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Chapter 1
It was dark when they got back into Sunnydale. The flight had been long and was punctuated by a family who argued constantly and had little to no control over where their children went, or how loud they were when they decided to run up and down the aisles. Faith had been dutifully concerned over Tara's sombre mood and had offered to maim both children in an effort to cheer the blonde witch up a little. Tara had returned her sincerity with a faint smile before turning her back on the Slayer and going to sleep against the chair.
As they stood outside the airport, Faith stopped and closed her eyes, breathing in deeply. "Can you smell it?" she asked, tasting the air around her.
"What?"
"Sunnydale." Faith grinned crookedly, "The Hellmouth. All of it, here like it always was." She picked up her bag from the floor and slung it easily over her shoulder, grabbing Tara's suitcase with her other hand. "Just like coming home," she added, taking another deep breath.
Tara followed her obediently as Faith sauntered towards the cab line that was waiting to prey on innocent and perhaps, not so innocent, tourists and visitors. As they got into the cab, stowing their bags neatly away in the trunk, the dark Slayer shook her head and looked closely at Tara.
"You sure you're gonna be okay?" she asked concernedly, her voice holding a note of maternal protectiveness that an inner voice whispered it was quite alright to feel. As the words came out of her mouth, Faith fought an embarrassment to retract them, instead coughing and looking down at her leather-clad legs.
Tara smiled and put her hand on Faith's arm. "I'll be fine," she sighed, "It won't be the same without Willow, but I'll be fine. I know she'll come back to me someday. I guess that's what matters."
"You know, I kinda don't understand it. That…thing you and she have. It's like.." Faith searched her mind for the words and came up short, as always, feeling frustrated with her inability to express what was truly inside her. "It's like you and she are…you know…well it's kinda great I guess," she shrugged. "Sure wouldn't mind some of that stuff for myself."
Tara closed her eyes and laid her head against the firm seat of the cab as it drove away from the airport, her hand still resting on Faith's denim arm. A feeling of love swept her body as she wondered, for the hundredth time since they had left England, just what Willow was doing right now. She sighed, pressing her lips together as the Slayer sniffed and settled herself into her seat. "You will have Faith," she said gently, feeling rather than seeing the grin that self-consciously spread itself across the other girl's lips, "You will have."
"I'll get it!" Buffy shouted to her mother as she leapt down the stairs two at a time. She knew that Willow and Tara would have wanted a couple of days to get over their jetlag and, as such, hadn't even bothered attempting to contact them. Willow had promised her plenty of stories about 'jolly old England' on their return. The last time Buffy had heard from them, apart from a gaudy postcard emblazoned with coats of arms and trees, was when they had first arrived. She was eager to hear all about Giles' homeland, if only to have her suspicions confirmed that British people really were as odd as Giles appeared to be.
The sound of the doorbell had scarcely finished echoing through the house by the time Buffy reached the front door and she flung it open, a huge smile plastered across her face, excited to see her best friend and Tara again.
As she took in the figure standing outside the door, her smile froze, then faded rapidly. Startled blue eyes ranged over the leather trousers and denim jacket that had become a mayhem trademark. Fear jumped erratically into her head, only to be replaced by a resentment and anger that she had almost forgotten. For a moment, neither girl spoke.
"What the hell are you doing here?" Buffy finally asked, gripping onto the door so tightly she could feel her fingers practically digging into the wooden frame.
Faith shifted from foot to foot and shrugged lightly, feeling a dizziness of emotion wash through her body as she looked back at Buffy.
"Hey B," she said, "I'm back."
It seemed that everything Buffy had been running away from has chased her through her nightmares and stood now, silent and crestfallen, on her doorstep. As she looked over the figure in front of her, taking in the wide eyes, darkened by the night and something that Buffy couldn’t quite fathom, she felt resentment build inside her, like gathering storm clouds, promising something explosive.
Images danced briefly in front of her eyes; pictures of Faith's angry passion and her unfailing lack of belief in humanity, in herself. They disappeared as quickly as they had materialised, leaving a sharp pain of anxiety burning deep in her throat.
Questions leapt quickly to fill the blackness where the spectre of Faith had been lurking for so long. Shaking her head against them, Buffy gripped the door, squaring herself in the space that led to her house.
"What the hell are you doing here?" she repeated, hearing her voice as though from great distance, faint and confused.
Faith shoved her hands into her pockets, feeling the other girl's discomfort almost as keenly as her own. Although Tara had assured and reassured her that it was the right thing to do, Faith had never really been a fan of 'doing the right thing', as that usually meant compromise, backing down, accepting that she had been wrong. She was regretting her decision to come here now, the emotion tugging at her, telling her to run away again, flee this place. She felt as though she was looking at Buffy with different eyes now. Returning to Sunnydale, where it had all started, was like coming back to the scene of an accident, trying to pick up the pieces and apologise for the hit and run.
"I wanted to explain," she began, then stopped. Buffy's face was hardening into a mask. It cut Faith to the quick. She met the blue eyes with her own sorrowful brown ones briefly, before the icy gaze made her turn away, almost in shame. "I wanted to apologise," she said softly.
"You tried that before. It didn't work. You lied." Buffy was unrelenting in her hardness, her voice coming out in staccato sentences that she pushed through numbed lips with some effort. "Besides, I thought you gave yourself up to the police. What d’ya do? Break out of jail?" Her voice held a note of sarcasm that Faith couldn't fail to miss.
The dark Slayer shifted from foot to foot, slightly shaking her head. "Look B….Buffy, I came back to see you, to talk to you -"
"Talk to me?" the blonde echoed, incredulity raising the pitch of her voice, "Since when did you ever talk about anything Faith? You crash into people's lives, then run away before there's time for anything like conversation," she punctuated her words with a sweeping movement of her arms, fists clenched, "So why should things be different now?"
"Because…" Faith opened her mouth, then shut it again, defeat rising like an army to claim her efforts. Meeting the blonde's gaze again, she tried once more, even though her mouth and her mind were hurtling towards blackness, "Things are different now. The Council got me, " she said, watching Buffy's eyes widen slightly, "In England….we did stuff. It was kinda…intense." A tiny smile curved the corners of her mouth as the memories of Morgan Le Fay flooded her mind for a moment.
"We did stuff?"
"Yeah, me, Willow and Tara."
"Hold on, wait a minute." Buffy held up her hand, confusing painting its way in broad colours across her face. "You…Willow and Tara?"
"Jeez B, you're kinda soundin' like echo girl right now." Faith smiled crookedly, half amused and half dreading having to rehash the whole sorry tale again.
"You got out of prison, went to England and…." Buffy's voice trailed away incredulously.
"It's a long story. Complicated." Faith shrugged, looking around nervously all of a sudden, aware that they were talking openly on the doorstep of a house in the middle of an active Hellmouth. "Look B, I came here to explain. If that's okay," she paused, then qualified it with, "I mean, I wanna explain."
Buffy's lips pursed into a tight line of denial and pain, the contours of her face hardening and setting like stone. Part of her wanted to take the Slayer back, to confide again like they had done once before. The wildness Faith instilled in her hadn't always been uncontrolled. Once it had encouraged her Slayer instinct….but that was long ago, Buffy reminded herself. She took a breath as though to speak, then shook her head, stepping back. "You're too late Faith," she breathed, "way too late."
