointing through leaves…
…the movement in front of her. Instinctively knowing that Faith was drawing her stake. Ready. Waiting. Playing the vampire. Whispered words not quick enough…
"Kennedy, wait!"
The soft thwack of the arrow beginning its flight. Faith's sudden turn. The instant of impact. Confusion so obvious through the cloud of settling dust.
"What the fuck?!"
Brown eyes beginning the quickest scan ever of the area all around. And Buffy held tight - tensing - knowing that the pounding in her chest was likely to give them all away at any moment. The moment. Faith's gaze following the moonlight to peer into all of the secretive spaces - her mouth forming the silent question of `B?', as Buffy threw off her cover to drop down from the branches.
"Faith."
Not sure if she was expecting a greeting in return, just sure that she wasn't expecting the same sudden sneer; the way the air instantly cooled as Faith tore her gaze back towards Angel.
"You set me up? This is all a fucking set-up!?"
"No Faith - I had no idea that she would be here."
"Right, that's why you've been banging on the Buffy box so hard all fucking week. I should've known - every fucking time and I still fucking fall for it…"
Buffy caught Angel's accusing glare, watched the way that Faith stepped up to face off against him - and she could almost live with that. That little unfriendly place called jealousy, insisting that watching a division form between the pair in front of her, was not all bad. There were positives…
But no. She had remembered love when she'd seen Faith's smile, and she refused to lose that feeling so quickly. Not prepared to settle for just a fleeting glance. Stepping forward - clearing her voice to make sound. To maybe break the tension.
"Wait Faith, it wasn't Angel, he didn't know anything about this."
"You expect me to believe that? You think I don't see what this is? Fuck, you just always gotta keep the control."
"No. I wanted to see you before I left. You do know that I`m leaving, right?"
Just two sentences allowed before Angel found his way to block the space right in front of her. Blocking her light. Blocking her sight.
"What the hell do you think you're doing here, Buffy? Do you realise how reckless you're being? Did you even stop to think for a moment about anyone other than yourself?"
His tone forcing her back. The absolute aggression that had sprung into his words as a defensive wall for Faith, making her wonder if there would be punches; if he was willing to push that far to prevent her from having the moment that she had come there needing. And she hoped not; had been prepared to walk away just a moment ago - but not now - not now that she had met the gaze again. Had seen the snarl. Finding an aggressive stance to match Angel's harsh tone… ready to fight if that's what it took.
Forgetting that her back was covered.
The soft sudden whoosh surprising Buffy, as the remaining slayers on the fieldtrip dropped down from their covers. The instant hum surrounding her as they sought to even up numbers, as they looked to protect one of their own.
"Yo, you wanna back off, vamp?"
Kennedy the one who of course found confrontation the fastest; maybe still juiced from the sharp slay of her crossbow; glad to still be closing in on the sniff of more prey. Her arm still itching to get in a fight. Buffy sensed it as easy as she sensed the prickle that was urging her own arm into working - instincts still confused by nature.
Angel - vampire. It was always there somewhere.
Stepping up now to prevent catastrophe. Trying to remember that all of this had been about seeing Faith. About getting her to listen for maybe half a second to any of the number of things that she wanted to say. To at least, possibly, if Buffy held onto her greatest hope, have Faith saying that one day, no matter if it was still real far away, she would be ready to talk. To listen. To build the bridges.
"Kennedy, back down. Angel's just a little bit excitable, I think it's a territorial- "
"Damn…" The heavy tones reaching up to silence her instantly. "…guess these are your new bitches, B. You sure got`em trained good."
Not able to find words that could answer Faith's sarcastic taunting. Not needing to. The reassuring hum from Kennedy, threatening to turn into something a lot more dangerous as she rounded to offer a look. A tightly whispered -"Are you frickin' kidding me?"
Letting all of her well rehearsed attitude spin her back Faith's way. Getting up in her face. "You'd better start watching your mouth, unless you wanted me to make you my bitch?"
The glare settling tight. Nothing making Buffy think that anything positive was coming from the night. Angel's slow step forward only confirming the fact. And even now, barely an inch away from touching Faith, and still there were more barriers. Just one more thing to keep her away. His hand soft on her shoulder again, her breathing instantly looking to calm.
"Come on Faith, we're leaving."
And no! No, no, no, no, NO!!
Buffy's heart constricting. Her throat constricting. Yet again everything turning into the same old fucked up disaster; not even just this once allowed for something to be anything different, to make a choice and have fate close its eyes and bless her. Grabbing so hard for her mantra and remembering again how many times she had risen from the ashes, how many times she had made that crawl from the grave, how many times she had managed to reverse the odds.
"Wait, Faith - please, can we just talk?"
Sounding so pathetic, so everything that she had promised herself she wouldn't be. She would be strong. She would be brave. She would find a sneer herself as Angel looked to answer her words.
"Now's not the time, Buffy."
His arm sliding tighter around Faith. Not letting Buffy see the look in her eyes, not letting her listen to anything that Faith may have been thinking to say. Just walking away. Again. Just faced by her back. Again. And she may have found a silent sob; may have finally broken down once and for all in front of the army that destiny had decided to charge her with leading - but she didn't. Kennedy sidling up to her to ward off thoughts of tears, words whispered again under a cloaked offer of hope…
"You're so gonna owe me for this if it hurts."
A wink. A look of such complete mischievousness that Buffy was sure she should be feeling the first flow of worry.
"Kennedy?"
"Just listen…" Her voice rising to encompass all of her audience; all of the early leavers…
"…Yeah, you never said that she was a coward though, Buffy. Guess she likes being the vampire's bitch."
Oh yes.
And maybe the night wasn't going to be over quite so early.
Faith's footsteps instantly halting. Her harsh words spoken on the turn.
"You wanna throw down, little girl?" All of it a warning. All of it looking to remember the dark and nasty. "Any special places that you want me to touch?"
The maliciousness winding tight around the deep seductive tone. An offer to get physical. And again, for Buffy, it was enough.
"I think that's all the help I need Kennedy. I want to talk to Faith alone. Can you make sure that Angel gets home okay?"
"Wait, you can stop right there. This has already gone on too long. There's no way that I'm leaving you alone with Faith, you have no idea what-"
"I wasn't asking you to leave. Girls - make sure he gets home okay."
Her commanding tone choosing that time to re-find everything inside that sounded like strength, everything that made destiny sleep well at night knowing that the world had been placed in good hands. The slayers stepping up to surround Angel; to cut him off from something that to them had nothing more to do with him. Rona taking her turn to find front and centre.
"This is slayer business now; you can either leave the easy way or the hard way. Makes no real difference to us."
Vi releasing her quirky smile to try and soften all of the hostility that sat heavy in the air. "Yeah, you may be letting us stay rent free in your hotel, but we've got wood mister…, uh… Mister Angel, and we're not afraid to use it."
His eyes never softening as he had weighed up the odds. His tone brutal as he finally turned to address Buffy again.
"You're acting like nothing but a stupid, selfish schoolgirl - you'd better hope that nothing happens to her…"
Too intent on watching Faith, to even think about offering Angel an answer. Faith's gaze also fixing. Like maybe she was accepting that now was the time. That facing up, had to start somewhere. Like maybe with facing off.
Hearing Angel's final words as he was being led away.
"Just stay calm, Faith."
"It's okay, Angel. I got this."
And silence. And now. And how?
Knowing inside that she had to wait for Faith to make the first move; that yes, she herself may have instigated the show - but from here on in it was Faith's show to run. The only one that could set the pace. Who could smash the opening volley.
"Still can't get the message, B - you want me to be bad again?"
Everything offered inside those so few words. Anger. Hurt. Betrayal. Buffy caught and carried every emotion, tried her best to return them with something that meant anything. A soft lob that would maybe land without obstruction.
"I never wanted you to be bad."
Not a chance.
"Jesus! Wasn't it enough to lock me in a cage, wasn't it enough to stick a god damned knife in my gut? When have I been punished enough by you? When the fuck will you leave me alone?!"
"I'm not punishing you…"
The fist telegraphed a mile away. Still able to land though, still able to cut a swathe through Buffy's words and throw her from her path. Stopping the flow. Her mouth closed on impact to hear the venomous outpouring of Faith's accusations.
"You hound me in my sleep! You fucking hound me when I'm awake - what do I have to do, B?" A kick sailing viciously close to places that she wanted to protect. "Who do I have to kill to make you hate me again?"
As if Faith instinctively knew how to inflict the most damage. As if she thought that the words which carried the same twisted message as the past would be enough to get things moving. Not expecting the lessons that had been gained from four years not sleeping. Buffy smiling to cover the wince, finding soft words to counteract the pain…
"I can't hate you anymore. I told you already…"
Not allowing the cry to break free as Faith struck out again. Not stopping the plea for sanity as she looked to raise her hands in protection. "You don't have to do this."
"Just shut the fuck up! Fight me!"
Blows gaining speed. Everything shutting off except for the steady rhythm of attack; a kick, a punch. Faith's scream of frustration as Buffy held herself back from anything that felt like retaliation. Just holding her ground. Deflecting the words.
"I said fucking fight me!"
"I'm not doing this Faith."
"No? Thought I heard you liked it rough." A snarl smashing her smile. Another kick landed. "Heard you liked it real fucking nasty."
Thrown onto her back and hitting a gravestone; not able to not cry out. To not feel dazed. One second where the warrior within, refused absolutely to take a one sided beating. Her own leg kicking out; smashing hard into soft flesh. Bringing a surprised shout of pain. A drawn out look of absolute satisfaction.
"Now that's more like it B. That's what I've been missing."
Shaking off the hit to stand ready for more. Faith's taunting words searching to find targets that would provoke more of the fisted responses - and Buffy kept on swallowing. Kept on defending. Her parries becoming more and more useless as Faith took her anger to an uncontrollable level. Such bare naked rage in everything that was being said…
"You fucking want this, you always wanted this! You need me to be bad, you fucking need me to be bad!"
…the force of the words pushing her back. Finding shelter under the tree that had been her earlier sanctuary; not finding comfort in the way that the bark scratched rough through her top. By the way the low branches stopped her hands from protecting her head from the hits to soft places. Feeling the one that broke her lip, that put blood across her mouth.
And the hand. So slender around her neck again. Nothing coming close to feeling this forceful in the basement. Those brown eyes penetrating her now with such intensity, such heat from the battle, that Buffy believed she would burn up in an instant. Holding her breath as the tones hit nasty again, as the face edged slowly in. Just a hairs breadth from her lips. An inch from losing her life.
"Is this what I have to do, B? Is this what it takes to make you hate me?"
So hate filled. So hurt filled. The gaze wide-eyed and panicked. The grip tightening hard around her throat…
"Faith?"
And connection.
Smashing apart anything and everything that stood in its way. The savagery of Faith's lips crashing through the surprise that would have brokered resistance; just yielding. A kiss filled with fury. Not knowing where it had come from - if this was the act that was to make her hate Faith - not caring. Swept up by the rawness of teeth bruising hard where punches had landed. The hands leaving her throat to find arms. Pinning her up, pinning her back.
And she gave up control.
Buffy had decided long before she had arrived this evening, that this would go the way that Faith wanted - postcards, a letter at Christmas; whatever or whenever… however Faith wanted. Letting her invade her mouth with the tongue that had hurled abuse so degrading… really not caring. Arching her neck as the touch was dragged to spark passion across her pulse point. Needing to breathe. To find footing.
"Faith?"
Hard breaths. Harsh breaths.
