To the Stars and Back
by Taz
Rating: R
Disclaimer: I don't own any of them; the great god Whedon does. I'm not rich, so it's not worth your time suing me. I promise to put your lovely characters right back where I found them, once I've finished playing with them. Scout's honour.
Timeline: Takes place during, and after, Dirty Girls, S7. See dialogue, above story. The piece takes in some of the actual in the series, but is largely a work of fiction, and so the timelines/storylines from BTVS may be a little screwed - call it journalese.
Genre: F/F slash. If you don't like Sapphic content, you're too young to read it, or it's illegal where you are, stop reading now and go some place else with my warmest wishes.
Feedback: Sure - gimme all you got. If it's criticism, make it constructive - if you're into flaming, don't waste your time or mine.
POV: Faith
FAITH: I've met you before, you know.
SPIKE: Yeah, you made a great impression on my chin.
FAITH: Not in the graveyard. Before that. I was kinda wearing a different body.
SPIKE: Pity.
FAITH: You seemed OK with it.
SPIKE: (realising) The body swap. With Buffy.
FAITH: She fill you in on that whole deal?
SPIKE: She told me it went down. Failed to mention who was driving her skin around.
FAITH: I may have said a few things...
SPIKE: Like you could ride me at a gallop 'til my knees buckle, squeeze me 'til I pop like warm champagne. That's not the kind of thing a man forgets.
FAITH: Should've known it wasn't blondie behind the wheel. She'd never throw down like that.
SPIKE: Oh, you *have* been away.
FAITH: Don't even tell me little Miss Tightly-Wound's been getting her naughty on?!?!
SPIKE: Not of late.
FAITH: Wow. Everybody's just full of surprises.
(Buffy arrives, glares)
FAITH: Hey, B.
BUFFY: Well, it's nice to see you two getting along so well.
FAITH: Yeah. Uh, you just know all the cool vampires.
CHAPTER ONE: Against the clock.
So, that's it then. I always knew B was cold, but I figured her penchant for cold-blooded screws was limited to Angel. No wonder I never got a look-in - always was kind of alive. At least on the outside.
I lean back on the porch, taking a deep, lung-full of cig smoke. I feel it drawing into my body and find some comfort in the burning sensation as it floods my chest. Slowly, I breathe out, watching as the smoke swirls into the night sky. If I concentrate real hard, I can make shapes from it - kinda like I used to do with clouds. Me and mom used to lie back on the flat roof in summer time, she'd reach up and point out dragons, castles and fairytale shapes. I'd always point at the furthest cloud and ask if it was where God lived. She'd smile and pull me into a big hug, call me her little firecracker and kiss the top of my head. That was before 'Uncle Tom' came along, bringing a whole gang of guys with him for mom to get up-close-and-personal with - Jack and Jim were her favourites - mom always was a sucker for a good malt.
My mind soon wanders back to the present. FUCK YOU, B! To think, I broke out of the can for you. Yeah, I know, big apocalypse, yada, yada, yada. Sure, I came back to defeat the nasty demons. You're my Goddamn demon, B! My angel, my demon; depends what mood I'm in. Right now, you're definitely listed under 'big bad'.
For a few seconds there, I actually wanted to hurt Spike. Like it's his fault? I coulda finished him, right there and then; until I saw the look in his eyes. Pretty sure that's the same look I get. Screwed him over good, didn't ya, Goldilocks? Poor bastard gets a soul, only to fall in love with the great, untouchable Buffy. Damn, you must be on one hell of an ego trip. Least you had the decency to give him a taste though, B... Dead Boy Mark II got plenty more than me.
What was it, B? Don't tell me you didn't feel it - it was powerful, B, what we had. You'd walk into a room and I'd get little electric shocks down my spine; they'd start right at the top and head south, way, way down south. You know what I'm sayin', B. You knew me, inside and out, and I knew you. We were connected, and you just turned your oh-so-perfect fucking back.
I needed you, B. I still do. And you need me. Why the hell else would I be here?
Shit! I look down at my smoke and see the smouldering end edging closer to my fingers. I flick it away quickly, a reflex to my flesh burning. Ouch! I wave my fingers about in the air, trying to cool the scorched tips.
And that's when she appears.
"Fearless, renegade slayer being beaten by a cigarette butt, Faith? Thought all those years in the pen would've toughened you up."