For a second, she glimpsed sadness in the huge brown eyes gazing at her. It pulled at something inside her, making her wonder if, this time, Faith was being honest with her. But all too briefly that emotion was overcome with the Slayer's betrayal, forcing her to close the door in Faith's face.
Willow turned over onto her side and grinned as Tara snuggled up closer behind her, sliding her arms around the redhead. Closing her eyes, Willow felt like England was a long long way away, not only in her thoughts, but also in her memories. Everything she could remember was right here, cuddled up with her in the relative comfort of Tara's bed. She pressed her back into the fleshy warmth of Tara's stomach and sighed.
"It is so good to be here." she murmured.
"It's pretty good being back here as well," Tara giggled into Willow's ear, making her laugh.
"I guess staying away from you isn't really an option anymore." Willow said, her hands creeping to cover Tara's.
The other girl began gently stroking Willow's fingers from the knuckle right up to the tip, her deft hands fluttering sensations down the redhead's nerve endings, making her squirm in delight.
"I knew you'd come back to me though," she said, leaning her head forward to kiss Willow's hair, "We'll always come back for each other."
"I know," Willow smiled, "But, I just wanted to - " She was cut short by the piercing ringing of the telephone, its shrill sound breaking the tender moment between them.
Tara sighed, extracting herself from Willow's grasp and trying to ignore the pouting look that the redhead shot her. Apologetically, she got out of the bed, the cool night air hitting her bare legs as she padded across to her desk where the telephone lay, still bleating its plaintive cry throughout the room.
Picking up the receiver, she spoke briefly into it, then covered it with her hand, "It's Faith," she whispered across towards Willow.
The redhead struggled up into a sitting position, her eyes intent on the figure of her girlfriend in front of her. Resolving differences with Faith had been one of the hardest lessons she had learnt, heck, she was still learning it, but somehow, if anything, the experience they had shared in England had helped her to see another side of the dark Slayer. It was a side that Willow was learning to admire somewhat. She watched as Tara listened to the voice on the other end of the line, smiling at the concerned expression on her lover's face. Tara, always so protective of the ones she cared about. It was one of the many qualities that endeared the shy Wiccan to Willow; just a part of her that the redhead adored.
Presently, Tara replaced the receiver and stood for a moment, chewing on her bottom lip, her face creased into an expression of worry and concern.
"What?" Willow pushed back a few stray strands of hair that had fallen forward onto her face.
Clear blue eyes flicked across to her, as though Tara had only just realised that she wasn't alone. She walked back across to the bed and sat down next to Willow, reaching onto the floor for her clothes that lay crumpled in a heap where they had been thrown earlier.
"I have to go," was all she said, pulling on her underwear and rummaging around for her bra.
"Go? Go where?"
"She's upset."
"Faith?" Willow sighed slightly, her plans of a cosy evening together dashed, "She's always upset."
Tara threw her a look of reproach, albeit not an unkind one. "Willow."
"Hey, look, I know she's doing something brave here, but does it have to be you? Does it have to be now?" The redhead reached forward and put her hand on Tara's leg. "Haven't you done enough for her already?"
Tara stopped dressing and turned round on the bed to face her girlfriend. Her eyes were filled with worry. She bit her lip briefly before speaking slowly, as though explaining something complex to a child. "Faith needs me right now," her voice was low and intense, "She's completely alone Willow, she doesn't have any friends…"
"Apart from you and me," Willow cut in, leaning forward to press her head against Tara's arm. She sighed, "Okay, I know." Lifting her head back to look once more into Tara's eyes, she shrugged. "So what's up with her?"
"She went to see Buffy."
"Oh Lord," Willow sighed. "Didn’t go well huh?"
Tara shook her head, clasping her bra around her back and pulling on a thick jumper over her head, static crackling as she pulled her hair free from the neck. "I think I have to talk to her….be with her….do something…." Shaking her head she pursed her lips. "M-maybe you should….you know…."
"Go and see Buffy?"
Tara nodded. "Yeah. I mean…." Her eyes met Willow's and she squeezed the other girl's hand. "Looks like we might have a bit of a struggle on our hands here."
When the doorbell rang again, Buffy was almost waiting behind the door to swing it open, expecting once again to see the darkened eyes of Faith gazing back at her. Surprise lightened her expression as she saw the grinning figure of her best friend in the whole world standing on her porch.
“Will!” she exclaimed in delight and threw her arms around the slight figure, almost knocking her off her feet.
Encompassed in perhaps one of the warmest and, Willow noted grimly, strongest hugs she had ever experienced, the witch slid her arms around the blonde Slayer, hugging her back. After what seemed like way too long, Willow began to notice the tightness in her chest as Buffy’s arms grabbed onto her as though she was the only other human being left in the world.
“Uh…” Willow began, her voice strained by the effort, “Buff? Kinda not breathing well here….”
“Oh! Sorry Will….” Buffy stood back, releasing her, stepping into the house. Willow followed her in and sat down on the sofa as Buffy dropped down next to her, eyes alight with pleasure.
“God Will, it’s so good to see you. I mean….it’s just so good!” Buffy breathed.
“I missed you too,” the redhead smiled back, pushing a strand of hair from her eyes. She noticed that Buffy seemed somehow too pleased to see her, as though something was….she checked herself. Of course something was wrong. Faith had been here.
“So how was England? Full of little Giles’? Female Giles’? Old Giles’?” Buffy was babbling and she knew it, “What was the weather like? Did you get to go anywhere exciting? I bet it sure beat the Hellmouth hands down.”
“Buffy, stop.” Willow said gently, seeing her friend cut herself short, her face dropping slightly. The Slayer eased back onto the sofa and joined her hands in her lap, her gaze flicking downward. She of all people should have known that she couldn’t hide anything from her intelligent, sensitive friend.
“Faith was here.” Buffy’s voice was low and confused.
“I know.” Willow answered, drawing an inquisitive and not altogether pleasant glance from her friend. “She uh….she was in England.”
“So I heard.”
“It was pretty tough at times,” Willow said, remembering far more than she wanted to about the confusion with the Council. “I’ll fill you in later on exactly what happened. But Buffy, Faith’s changed. I mean, really changed.”
Buffy’s lips drew themselves into a short hard line. “Somehow I find that hard to believe,” she said, her voice flat and non-committal. “This is Faith, Willow, not some poor defenceless creature who doesn’t know better. Faith always knows better. She’s evil.”
“That’s just it though,” Willow leant forward, resting her arm along the back of the sofa, her eyes clouding with memories. “She’s not…I mean, she’s not like, totally evil anymore. She did some stuff –“
“Faith’s always doing stuff.” Buffy cut in, a cold fire lighting up her eyes, “That’s what she does, stuff. She fooled us all before and I won’t let her do it again. Whatever she did in England with you guys can’t have been all that – “
“She saved my life Buffy.” Willow stated firmly, watching as Buffy’s mouth opened, then closed again. The redhead nodded. “She did. At the risk of losing her own. I mean, she was like, fighting on our side. For good.”