Eyes meeting again. And in the moment that her hands were released, she let them find Faith. Let them cling to Faith. Dragging them through hair to bring lips back to hers; not surrendering this time. Insisting with the softness she was offering that this didn't have to be so hard. It didn't have to be about hating. Her body relaxing into the kiss as she felt Faith responding… exploring now. A whimper now. The slightest of struggles as her arms were pulled away again… as a thigh slipped so deft between legs…
…a nervous rhythm. Not able not to speak. Not able not to break the moment…
"God yes…"
Her prayer of thanks, like a last minute call to all of Faith's demons. The pull back so sudden. The look so lost, so confused, so what the hell was happening now?
And no again.
No!
Already seeing the yes. The panic provoking attack. The warm feel of lips replaced by the cold feel of hate. The final punch. Another end.
Barely moving before Faith was gone. Her shadow already sucked into darkness. Her presence just left in the memory of the kiss.
And what the fuck?! Beating any other what the fuck moment that may have involved best friends and naughty thoughts and all of the shared beds at sleepovers - and really, again, what the fuck?!
Buffy could feel the pain of every blow she had failed to deflect; could taste the small stain of blood that was already looking to cake her bottom lip. But kisses? Where the heck did kisses come into the plan? When had that been decided? Who had decided it?
And how did they make the pain feel better already?
As Buffy took a final look around the unimpressive graveyard that had been the backdrop to a battle that had ended in confusion, the only thing that she knew for sure, was that she was going to be facing all sorts of hell. That this outcome was going to be viewed as the worst thing that could have happened; Faith made mad and then made free. And she knew that she would be collecting all of the blame. All of the consequences.
Still able to smile though as she readied herself to pass through hell on the pathway to heaven. Because Faith had kissed her; Buffy had decided. Not the other way around. Not her begging for scraps from the table that had been closed off to visitors. It had been all about Faith. And Buffy would find her now - damn it - she would find her, tie her up and wash out her ears if she had to. But regardless of who stood in her way, of what level of hell she would have to endure to get to where she was going; Faith was going to listen to what she had to say. She was going to have to hear why it wasn't about hate. Why it could never be about hate, no matter how confusing. And she would absolutely hear why Buffy had pulled her back in for that second kiss, when the first had only been given to stoke something like disgust.
A cover.
A place for Faith to hide.
With the passion that had relaxed and reciprocated when the world had finally sat softer, Buffy believed that she now knew what it was that Faith was afraid of. What it was that she was hiding from.
Vowing to not let her hide anymore.
The ache of anticipation sat heavy in the air when Buffy finally heaved open the doors to The Hyperion. For more than an hour she had stood motionless beneath the swaying branches of the tree that had offered enlightenment, and for more than an hour she had dared herself to start taking the baby steps back towards the hell of her own making. Now, with the forthright glares that were looking to welcome her home and maybe roast her on the spot, she silently wished that foliage was still an option. The watchful eyes feeling far too intrusive… looking a little too closely at the limp in her step, at the graze across her lips.
And she tried to ignore them. Found her own eyes darting out to look for the support of the slayers; her feet already leading her towards taking direction, her mouth trying desperately to find a smile that wouldn't bring further strain to the stinging of her lips.
"Guys, everything go okay with Angel?"
All about the perky. Catching Kennedy's return look and knowing, just knowing, that everything was not okay. That she had expected the hell and she was going to catch it.
"Buffy, perhaps you could try explaining to me exactly what's gone on this evening?"
"Oh, Giles, didn't see you there. You're up late…"
"Because so far, the way that I have been told, it seems as though you went against everything that was said to you. Not only did you blatantly discard all of the reasoning, you also sought to include the other slayers in your deceptive little soiree."
"My little what?"
"Don't play dumb with me, you know full well what I'm alluding to; judging by the look of you, I take it that it's safe to assume things went precisely the way we expected?"
Uh - no. Or yes. For the most part maybe. Buffy knew that her bruises advertised the fact that there was confrontation involved in her soiree of deceptiveness, but she also knew that there was no way for Giles to guess at the conclusion to the confrontation. He couldn't feel the way that her lips still felt, he had no chance of understanding how fast her heart still beat.
And could she tell him? Would she tell him?
Saved from the moment by the interruption of her new best friend, by the person who seemed to have taken watching her back to a whole new level.
"Hold off on the attack, Giles. It wasn't just Buffy's call, all of us agreed with her."
"That may be so Kennedy, but it's Buffy that I expect to know better. The deception in itself is bad enough, but the way that she sought to dismiss Angel? It's outright bloody ridiculous."
"Well maybe if you weren't both so eager to ignore me, I wouldn't have had to deceive you. You know how much I needed to see Faith."
"And what about what Faith needs? It seems to me that in amongst all of your own desires, you've readily lost sight of hers. Angel made it quite clear that she isn't ready to face you yet. I imagined you would've at least been able to show some respect for his opinion."
"And if his opinion is wrong?"
Because Buffy believed inherently that it was. That Angel had no idea of how badly things still burnt between her and Faith - how deeply the rivers still ran. "This is my life Giles, and I'll be damned before I sit back and let everyone else direct it. You were wrong the last time you chose to ignore me, and you're wrong this time."
"Sure Buffy, that's why you're wearing all those psycho-sized bruises, right?"
Willow.
Buffy had wondered how long it would take before the single pronged attack grew another prong. The arms folded tight across her chest, the face resolving to show nothing but distaste. And that mouth, that sweet and pretty little mouth doing nothing except adding more of the acid to all of the things that had already been said.
"I guess you'll just never learn, huh? Faith's evil Buffy, she does evil things - and that's not just some wacky opinion, it's a statement of fact. Look at what she's done to you… she's hurt you again. Are we just supposed to ignore this too?"
And how did she counter that? What damning words could Buffy choose to use that would deflect and deflate everything that Willow was seeking to say?
She didn't know. There was no defence that could prove Faith wasn't evil; she had done evil things… lots of evil things; but those were the ways of the past. Even tonight, with Buffy prone beneath her and absolutely willing to accept her direction… what had Faith done?
"She kissed me."
Confirmed. Made fact. Something that couldn't be ignored.
Something that now dropped everyone's jaw. Not just Willow's, not just Giles'… everybody's. Kennedy's eyes as wide as her girlfriend's; all of the slayers caught seemingly in headlights.
"You what?"
Yet Willow the one who still wanted the stage.
"She kissed me. I kissed her. Not a hint of evil involved."
"You better tell me you're kidding… you didn't kiss her. You would never kiss Faith."
"Would, could and did. Enjoyed every second of it."
And somehow the room had found a way to shrink. The stage spinning to include only the two. Everyone else reduced only to audience.
"Could you get more twisted? What did you do Buffy - get her to beat you first, just to get the juices flowing?"
"You really wanna do this?"
"Do what - dissect your need to sleep with the dregs? I guess there are some core issues that need addressing, but with the way that you've been acting lately-"
"Me! The way that I've been acting? Give me a break Will, you're the one that's gone all green-eyed monster, you're the one who needs to get a grip on the core issue."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"What do you think it means?"
The question dangling in the air and amplified by the silence. Buffy's eyes grandstanding intense as she dared Willow to lay it all out on the line. As she dared her to take the twisted words of accusation and turn them back on herself. "Got nothing to say, Will?"
Letting her know. Showing her that she knew how deep the core issue really went - that sure, it may have taken her a whole lotta years to get a handle on all of the dynamics; but she was there now. She understood now.
No reply forthcoming.
Just eyes that seemed to doubt and then to wither. A mouth that went to speak and then stayed silent.
And Buffy turned away. Left Kennedy to be the one who shot a glare across to Willow. Instead focusing her attention back on Giles; waiting for the torrent of dismay that she was sure she'd now be facing.
"What about you, Giles? You wanna wade in with a few watcherly words on how messed up I am?"
"I… quite frankly Buffy, I don't know what you expect me to say."
"What do I expect…? Well, support would be nice, maybe a little understanding. Heck, it's not like the whole world's gonna end just because I kissed Faith."
"No, I rather suspect that it isn't. Though I do have to say that a situation where you and Faith were… kissing, well, you must realise that it's a bolt out of the blue? You don't look as though…"
His hands waved in the vague direction of all over her. Pointing out the obvious beating that it looked like she had taken, his eyes offering not only confusion but also concern.
"It's nothing, Giles. We're talking about me and Faith here, and that was never gonna be all sunshine and flowers. We had words - there were punches - and then… well, then there weren't. Or there were, but just the one, and that was totally different."
"Excellent. Glad you managed to clear that up for me. So where is Faith now?"
Oh.
Of course.
Buffy had done well to forget that she still had to divulge how the kissing had led to fleeing and a whole lot of worry about how Faith was reacting. Or coping. Or not coping. Back on the spot now. Able to admit quite easily how lips had travelled to places unexpected, but squirming under the spotlight when she had to find the words to tell the rest of the tale…
"Did I mention that we kissed twice?"
"Buffy, her location please?"
"Right, her location… that's a little on the hazy side at the moment…"
"The hazy side?"
"…I mean, it wasn't like we really talked that much. You know how Faith can be when it comes to talking - all short, sharp and straight to the point. I did want to ask where she was running off to in such a hurry…"
The eyes narrowing on her. And she could see him getting it. Could hear the almost silent sigh that slipped out not unnoticed. Could see the way that he was looking to weigh up the stupidity of her actions.
"Please tell me that you haven't made matters worse? That Faith isn't out there now; god knows where, in god knows what frame of mind, all because you were determined to go gung-ho with your hormones and force forward the issue."
"Hey, she kissed me first! The only issue I was looking to force forward was that I needed to see her."
"That's hardly the point here…"
And she wondered what the point was as he removed the glasses from his head and ran a tired hand through his hair. "…Bloody hell, Buffy. I can only hope that there are going to be no dire consequences to your actions; not only for you, but also for Faith. I suggest you call Angel, he needs to know that she's out there alone, and then we need to be thinking about ways of finding her."
Buffy was completely certain that she didn't need to be regurgitating this conversation to Angel. She was more than sure that it would only lead the way to more of the hell scenario. He was going to be pissed at her - it was one of life's givens.
"How about you call Angel, and me and the girls get going on the finding part?"
"Sounds good to me Buffy, I'm more than ready to get out of here."
Seeing the slayers protecting her periphery; already stepping up again, already willing to take her lead as opposed to anyone else. And she found a smile for them.
"Thanks Ken, guys… I guess we need to saddle up, split into groups… take a walk downtown…"
"That's quite enough. I really don't think that we should proceed with anything until I've managed to speak to Angel. I understand that my opinion isn't worth much around here anymore, but I would urge complete caution when attempting to deal with Faith. You can't dismiss what she's capable of Buffy… you certainly shouldn't be looking to involve the new slayers in such a volatile situation."
"We're involving ourselves. We don't need Buffy telling us what to do, or you; this is our call. Faith is a slayer… we're already involved."
"You have no idea Kennedy, what you're dealing with here…"
"All the more reason to go and find out. She's just one slayer, we're practically a dozen - what do you think she could do to us?"
"I'd rather not find out."
Like a stalemate. The stares flitting between many, until finally, whether they meant to or not, they turned and rested again on Buffy. Whether she wanted them to or not. All that Buffy wanted was to find Faith and settle some of the confusion… maybe find a bed and rest her head in the memories of the evening. She did not want to be pushed to the fore again, didn't want to be in control when all of her latest decisions had been so readily attacked.