She's trying to be funny, but there's no humour in her voice.
"Fuck you, B."
All I wanted was a little me time, y'know? Can't she even let me have that?
"That's not a nice way to speak to your landlady, F."
What does she want? Blood? Probably needs it to feed her latest lover. Who is it this time? Dracula?
I say it again: "Fuck you, B."
This time, she gets pissed. So, goody-two-shoes does have a heart. "Faith, do we really have to keep on doing this? We don't have time right now. We might not even survive this time. We need to concentrate on The First."
"Sure thing, B. Whatever. Never had time for 'us' before - why start now?"
I light up another smoke and lean back, staring up at the stars. She can't help it. Has to break my silence again.
"What's that supposed to mean, Faith?"
I slowly exhale, watching the smoke swim towards the stars. "C'mon, B; you really wanna do this now? When the world's pro'bly about the end? Pretty shitty timing, don't ya think."
Either she's got Sunnydale's best poker face, or she's totally clueless. Could go either way.
Finally, she speaks: "Are you talking about Finch?"
All this time, and the name still makes me flinch. A Finch-flinch. I smile at my own joke, despite myself. I'm going with the latter. She's clueless. "Guess that's part of it, B. But it's only a tiny part. Like a molecule, or somethin'." I decide to push my luck. I mean, hey, what's a girl got to lose? Chances are, we'll all be dead in a week or so anyway. "I'm talkin' 'bout 'us', B. What we had. What we could've had. What we never got the chance to have. What you tried to push away when you turned your back on me." I square my jaw and swallow. Damn those tears. I will NOT allow them to make their debut now.
B reels a little. "There never was an 'us', Faith. I tried to be your friend, I wanted to be, but it was never enough for you..."
"Bullshit, B!" I stand up and pace about the porch. Gotta do something to hide these freakin' tears. Christ, she makes me so fuckin' crazy!
"It's not bullshit, Faith," she says, calm as a warm breeze, "I-I just... I'm not... I never was, Faith."
Huh? Am I supposed to be psychic now? "You're not what, B?"
I almost buckle when I turn to see her chewing on her lip, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. Is this what I do to her? I'm about to give up and go inside when she speaks up again: "You-you just wanted too much. I tried, I wanted to... but I wasn't ready, Faith."
I turn and take a few steps, so I'm standing behind her: "Weren't ready for what?"
Seems B's on a roll now: "You drew a heart on the window. That necklace you gave me. The way you looked at me. The way you danced with me..."
"Way I remember it, I wasn't the only one dancing, B..."
I watch her put her head in her hands. Her shoulders seem like balled up masses of knots - she's so tense; like she's carrying the weight of the world. I guess she is. I sit down next to her, looking straight ahead. Pretty sure I'm not ready for eyeballing. Not yet.
"Faith, I can't do this now. There's too much going on - I have to focus. I can't focus on you as well..."
I snap. I know I shouldn't, but it's hard not to when you can still feel that knife being twisted in your gut.
"You could focus with Spike."
She looks up. Her bottom lip's quivering and her eyes show surprise: "Spike? He told you that?"
I nod, solemnly, and breathe out another cloud of smoke.
She reaches out, puts a hand on my knee: "The thing. With Spike. It wasn't recent, Faith."
I shrug: "No big, B. None of mine, y'know..."
Her grip tightens on my leg: "Spike tried to rape me, Faith? Did he tell you that?"
I feel the wind being knocked out of me and fight the urge to vomit. He tried to hurt B? I'd kill better men for less... I turn to her, throwing the cigarette into the street. The eyeballing thing happens. I try to speak, but no noise comes out.
"It's okay," she says, trying to calm me, "it's in the past. I-I just wanted you to know. It's not black and white..."
"B, I - I had no idea..."
"Gathered as much," she says, sniffing. And then she really shocks me: "It's been so hard, Faith. Without you. So much has happened. I wish we had more time - I, just, we don't. We can't do this now."
I feel a hand cupping my cheek, fingers softly stroking my face. It takes a minute to register that it's B's hand. I reach up to touch and end up holding her hand in mine, pulling it down between us: "I'm sorry, B."
I don't know what else to say. I'm trying to think of something, when the door closes behind us and I heard the sound of a match being struck. "This a private affair, or can anybody join in?" a male voice asks.