The eyes watching her carefully closed briefly, then flickered open, two bright pools of light studying the redhead closely. Buffy felt as though her head was going to explode. Of all people, Willow was the one who totally agreed with her on the whole Faith issue. Her hatred of the dark Slayer had been rooted in betrayal of the most heinous kind; Faith had even held a knife to Willow’s throat and let it draw a silver line of threat down her neck. And now her best friend was fighting Faith’s corner? Somehow it didn’t, couldn’t and never would make sense.
The Slayer shook her head. “That’s not like her.”
Willow laughed out loud. “Don’t think I didn’t have a hard time accepting it. I mean, it’s Faith, you know? Everything she was, everything she did, but still, when it came down to it, she wanted to make good.” She paused for a second whilst her words still hung between them like a lifeline. “It wasn’t easy for her to come back here. The Council wanted to keep her there in England but she knew that she needed to come back to Sunnydale.” A tiny smile played around the corners of her mouth, “We all keep coming back here one way or another.”
“Well you can take the girl out of the Hellmouth….” Buffy began, making both of them grin at the old saying. Her smile dropped almost instantly as she recalled Faith standing on her doorstep, larger than life and twice as sorry. “Are you sure Will? I mean….it’s not like her to suddenly change. She’s done this before and fooled us all.” Buffy sat back, folding her arms, her head dropping as the pictures she had only seen in nightmares suddenly seemed very real and corporeal.
Leaning her head onto her hand, Willow sighed. “I know, I know. I guess all we can do is give her the chance.”
“To what? Kill us all?” Buffy laughed bitterly. “I’ll never let her get near me again.” Her mouth worked its way around the words almost before they were formed into what made sense. “She got too close last time. I trusted her and she…” Shaking her head she didn’t carry on. “No.” was all she added.
“Give her a chance Buff…please?” Willow reached out and took the Slayer’s hand in her own, squeezing it gently. “For me? I kinda get the feeling she’ll make good this time.”
“Yeah?” Buffy wasn’t convinced. “And what makes you so sure?”
Thinking instantly of Tara, Willow smiled again, her eyes crinkling in affection. “Oh, I got a great tip off from a reliable source.”
Chapter 2
Faith was pacing. Her long strides were covering the tiny width of her really quite unpleasant motel room so fast, it seemed she was constantly turning and returning to one spot. It was making her guest kind of dizzy.
Tara sat gingerly on the edge of Faith’s bed, trying not to wrinkle her nose in disgust at the place Faith was now calling home. She had been very careful to spare the feelings of the dark Slayer when she had tapped nervously on the door. The downtown motel was notorious for attracting the underbelly of Sunnydale’s populace. In most other towns, that would mean drunks, hookers and gambers. However, Tara thought fearfully, in Sunnydale it usually indicated a motel full of vamps, demons and other creatures of the night.
The blonde witch looked around and sighed lightly to herself. It wasn’t right for Faith to be here. The wallpaper peeling off the walls hadn’t been particularly subtle when it was new. Now the colours had faded everything looked an off-white attempt at grey, without quite getting there successfully. To Tara’s left, just out of sight, was the bathroom. She shivered, hoping she wasn’t going to need it during her visit – she could hear the tap dripping an overture of damp from where she sat.
Faith stopped pacing in front of Tara, drawing the blonde girl’s gaze to her furrowed brow and deep brown eyes. Folding her arms, her foot tapped irritably against the floor as she gazed down at her friend. She reminded herself, looking at Tara’s timid expression, her only friend.
“I knew this wasn’t gonna be a good idea,” she growled.
“At least you tried….” Tara began, but Faith threw her attempts at comfort aside with a sweep of her hand.
“She hates me.” She started pacing again.
“Faith, Buffy’s hurt and confused right now –“ Tara leant forward on the bed.
“She’s hurt?” A snort came from the Slayer as she passed by on her way to the other side of the room, her heavy boots marking out time. “Hey, I’m the one that just got blanked by someone who should understand.” She jerked her thumb towards herself viciously, snarling at her own digit in disgust. “I guess it’s what I deserve, I mean, it’s not like I haven’t messed up her life as well as my own huh?” She span around on her heel and began the five or so strides towards the window, where curtains hung lank and heavy, stained by too many cigarettes and trapped air.
Tara reached out as Faith passed her by, grabbing the Slayer’s hand in her own. The moment her skin touched Faith’s, the other girl froze, then immediately jumped back, wrenching her hand from Tara’s grasp. The blonde shrank back from the Slayer, who turned on her with an expression that bordered on threatening. For a second no one spoke.
“Uh….sorry.” Faith mumbled, looking down at her feet. She hoped her hair would cover the embarrassment that was flushing its way across her face. When she finally raised her gaze to meet Tara’s, she was surprised to find a smile broadly drawn across the full lips of the other girl.
“Faith, sit down.” Tara said softly, patting the threadbare coverlet on the bed beside her.
The dark girl turned, flopping down onto the bed and breathing out heavily, a sigh that indicated her frustration as well as her submission to defeat. Lying back, she covered her face with her arms, shaking her head.
“Buffy’s just got to work some stuff out, that’s all.” Tara said gently, turning to look at the girl next to her. As always, the soporific tone of her voice calmed the angry Slayer’s heart, giving her some hope at least, that someone cared. “Willow’s gone to talk to her. She’ll listen to her.”
Faith lifted her arms and folded them under her head, her eyes meeting Tara’s. “Red? Christ, that’s all I need, relying on Red for moral support. I screwed her too y’know.” She pursed her lips, her eyes turning upward to focus on a damp patch on the ceiling. “Think she’s really forgiven me? I mean, I know all that shit went down in England but…I was pretty hard on her.”
“Willow knows what you’ve done. Good and bad.” Tara reassured her. “Going back to something is never easy, but if you really have changed, then things will be, you know, okay.”
Sitting up, Faith frowned across at Tara, trying to look into the girl, wondering where on earth such a kind heart had come from. “You didn’t happen to take a crash course in counselling did ya?” she tried to grin. “How come you know so much? I remember I wasn’t exactly great around you when I first met you.”
A blush covered Tara’s cheeks as she recalled that night in the Bronze when Faith had been in Buffy’s body. Her eyelids covered her eyes shyly as she looked down at her lap, twisting her fingers together. “Well that was…uh…it was kinda….um….” she struggled with the right words.
“Your first date?” Faith laughed. “That was wicked obvious!” Another chuckle escaped the Slayer’s throat as she leant back on the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Jeez I’m a bitch sometimes,” she murmered, “I never even gave you a chance.”
“But you did in the end.” Tara’s head came up, her eyes met Faith’s, then smiled. She pushed her hair back behind her ear and shrugged. “Remember what Merlin said about Excalibur? Only the purest heart could use it. That’s you Faith. That’s who you are now. It’s just…..uh….buried pretty deep,” she gave a soft laugh as Faith rolled her eyes. “You have to give Buffy time to get used to the idea.”
“And what if she can’t?” Faith’s voice almost trembled with emotion. She coughed to cover it up, something she found herself doing quite a lot lately, especially when talking to Tara. There was something about the blonde girl that made her feel vulnerable and open. It wasn’t a feeling she was completely comfortable with. Yet.
“She will. She has to.” Tara reached out and squeezed Faith’s shoulder, her touch warm. For a moment the two girls smiled at one another, rekindling some of the connection they had shared in England. Glancing down, Tara made a small noise of annoyance and held up her wrist where her bulky watch was fastened. “I have to go Faith.” She stood up, reaching behind her for her jacket.