"I don't know, okay? Giles, I guess you should go ahead and call Angel, we should probably find out if she's already headed back there. Girls, maybe Giles has a point… if we find Faith, I can pretty much guarantee that she won't be looking to play nice; I don't want anyone getting hurt because I-"
"Whoa, slow down great leader. We already told Giles we don't need orders. You know we've got your back, got Faith's too if she needs it - just tell us where to look."
The words enough to get everyone moving. Buffy had watched Willow roll her eyes and turn to leave the lobby. Not trying to protest against anyone, maybe knowing that her protests held no weight anymore… just skulking away, sadness in mind. And Giles, his almost eager grab for the telephone, his even more eager words to Angel.
Wanting to laugh at the way he managed to talk around everything that had really happened, as if even he knew how much Angel would have to say on the issue. She hadn't laughed though. Beneath the forced joviality, it was all still much too serious for smiling. Faith hadn't run home, she was still out there all alone. Not knowing where. Not knowing what mindset. Just arranging to meet the girls again in twenty. Long enough to get changed… to pull back her hair in a way that meant all business.
Nothing close to long enough to work out what the hell she thought she was going to do when they finally found Faith.
The bathroom mirror was the only place that Buffy allowed to see the things that she hadn't been able to put into words in the lobby. Her fingertips trembling as she lifted them to trace the outline of her lips; her breath catching as she remembered everything that they had felt. Were still feeling. The brutality in an instant that had been cushioned by the softness that followed. The urgency that Faith had used to pound her mouth with the tantalising taste of her tongue.
God. A kiss that she had neither dreamt of nor expected. A kiss that was still rocking everything that Buffy liked to refer to as her world.
She had slowly been coming to terms with the way that she felt for Faith; she had spoken of love to Xander, had explained the feeling to herself, but she hadn't been prepared to deal with a situation where Faith had smacked her so hard with her lips. The fists were expected. The kicks were an obvious follow up…
But a kiss?
And not just a kiss, not the kind of kiss that could be put down to something like the heat of a moment - it was more like the heat of every moment. Every war torn glare that they had exchanged over time, every hurt intoned word that had marked out all of their boundaries. To Buffy it seemed like natural progression. She hadn't expected that Faith would share the same conclusion.
Yet it had been Faith who had sparked the conclusion. Had been the one who had insisted that this was the path that they would follow.
The bathroom mirror didn't hold the answers for Buffy. It held her beat-up reflection and slightly bemused expression, but it didn't answer back when she asked the question why? Didn't offer words of comfort and guidance when her eyes took on the look of lost. A certainty that only made her sigh.
And now what?
The soft tap against her door making her wonder if her twenty was up already, if the slayers were chomping at the bit in an effort to get the show on the road. Taking a final breath, splashing her face one last time with the cooling stream of water and turning to take control. Remembering strength, remembering leadership, and drawing back the door with all of that on view…
"Xander?"
"Hey, can I come in?"
More of the completely unexpected.
"What are you… why aren't you sleeping?"
"And pass up on all of the crazy excitement? Not a chance. Anyway, I've got some inside info that I think you might be interested in."
"Yeah? Well unless you know where Faith's hightailed it to, I'm seriously lacking the time."
"What - Faith's missing? Darn it Buffy… I told ya not to go looking for an ambush. You should probably think about listening to me more often, I really am a whole heap smarter than I look."
"Well there's a relief."
She found one of those smiles that looked to tinkle a laugh as she pulled back the door to offer him entry. Stretching out her neck and dropping soft to the bed. So sorely tempted to just lay back and close her eyes. "So what's the info? You have an idea on where Faith might have gone?"
"My guess? I reckon she'd be looking to kick the ass of whoever set her up."
And it took a moment. Buffy's thoughts fleeing in every direction as she wondered where exactly that would be. His smirk trying to prompt her along… her eyes flying wide as it began to make sense.
"Wait, you mean - you know where she is, don't you?"
"See, you're a lot smarter than you look, too."
"Xander…"
Not playing. Not wanting to play.
"Lighten up Buff. I nearly took one hell of an ass whupping tonight because of you; at least allow me a little fun in return."
Except that nothing in Buffy was about finding the fun. Not right then, not when her mind was close to breaking from all of the strain of too much to comprehend. Not even really understanding what Xander was trying to tell her - no clue as to why he was there, what he was offering…
"Where is she, Xander?"
The only thing that really mattered. "How is she?"
The only other thing.
"She's okay. She's not killing anyone. Came a little too close for a minute; thought maybe she was gonna teach me how to fly without the wings. She's pissed, a whole lot of confused. She wants to see you."
"What?"
"She wants to see you."
"I heard the words… but, what?"
There was no way that she could continue to remain sitting down. That her thoughts could even dream about sleeping anymore with that little nugget of information screaming loud in her ears. Buffy had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like a lifetime. Since the night that she had driven in the knife right up to its hilt, she had been waiting on the time when Faith would allow her to take it back out. To undo every act that had only been about hurting. Relentlessly pacing out all of the emotions that were slamming fast through her tired and tiny frame.
"Slow down, Buffster… she's not looking for a party. She's a whole long way away from wanting to find the fun."
"What does she want?"
"Not my place to say. I don't know everything that went on out there with you, but I do know that she's pretty shook up by it all - she said some things. From the bruising I'm guessing that she hit some things too. Are you okay?"
"It's nothing." Buffy's hand made the same vague gesture that Giles had made earlier - encompassing her injuries in one swift sweep. Brushing them aside. "Where is she, Xander?"
"You're gonna go easy on her, right? You know how hard she's been trying with all this… it wouldn't be fair to mess it up for her."
"You think I'd do that?"
"No, not on purpose. Just… go easy. You're like her blind-spot or something, she has trouble dealing…"
And she didn't have time for this. The excitement about a possibility of a conclusion was being tempered by the terrifying thought of everything that could happen. Good or bad. Or both. All fizzing through her with the speed of a runaway express train… trying to put the brakes on, trying to gather something like sense.
"I'll go easy. I'll go the easiest. I don't want to hurt her anymore, you know you don't need to worry about that. Now where is she Xander?"
"Up on the roof."
"Huh?"
"I know, totally too much like a James Taylor recital, but it is where she is."
James who?
Buffy was stuck in a different place in a different time, when up on the roof only preceded the fall to the ground. The blood pouring. Her hands showing everything that she had done. The life that she had taken. Up on the roof.
"What's she doing up there?"
"Waiting for you. Other than that, it was a safe place to go, no one else goes up there. I'm not even sure if people know you can go up there. Just take the stairs to the top - oh, and knock three times on the door when ya get there. She doesn't want unexpected guests."
Okay…
"I have to let the girls know, let Giles know…"
"I'll take care of the Buffy brigade, you take care of Faith. And tell her I said not to hit you anymore - might also be good to mention that you don't like to fly."
"Why does this suddenly feel like I'm walking towards an execution?"
"Because you love the melodramatic? It'll be fine. Just keep it easy, let her say what she wants to say, and don't push it. Let her have her peace, Buffy. She needs it."
"Right. Peace, no pushing, no flying - are you sure about this?"
The terrifying taking hold a whole lot more than the excitement. Still reeling from the kiss, still aching from the kicks… apprehension doing its best to reach out and strangle her.
"Just go, Buff. She's waiting, she'll be getting antsy."
"Antsy. Okay. I'm going……"
"You need to actually move."
"Thinking about it."
"Buffy…"
And maybe this was it. A foothold. A chokehold. Destiny or damnation. Buffy had no idea what would be waiting to meet her on the roof - whether it would be a run through of all of the things that she longed to forget - whether it would be the final conclusion to something that she prayed would never have a conclusion. Like walking towards an execution.
And Faith the one who was guarding the gallows.
There were no gallows on the roof though. Just stars that were muted by the blinding lights of downtown LA, and a slayer that was muted by all of the things that had happened that night.
Faith had slayed again. She had felt that same flaming fire erupt in her soul to burn in the face of all things evil. She had felt liberated by the dust that signalled her return. And she had found a belief in the feeling that she could do this. She could be okay again… she could follow Angel's direction and maybe one day return to her life. A new life. Something that wasn't all about nothing.
And then…
She blew out a sigh that rose up to the moon, as she tried to put any kind of words to what had happened after. Almost still a blur - like a blip - someone that shouldn't have been there… that shouldn't have stuck their two fucking cents in. Again. Always riding her ass, always being the better. Making Faith put paid to that with punches that demanded a hearing, with hits that reduced everything down to the hate that she had always been destined to feel.
Not always.
The tinted pinks and dipping green. The confusion of what all of that meant to her.
Faith wasn't even sure why she was up there now, what the fuck she thought she could achieve by casting her eyes over Buffy… how looking into the green would do anything other than have her falling again.
Pain from the last fall still close enough to touch. Still recent enough to have her flirting with the edge of the roof in a twisted temptation to end it all again. To recover the easiness of unconsciousness. A large part of her wanting it. A larger part begging for it. But Faith was trying. Trying so fucking hard to silence those voices; to make a decision that wasn't based entirely upon being the fuck up.
She could do this. She would do this.
Absently running her fingers across her lips. Holding her breath on the memory that she didn't want to think about. Would take the plunge before she did think about.
Just lips…
…just…
No.
Fists clenching. Mind crunching. Because it wasn't about that and would never be about that. Faith had defiled that feeling a thousand times over, and no moment of madness, no minute of absolute fucked up wonder, was going to drag her back towards something that she knew she would never be able to deal with.
Faith was here to say goodbye. She was here for her swansong. She was here for the final death before life could begin.
Three taps against the door making the reality seem harsher. Not making sounds to grant an entrance, just keeping her place that guarded the edge… so close to one way, trying so hard to seek out another.
"Faith?"
Hearing the voice that had shadowed her dreams in all of the time that she could remember. Now time. Down time. Every time.
"Xander said you wanted to see me… you do want to see me, right?"
Not turning. Not letting her eyes leave the stars.
"You want me to start?"
Not letting the pain in her chest move her anymore than the pain that had seemed determined to dog her the whole of her life. Ominous tones finally breaking free to ask a question - the question - something that she had always longed to know the answer to. Toes creeping forward. Her mind screaming backwards. Her voice scratching the air as she breathed out the words.
"How far do I have to fall B, until I hit the bottom?"
Leaving the stars. Looking into the green.
And falling again.
The desperate question that fell from Faith's lips, didn't only scratch the air as it voiced the pain of her every predicament; it also scratched and scraped at a place deep inside of Buffy - as if in that moment she could feel exactly how Faith felt. Prickling her skin. Raising the hairs on the back of her neck. Grabbing onto the anguish and letting it guide her slowly forward… just one step, two steps… trying to return the query with the same frank honesty that Faith had offered. Hoping to utilise the four years of wasted wishing that had somehow always kept her believing that one day she would be here. Both of them. Facing off on the issue that was nothing to do with the demons in the real world, but everything to do with the demons that they had crafted for themselves.
The inner demons. The inner fears. The things that eyes of broken brown were telegraphing to her now. Like a plea. Like a silent shout that begged for Buffy to do that one special thing that she'd been born to do.
Strengthening her resolve. Remembering her vow. Shrugging off her own fears to take another step. Settling her shoulders to show that she was in complete control - she had this.
"You're not falling anymore Faith; you're done with the falling."
"Not what I asked."
"What - you think that there's some kind of benchmark? That I can tell you how crappy it all has to get, before you can make it better?"
"The heads up would be nice."
"Not that easy. You're the only one that knows how you feel, you're the one that has to make the decision. I can tell you a thousand times that things have changed, that everything's different - hell, I could promise you that I'd never let you fall again, that I'd swear to be there to catch you if you did - but I'm not the one you need to listen to Faith. I'm not the one that's got the answer."