Before I can think, I'm on my feet, and my hand is around Spike's throat, pinning him to the house. There's a cracking sound as some of the wooden paneling gives way.
B's behind me in a flash, her hand on my shoulder: "Faith, don't," she says, her voice velvety soft.
I relax a little, stopping only to spit in the bastard's face before letting him fall. "So much as try to lay a finger on her again, and I swear you'll feel every agonising pain known to man before I turn you to dust".
I hear my own words and can't quite believe the venom behind them. I take a step back and throw one last look to B before going inside. I hope it tells her everything I'm feeling, but I'm not sure you can squeeze that much into one glance.
CHAPTER TWO: A friend in need?
I don't feel like company tonight. A few quiet words in Rhona's shell-like and the wannabes have all found new places to crash. Amazing how much you can achieve with the promise of a break from Kennedy's training routine and a trip to the Bronze. I crank the window open a little and lie back on the bed. I sit up after a few and rummage around in my rucksack for Gentleman Jack - guess I did pick up a few things from mom, after all. I pour myself a nice slug into a plastic beaker and force the bottle back into hiding - just wouldn't do for people to know about my stash.
I'm just about to take a swig when I hear someone at the door. It's a real soft knock, and I'm pretty sure none of the potentials would be bothering me under the circumstances. There's no slayer tingle, so it ain't B; which leaves just one option. "Come on in, Red," I call.
The door opens and her head appears. She cautiously steps into the room and closes the door behind her. "Got a few spare minutes to talk, Faith?" she asks.
I nod and motion to the spare bed. Red takes a seat, smiling nervously.
"How you doing, Faith?" she asks, looking around the room before finally settling her gaze on my beverage, "settling in okay?"
I smile and swish the warm whiskey around in my mouth. It feels good, warming my throat en route to my stomach. "Out with it, Red, I say, "you sure as hell didn't come over here to check on my health. Spill it."
Her face straightens and she takes a breath. "It's about Buffy."
She has my attention. I sit up straight and deposit Jack on the bedside table. "She okay?" I ask, seriously.
"Not from what I see," she answers honestly.
"Go on..."
"What did you say to her, Faith?" her tone is verging on accusatory, "I mean, I know we're fighting the end of the world and all, but she's in pieces. I've never seen her like this - not even after Angel..."
Red's words sink in, and for a few, fleeting seconds I'm the happiest ex-con on the planet. She's more upset over me than Dead Boy? That means she...the look on Red's face stops me in my tracks. This must be what B calls her "resolve face." I wipe away the smile threatening to burst out. "What's wrong with her?"
"You tell me, Faith."
"I dunno." I glance up, "Hey, is your hair changin' colour?" Damn, Red looks pissed.
"Faith, Buffy is my best friend. She, Xander and Giles are my family. You hurt them, you hurt me."
I feel unseen hands tightening around my throat.
"I should be careful with magicks, Faith. I almost destroyed the world, you know; when you were locked away. I was addicted - it was like a drug, Faith."
The grip's tightening. I move my hands to my throat, but there's nothing to prise away. I feel myself being lifted off the bed, pressed into a corner. Red's smiling.
"If I use my powers, Faith, I could lose control. Kill people, just like that. You can stop struggling, Slayer, there's nothing you can do." She stands up and walks over to me. I try to kick out, but she moves just out of reach, grinning and cocking her head to one side: "Now, wanna tell me what you did to Buffy?"
I try to speak, but no words leave my mouth. I choke, wheezing as I try to take breath. Red waves her hand and the grip loosens a little: "I'd never hurt B!" I manage to squeak. The grip starts to tighten. I feel as though my eyeballs are about to pop outa my head. Red just looks at me, waiting for me to explain myself. "I love her," I cough.
Just like that, the vice-like grip is gone and I fall to the bed, coughing and rubbing my throat. Red's at my side like a shot.
"Oh goddess; Faith, I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Let me see?"
I swat away her hands and reach for the Jack. I try to swallow, but its usual soothing effect is gone - instead, I just cough more. Red waves her hand again and the whiskey turns to water.
"Drink," she commands.
I drink.
"Feel any better?"
I nod.
And then, the Red I know is back in the room, babbling like the awkward, high-school geek I remember: "I'm sorry, Faith. I had no idea. I mean, I did - I remember the way you two used to look at each other. I wondered whether anything had happened, but Buffy told me that was stupid talk."