“Hey I’ll walk you.” Faith swung her legs off the bed and got to her feet, shucking on her jacket over her shoulders in one easy motion.
“Oh you don’t have to…”
“I know I don’t.” Faith shrugged, pushing at her hair, “But it’s still a Hellmouth out there and I gotta do something. Maybe I’ll see if I can scare up any vamps in one of the cemeteries or somethin’.” She smacked a fist into the palm of her left hand, the force of it making a smacking noise. “Slayer stuff y’know.”
“Working out some of that frustration?” Tara grinned as they walked towards the door.
“Don’t knock it girlfriend,” Faith flicked off the light. “At least that’s somethin’ I know I can still do.”
“Our place or Tara’s?” Buffy asked Willow as they followed one of the paths across campus.
“Tara’s.” Willow nodded towards the path that led to her girlfriend’s dorm and they veered off to the right. “I promised I’d meet her tonight to…” she decided that telling Buffy about Faith and Tara’s friendship maybe wasn’t the best idea right now, “…to you know, just uh…”
Buffy grinned and lightly punched Willow’s arm playfully, “Yeah I know. So how’s it going with you two? Sounds like you had a pretty eventful vacation together?”
The redhead rolled her eyes, pulling her coat together against the night that held a distinct chill. She had noticed that she and Buffy were the only students out walking that night. Hellmouth rules, she thought grimly, no going out after dark. She wondered what it would be like to live in a safe place for once, the thought escaping her mind almost immediately. Being here felt right. Coming back had felt right; she hadn’t wanted to stay away from the place she was most needed.
“I guess it was a good vacation, apart from the whole evil menace to the world and killing stuff.”
Buffy laughed, “Scooby Tours, we promise you danger and certain death. Could be a great business.”
A smile curved Willow’s lips as she slid her arm through the Slayer’s, matching their paces as they walked. “Even though it was kinda rough with the whole Faith thing, you know, I think Tara and I got closer because of it. I mean, there were times when I thought maybe we wouldn’t make it. You know, the two of us.”
“She loves you Will,” Buffy squeezed her friend’s arm affectionately. “And it’s clear to me the way you feel about her. Besides,” she added grimly, “it’s not like you subscribe to the ‘Buffy school o’ love’.” When her friend glanced at her, frowning, she let out a short sigh. “Loved him, lost him, loved him even more.”
“Buffy.” Willow leant against the Slayer’s shoulder and rubbed her hand. “Have you heard anything from Riley?” She remembered Buffy’s distress when he had suddenly taken off at the beginning of the summer vacation, telling the Slayer that he was being sent on some kind of mission. He didn’t explain anything, only to tell her that it was Initiative business, even though the Initiative didn’t officially exist anymore.
“Not a word.” Buffy’s voice sounded very small. “But I’m dealing with it. Like I have some other kind of choice,” she added grimly.
“You think he’ll come back?”
A sigh punctuated the other girl’s answer. “Don’t know. Both of us were kind of wondering if this whole relationship was based on something other than attraction to our relative status. I mean, I’m not sure he’d like me…..love me even, if I wasn’t the Slayer.”
“Hey, he liked you before he knew didn’t he?”
“Well yeah….but….” Buffy stopped walking, turning to face Willow, her clear eyes troubled and full of something that seemed like regret. She looked down at the ground for a second before returning her gaze to Willow’s.
“But?” Willow prompted her.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I just feel like we’re not really headed in the same direction. He’s got all this military stuff to do and me? I can’t leave the Hellmouth. I’m stuck here in Sunnydale for better or worse.” The tone of Buffy’s voice held a gravity Willow had scarcely heard before. The responsibilities of the Slayer rested on Buffy’s shoulders so easily, it was hard for other people to truly understand the restrictions they brought. Willow had made a choice to remain in Sunnydale, but Buffy didn’t even have that. Her place was here, whether she liked it or not. This was obviously one of those ‘not’ times.
“Did you talk about this?” Willow asked, her eyes searching out Buffy’s in the black night around them.
“Yeah….kinda. But you know how he is, he has this big moral duty thing goin’ on. Like that’s his priority.” Buffy’s voice was sad, dropping to a whisper. She bit at her lower lip for a second before shrugging and pulling Willow’s arm in tight to her. “Anyway, best friend in the world,” she grinned, “at least you’re getting the smoochies. One of us has to. I’ll smooch by proxy.”
An older, more innocent Willow would have blushed. Instead, the redhead shrugged and a complacent smile coloured her mouth. “Relationships aren’t just about smoochies you know.”
“Yeah, sometimes they’re never about smoochies.” Buffy closed her eyes briefly at the memory of a tall, dark, handsome vampire. Glancing across at Willow, she saw her friend’s obvious confusion and raised her eyebrows. “Hello? Dating a vampire with a soul?”
“Oh. Oh! Yeah!” Willow stopped as they reached the steps that led up into Tara’s hall. “Sorry. Maybe some relationships really are about smoochies. Guess you kinda miss ‘em when you don’t have any.”
“That’s what the slaying’s for.” Buffy grimaced. “Apparently.”
They giggled a little before Willow separated herself from Buffy’s grasp. “Listen Buffy, about this Faith thing.” She stopped as the Slayer’s face immediately dropped and hardened at the mention of the other girl.
“Will….do we have to talk about her? Here I was just having a really nice evening forgetting and then you go spoil it.”
“I just wish you’d give her a chance, that’s all.” Willow protested feebly, her resolve weakening under the gimlet eyes of her friend. She had been working up to this little speech all night, wondering if Buffy could stop from killing her long enough to hear it. Faith sure did cause extreme reactions in people, she thought.
“What are you? The Faith fan club all of a sudden?” Buffy couldn’t help the sarcastic and hurtful comment that slipped from her mouth.
“No,” Willow said evenly, trying to ignore the tone of the girl opposite her, sticking her hands into her pockets to try and get them warm. “She saved my life. When people do that it kinda makes you….oh I don’t know…like them?”
Buffy shrugged as though she didn’t care. Yet the timbre of her voice and her rigid position suggested otherwise. Pushing back her hair from her shoulder, she turned slightly. “She’d have to do a lot more than that for me to trust her again,” she said harshly. “I’m gonna go patrol. At least vamps hate Faith as much as I do. They don’t give me a lecture about being her friend.”
She gave Willow a brief, tight smile of goodbye, then walked away from her down the path that led to the wooded part of campus. Willow sighed, wishing that Buffy had been there in England, had experienced what she had. Then she’d know. Then she’d see. Faith wasn’t a pushover, sure she still had ‘issues’, but she was willing to admit that now. She waited until Buffy had disappeared from sight, then said the word she had wanted to all along. “Coward.”
Sighing again, Willow turned to walk up the steps to Tara’s dorm when a pair of strong hands grabbed her round the shoulders. Fetid breath leaked its way down her neck as a voice as dark as the ground it rose from whispered, “Hello there. Didn’t anyone tell you it’s dangerous out here at night?”
Feeling her body being twisted round, Willow hardly dared to look at the figure in front of her. When she did peek out from between her tightly shut lids, she saw what she had been hoping was a bad nightmare. A large, bulky face, set in the deep ridges of a vampire was grinning lasciviously at her. The face was set on top of a column of flesh that passed for a neck, atop a huge muscled body. Whoever he had been, he obviously used to work out, Willow thought, trying to pull her shoulders out of the pincer-like grip they were in.