With every word that Buffy spoke, she tried to gain more ground. Fully aware of the abyss that opened up into nothingness right behind Faith; not willing to gamble on whether or not she would take the jump. Whether she would be seeking to repeat their history as her final act of defiance.
"That the best you've got to offer, B? No pep talk from The Slayer to put me back on track? - hold it there… that's close enough…"
Her feet halted too far away to ever make a difference.
"…Thought you'd be bursting with the answers. Dying to serve up that special brand of Buffy bullshit to pull me back in line."
"Is that why you wanted to see me?"
"Isn't that why you're here? Fuck - you think I don't know why you followed me tonight? Just itching for me to screw it all up again; ready to ride in and save the day when it all went tits up."
"You're wrong."
"The hell I am."
Not moving and not needing to. Only having to hold her ground and allow Faith to be the one that travelled the distance. Like baby steps. Tiny treads around the issue, tiny breaths that punctuated her speech with accusatory silences. Like now. Another moment of soaking it up… another inch closer to the ghosts of the past.
"I know your game B, I know what the fuck this is."
"Really? You care to share?"
"Screw you. Nothing I say means shit to you; never has. All you do is see things the way you want - make your own truth and call the rest of us liars."
"And what do you do, Faith? Sell out the first time that things don't go your way - shift sides rather than face the consequences?"
If she hadn't been expecting it, Buffy may have learnt how to fly there and then. She had always known what flipped and flicked Faith's switches though, had always known which things were likely to trigger a reaction that called for violence. Pushing now, taunting now, calling out the demons to a place where she could see them. Dodging the fist that was aimed with fury, sidestepping a kick that begged her to find silence.
"What's up Faith, the truth still hurt?"
Swatting aside every attempt that would add to her bruises until the flurry became futile. Until Faith's anger realised that actions could achieve so much less than words. Pushed back but not held back - every syllable succinct to the point of hating, each word rushing to trip into the next:
"You know fuck all about me! You think I wanted that? You think I had any option other than what I did?"
"You didn't even try."
"I more than tried!! Every single fucked up day, I tried to live like you wanted; be a good girl, be a good slayer. Where the hell did it get me, B? First fucking time I made a mistake, you sold me out. How's that for a truth that hurts?"
It was the perfect example of a truth that hurt. The memory further away for Buffy, but aching all the same. Not allowing it to touch the sides as she sought to bring everything out to the fore. Hunting down demons. Eyes on her prize.
"So you go to the mayor? That's your way of dealing?"
"Why not? May have been an evil fucker, but at least he sold it straight. Had pride in his eyes when he called me a killer."
"That's something to be proud of?"
Just easing her along. Step by step.
"Beats the alternative. Bet you slapped some high fives when you stuck it in me - same sitch B, just different sides of the line."
"I never slapped any high fives. I never meant to-"
"Save it. Got the memo from Xander already - poor Buffy. Buffy never meant to hurt you, Buffy was so worried about you… guess what? Don't mean shit to me. I was there, I was the fuck up, I felt just how much I never meant to you………"
"Go on."
Silence.
Like maybe the words had tripped too fast. Like maybe they were approaching the things that Buffy had been waiting on and that she knew Faith would want to avoid. Like the plague. "What - no more to say Faith?"
"I didn't… don't wanna do this."
And she could see the boundaries daring to show face again. Brown eyes that had poured with vehemence trying to claim back lost ground… a hand reaching up to swipe through her hair, feet stepping back towards the downside of the roof.
"You should go now, this was a bad idea."
"You think you're getting off that easy?"
"Just leave it. You're twisting shit again… you're…"
"No, the shit's twisting you. Say it Faith, you want me to call you a `fuck up' because it's the safest place you know… what's the plan? Go at it hard so you have an excuse to jump again?"
"Fuck you. I don't need no excuse. Was never afraid of dying."
"Yeah, cos you're just such a badass. I may have been the one that stuck in the knife, but it wasn't me that killed you, Faith. You did that yourself, it was always your jump to take."
Calling out the monsters again. Howling out obscenities over the blackening skyline of LA. As if night time wasn't darkness enough to sate their desire, as if they needed thundering clouds to make the pain resonate deeper. And they brought about Buffy's smile - an inappropriate gesture, something that only poured water on all of the oil - but the smile didn't really care. It was the smile of The Slayer, and The Slayer had glimpsed her prey. Had fixed her sights solidly on the demons that dared face her.
"You fucking gutted me! Wanted to feed me to your god damned boy toy like I was a worthless piece of meat! Blood's all on your hands B, ain't no way you're shifting that stain."
"That's crap. You poisoned Angel - you knew what you were doing, what I would have to do."
"And you loved it, right? Dressed up pretty for a special occasion… bet you and Red spent weeks picking that party outfit. What was it B - decked out in leather with a license to kill?"
"You were looking to do the same. If I remember rightly Faith, you were smiling the whole time…"
Like a memory that smashed fast and hit harder. All about the cutting loose, all about the choices that had been made. Their eyes locking with an intensity even deeper than the one that had held the knife. Not blinking. Not breaking. Nowhere left to run.
"You wanted to kill me."
"I never wanted to hurt you."
Thunder allowed to rumble in a distance that crept ever closer. No sudden step behind a wall, no deafening shout to keep the forces of nature at bay. Just silence. No way for Buffy to know what went on behind the eyes that were shadowed by the onset of rain. More clouds gathering. The storm creeping nearer.
"You're angry Faith, I get that; but you need to figure out what you're angry about. It isn't this… this is all just stuff we hid behind, because we were scared of facing the truth."
"Fuck your truth."
"Is that what you wanted to fuck in the cemetery?"
The fist deflected under the illuminated sky that flashed bright with lightning; the follow up able to land on the blindside. Catching Buffy unaware - stopping the flow of the words almost before she'd had a chance to register what she'd said.
The smile curving higher as she did.
"Hit a nerve, Faith? Said something I shouldn't?"
Ready for the full blown attack that she had hoped she would prompt. In all of the weeks since Faith's return, the only time when Buffy had made contact that felt like it meant anything, was when they were fighting. When Faith's energy was directed in a place other than the one that kept hold of her defences. When Buffy had her only opportunity to throw hits that had any chance of landing.
Landing now.
A backhand that twisted Faith's head with the speed. That forced her body around, away from the edge. Pushing her into space, pushing her to let it out:
"Thought you wanted to fight, F - I'm giving you something to fight against. Call me a liar, tell me that you didn't want me up against that tree, that you haven't always wanted me…"
"Fuck you!"
"Another come on?"
Her own hands bewitching her eyes as she pushed aside every feeble punch that Faith could still think to throw. Almost effortless. "Try telling me that's not the reason you flipped and went crazy - all pissed inside cos I couldn't see the real you - isn't that the truth, Faith? Isn't that why we're still doing this?"
The rain beginning to fall in earnest.
"You don't know anything! I hate you, I always fucking hated you!"
Seeking shelter. Faith's vitriol fading as fast as her pain soaked punches. Barely a struggle for Buffy to hold on, to push her back. Further back… not stopping until she met resistance. The wall greeting them hard, the rush of air from Faith's lungs barely breaking the storm. And it wasn't over. It was still just beginning.
The hard all about finding a way to meet the soft. The slayer able to quiet the demons, but Buffy the one who would have to make the words that spoke the difference. Her heart sounding in her chest as loud as she had ever heard it - walking the tightrope - blind leading blind. Her hands holding Faith's wrists high above her head in an attempt to have the brown eyes looking into hers, to make her finally listen to the words that she had matured enough to know.
"Stop fighting me Faith. This won't stop, until you quit fighting me."
"Get off me…"
"Just listen, I can help you."
Returning the struggle to more of the fight. Having to use real force, having to slam Faith hard again, to gain back control.
"Get the fuck off of me!"
"Listen to me! Will you please just fucking listen to me!"
Pushing against her with a roughness that demanded compliance, cursing just to get the attention of the one who she wanted to speak to:
"I get it Faith, I know how much you want to hate me, I know how much easier it would be if you could just keep on calling this hate. This isn't that though, really it isn't. You can't keep kidding yourself, you can't keep denying why this keeps on happening."
"Buffy…"
"No. I know what I did now to make you so angry, what made all of this go so far towards crazy; and you're not going anywhere Faith - not until you hear what I'm saying…"
Holding tight.
"You sold me out."
"I did. And I stabbed you in the stomach on top of that roof. I let you push me away - I let you make the jump. I tricked you when you tried to take Angel's soul, and I laughed in your face when I saw what that did to you. I never hated you though. That isn't what any of this was ever about."
"No? Called me a killer. Sounded like hate to me."
"I was stupid. I was scared. I was feeling things that didn't make sense about someone who could barely be in the same room with me without causing me to lose my mind. My control…"
"And you can't take losing control, can ya B?"
Letting go. Easing off to hear the words that ranted in return. Not with anger… no more hits being thrown… but real questions. Honest questions. Questions just as valid as the ones that Buffy wanted to ask. And she could quiet for that. She'd been waiting for that.
"You were the one who was pushing. Fuck - had me all sewn up and ready to roll the good way, till your boy got back in town. What was I, B - just someone to keep your dreams wet? A warm body to rub against in sparring, cos Angel couldn't seal the deal?"
"Honestly? Maybe. I wasn't the only one there though Faith - you never said anything, you never-"
"What?! Told Buffy Fucking Summers that my intentions weren't all holy? I could sleep a thousand fucking years and know how that one goes down."
"So you don't even try? You don't think that maybe I was the dense one? That I needed a good whack upside the head with a five by five?"
"Two by four."
"Not what I meant."
Finally fighting through the fog to make words in a way that Faith might understand. Stepping out into the rain again and not caring if Faith followed, just needing to tip her head back and feel the forceful flow. Letting it pound against her skin, running fresh through her hair. Soaking her face faster than any of the tears that were threatening to fall.
"I know what I did now Faith… I rejected you. Maybe I didn't get it all at the time, but I knew enough to know that you felt something for me. That I was turning my back on you. I used the accident in the alleyway to protect myself from what I was feeling… if you were bad, then maybe it would stop, maybe the feeling would go away. You wanna know the truth though?"
And Faith had followed.
Out into the rain herself; exposed to the forces of nature with eyes that shone bright from the storm.
"It never stopped. I moved on, sure - did college, did funerals… my own included - but this feeling, Faith, this feeling has never stopped being there. Even when I denied it, when I denied you, it never went away. You saw my dream, you shared it with me, you know I was waiting for you. Even in heaven, I was still waiting for you."
Lights flashing. More crashing. Still no words from Faith.
"Do you hear me, do you understand what I'm trying to say to you? This isn't hate - you can stop beating on me now, stop trying to throw yourself off of roofs that don't exist anymore. It's done Faith. It's over."
"You finished?"
"Did you hear me?"
"Loud and fucking clear. Don't know what you want from me though… what the fuck you think that's gonna do for me. Tell it how ya want B, but it won't change the facts."
"What facts are they?"
"That being near you makes me crazy."
"You don't think you make me a little crazy too?"
The sky lightening again as if just to prove it. Standing on a roof, in the rain, proclaiming feeling to someone who had tried beating her more times in one night than anyone else previous. Buffy felt crazy. The good side of crazy. Daring to smile again now - not a slayer smile, not about demons - a Buffy smile.
"You always made me crazy, Faith."
"When you go crazy, no one dies."
"You did."