I look up at her, wondering whether to hug her for noticing or kick her ass for half killing me. I decide to stay put.
"Have you told her how you feel?" she finally asks.
I take a deep breath - both to recover from the strangulation and to prepare myself for a conversation I never thought I'd be having. Not with Red, at least.
"Kinda. I was pissed at her. Spike told me about the two of them and it made me feel sick. She can fuck dead guys, but not me? B said there was never an 'us'."
Red's shaking her head: "That's not true, Faith - any idiot could see how she felt about you. But you have to give her time - she's always been Buffy-the-man-magnet, you know? You saw Riley - you know what she was trying to be. What she is trying to be."
I nodded. Yeah, I'd seen just about everything there was to see of corn-fed, Iowa soldier boy. Real home-grown beefcake. Shame about the lack of brainpower.
Red reaches out to put a hand on my arm: "Faith, she freaked out when she first found out about Tara and I, but she came around. Don't get me wrong, I love Buffy to pieces... not like that - promise. Well, maybe once at high school, but that was just a crush. She was the first person to notice me without wanting me to do her homework or use me as a doormat, so it was only natural to feel..."
I stop her mid-babble: "S'okay Red, I know you're not lookin' to jump B's bones. Okay?"
She colours a little, then starts again: "Oh. Okay. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that Buffy's not used to dealing with this stuff - stuff that's not textbook. She's all 'Responsibility-Buffy'. It's been that way since Joyce died - Buffy was on her own for a while, looking after Dawn and the house and everything - and now the First is back, and she has all these girls to look after."
I drain the rest of the water and lean back: "So what now? You're her best friend - what should I do?"
She shrugs: "Talk to her. Be patient and don't expect anything. If I were in your shoes, I'd just be honest - it's not like you have much to lose."
Those goddamned tears threaten to spill again. When did I become so soft? "I could lose her," I manage.
I don't even notice Red moving towards me until her arms are around me. I almost shrug her off for a second, but her words stop me: "Don't even think about pushing me away, Faith. We all need friends - 'specially now. Anyway, I figure we're on even footing with our pasts now - that makes us equals. Now quit playing the hardass and hug me back."
10.38pm. Mr Daniels is now seriously depleted. Red left the room about a half hour ago, and I've been here, stewing in my juices ever since. This certainly rates somewhere in the top ten fucked-up Sunnydale days. Yep, demons, vampires, mayors turning into giant slugs... reckon today tops the lot. Why? Because on every other one of those Godforsaken occasions, even if I fucked-up royally, I knew exactly what to do. Call it instinct. Call it Slayer power. Whatever. This time, I might as well be pissing on hellfire for all the good it'd do. It's a useless, confusing, tangled-up sack full of shit.
I top up the beaker again and light up another smoke. Footsteps outside the door. Now what.
"Whoever's out there, either come the fuck in or get lost."
The door opens. It's Red. Again. Apparently, my new best friend. Hugging. There's something new. Or, at least, hugging that doesn't lead to a quick roll between the sheets. Red? No way - not my type.
Anyway, she's in the room now. I cock my head, asking what's up.
"Thought you ought to know," she says, a shit-eating grin threatening to explode all over her face, "There's been a bit of a reorganisation with the sleeping arrangements."
"Yeah?" I ask, "C'mon Red, I wanted some Faith time - please don't tell me you've stuck another bunch of spotty, pansy-ass teenagers in my digs..."
She starts to laugh, but quickly slaps a hand over her mouth and wipes away the mirth. "Not exactly, but Buffy will be sharing with you tonight. Just you and her. No interruptions..."
No. Please, someone tell me the witch is pulling my chain. "You gotta be shittin' me, Red - after everything we talked about? Are you trying to ruin my life?"
Red takes another step into the room and sits next to me on the bed.
"Faith, I talked with Buffy. You need to talk to each other - she knows that. And she knows about the sleeping arrangements. Trust me?"
I shrug: "Doesn't really matter if the end of the world is nigh."
She grins and punches me lightly on the shoulder: "Don't think I can't kick your butt, just 'cause you're a big, mean slayer," she teases.
I pick her up, sling her over my shoulder and deposit her neatly outside the door: "Beat it," I say, smiling, "I gotta clean this pigsty up in the woman of my dreams is comin' to stay."