“Not gonna say anythin’ darlin’?” he leered across to her. “I like it when they talk before they die.” He shook her like he was handling a doll, expecting her to cry for mama or want feeding. “You ain’t got any words for me?”
Willow felt her heart pounding a rhythm in her ears as she opened her eyes fully and looked at him, the saliva practically hanging from his fangs as he bared them to her. She took a breath, trying not to breathe in his dead scent as he leaned in closer.
“Uh…help?” she suggested weakly.
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Chapter 3
The vampire laughed, not even noticing how Willow recoiled as his rotten breath reached her nose. His head fell back on his shoulders as his deep voice resonated in the dark silence around them. The snarl that ended the laugh cut Willow to the quick; all her slayer training had gone out of her mind the moment his face had been pushed up against hers. Her hand was jammed up against the side of her body, pressing against her shoulder bag. Woefully she recalled that she hadn’t yet had time to shove an all-important stake into it.
Whatever would Buffy say? She thought to herself. The Slayer had told them to be prepared at all times. Guess now’s not the time for wishing I’d thought ahead, she told herself.
“Help?” The vamp was still amused, his yellow eyes turning down to stare at her. His upper lip drew back from his teeth, revealing his fangs. Up close, they seemed very pointed and sharp and….Willow stopped herself. If she fainted, there would be no chance of escape.
“You want help? Well scream away lady,” he growled at her, his words accompanied by his fingers digging in even deeper. “No one in Sunnydale gives a good god damn about you. Ain’t no help coming for you here.” He licked a blackened tongue around his fangs and bent his head closer to her, one hand pushing her head roughly to the side to expose her white neck.
“See, now that’s what I love about Sunnydale vamps.” A voice behind them said, “They’re always so wrong.”
A pair of strong hands gripped the vampire and pulled him away from Willow, his own strength no match for the dark figure that shoved him onto the ground. A fist crashed into his face, sending him off balance, rendering his consciousness to the stars. As he hit the concrete, a grunt whooshed out of his body as a shadow fell over him, blocking the light coming faintly from the lamp overhead. As he looked up, more in surprise than fear, he saw a young girl standing over him, hands planted firmly on hips. She had a smile on her face; a smile, he noted, that wasn’t exactly friendly.
“Wh….who are you?” he asked, as a heavily booted foot stood on his neck, preventing him moving.
“You know, it’s not so much a case of who am I, but more one of ‘what’ am I.” Faith said, reaching down and pulling him up with one hand on his neck until he was almost face to face with her. The stench coming from him was exciting, thrilling her Slayer blood again. The old passion returned from deep inside. It had really been too long. “I’m a Slayer buddy,” she hissed at him, her hand reaching behind her to pull out a thick wooden stake from the back of her pants, “Guess what I do?”
The vampire opened his mouth, but before words could come from it, he was pushed back with some force. Looking down, he saw the end of the stake projecting from his chest. His gaze returned to Faith, confused and bewildered. In a second, the stake clattered to the floor, surrounded by the patch of dust that he used to be. A night breeze coldly scattered his remains as Faith bent, picked up the stake and pushed it back into her pants.
She turned to see Tara holding Willow, who was watching, a little dazed. It had seemed that the moments with the vampire had lasted a lot longer than they actually had. And she could still smell him on her….the redhead grimaced. She’d never get used to that stink of death, icky and bad. Only just noticing how Tara’s arms were round her, she reached down and took the other girl’s hand, flashing her a wide ‘ok’ smile.
“Wow, Faith, good job,” she handed across the compliment to the approaching Slayer.
“Ah well y’know, lucky I was here.” Faith brushed off the thanks with a crooked grin across at Tara, whose face was etched with concern. “C’mon, we’d better get you two inside before I have to save your asses again.”
The three women moved quickly up the steps and through the heavy wooden doorway. Faith cast a backward glance towards the pathway, as though hearing or sensing something. A quick scope of the area proved fruitless though, and she shook her head, wondering if her Slayer sense was off.
From the bushes on one side of the pathway, a figure emerged. Dark in stature, its eyes were firmly fixed on the entrance to the hall, it mused for a moment before nodding slightly.
“Another Slayer.” The voice that came from the figure was gravelled and wore the experiences of time. A gloved finger rose to where a head was covered with a dark hood. No skin, or features could be seen. The finger tugged at an invisible wrinkle in the smooth cloth of the hood, then stroked downwards before dropping back by the figure’s side. “Interesting.”
Buffy wandered along between the headstones in the cemetery and sighed loudly. It was getting cold, a sure sign that the end of summer was approaching. The earlier the nights drew in, the more the vamps decided to come out. Fall in Sunnydale was a busy time for her….she sighed again; most nights in Sunnydale were busy for her. And these days, she’d gotten used to patrolling alone. Willow was busy with Tara, Xander had Anya, there wasn’t much of the Scooby Gang available these days. Sure, they got together when a big bad threatened, but the everyday mundane patrolling was hers alone.
She reached a lopsided headstone and sat for a moment, pushing at her hair. It wasn’t that she resented her friends’ relationships; it was more that she got lonely on her own. Maybe spending all that time with Riley had made her get used to being out with someone other than the undead. And now that Faith was back in town….a frown furrowed its way into her smooth brow, drawing her eyebrows together in a deep line across her head. Who knew what would happen now that Faith was back? It was all a little too much, knowing that her arch-enemy had just sauntered back into Sunnydale having saved the life of her best friend and having her stick up for her as well!
“I’ve saved her life too,” she muttered to herself, playing with the stake in her right hand, twisting it round. “Not like she hasn’t been in danger and I’ve been there…”
A noise behind her made her freeze, her Slayer senses alert and pounding suddenly in her head. Slowly she turned and scanned across the darkened cemetery, her eyes used to the night by now. Somewhere, past the row of white angels with their heads bowed, she thought she saw a figure move. Straightening up, she gripped the stake more firmly in her hand, feeling its wooden firmness against her palm, nesting comfortably in her grasp.
“You might as well just come out now and save me the bother of having to chase you,” she called loudly, her voice ringing out in the pitch black.
Nothing.
For a few moments, Buffy stood in readiness, her gaze constantly sweeping back and forth across the cemetery. When nothing appeared, she pulled a face and mumbled obscenities to herself, relaxing her grip on the stake. Grumbling, she pulled her jacket around her and trudged deeper into the darkness beyond.
“Nice room.” Faith fingered the row of fairy lights strung up across Tara’s dorm room. She tried not to stare as the two girls lovingly checked that each other was okay. Their closeness was something she had yet to feel, although the familiar ache in her gut suggested that it was something she yearned for.
“Thanks.” Tara grinned across at her, sitting down on the bed where Willow had already curled, legs folded neatly beneath her. The redhead straightened her skirt over her knees and glanced up at the Slayer, noticing that the dark circles around her eyes made her suddenly seem tired and older somehow. Looking at Faith and caring about her jerked Willow back into the past for a second. Dredging up all those memories of disgust and confusion that flashed suddenly around her brain, Willow wondered for a second if Faith could really ever change. Certainly she’d been behaving recently, but how permanent was it? She tried not to think about it but…..she sighed inwardly, could evil really ever be anything else?