All of the truth. Backwards and forwards.
"Different sitch, B. Said it yourself: I pushed ya to make the cut, I knew what I was doing."
"So did I. I still do. And I'm tired of all this Faith. Can't we just stop now? Can we please stop pretending that we don't know what this is really about?"
Measuring her breaths against the storm that was still growling hungry in the distance. Holding her mouth shut to give Faith the room to find something to say:
"I gotta go."
Not what she wanted.
"Faith, please…"
"No, you please. Shit, it's too much, alright? Can't decide if I should kill ya or-"
"Kiss me?"
"I didn't… I didn't mean that. Any of this. I'm doing good, B. Finally settling the stuff that never looked to settle. Gonna take a whole lot of time to make that straight. Can't just call it over and make it all okay."
Stepping aside to let Faith pass. Not even sure if any of this would make any kind of difference, if it was the peace that Xander had implored, or if it was just the things that had weighed down heavy upon her own mind. No way of knowing. Faith still the elusive book that she didn't know how to read. Still speaking a language that she struggled to understand.
Standing still. Soaked through in more ways than the rain could ever look to achieve; saturated in sadness - wet through with tears. And all of them falling. Not a wasted notion - nothing wasted if Faith would only look, and see, and know - and finally believe that all of the hate had left the building. Their hate. Self hate.
"Faith, wait?"
"No more B… I can't… not anymore. Not now."
"Just one thing, answer me one thing?"
And what one thing?
Faith poised with hand on door to hear the final flourish. The words that would have to last the distance of an ocean. That would have to make the journey across the four years that had been lost to them forever.
Scared again. Terrified. Too much to ask for love. Still too much of the hurting to get in the way of the happy. Only one thing that Buffy could appeal for, one thing that she felt she could ask:
"Did you hear anything I said, Faith? Did any of it make a difference to you?"
Exhaustion the only thing left holding her up, as Faith stole away the peace that Buffy herself had unknowingly been searching for. Turning to leave without making a sound. Without offering anything. The last hope gone.
The slayer had fought her hardest. Buffy had fought even harder. And the hate may have finally left the building by way of the truth, but in its place stood only emptiness. A desolation as primal as the rain that cried a river of tears in a sorrowful symphony with Buffy.
Hope gone. Faith gone. The pain still burning bright.
The pain lifting the further and further that Faith got away from the feelings that had soaked her up on the roof. Wet through. Clothes sticking to her now as she made her way back down the stairs… not hiding. Not feeling anymore like she needed to hide. A curiosity. Barely able to process the words that Buffy had given to her, yet knowing already, deep down inside, that something sat different.
That she stood different.
Not stiffening her shoulders to beat back the world, just pulling herself up to maybe meet it head on. The voices quiet now. No more speaking now. The silence bringing forth a new voice - a different sound - a tone that confirmed that she had fallen far enough. That she had faced down her demons… she wasn't so weak anymore.
Hands still wringing the water from her hair as she took the stairs down to the lobby; seeing the roadblock and finding a smile. More curiosity.
"Xander?"
Like a barrier. Stood above the steps and guarding the passage. Surrounded by a solid group of girls that Faith had been told were all slayers.
"Faith, hey. Everything go okay?"
His gaze running over her. Glancing up. Looking around.
"It's fine. She's fine. What's the deal with the girly-fest? Lining up my replacement in case I took the fall?"
"No. More like giving you the time to get past the fall. Angel's here… he's been waiting."
And he was there. His unimpressed form sliding out from the shadows to greet her with eyes that betrayed his impatience; that shone bright with the fury of being set aside so easily.
"Are you okay, Faith?"
All stiff. All pissed. And she wasn't feeling that.
"Flying high. Ready to roll." Bypassing all of the gazes that studied her enquiringly - no part of her wanting to meet and to greet and make a bunch of new buddies. "Hope you brought the car, it's wet as hell out there."
"I have the car."
"Then you're my hero. Been thinking `bout stopping by that rib place on the way home and scoring some food… this redemption deal is hungry work."
Raising his eyebrows with words that she knew would hit home. And she wanted them to. She had told him that she had this, that she could do this, and even if she hadn't believed it at the time, she was believing it now. Less buzzing in the back of her brain. No snake coiling tight to hiss and dismiss her.
"Should I call ahead to Wes, make sure the gym is empty?"
"Nah, don't need any more pounding tonight. My plans include eating and sleeping… don't see how Wes figures in any of that."
The stairs passed and her step found. In beside Angel, turning just once before she escaped through the doors.
"Xander, you'll call me tomorrow?"
"Sure thing, Slay Gal."
His smile enough to say goodbye. His hand raising as if to drive home the point. But…
…just something.
As if her feet hadn't clarified the situation quite as easily as her brain liked to think. Not moving so freely. Seeing Xander's gaze switch to questioning as she stood there unmoved. And what? A deep breath… a licking of lips… her teeth holding tight to the spot that had kissed. Tasting the memory. The first acceptance of a feeling that she had been forced to remember:
"You should go check on B… she's… just… Go check on her, okay?"
Eyes parading the things that words couldn't form.
And she didn't need the words when she had something like peace. Not defined yet. Not worked at and wondered at, or set out in stone. But there.
Beneath the rain soaked clothes that clung tight to her body and prompted a shiver, Faith could feel the calm. Not before the storm, but after. The things that could settle when the clouds went away.
The scene sat silent as Xander slowly pushed open the door that led out onto the roof. No sound except for the pounding force of the rain; no animation in the girl that he had come looking to find. On her knees. Head bowed. And he wondered what it was that she was praying for. Why Faith had looked as if the rain had cleansed her soul, yet Buffy only looked as though her soul was being washed away in the downpour.
And he hated it. Absolutely despised the idea that all of this mess was looking to bring such profound heartache to a woman who he loved. And respected. And admired. Because when Buffy's heart broke, his broke a little too. Clearing the sadness which wanted to etch on his face as he took the first step towards holding her upright. His feet finding spaces between the puddles, his hand reaching out to lay soft on her shoulder:
"Hey Buffster, you gonna come inside? You stay out here in this and there's danger of shrinkage."
No reply. No retort to defend her size.
His gaze forced to scan the scenery to look for answers. To switch upwards toward heaven and search for a break in the clouds.
Already here once before. Except that when he had faced Faith on the roof, it had been anger and rage that he had looked hard to placate - nothing in Buffy spoke of anger and rage. That would be easier; with Faith it was easier. Almost as if the fact that they hadn't shared so much history made it a simpler task to pass by the bad. With Buffy he shared a whole lifetime of history. He had seen her aching before, he had seen her breaking before, and every foot he placed felt like it had to be placed with meticulous care. Not able to offer simple platitudes about everything's changed, because he knew himself that, for Buffy, nothing had changed.
She saved the world. A lot. She got hurt in the process. A whole lot more. Like a formula that always followed the rules. A formula that he wished he could find the solution to now. Easing his thoughts as she broke the monotonic rhythm of the rain to offer the monotonic rhythm of her words:
"Has she gone?"
"She's gone."
"Right. I guess that's that then."
Feeling her shift beneath his hand. Shrugging him off. Using the strength that always remained to bring herself up to standing. And he offered her the space, kept his gaze steady as she allowed him to see the depth of pain that ran steady from her eyes.
Tears.
Something he would never get used to seeing in Buffy.
"Hey, are you okay?"
"I'm going with no. Definitely no."
"Can I do anything?"
A useless question.
Already knowing before Buffy could answer, that there really wasn't anything that he could do to make this better. He understood the dynamics, had been regaled with tales downstairs that told how the slayers had kissed. He knew what she needed, and he knew what he couldn't give to her. It made his arms feel empty even as he offered the hug. It forced him to feel the slightness in her body and remember that beneath all of the strength, there was still so much that could be hurt. That could ache the same, regardless of super powers.
"Come on, let's get you inside. I know you can't catch your death from a cold, but even slayers can catch the sniffles."
"I don't care. I like it up here."
"You do know that it's raining?"
"Call it acclimatising - it rains a lot in England."
"Buffy……"
And what?
Xander didn't have the magic wand or the magic words that could change the situation, and in his mind he knew that the situation deserved the rain. Already feeling as it slicked his hair to his forehead, as it trickled in that space between collar and neck. Letting it fall. Letting his feet remain in place as he braved the storm to stand at her side.
"…They have a lot of umbrellas in England too."
Just being there. All that he could do.
Beneath the roof where the rain fell steady, there were other storms that howled and raged and looked to place pain deep in hearts. Too many words that had flashed fast like lightning. Too many provocations that had only returned the words to make more tears.
Willow tears.
Every twisted taste of hate replaced by the battered feel of misery. A misery that Willow could no longer deny that she felt she deserved.
So much had seemed wrong since the return of Faith. Not only forced to feel the distant tingling of a feeling that she had long ago laid to rest, but also forced to remember the deeds that she had done when it was Tara that they were burying. No rest there. No matter that she had undignified her responses with a solution that begged for sense, Willow knew that evil was as evil did, and she had done a whole lot of evil.
She had flayed a man alive. She had wanted to flay the world. She had seen the hope and love in Buffy's eyes and she had told her that it made her twisted and wrong.
So who was the wrong one now?
Willow didn't need to look far to find the answer to her burning question; she only had to look inside of herself and feel the discomfort from all of her recent actions. Nearly all. No discomfort from hating Faith - that was something that had always come easy - but for the way that she had turned her back on Buffy. Had spat on her feelings as if they were there to be ridiculed. Even tonight, when all she had wanted to do was to tend to Buffy's wounds, she had only managed to make the wounds cut deeper. Slicing through friendship. Inviting the misery. No tub of ice cream big enough to soothe the issues that had risen to the top when the past had gate- crashed the present. To the soothe the sighs that kept falling on rapid repeat to drop solid to the floor.
Someone else left feeling like everything had been lost.
Kennedy had switched rooms to bunk in with Rona; looking for space, for sanity away from the uber-bitch. Xander was staying behind when they all left for England. Dawn was more interested in talking about what came next, as opposed to what came then. And Buffy…
…Buffy couldn't even look her in the eye anymore.
It made the lips wobble. It almost made Willow wish that she lived in that time where everything could be solved by the wave of a wand and a few magic words. But more than that, it reached down deep - the core characteristics - gracing her face with a look that was everything Willow.
Because things could be solved when she found her resolve.
Shoving aside thoughts of sleep that would never come, to stand instead and take stock of what lay broken before her. The things that she could salvage, the things that she could fix. The jealousy of a memory nothing in comparison to the bond of friendship that existed between herself and Buffy.
And she could work with that. She would work with that.
No time for hindsight; to take back all of the things that had been said beneath clouds of rejection. Just time to say sorry. To finally shift aside the selfish and look for the sunshine.
Because Buffy Summers needed a friend. Willow had first filled out the application form years ago, and all that was left to do now was to reapply and hope, that Buffy still needed and wanted her friendship.
No matter how soft the tap at the door, it still sounded nothing but intrusive to Xander. He had tempted Buffy away from the rain, had stood soldier-like outside of the bathroom as she had taken a shower, and now, like before, he was offering all that he had in a safe pair of arms.
Tears stopped. No more room for crying. Yet still allowing him to hold on tight. To hold her close. At least until the tapping came. Until she shifted.
"Will you see who it is?"
No sound of strength left.
"We could just ignore it. I'm enjoying the snuggly time with my most favourite slayer."