I hear her mutter something I don't understand as I close the door. Sounds like Latin or somethin'. When I turn around, the room's tidier than I've ever seen it. The beds are made with crisp, clean sheets. My clothes are neatly folded or hanging in the wardrobe. The room smells of something I recognise from my slayer training... patchouli? Whatever, it smells nice. Oh, and the finishing touch? There's a bottle of wine and two glasses on the bedside table. I shake my head, smiling inwardly.
Thanks, Red.
11.05pm. My senses are on fire. I've showered, changed into fresh, blue jeans and a white vest top, and I've paced around the room, must be a thousand times now. From the rucksack, I've pulled out a plastic bag holding precisely 53 and a half letters. They're all to B. Love letters, I suppose, or apologies - usually a combination of the two. Telling her exactly how I feel. The first one was written about three weeks after our first meeting, the last one - the half one - I was writing in my cell, the day I broke out. I didn't know what to do with them when I'd written them - no way was I gonna send them to B, so I kept 'em. Every last one. Now, well, maybe they'll get to her after all. Guess we'll see.
Oh shit, my spine's tingling. That means she's close. I check myself in the mirror one last time. I wanna look different tonight - cleaner. Hence the white. There's less make-up, too - still eye make-up (reckon they're my best asset - gotta make the most of 'em) but less than normal, and a little more ...how did Red describe it? Oh yeah, neutral.
She's at the door. She's knocking on it. I panic. Oh God! I pace between my bed and the spare... oh shit! That'll be her bed. She'll be sleeping a few feet away from me! I check my reflection again.
Another knock at the door. "Faith? You in there?" She sounds hesitant, nervous. Her breathing's different to normal - I can hear it.
Finally, I force my stupid legs to the door and let her in. "Sorry B," I say, forcing back a smartass remark and remembering what Red told me about honesty, "Guess I'm a little nervous."
She walks past me, dropping a small night bag on the spare bed. "You're nervous?" she asks.
I close the door and walk across to my bed, sitting lightly on the edge. I nod. "Yeah, I guess I am," I admit.
She sniffs the air. "Patchouli," she says. "Willow."
I nod. "Yeah, she was here earlier. We said a lot of stuff. Cleared the air. I think we're cool now. Not that I deserve it..."
B shakes her head: "History's in the past, Faith, where it belongs."
"But that history's part of who we are, B. We can't just wipe the slate without even talking about it."
"Why?"
It's a simple enough question. I'm not sure how to answer. "'Cause Red thinks we need to be honest with each other, and I'm not sure we can be without clearing up some of that shit."
I hear her swallow. "Did Will leave the wine?"
"Yeah."
"Think we should open it? I could do with a little Dutch courage before this conversation..."
I think for a second: "I dunno B. If we're gonna do this, I need to know we're serious. I don't wanna worry about you not remembering stuff in the morning, or you being under the influence."
B laughs, then snorts, then holds her hand up to her nose and mouth, like she always does when a little piggy sound escapes. I've always found it kinda cute. She blushes a little, then reaches for the wine and pours two glasses: "Faith," she reassures, "It's wine. I think I'll still be able to function properly after a glass."
The light, sparkly fluid fills the first glass and she hands it to me, before pouring a glass for herself. She raises it to her lips, but I stop her before she drinks.
"Wait, aren't we supposed to say something before we drink it, like a toast?"
She nods. "Okay, what to?"
I think for a moment. 'To us' sounds way too lame and a little desperate. "How about new beginnings?" I ask.
"To new beginnings" she says, chinking her glass against mine. She smiles with her eyes and takes a sip.
We both sit for a while. Man, this feels so awkward.
Finally, B breaks the silence: "Thought you wanted to keep level headed..." she says, looking at my glass.
Shit! How did that get empty so soon?
I look up at her, desperately not wanting to see disappointment in her eyes. "Sorry - I didn't realise I was even drinking." I pause, waiting for her to speak, but she doesn't make a sound - she just looks at me with all the intensity of, well, I don't know - my vocabulary ain't that hot. I ain't gonna start this one - B's in the chair here. If I start, I'm afraid I'll fuck-up, and that's the last thing I wanna do. "So, where d'ya wanna start, B?" I finally ask.
She stares at me for a second, then takes a swig of wine. "I want to know why, Faith. Why did you turn against me? I-I thought you were on my side..."