“So Red, you’re okay, right?” Faith was shifting from foot to foot. Watching her like that, Willow realised with a smile that she was nervous. The famous dark Slayer was nervous! Unusual and freaky as it was, it was also kind of endearing, she agreed. Those memories faded pretty quickly as she observed the other girl’s obvious discomfort.
“I’m fine thanks to you,” she said warmly.
Faith shrugged. “Slayer stuff. Comes with the job. Y’know, savin’ lives and stuff.” She looked down at some candles on the windowsill beside her and shook her head, “Kinda different from a killing spree don’tcha think?”
“Well a change is as good as a rest, or so they say.” The words were out of Willow’s mouth before she even realised how insensitive they were. Her eyes widened and her mouth formed a perfect ‘o’ as she clamped a hand over the offending orifice.
Tara’s head jerked round and she glared at her, her head turning back to Faith just as suddenly as a sound came from the Slayer. Faith rocked backwards and forwards on her heels, her mouth curved into a perfect smile. She was laughing. Watching Willow’s distress and Tara’s amazement at her mirth made her laugh even more. She pointed at the two girls.
“You guys….” She began, but never finished as she was giggling too much.
“Oh god Faith, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“ Willow was instantly set into apologetic mode. “I mean, what I meant was that…..you’ve been away and….it’s not like you’re gonna, well, I hope you’re not gonna….”
“Jeez Red, enough with the sorries already.” Faith waved her hand around, still grinning from ear to ear. “I’ve had a change and a rest. Reckon I’m about ready to join the real world for a while.” Leaning against the heavy wooden dresser behind her, she closed her eyes and let out a breath. “Sure felt good giving that vamp the old stake.”
“Yeah, he kind of took me by surprise. I mean, Buffy had only just left.” Willow added.
“Buffy?” Faith was instantly alert, her neck craning forward at the mention of the girl’s name. Her dark eyes sought Willow’s, wanting more.
“Uh…yeah. She walked me home.”
“And Faith walked me home.” Tara smiled. “Looks like we’ve both got contacts with the Slaying world now.” She leant back against Willow as the redhead put her arm around her shoulders.
“So I guess B didn’t buy the whole ‘I’ve changed’ thing then?” Faith said, looking down at the floor miserably. The look on Willow’s face confirmed her fears. She kicked one foot against her other boot, shrugging like it didn’t matter. Only, the way her heart was plummeting down towards said boot, that whole defence mechanism felt like a pile of crap right now.
“She’s suspicious Faith.” Willow tried to console her, realising that she wasn’t doing a very good job of it.
“But we’re working on her.” Tara interjected quickly, patting Willow’s knee. “Right?”
“Sure,” agreed her girlfriend firmly. “It takes time with Buffy, you know that.”
Faith looked across at them both, wondering if she could deserve two friends, if she could come up to their expectations of her. Sometimes, it felt like it would be so easy just to slip back into her old ways. The dark side was only a step away from everything, always at her back, always calling her to follow. She needed something….or someone, to help her resist. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and stood up straight, pulling her jacket up over her shoulders. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. “Okay, I’ll stick around then.” Receiving two warm smiles from the witches, she added, “But only coz you two are so needy and defenceless.”
“Ah yes,” Willow rolled her eyes, “We are the needy ones Faith. We need you to kick bad guy ass only for us.”
Letting out a snuffle of amusement, Faith shook her head. She had never once thought that she’d be in the position to joke around with Willow, not in a million years. And now, she reminded herself, now was that chance she had often dreamt about when she’d been in that hole they called a prison. Days and nights had passed; all playing out scenes just like this one in her head. A chance to make things right. For someone to believe in her. God knows, she had never believed in herself.
“Okay, I gotta shoot,” she walked towards the door.
Tara got up off the bed and padded quietly behind her, holding the door open as Faith nodded goodbye to Willow. The dark Slayer turned to face the blonde witch in the doorway.
“Thanks Tara.”
Tara gave a smile of recognition, understanding how difficult it still was for Faith to admit to needing someone, anyone. Reaching out she squeezed Faith’s denim clad arm gently. “If you want to talk, you know where I am,” she said softly.
“Anywhere Red is. Got it.” Faith grinned and walked down the corridor.
Closing the door behind her, Tara spied her girlfriend watching her carefully. “What?”
Willow folded her arms and pouted ever so slightly. “Well you and she are getting along famously.” Her voice held a note of jealousy, Tara realised with a thrill of glee. A smile trailed its way across her full lips as she leant back on the door, arching her back slightly. The coquettish pose made Willow raise her eyebrows, although the pouty look remained.
“I like her,” was all Tara said in reply.
“I can see that.”
“So what….you’re jealous?” Tara’s voice deepened slightly as she watched Willow acknowledge and take up the game play. The blonde’s eyes met her lover’s and the two of them understood.
“Well Faith’s got that whole ‘bad girl’ thing going on. Maybe you like bad girls.” Willow teased, straightening her legs on the bed and lying back, her head propped up by the huge pillows behind her. She watched as Tara grinned, a flush snaking its way across her cheeks and down her neck. She loved making Tara blush. It was terribly cute and, she noticed, it made her incredibly excited.
“Bad girls are ok, I guess.” Tara shrugged, her eyes downcast, the smile broadening on her lips.
“Really?”
The blonde witch looked up and met her lover’s gaze once again. This time she saw the intent in them and flushed once more. Although she and Willow were confident with each other, sometimes it took no more than a look to awaken her senses. She had never met anyone that could surge feelings in her like Willow could. Sometimes it was as though Willow held an invisible switch that she flicked on and off at random. Occasionally, that randomness happened at the most inconvenient times, like that time they were in the lecture hall and Willow had slid her hand onto Tara’s knee……she caught herself short. She was drifting again. Being around Willow often made her dreamy like that.
Tara slid off her cardigan and dropped it onto the floor wondering if the janitor had been fiddling around with her heating. It sure was hot in here. Running her tongue along her lips, she realised that her mouth was suddenly quite, quite dry. “Well you know…” she faltered, wondering if this was going to be one of those times when her stutter prevented her from talking anything but gibberish. “B-bad girls are….uh….” she flushed to the roots of her hair, wishing that all this bad girl talk and the way Willow was looking her up and down wasn’t turning her on so much. Her senses reeling, she took a breath. “You’re not a bad girl, Willow.”
“I’m not?” The redhead’s eyes moved up and down her lover’s body lazily, taking it all in. She felt that she would never grow tired of watching Tara, of looking at her, of relishing that deliciously warm feeling that grew inside her when she was around. Like savouring a fine brandy in her mouth. Drinking in Tara. Blinking slowly, Willow pushed herself up onto her elbows. “Would you want me to be?” she asked, thinking aloud. She and Tara had often talked about their fantasies, she knew that Tara’s tastes were wide and varied, but it seemed as though sometimes, it was all talk. Of course, she reminded herself, that was what fantasies were for but, all the same…
A heightened breath escaped the blonde girl’s mouth as she found her lover’s eyes. The intention was implicit; it was maddening just how much she wanted Willow at this precise moment.