"What if it's……"
And she didn't need to finish. His thoughts already travelling the same path - already wondering if fate hadn't caught a bad case of the hiccups and they were the ones left paying the price. Untangling his limbs as he crossed his fingers and hoped for a better alternative: Faith had not lost it somewhere on the way home. She hadn't dusted Angel in a fit of mindless madness. She hadn't wiped out half of LA in an attack on all of the same old crap. He really, really hoped.
Wanting to close that one remaining eye as he drew back the door to await the news. Left spreading the eye as he saw just who the messenger would be.
"Willow. Uh… hey."
"Hey. Is Buffy in there?"
And should he lie?
Not sure of how to proceed. Xander was well aware of all of the shit that had hit the fan as fallout from Willow's spell, and he knew absolutely that Buffy did not need anymore of the fallout tonight. This morning. Whatever hour it was. She had been through enough - again - and he would stand as her soldier for as long as she needed him…
"I take it by the long and increasingly uncomfortable silence, that she is?"
"Look Will, she's really not up for more of this tonight."
"Hey, not here for fighting."
And he felt Buffy behind him even before she'd pulled hard on the door - whipping it from his grasp - slayer strength rendering the soldier in him useless.
"What exactly are you here for?"
The ice in her tone rendering everything useless.
"Buffy, I…"
"What? Heard I was down and wanted to come kick me?"
"No! This isn't that, I'm not here for kicking - wait, unless you wanted to kick me? Which with the way I've been acting lately, not gonna be a great big shocker."
"Will?"
And Xander wanted to second that motion. Because who exactly had removed the bitch and put Willow back in her place? All of the sharp edges smoothing again. That unsure smile that had stayed the same since kindergarten, tugging softly at her lips. And…
"Will?"
Motion seconded.
"You're both wondering why I'm not acting all mean with the bitchy, right?"
"Actually, I'm still kinda wondering what you're doing here. I thought I warned you to stay away from me, do you really need me to prove the point."
Just watching as Buffy folded her arms tight across her chest. Not in the same way she'd been doing for the last hour; trying to bring comfort, more the: you've pissed me off and now you're going to get hurt, classic kind of style. Making him want to be everyone's protector. The builder in him wanting to steady the foundations.
"Hey Buff, ease off a little on the aggression, okay. Maybe we can invite Willow in, see what she wants to say?"
"You think I haven't heard enough of what she wants to say? How's it go Will - I'm sick and I'm twisted and I'm completely in love with a murdering psycho bitch?"
Oh.
It oh'd Xander and he had heard the confession before. Looking directly at Willow, he could see that she was in a whole big world of OH, of her own now. Eyes stunned. Mouth hanging. Words caught somewhere inside of a stutter.
"Y-you… what?"
"You heard what I said. Why the sudden silence - isn't this the part where you threaten to fry my insides? Maybe rip out my still beating heart and toss it to the wolves. Hey, maybe you could get really creative…"
Still room for crying.
"…maybe you could figure out a way to make me hurt more than I'm hurting right now. Is that what you want, Will? Is that why you're here?"
"Oh Goddess…"
Xander had already steadied his arms to take the fall, but he was beaten in the moment by Willow. Stepping forward across the threshold to offer Buffy the comfort that she had been longing for since Faith's return to consciousness. Soothing all of the cries with words of sorry, with promises to ensure that everything would be okay. No more accusations, and no more recriminations - just there. For now. Back where she should be. The best friend at Buffy's side.
By the time that Faith had returned home and eaten enough to satisfy the hunger that raged from all that had happened, it was almost the hour for the sun to start splitting the sky. Angel twisting the cord to dim the blinds - not needing to shade himself - just offering her a light less bright to sleep to. Asking if maybe, she wanted to talk?
And did she?
It was a question that had bugged Faith the whole time that they had been returning from Buffy's. Keeping her eyes on the road that stretched out before them, not able to keep her mind from the places she had just left behind:
Had Xander done as she'd asked?
Was Bu… was everything okay?
All of it fizzing along under the passing glow of the dimly lit streetlamps. Illuminating all of the dark places, making Faith wonder at all of the things that she didn't want to be anymore. The person that she didn't want to be. Not sure if she could lay it all down in words though - if she could look at Angel now and explain all of the things that had affected her that night. The only thing that affected her.
Really and truly, the same old shit.
"What do ya wanna talk about, Big Guy - how those slayers served up your ass on a plate tonight?"
Avoidance in place to buy some time for thinking. An idea that almost had her avoiding with laughter. She knew herself that she had changed when she started thinking about - well, thinking.
"They didn't serve up anything."
"No? Sure I heard B dishing out the marching orders. That's gotta sting a little: being kept in line by a bunch of girls… Can admire their balls though. Sure is nice to see the chicks carrying the power for a change."
"You'd admire anything to change the point of focus, Faith. If you don't want to talk to me, that's fine, I can wait. But I'm not staying here to give you a target to ease the tension. I can call Spike if you wanna trade insults."
"Ooh, is someone feeling a little bit tetchy? Should I perhaps call The Englishman to open up the gym?"
The accent that she couldn't help but slaughter as she sought to mimic something like Wes, was enough to have even the broodiest of vampires reaching for a smile. Just a small one. Just a vague curve of that somewhere soft around the edges.
"Do you realise how bad that sounds?"
"No way, man! Spike's been giving me lessons - taught me a wicked version of God Save The Queen. Kept going on about his Sex Pistol too though, which is just kinda gross when you get right down to it…"
Her non-stop sudden love for babbling having Angel's lips lifting even higher. His body leaning back against the side to settle in for the show - her mouth not able to stop. As if all of the words that wanted to come out, were pushing aside all of the crap that sat in the way.
"…but then the dude's still stuck as a ghost, so it's not like I'm gonna go all sexual harassment on his ass. That idiot in accounting though - what's his name? Kevin? - that's someone that needs to watch where his hands wanna go. Nearly had to tear him a new hole last week…"
"Faith?"
"…course it would've matched the one I tore him the week before; but then I did warn him. Like, twice. You can't go round expecting people to put up with that shit…"
"Faith! Please. If you've got a complaint about a member of staff, then do as you always do. I'm sure Wesley's having the finest time dismissing every demon that looks at you funny."
"Number Guy's a demon? You sure? I never got that kinda vibe from him."
"You don't think the new assholes might have hurt more, if you were tearing them in something human?"
"Huh? Yeah, well that figures. And there was me thinking I was still being bad. Oh well - gotta remember to look in that mirror tomorrow, see who I see."
Faith even went so far as to lay back and close her eyes. Knowing herself how close she was coming to running out of useless shit to talk about. A new skill. Or lack thereof. Able to let fly in the old days for hours about alligators, Boston Baptists, tall tales and drummers. Not so easy to avoid the issues now though… not when they were screaming out from the deep down depths to finally be released.
Like indigestion. A twisting in the gut.
Something that cut much deeper.
"I get it, Faith. This is hard stuff to talk about."
"No, it's cool. I look in the mirror a lot."
"Are you going to keep avoiding? There's nothing here to hurt you, no one here that's gonna judge you. Why don't we talk about what happened tonight?"
Still wanting to run.
"The Slayers served your ass. I served Buffy hers. End of. Sweet dreams. You done now?"
"You hit Buffy?"
Stopping on point as she saw the look on Angel's face. Maybe shocked. Maybe not. Maybe angry? Faith didn't know. She only knew what it felt like.
"That get ya pissed, Angel? You wanna throw down and protect the little lady?"
Forgetting all about feigning sleep, to throw off the covers and stand tall in her sleep wear. The roughness enough to jog the place at her side where Buffy had landed her one good hit that night. The instinctual shot that had made Faith's blood run faster; made her lick her lips before it had led to kisses. Jogging something else. All of her momentum lost in the moment.
"Shit. Sorry, alright? I'm acting like an ass; just forget it on account of me being an ass."
Shrugging back down again. The silk of the sheets instantly soothing where her skin had just prickled. Everything that she had felt in the kiss. Everything that she had seen in the kiss. Too much to think about. Not what she wanted to think about.
"Faith, it is okay. I told you I understood. Giles explained some of what happened tonight, he said something about-"
"What? I know I hit her bad - it's surface shit though, she'll be fine by tomorrow."
"You hit her with kisses?"
Oh.
As if everyone was destined to have their own OH moments before the day could end satisfied. Faith's coming from not knowing that anyone else knew about what had happened in the cemetery. If no one else knew, then she could deny it. To herself. To everyone.
"You heard about that?"
"Giles made vague mention of Buffy kissing you."
"I kissed her first. For the record."
"I'll make a note."
Avoiding his eyes. Avoiding his understanding.
"So how do you feel?"
Not able to avoid the million dollar question. Maybe the kajillion dollar question. Faith hadn't allowed herself to think about it long enough to form anything that felt like a feeling. She had meant what she'd said on the roof: being near Buffy made her go crazy, and she didn't want to be crazy anymore. That she was sure of.
"I dunno. It happened. I don't wanna talk about it - it's not important. Me and B, that's finished now. I've got nothing left to say to her, and I hope to hell that she's run out of things to say to me."
"You know, you might deal better if you try facing up. There are deeper issues involved here Faith, and that's never going to be finished if you don't-"
"I am dealing! Fuck me, how much facing up do I gotta do? Anytime I don't wanna talk about something, you tell me I'm not facing up. That's crap Angel, you know that's crap! I can't talk about this shit! Okay - is that better?! I don't know how to talk about this stuff!"
Finally. The top blowing off. The bottom falling out. The world turned one way and then quickly the next. Admitting it. To Angel - to herself. There was a weakness. And she could at last speak words of what the weakness was. Where the issues had lied.
Bringing her knees up to rest against her chest. To smother the unfamiliar sound that was making her nervous, that was threatening to make her remember.
"It was fucked up. She was fucked up. I never meant to do it… the kiss… I thought - I wanted to kill her. Had myself freaking all over the place… seeing it like it was before. Feeling like I'd landed back in Sunnydale…"
Even now the memory was close enough to make her cling tighter to her knees. Her voice going somewhere far away… her eyes quickly following. Offering Angel the closest look he'd ever had at the girl who lived inside.
"…She even smelled the same. And how fucked up is that? Why do I even remember that stuff? She killed me Angel, she fucking killed me."
"You're not dead, Faith. Buffy didn't kill you."
"That's just technicalities. She did it in spirit… you weren't there, she loved it. Never saw her look as free as she did that night… coming to kill me, no hint of regrets."
So many regrets.
"She can't just kiss me after that. She wants to stick a knife in my gut, then fine; she has to play the game. Always woulda played it different if she'd been looking for the down and dirty. Fuck - the cage coulda been a lot more fun if she was looking for down and dirty…"
"Stop Faith."
Not knowing if she could. Her mouth running away again - new things to talk about, old things to talk about - nothing that she wanted to say and everything that she needed to say. Like an avalanche of emotion, an invitation to bear witness to her annihilation of the past.
"Why? Thought this shit was good to get out. Isn't that what you keep saying - isn't this facing up?"
"No. This is about making yourself hurt more. Destroying a feeling that you don't know how to deal with…"
Wondering if the gym was still empty as Angel looked to find a place beside her. Not touching - he knew how she felt about touching for comfort - but just enough to whisper. To add resonance to the words by dropping his voice.
"…What Buffy feels for you now, is something that's always been there. Maybe for the both of you. Just because it's mixed in with all of the bad times, that doesn't make it a bad thing to feel… It's never a bad thing to feel, Faith. That's what reminds us of who we are, what we live for. You have enough things to pay for, enough crimes to make right - don't add extra to the minus column. Don't punish yourself for falling in love."