Okay, I was expecting that question, but not quite like that. More anger, maybe? A little venom? But not that kind of raw emotion.
"I was on your side, B. I still am - despite all the shit. I never meant to hurt you. Or maybe I did, but only because I was hurting, and I didn't know how else to deal. I was stupid, and young and immature, and you couldn't hate me for it more than I hate myself." Honest, right? That's what Red said.
B listens and nods, then asks more: "You were hurting? Because of Alan?"
"Because of you, B."
She sits back, straightening: "Because of me? Faith, I was there for you. I tried to help you. How did I hurt you?"
I feel like a cornered rat, but Red's advice is echoing in my head. I notice the bag full of letters and know it's sink or swim time. "You dumped me, B. You were everything to me, and you dropped me like a stone. You made me feel like I didn't really matter, like you didn't really care... like I was always going to be second best."
"I dumped you?" B's eyes are wide. "Okay, wanna back up a little, 'cause I think I fell off at Confusion Avenue..."
I can't believe her. Is she really that stupid? I mean, is this a blonde thing or a denial thing? I reach for the wine, but she stops me, gripping my wrist. We're both leaning forward towards the wine, I try not to look at her.
"When did I dump you, Faith?" she asks again, her voice soft and gentle.
I look at her and feel my face crumple. How very fucking dignified. "The prom, B," I snap, pulling back and resting my back against the wall, "Who asked you to your fucking high school prom?"
She sits there, balanced precariously on the edge of the bed. You can almost hear the cogs whirring around in her head. Suddenly, somebody puts the light on in her brain and she takes a quick intake of breath. Her hand moves to her mouth. "Oh my god," she mutters under her breath.
I sniff, wiping my nose with the back of my hand. How very adult and attractive. "I never had a fucking prom, B," I blurt, "I never had the chance... but yours? I wanted to make yours special. I guess I never was sure whether or not it was a date, but I wanted it to be. More than anything. And then he showed up." My bottom lip's quivering and those bastard tears are escaping again. I jam the heels of my palms into my eyes, trying to stop the flow.
"A-a date? Faith, I never knew, I..."
"You never knew?!? You never knew how I felt? Not the tiniest clue? What about the heart I drew on the window for you when you skipped class with me? What about everything we said earlier?"
"I-I suspected, but I was never sure..."
"And what if you had been sure, B? What then? Would Angel have been history? Would you still have stabbed me to save him? Would you have actually supported me over Finch instead of making me feel like a Goddamned whore at a tea dance?"
"Faith, I never.."
"Yes, you did, B. You just cast me aside. You had Red and Xander and Angel and Giles - even wolf boy and Cordelia ranked higher than me. I was like a spare part."
"But I didn't mean to make you feel that way - I cared about you, Faith..."
Okay, that one got me. "Cared, as in past tense?" I don't give her time to respond. "Mayor might have been one screwed up asshole, B, but he cared about me. You dropped me for Angel, made me feel so alone after Finch, shattered my heart into a zillion pieces when I'd never trusted anyone with it before, and the mayor took me in, gave me a home and acted like I was his daughter. Do you have any idea how it feels to be so completely and totally alone, B?"
Her voice is small: "Yes, I do."
"Don't spin me that crap, B - I've been you. I know how it feels to be you. All warm and safe and secure. Little miss popular."
"That was before mom died."
Ah, crap! Now I've done it. I move, quickly, to the side of her bed. "B, I'm sorry, I didn't think. I'm a selfish asshole...please, look at me."
She looks at me, and her eyes reflect all the pain I've ever felt. "I'm sorry Faith," she says, in a voice so tiny I hardly hear it, "I was in your body, too. I should've taken more notice of how you felt. I let you down."
I wrap my arms around her and mentally thank Red for the lesson in hugging. "I love you, B" I say, "I always will. I don't expect you to love me back - I don't deserve that. But I still love you."
I don't know how long we stayed like that. At some point, we crawled up onto the bed and just held each other. We were both crying, and it didn't matter. Even if she never spoke to me again, it wouldn't matter, 'cause I'd got my chance to say sorry, hold her and fess up 'bout how I felt. If I die tomorrow, I'll die happy. Well, maybe not happy, but more content than ever before.