“I think you should be as bad as you want to be.” Tara’s voice sensuously caressed the other girl’s mind, her throaty timbre indicating just how she was feeling. And still she remained on the other side of the room, leaning seductively back against the door, her blue eyes fixed on the slight figure of the girl on her bed. “If you want to be,” she added, with a smirk.
“Come here.” Willow demanded, her breathing quickening its pace as Tara slowly crossed the gap in between them and sat down on the bed, facing Willow. A hand found its way on to Willow’s thigh and fingers began touching the redhead through the thin material of her skirt.
“I love you Willow.” Tara said softly, leaning forward to press her lips against Willow’s, feeling the sigh that wrapped itself around her as they kissed. A host of butterflies flew up from deep inside Tara’s stomach and settled around her head, sending her dizzy from just one kiss. She moaned softly against the other girl’s mouth. “I want you Willow.” Her voice lowered to a growl, as she leaned forward for another kiss.
Pulling away with a distinctly wicked smile on her lips, Willow gazed into two perfect pools of blue as she reached for the buttons on Tara’s blouse, undoing them tantalisingly slowly, one by one. Tara could hear her own breathing grow harsh and heavy as Willow pushed back the flimsy silken material and ran her hands over the warmth of the blonde girl’s breasts.
“And I want you.” Willow whispered, her mouth planting tiny nips and kisses onto the swell of Tara’s breasts. “Now,” she murmured urgently in between kisses. She pushed the shirt down the arms to where trembling hands quivered behind Tara’s full body, but didn’t release the blonde girl’s hands. Willow’s tongue reached out and traced a line of fire up Tara’s neck, lingering on her lips for a second before scoring its way down the other side. A pulse point just behind Tara’s ear throbbed, echoing Willow’s pounding heartbeat.
“See, I can be bad, if that’s what you want.” Willow whispered, her lips tickling Tara’s ear.
The blonde girl tried to put her arms around her lover and realised, with a thrill, that they were held bound by the shirt behind her body. She exhaled sharply, mouthing words that made no sense in her mind. As Willow moved her mouth down over Tara’s shoulders, she took skin between her teeth and bit down, revelling in the moan that came from the other girl’s throat, forcing its way out of her mouth with a delicious rumble.
“Willow?” Tara breathed, her voice as light as her breathing was heavy.
“Uhmm?” Willow’s mouth was still busy on her lover’s skin, whilst her fingers were working their way into the silken cups of Tara’s bra.
“Be bad.” Tara groaned. “Please be bad.”
Chapter 4
The next morning, Buffy had arranged to meet Willow at the Espresso Pump for an early jerk of caffeine. She had only had a few hours sleep after patrolling fruitlessly for most of the night. Consequently, it was a grumpy Slayer who nursed her second mocha of the hour at one of the tables in front of the shop.
Twisting her cup around with one hand, Buffy tried hard to think rationally about what Willow had told her last night. But nothing seemed rational when it came to Faith. She was unable to picture the dark Slayer without wanting to hurt her very, very much. Everything Faith had done crushed all her instincts of humanitarianism towards the girl, leaving Buffy very hurt and out for as much revenge as she could get. Besides, she reminded herself, it wasn’t like Faith was human anyway was it? So normal rules couldn’t apply to her. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a tiny voice whispered that this was a great excuse to fall back on when all else failed.
She glanced down at her watch. Willow was late. Like, almost half an hour late. Which wasn’t like her punctual friend. Glowering down at her coffee like it took complete blame, Buffy sighed. Of all people, she never expected Willow to be the one to instigate friendship between her and Faith. What the heck had she done to them in England? Another grimace patchworked her face; trust Giles’ country to fuck everyone up then send them packing. Damn the Watcher’s Council. Damn the Queen. Damn everyone. She closed her eyes and briefly wondered how much caffeine it would take for her to wake up properly.
“Buffy!” A cheery voice sparked open her eyes. She watched, still scowling as Willow and Tara practically skipped up to the table and sat down opposite her.
She glanced over their flushed faces and chirpy demeanours and wanted to hate them for being able to get some sleep. Although, at closer glance, she could see that both girls appeared exhausted, grey rings circling their eyes like wary prey.
“Jetlag getting to you?” she asked. Both girls looked confused, gazing back at her with blank expressions on their faces. “You look kinda tired,” she suggested.
Willow and Tara shared a glance, at which Tara flushed bright red and looked down at the table, mumbling something about coffee and rushing away inside the shop. Willow watched her go, grinning broadly all over her pale face. Turning back to Buffy, she brushed a stray strand of red hair from her eyes. “Buffy, you’ll never guess…” she began, then giggled, a noise that irritated Buffy far more than she would have ever suspected. “Tara and I –“
“I got it Will.” Buffy couldn’t help smirking despite herself. “You two are glad to be back together again. Let’s just…ah…let’s leave that scenario in its own scary mental place huh?”
Settling back in her chair, Willow folded her arms and surveyed her best friend with a somewhat judgemental expression. “Who’s a grouchy Slayer this morning then?” Her tone was playful, almost mocking.
“Didn’t sleep much last night.” Buffy grunted, gulping at her mocha. “Patrol was a bust, nothing’s moving. And I ended up following non-existent creatures of the night all….uh….night.” she finished lamely, her gaze dropping to her lap. She shook her head, “And I’m so tired I can hardly see straight.”
“So why don’t you take a break?”
Buffy’s blue eyes quickly turned upward to meet her friend’s own green ones, widened in concern. “Huh?” she pulled a face. “I’m the Slayer Will, I can’t just go on vacation. It’s not like that here.” She tried to stifle a yawn and couldn’t. “You know that. Sacred duty and all.”
Tara returned to the table and placed a cup of steaming coffee in front of Willow, who smiled as the blonde girl sat down. She placed her hand on Tara’s knee, squeezing her thanks. Another flush echoed its way up and down Tara’s neck as she felt Willow’s firm grip remind her of the previous night. She quickly sipped at her coffee, ignoring the fact that it was scalding hot.
“Well you know, now there’s another Slayer in town…” Willow began, then turned to Tara. “Buffy’s feeling the strain.” Tara nodded, her eyes flicking across to Buffy.
“I am not feeling the strain!” Buffy sat bolt upright, her senses reeling. “Hey, I’m just tired. It’s not like I can’t do my job. And as for you suggesting for one millisecond that Faith can do what I do….” She shook her head violently, “Two words Will, no freaking way.”
“Um…that’s three words.” Tara said quietly.
“Whatever,” Buffy brushed her off with a wave of her hand. She fixed her gaze on Willow, who was sitting pretty impassively across from her. Was this how it was going to be? Suddenly her closest friends turned on her and told her to retire?
“Buffy, I wasn’t suggesting that at all.” Willow’s voice was calm and thoughtful. “I just kinda thought, you know, you could do half the week and she could do half the week and together you could do the week and get the demons and….” She trailed off, feeling the chill of the Slayer gaze. “Or maybe not.”
A strong pair of hands clamped themselves over Willow’s eyes as a voice whispered by her ear in an amazingly poor foreign accent. “Give me money or the witch…she die!”
“Xander!” Willow turned and hugged the young man standing behind her. Her eyes slipped over his shoulder to where a girl stood a few paces away, her gaze accusatory and full of impending doom. “And Anya.” The delighted tone slipped from her voice as she espied the ex-demon.