Resonating deeply.
Aching deeper.
Words that she never wanted to hear.
Not now. Not then. Not here. Not ever.
"No such disease, Angel. Can we change the subject now - like how I wanna sleep for a week and wake up next century, forget that any of this stuff ever happened."
"You know you can't forget. You can't outrun how you feel."
"Gotta feel it first, and all I'm feeling is tired. Little rough around the ribs - girl's still got a mean ass kick…"
And she was tired. Exhausted. All of the rocks of redemption digging into her feet as she tried so hard to change her path. To walk the way that led to the good times.
"…Can we just be done now? No shit Angel, I'm ready to drop."
Everything about her saying the same.
Smiling just once as he bade her good night. Good morning. Whatever the fuck time of day it was. It really didn't mean anything to Faith - she was ready to drop.
Still not ready to deal with the falling.
Back across town where the storm clouds had gathered, Xander Harris was also bidding his own soft good night, good morning, or whatever the heck time of day it was. Not so loud though. Not so anything that featured words. Just bending slightly to pull up the cover; a kiss to his finger deposited gently on two separate heads.
Not so separate entities anymore though.
Not enemies anymore.
Too many tears for Xander to keep count of, had fallen across Buffy's bed tonight. Mostly the girls; once or twice himself. Sorrow, pain; all of the mistakes that the years could bring. Yet somewhere above the river of tears, they had managed to re-find the place that they liked to call home. That bridge that sometimes buckled, but never truly broke. None of the issues laid to rest, but all of them pushed aside to remember the strength they all gained from the unbreakable bonds of their friendship. From arms that held a familiar feel and from lips that had at last remembered how to find the right smiles. How to make the right words.
It made Xander feel a sadness that couldn't be shifted as he took one last look before closing the door - the two women that meant the most to him in all of the world - the two women that would be leaving him in just about over a day. A sorrow that threatened to buckle him where he stood.
For Xander may have found Faith for himself, may have found distractions that were teaching him all of the memories of finding the fun; but nothing would be able to take away the loss he would suffer when his two favourite birds finally flew from the nest.
Only able to find a final smile, because at least he knew now, that they would be spreading their wings together…
…and also…
…when they woke up later, all full of the Scooby snuggles?
He wondered who would colour most red.
Faith may have finally dropped, may have closed her eyes on all of the torment and closed her ears to all of the words; but even in sleep she hadn't managed to find rest. There was still too much to remember - too much to feel - too many images that had scratched and scraped at her insides like broken splinters of an endless dream. So many fragments of so many lives that when welded together, spoke only of her life.
Mostly of her life.
Hard to ignore the essence of the dream - where it was that her mind seemed to want to meander to at the end of every shattered sequence. No matter the bloodshed or shouts of anguish, the depravity that existed in the darkened depths of a damaged subconscious - the destination was always the same. The feeling was always the same:
Someone had saved her a seat in heaven. There were comics by the bedside.
Her eyes flicking up to see a different bedside now. Not encased in sheets of white or secluded in the silence of peace; just the same old bed. Angel's bed. Currently home to one very pissed off Xander.
And she could see the way that he kept his gaze trained down to the comic in his hand; noting with sadness the way that his jaw worked hard to restrain his words. And she hadn't meant to cause him the discomfort, hadn't meant to make him seek friendship in fiction instead of with her. It was just… the things that he'd said. The things that she had said. Not meaning to ask… just slipping out. A question that had betrayed all of her thoughts in the very instant that she'd managed to speak it:
"Is B okay?"
Stopping the easy flow of banter. Erasing his smile.
"Didn't think you cared."
"I asked, didn't I?"
Something sounding hostile in the room before Faith had been able to make a grab at it. The sneer that crossed her lips in her only worn out defence against the many other things that her mouth might've said - that single gaze of Xander's that had told her he wasn't prepared to back down either.
"Yeah Faith, you did. Can you deal with the honest answer though?"
A shrug. A whatever. Deeper than that.
"She's not so good. She's not - look, I don't understand everything that's going on with you and Buffy, but if this is all just some kind of revenge thing… if all you're trying to do is to hurt her, then well done. Great job Faith. She's hurting. You win."
The honest answer not being softened with a return to his easy smile and the fun filled banter. Nothing soft for Faith.
"She hurt me first."
The thing that had torn his gaze away. That had forced her to sit through fifteen minutes where silence and memories were her only companion.
And she was still trying. Every single fucked up minute, just trying to rip away the truth from the lies, trying to see through the four years of coma filled sedation and understand what the fuck anything meant. Because Faith didn't know. She didn't understand. Never raised with arms that had held her close and shown her the security that could exist in the feeling; just grabbed and groped by arms that had only ever shown her how to run. How to flee. How to block out any emotion that spoke anything other than hate.
Truly, honestly, so broken beneath the hate.
Swallowing the fear to keep facing the demons. Turning now to step timid to the bed - to keep her end afloat. To put trust in the friendship that had grown between herself and Xander.
"I wasn't trying to hurt her."
His gaze leaving fiction to listen to her facts.
"This… everything… you don't know how fucked up it is. I'm not - I don't mean the stuff from before, Xander. Sunnydale stuff. I mean now stuff… since I woke up. It's all fucked up."
"It's messed up for Buffy too."
"Then she messed it up - I didn't ask for this. Coulda left me at the bottom of the dust pit and I wouldn't have given a shit. Why didn't she just follow the rules? Why the fuck has she always gotta be pushing?"
"I think you probably know why."
"Yeah, cos of some dumb superhero complex. Doesn't want poor old me reminding her that she's not always perfect, that she can't always win."
Faith could see his jaw working again. The grinding of teeth that was holding his face tight, the single staring eye that was offering no respite from a conversation that was weeks in the making. And she got that. Had been surprised at how long he'd been able to hold off from taking the other side.
"What? You telling me I'm wrong?"
"I'd tell you you're an idiot if I thought it'd make a difference."
"An idiot?"
"You have your moments."
"She has her moments too."
Something stubborn forcing her up from the bed with her own need to not back down. To confront the side that Xander was taking: "All this was her, ain't no way the blame's biting my ass this time. I was happy to stay away, I didn't wanna deal with her shit anymore."
"I thought you were meant to be dealing."
"What? You're stealing lines from Angel now - can't come up with your own shit to say?"
And even though her words were coated in acid, Faith could still sense that this was somehow new. She could feel the itching of the issues that were always there to haunt her, but she wasn't feeling the same biting rage that went along with them. Not needing to pound Xander, not needing to rip the tongue from his throat to have him shutting up. Maybe wishing for it, but knowing that she wouldn't be doing it. Just breathing. Just taking a second to make it sit calm - to silence insanity.
The drawn out sigh signalling her return. Finding that his gaze was still intent on pinning her down. Waiting for his words. Already knowing what they would be:
"You kissed her, Faith…"
Because there was nothing in that about staying away. Maybe the first time - so sure that the act would have Buffy screaming with revulsion - but the second time…
"…and that's not how us regular folk like to say `stay away'."
"Well she wouldn't quit with the yapping. Tried smacking her mouth shut, but she wouldn't stop whining. That's all the kiss was."
"Really?"
The second time was something else.
The thing that had ripped away the boundaries to remind Faith of what every single tinted pink and dipping green had ever meant. Provoking the dream. The taste that had driven her so far past crazy… so far past anywhere. Nothing about shutting up.
"Really. Don't know what the fuck B was up for, but I was just trying to keep the sitch simple. It was `sposed to end the bullshit, not…"
"What?"
"I dunno. Told ya Xander, it's all fucked up."
And she shrugged again. Maybe softened the gesture with something like a smile; her teeth breaking through the moment to nibble nervously along her lip. "You should go ask B - she's the one that took it someplace else."
Someplace shrouded in the feeling that made Faith want to run. Remembering the tingle down her spine that the hands in her hair had provoked; the way that lips had touched hers so softly… so heart- achingly gentle. Making her wonder. Leaving her scared.
"I never asked for that. I don't want that."
"You're sure about that?"
And Xander had left the bed too - left the comics behind. Intensifying Faith's need to flee. Strengthening her desire to be different. To stay still and face up. Not moving away as he found the space that felt like close… not being a wiseass just to make him shut up.
"I'm pretty sure it's fucked up. You know the deal, you know it can't ever be anything different. B's just dreaming if she thinks this has a happy ending."
"Don't you want the happy ending, Faith?"
"Ain't mine to have. Stunts I've pulled, I'll be touching a thousand `fore I ever get the chance to square things away."
And that was how it felt. That was why there was anguish in her dreams instead of just the peace and tranquillity that the shared vision had dared her to remember. No easy words of forgiveness having her sleeping better at night - not stopping the same old shakes that had woken afresh at the end of the coma. No. Putting it all on show for Xander. Wondering what words he would find to make that scenario sound better.
"I've pulled some stunts too."
Nothing that she was expecting.
"Yeah, you're a regular Evel Knievel. Musta missed all the action while I was catching my Z's."
"Okay, so I didn't go all big with insanity and try to end the world; but I did some things I'm not so proud of. I hurt someone that I love, too."
And Faith had already heard this one.
"Demon chick?"
"Ex-demon chick. And yes - Anya. I told you how that one went down, and I don't see how it's any less bad than anything you did. Less bloody maybe, but no less bad."
"Think it's the bloody that makes the difference."
"No, it's the outcome that makes the difference. At the end of the day Faith, none of the bad stuff even mattered. It never stopped me loving Anya, and it never stopped her loving me. That was all that really mattered."
"Right. Cos you get left with the heartbreak, and she's not here to pick up the pieces. Sounds dreamy."
Harshness re-entering her tone. Her fingers tapping out a rhythm of dissatisfaction along her arms as she folded them tight across her chest. Still scared of what beat inside. Still safer to deny and defy, than it was to accept the feeling.
"Is that what this is?"
And now what?
"Huh?"
"You're pissed at Buffy cos she's leaving? You want her to stay?"
"Like fuck I do."
"That's how it sounds to my untrained ear; like this goes just as deep for you as it does for her. Makes my point about Anya a whole lot more pointy."
And Faith wanted to rebuke, wanted to shout down words of nonsense with words of sense, but she had no words left. Not harsh ones or soft ones. Had only eyes that opened further, that took their turn to pin down Xander and silently demand the more:
"I'm not gonna deny Faith, that I'm left with a lot of the heartbreak - I loved her. I still do love her. I'm willing to bet that I'll always have a place in my heart that's only there for Anya; but I can promise you now, scout's honour, that I'd be a whole lot more heartbroken if we hadn't made our peace. If she'd gone without me telling her how I still felt - how I'll always feel."
Still no words.
"It's not too late, Faith. You've still got a chance to make things right before Buffy goes."
"No chance."
Spoken on autopilot.
"Then you really are an idiot. I said I didn't understand, and I don't - wouldn't have called it, not in a million years - but I know that what Buffy feels for you is real. I've seen her Faith, I've heard her speak the words, and if you're prepared to just throw that away, to act like it's something that doesn't even matter to you, then you're less than an idiot."
"Guess that's the way it is then."
Back in control. Holding the line of defence. Not wanting to hear more words, not needing to hear more sense. Already knowing without the vocalisation that this was something that twisted deep inside. Always had been. Always would be.
"Figure an idiot's better than a fuck up. Gotta call it an improvement…"
Not stopping as Xander pushed himself away from her side to gather up his comics. Clearing the bed of the easy distraction; not meeting her eyes anymore as he shrugged himself into his jacket.