Some time later, I open my eyes. When did I fall asleep? I feel around for B, but she's not there. I'm still gettin' the slayer tingle, so she's around somewhere, just not next to me. I sit up on the bed. What if she woke up and hated me? What if she never wants to see me again? What if... I look across the room and see her on the other bed, the nightlight on and a letter in her hand.
She's found the bag.
I break the silence: "Guess my secret's well and truly out." I stumble over my words - a mixture of just-woken-up-confusion and nerves.
B just looks at me over the top of the letter she's reading. Tear stains streak her face.
"Faith? I'm sorry, I just - I woke up and I..."
I come to a little more and smile: "Don't worry, B. You always were the pokey-nosed one."
She doesn't seem to find the humour and starts to stuff the letter back into the bag, "I'm sorry, Faith, I should never have..."
I get up and move across the room, taking the letter from her hands. I look into her eyes, then go back to the piece of paper and start to read out loud: "Dear B, I can't believe you said you'd go to the prom with me. Reckon I'll be the luckiest one there. I bet you don't even know how happy you've made me. I loved you from the moment I saw you, B - you're so beautiful. And hot. Very hot. You know, this is the first time I've actually been on a date before - and definitely the first time I've asked anyone. I want it to be special with you, B. I love you. Always, Faith x."
I put the letter back in the bag. "Pick another one, B," I say.
Hesitantly, she reaches into the bag and pulls out another. I unfold it again and begin to read: "Dearest B, I wish I was different. I wish I was more of a brain, wish I knew big words, wish I knew how to use a computer, wish I knew how to act in a posh restaurant so I could take you out and treat you like a princess. I'd give anything to be able to take you out on a real date, make you feel special - you deserve to feel special. You are special. To me. I think you're my soul mate, B, I never felt this way about anyone before - I doubt I ever will again. Nobody could ever hold my heart after you, B. I wish I was good enough for you, but I'm not even close to your league, am I? I love you to the stars and back. Forever, Faith. X."
B's really crying now. She's got tears streaming down her face. My hands are shaking, but I can't stop now.
I fold the letter up and take out another. This one's on standard, prison-issue paper - a much later one.
I take a deep breath and start to read: "My dearest B, I've been inside for six months now, and not a single day has passed when I haven't thought of you. Angel tells me you're doing okay - I don't let him tell me any more than that. I'm afraid one day he'll tell me you've been swept off your feet by some handsome stranger, and I just don't want to think about that. I can't allow myself to think about that, B - the thought of you in someone else's arms tears me to pieces. Yeah, I know - I have no right to think like that. You never were mine, but sometimes, when I remember the good times, I feel sure you felt something for me. There was something between us, B, I'm positive.
“I talked to the prison shrink about my feelings for you - she reckons it could all have been some teenage crush. Apparently, it's common for people 'in my position' to subconsciously concentrate memories of feelings and emotions into something they weren't. And even if they were there, and reciprocated, she says we were both just kids at the time - everything's confusing at that time of life, or so she says. Was I just confused, B? I know I'm not confused about my feelings for you now.
“Despite everything, you still hold my heart and my soul. Even through the bad times. Without those, we wouldn't be who we are today, would we? Which doesn't mean I don't wish I could turn back the clock. I caused so much damage, B, and for that, I will be eternally sorry. I hope, one day, that you will be able to forgive me. And just for the record, I have no bad feelings towards you - I got what was coming to me, and I don't blame you for any of it. How could I, when I love you so much?
“Angel knows how I feel. He kinda guessed, and I didn't contradict him. We make a pretty sad pair come visiting. You know he still has feelings for you, right? I don't know which of us is better off - I say he at least got the chance to be close to you, but he says I'm in a better place, because you don't miss what you've never had. But I do miss you, B. I miss the way your nose wrinkles up when you smile. I miss those gorgeous, green eyes - the eyes I used to drown in when you weren't looking. I miss your laugh. I miss the way your hair smells of that vanilla shampoo. I miss the way you call me 'F' when you're pissed at me. I miss everything about you. And, not that it'll mean anything to you, but I want you to know that there's been nobody else, B. Not since that time with the whole body-swap thing. I feel so, so terrible about that. I never meant to hurt you. I guess I was pretty screwed-up at the time, and it felt like the only chance I'd ever have to get inside your skin. I'm sorry, B, for everything.
“Anyway, like I said, there's been nobody else. Don't get me wrong, I've had offers - plenty of 'em in here - but it feels like cheating, B. When you love someone this much, nobody else could even begin to compare, so I choose solitude. I have my memories of you. I have my dreams. I can hope for no more, other than your forgiveness some day. I love you B, more than you can ever know. Always and forever, Faith x."
I reach for another letter, but B stops me. She looks up at me with those big, puppy dog eyes. "I did feel the same for you, Faith," she says, "you weren't crazy."
Another tear escapes my eye as her words hit home. I wipe my eyes and force a smile. "No, B, I was crazy. But I'm glad I wasn't crazy about that. How come you never said anything?"
She shrugs her shoulders and looks down at her lap: "I guess I was afraid. I didn't know how to handle it - I didn't want to be different."
I look pointedly at her.
"Any more different than I already was," she adds. "You know, I freaked out when I found out Willow was gay."
I nod: "Yeah, she said something like that." I poke her in the ribs, teasing: "You redneck homophobe."
Her face is stony. "I'm not homophobic, Faith."
I tilt my head to one side: "So, what gives?" I ask.
"It just made me feel like such an idiot."
"Why?"
"Because I was too afraid to admit my feelings for you. I failed you, and yet here was Willow, the sweetest, most inoffensive person I knew, admitting to loving a woman. I just felt like I'd thrown away so much."
I pull back a little. "Doesn't seem like you missed out an awful lot, B." Damn, I didn't want that to sound quite as biting.
She's on the defensive now: "What do you mean by that?"
Might as well go for broke, Faithy. "Riley. Spike. Hardly leading a nun's life."
Her bottom lip starts to quiver again. Jeez, I'm such an asshole.
I reach for her: "B, I'm sorry - I'm a jerk, alright? You didn't deserve that."
She sniffs and pulls back even further. "I didn't know, Faith. I was just trying to carry on and hold it all together. How was I to know how you felt?"
I shrug again. Lot of that going on tonight. "Doesn't matter anyway, B. Can't expect you to stop living just 'cause some crazy broad's got the hots for ya."
I reach over to the bedside table for my smokes, but B takes them from me and puts them into the drawer.
"What if some crazy broad's got the hots for you?" she asks, quiet as a mouse.
I was just getting pissed about the cigs situation when I hear her question. Did she really mean that?
I turn to her, eyes wide, not daring to leap to the conclusion I long for. "Wanna say that again?" I ask, hopefully.
She moves closer to me. "Do you still love me, Faith, even after all this mess?"
I nod, silently.
"Would you believe me if I told you I loved you?"
I'm pretty sure the blood's drained from my face. Right now, Spike probably has better circulation than me.
"Faith?" she prods, moving closer still.
"Only if you were serious, B," I finally manage, "I'm lowering all my defences here - I ain't sure I could stand to be a fling, or some last minute drama in the face of apocalypse." Jesus! Where did that come from? Say yes, you idiot, say yes!
B's moving closer again. "I love you, Faith," she says. And then I feel the softest, sweetest lips pressing against my own. The tingles up and down my spine increase tenfold, and all I can think is "Buffy Summers is kissing me! Buffy Summers is kissing me!"
All too soon, she pulls back. "What?" I ask.
"Are you going to kiss me back any time soon?" she asks, smiling shyly.
Right now, my grin is so wide, you'd think I'd been sleeping with a stake in my mouth. I scoop her up in my arms and kiss her. "Elizabeth" *kiss* "Anne" *kiss* "Summers" *kiss* "I love you" *kiss* "to the stars and back" *kiss*.
I pick her up and twirl her around the room, stopping right in the centre to kiss her again. I take her face in my hands and brush my lips, ever so gently, against hers. I sweep my tongue against her lips and she parts them a little, letting me in. Our tongues move together with perfection, like we've been kissing for eternity. She tastes sweet, so sweet, just like I knew she would.
Finally, we come up for air.
I pull back and just bask in the beauty of the moment. She's smiling - that special smile that makes her eyes all twinkly. I'm just about to profess my love again when the lights dim, and it looks like a gazillion pink candles are scattered around the room, all flickering perfectly. I glance at the beds, and they're both covered in rose petals. A whooshing sound from outside draws our attention to the window, and we see the most colourful, fantastic display of fireworks ever.
We turn to each other and smile. "Thanks, Red."