"…and ya know, with B - I really hope she gets her shit together, I do; just don't wanna be anywhere close to the shit myself. I'm done with the crazies."
"I'm outta here."
"You're going?"
Stating the obvious.
"Yes, I am. Because Buffy does matter to me; she matters a whole lot to me. Tomorrow she's leaving and I don't have a clue when I'm gonna get the chance to see her again. Heck, I don't even know what I'm doing here anyway - what I thought I'd be able to achieve."
Stating the disappointment.
"Xander…"
"No. We're buds Faith, we're tight - but you are an idiot, and you're also full of crap. Buffy's getting on a plane in less than a day, she's going to England - doesn't that mean anything to you?"
"Means she won't be getting in my face anymore."
"That's right Faith. She won't."
Her eyes following his back as he walked stiff to the elevator. Her teeth the ones grinding now to keep it all in.
"You'll call me tomorrow?"
Forced to keep it all in as he left without smiling.
And Faith got that also. She got all of it. But it didn't change a thing. It couldn't change a thing. Buffy gone was all that she wanted - a chance at freedom was all that she wanted. And if her dreams spoke different? If they spoke of peace and patience, trust and understanding?
Then she would sink silently down to the bed that now sat empty. She would gather up her knees, she would hold herself close; and she would release tears on a feeling that had only ever made her want to turn tail and run.
The next morning brought a franticness that wouldn't have surprised anyone who had watched the way that Buffy had been dragging her feet over all of the plans for leaving LA. The very last one to pack her bag. The very last one left standing in her room and casting eyes over the meagreness that summed up the whole of her life. Less than a bagful really. Nothing to take away except for the memories of the past and a few of her new bought clothing essentials.
Denting her already severe lack of happy. Barely keeping her ears open to the steady babble of Willow who was sat watching from the bed. Not really remembering that a conversation took two to make it an actual conversation.
"…And I've said sorry again, but I don't know, Buffy. I acted like such an ass. Worse than an - hey, are you listening to me?"
Just glad to have some sound in the background. A voice that had done its best to project contrite, a voice that had wrapped its words around sorry so many times, that Buffy hadn't been able to do anything other than accept. Glad to accept. To push aside all of the nightmare scenarios and at least pretend that the world still sat steady.
"Buffy?"
Because if the world sat steady, then maybe she could stand steady. Maybe she would be able to straighten her shoulders again and march forward into the world without sinking down into the depression that thinking about-
"Sorry Will, what was you saying?"
Grabbing at steadiness.
"Kennedy. I really think I might have blown it for us. I just can't believe that I was acting so-"
"It'll be fine, you know she loves you. And sure, you haven't been the kind, caring, and considerate Willow that we all know and love… but everyone has their off-weeks. She'll be ready to slip and slide again before you even know it."
"Slip and slide? I was hoping more for the snugglies."
"Well snugglies then. She'll be ready for snuggly time before you know it."
The impish smile back on Willow's face. Buffy's face staying plain to chase away the anguish that wanted to sit there. The regret about the snuggles that she would never know. And of course, the whole slipping and sliding thing. When Kennedy had first mentioned it, it had tantalised her senses. Now it just hurt.
"You do know how sorry I am, don't you Buffy?"
A lot. Pushing it aside to be strong. To be Buffy.
"You mean from the six thousand times that you've already said it? I think I got the gist Will, and you know I'm not holding a grudge. Everything's been crazy - you were just joining in."
"That's the nice way of putting it."
"It's my way of putting it, and you have to agree or I'm likely to go postal. I'm pretty good at doing crazy too."
But no matter how hard she tried, Buffy still couldn't help but show the signs of all of the hurt. Her eyes starting to mist as they flitted again over all of the nothing that she had thrown into her bag; her sigh filling the room with the sound of her sorrow. And she could do this. Had so much experience at pushing aside the things that hurt, in favour of things that meant something, that it was just practiced routine that had her turning and bending to pick up the scythe; looking to Willow with the small plea for fun.
"You think I'll be allowed to bring this as carry-on?"
"Are you kidding?"
"Not entirely. I know you're not allowed nail clippers, or scissors…"
"…or hairspray Buffy; not even the environmentally safe kind."
"Exactly. But this isn't any of that. It seems way too risky to pack it in my case."
"Oh Goddess! Imagine Giles if they lost it? With the noises, and the glasses… I don't think he'd be able to make it through the turmoil."
"So it's carry-on?"
"I say take the risk. If anyone argues, I'll bend their perception: What to us is a weapon of world saveage, will to them be nothing but a harmless old… something. Hmmm, I should probably work on that. Any ideas on what the glamour could be?"
"Glamorous?"
"Helpful. I guess I could go with umbrella; what with the dimensions and our destination, it seems totally possible that you'd be carrying-"
The fun knocked sideways by the knock on the door. A firm tap. No pause for an answer. Xander the one who was there to bring interruption and instruction, carrying his words into the room with subdued in his smile.
"It's getting time to roll. Giles wants me to bring down your bag Buffy, it's the last one to go on the bus."
"Right."
Back to business. Back to feeling the emptiness as she lifted up her bag and handed it to Xander. Not so much left inside. Nothing for Buffy to focus upon, except the steady rhythm of placing one foot in front of the other. Trailing behind, still dragging her feet. Still wondering what had happened to the missing beat in her chest.
No more Xander to guard her heart. No more…
…no more Faith to remind her of what it was her heart was there for.
Not much of anything really.
Something that Buffy had cried on and accepted. She had done her best - there was nothing else that she felt she could have done to have the situation resolving any differently. She had put it all in Faith's hands, and Faith had pushed her away. That was all. That was the end. And those were the melancholic thoughts that Buffy was so lost in thinking, that she had switched off from taking any notice of direction. Letting her feet follow blindly behind Xander and Willow; just turning corners and taking steps. Her yelp of pain quite audible as she slammed into the backs that had stopped fast in front of her:
"Ow! Guys! Is there any special reason that you're trying to break my nose?"
The shock less audible, but no less jarring, as the backs turned to face her and the space was made for her gaze to see. What had stopped them. Why there needed to be a commotion.
"Figure that's on account of me. Guess this is a surprise, right?"
Faith.
As in…
"Faith?"
"Heard you guys were checking out today. Angel wanted me to settle the bill, collect the cash - make sure you haven't trashed the place."
And if this was to be the final `what the fuck' moment that would occur in LA, then it would hold the honour of being the biggest shock of `what the fuck' in Buffy's entire life. Her thoughts so sure that this was something that would so never happen, that the possibility hadn't even blipped a signal on her radar. Hope had left her building.
So what the hell was Faith doing in it?
Pushing past her friends to complete her journey down the stairs. Slowly but surely. Remembering the straight shoulders, remembering how to hold herself steady.
"What are you doing here?"
"Told ya. Angel wanted me to-"
"Cut the crap, Faith. What do you want?"
No time left to play at placation, to make the soft roads for Faith to travel. Buffy had given her all and she had not much else to give. A scythe, a plane ticket…
Just trying to breathe as her friends found her side again; Willow bristling with a face most displeased, Xander letting out words that made no kind of sense:
"You gave up on being an idiot then?"
"Wouldn't say that. Some things are too hard to give up."
"You look like you're doing okay. We'll take it slow, I can be your sponsor…"
No time left to wonder what the heck was happening. Breaking through any covers of brainless banter to have Faith's eyes finding hers again. Direct. To the point. Making Buffy want answers. Holding onto defences to keep the hurt from haunting her words.
"I asked what you're doing here?"
"Got stuff to say."
"You want to talk? Is this some kind of joke? You do know that I'm leaving in…"
Looking to Xander.
"You've got about fifteen minutes tops `til Giles goes ballistic. I'll take your stuff out, offer a distraction. "
Handing over the scythe in a daze. Because it was okay to tell herself that she could be steady, that she could face Faith with nothing in mind but short and sharp sentences; but the truth was that she was already struggling. Already biting her tongue to stop from taking that one last shot at the something different. Letting Xander walk away with her bag and the scythe and a goofy kind of smile. Offering a lesser smile in return as Willow had dragged herself away with the last of her own words still tainted with warning:
"Lay one more finger on her Faith, and I promise you won't have fingers left to play with."
Like a layer of something distasteful settling over the lobby. Signalling the witch's departure. Signalling another moment where it would be just the two of them. Kind of. No protection from the eyes of the gathering slayers; from the eyes of a younger sister who was wondering at what the last minute excitement might be.
"You think that was Red's idea of a heartfelt goodbye?"
And Faith. Not a shred of protection from the eyes of Faith.
"Is that why you're here? For heartfelt goodbyes?"
"Never said that. Got stuff that needs saying, figure it's now or never."
"Now's good."
Buffy's arms crossing her chest without direction from her mind. Her fingers starting to tap with what felt like impatience.
"Now… right. Can we do this in private?"
"You want privacy?"
"Unless you wanna lay it all out in front of an audience? Not my style, but if that's what you want."
Feeling all of the eyes. All of the stares.
"Is your version of privacy likely to cause bruising?"
"Valid question, answer's no. I'm not here to rough you up B, I meant what I said: got stuff to say. Should probably get moving if I'm gonna say it `fore you go."
And it was enough to move Buffy. Taking the lead again. Letting Faith fall into step behind her as she showed the way to the rooms. To her own room. Empty now. Pausing as she pushed open the door, breathing deep as she waited for Faith to follow her in. Almost like she was still living in that same `what the fuck' moment… no clue. No shoe dropping to fill her in on what exactly was happening. Like she was only ever destined to be waiting for Faith.
"I've probably got about five minutes left… what's the stuff that needs to be said?"
A slight hint of curious raising her tone at the last. Softening it a little. Inviting an answer. Not getting the answer as Faith instead looked to map out the dimensions of the room with her fast falling footsteps. Moving around Buffy. Bypassing obstacles. Almost as if she could walk her way around the things that she had come there to say.
And Buffy had made a vow about no more hiding.
"Four minutes."
Her fingers now tapping the same beat as the clock, her mouth not being able to resist making the smallest of smiles in response to Faith's sudden stop and turn. The pained look that had appeared upon her face.
"I'm not good at this."
"I think I'm getting that. Just spit it out; pretend I'm not here and get right to the point."
"You being here kinda was the point. Or it was Xander's point. I'm starting to see now that the guy makes sense - well, most times; still not sold on the whole Hulk deal. Green chump's never coming close to beating Superman's ass…"
"Faith… the point, please?"
"The point. Shit. Look B, you get that I hate you, right?"
And she had held her breath and walked the steps for this? For the same level of crap that would cause the same level of hurt, sent from the exact same mouth? It was a lot for anyone to take. Even Buffy.
"I think I'm getting a mutual feeling. You came to tell me you hate me? Again? I'm leaving Faith… I'm going. I'm out of here, across the pond… five thousand miles of staying away…"
Fighting to keep her voice even.
"…what more do you want? God, I'm done with this. Finished. You hate me - that's great. I doubt you'll ever have to see me again, so it's all worked out well. I'm really happy for you - if hating me makes you feel good, then really, I'm happy for you."
"Damn, B. You work long on that?"
"I'm not joking Faith, I'm officially sick of whatever game you think you're here to play. I've got it. You hate me. Can I go now?"
Silence greeting her request.
And Buffy wouldn't care anymore. Not about clocks and two minutes, or anything other than the fact that it felt like she had taken back some of the control. And it felt kind of good. A lot good. Already moving her feet to move around Faith. The smile starting to drop as she felt fingers grip hard on her arm to hold her in place.
"Said I had stuff to say."
"And I sa