“Back from the land of Giles safe and sound.” Xander’s voice was happy and playful. He grabbed two chairs from an adjoining table and sat down, leaning his elbows on the table. “My two favourite witches back in Sunnydale at last. Gotta say, it was kinda weird without you.”
“Yes, we had no gay element to our days.” Anya added, in what she assumed was a conversational tone. The shocked expression she received from Tara and the frown she felt from Willow made her suspect otherwise.
Xander apologetically grinned his wide smile across to Tara, who smiled back. “So what’s the what now you’re back?”
“Willow thinks I should retire.” Buffy stated flatly, watching as the redhead opened her mouth to say something to the contrary, but, sensing the Slayer’s mood, shut it again audibly.
“Retire, well that’s not such a….wait, retire?” Xander’s face froze in an expression that would have been comical had the mere thought of it not struck fear into him.
“Can Slayers retire?” Anya mused, crossing one leg over her knee. “I guess seeing as I’m no longer a demon. You could no longer be a Slayer,” she directed her comment towards Buffy, who flashed her a dark look.
“I didn’t say retire.” Willow pursed her lips. “I said share the responsibility.”
“Ah, I sense a Scooby plan forming.” Xander flicked his gaze between Buffy and Willow. “Guess all those times being jumped by vamps had to pay off sometime.” He settled back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “Where do we start?”
“We start,” Buffy glanced at Willow, “by telling Xander that Faith’s back in town.”
“Faith?” Xander gasped, then recovered himself and coughed. “Uh…I mean, Faith? Here?”
“Oh yeah.” Buffy nodded, finishing her mocha with a dramatic gulp. “Good old Faith, the proverbial bad penny, always turning up when you least want it to.”
“We kicked her ass once, we can do it again.” Xander proclaimed gleefully, smacking a fist into the palm of one hand. “Right?”
“Wrong.” Willow shook her head. “She’s not bad.”
For a moment, the face of her old friend worked its way through several expressions, finally deciding on bewildered. His mouth hanging open, Xander shook his head, as though the action would dispel what he thought Willow had just said. Looking across at Buffy, the Slayer shrugged at him wordlessly. Surely that was wrong? If he knew anything in his young years, Xander Harris knew that Anya was partial to whipped cream and that, without a doubt, Faith was bad. Evil.
“Will….” He leant over and touched her forehead gingerly with one hand, “Are you feeling okay? I mean, what the hell happened to you in England? You go away normal Willow and come back,” he twirled his finger around near his temple, “crazy gal.”
“I’m not crazy Xander,” Willow spoke as though explaining something to a very small child, her voice soft and deliberate. “Look, why don’t Tara and I tell you everything whilst Buffy gets some rest. Things will make sense later. Why don’t we all meet at Giles this evening? We can talk about things then.”
Buffy stood up, yawning again. She stretched her arms up above her head, feeling the gratifying crack of her shoulders. “Fine, whatever,” she agreed reluctantly, still annoyed with Willow’s insistent defence of Faith. “I gotta get me some shuteye.” She shook her head, wishing she could get rid of the exhaustion that seemed to be slowing her down even more than it had done before the two mochas. “See you guys later.” Without waiting for them to reply, she turned and walked away.
Faith woke up with a start, sweating and breathless. It took a couple of minutes before she realised where she was. Sunnydale. The town seeped into her barely conscious mind almost before she blinked at the dreams, still fresh in her head. She had been trapped.
Inhaling deeply, Faith could taste the dampness of her shabby room and she grimaced in disgust. She knew how crappy this place was, there was no mistaking that. Sitting up in her bed, she heard the springs squeak agonisingly below her. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and leaned forward, dropping her head into her hands, her strong fingers massaging her temples, as though to assuage the dream’s hold on her mind.
Buffy got the dreams too, she knew that. Someone, Giles she thought, had mentioned a prophetic element to them, but Faith had always dismissed that as Slayer hooey. But that dream last night…she let out her breath slowly, trying to regulate her pulse that was beating like a whole drum kit in her head, cymbals too. The shadowy figure in her dream had seemed so real, and yet, not real. Like something only she could have created.
She had been trapped, unable to move or fight. The shadow figure had been so strong, much stronger than any of the demons she’d battled against before. Stronger even than that bitch Morgan Le Fay and her ancient magick. Faith shuddered, despite herself. So often in the prison cell where she’d spent the best part of a year, she had slept soundly. For the first time in her life, she knew she was in a place where no one could get to her, where she could harm no one but herself. And that was the way that Faith liked it.
But now… She lifted her head from her hands and smoothed her fingers back through her tousled black hair. Now she was free, that sense of liberation scared her more than anything. Almost as much as the shadow figure of her dream.
For a few moments, she sat absolutely still, staring beyond the faded curtains to a place where only she had been. She wasn’t sure if she was ever going to be able to come back, even with friends. Been there, done that, screwed it up, she thought fiercely, her eyes flashing with regret and self-loathing. There was only one person who could pull her back again, properly, she knew that. And, she stood up, that person wanted her dead.
Stretching her arms above her head, Faith caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror hanging on the opposite wall. She turned her head away, hardly able to look herself in the eye. So much time, so many things, and yet she always came back. Always returned to the one thing she could rely on.
Buffy.
“So let me get this straight,” Xander’s eyes were wide and his words tumbled over one another in an effort to get them all out, “you guys actually met Merlin…the Merlin?” He leaned forward eagerly, resting his arms on his legs.
Willow nodded, a smile on her face. She reached across beneath the table and took Tara’s hand in her own. Linking their fingers, she felt Tara give her hand a quick squeeze. Her smile broadened.
Anya gave a snort of dismissal. All eyes turned to gaze at her. Shifting in her seat, she shrugged. “Merlin,” she said carelessly, waving her hand around in front of her. “He was just a boy whilst I was laying waste to villages.”
“I thought you were a revenge demon.” Tara said.
“Well I was, sure, but I did a little pillaging in my time, you know, when things were slow.” Anya explained. A tiny smile played around the corners of her mouth as she recalled memories of centuries past. “Merlin was a kid, hardly aware of his powers. He was kinda cute though, as far as I remember. I got out of the whole merry old England thing before he got started.”
“He wasn’t a kid when we met him.” Willow said defensively, even though the thought of Merlin and the Watcher’s Council filled her with shame and not a little regret, pinching the edges of her mind with sparkling clarity. “It was kinda weird though,” she continued, casting a reproving glance at Anya before the ex-demon could open her mouth, “I learned so much from him, we both did, but he was still part of the Watcher’s Council.”
“Bad guys.” Xander asserted firmly, pushing his lips together and nodding his head.
“It – it wasn’t all bad.” Tara interjected softly, “We did kind of um….save the world.”
“The English part of it anyway.” Willow grinned.
“See, you go on vacation and do that, whilst we languish here in Sunnydale doing absolutely zip.” Xander’s voice sounded almost envious.
“We had lots of sex.” Anya offered, her hand stroking down Xander’s arm. He opened his mouth, then shut it again. Best not to say anything and pretend she never spoke.
Willow and Tara looked at each other and grinned foolishly, sharing what was obviously a private joke. Anya pulled a face at them, knowing exactly what they were laughing about. She didn’t understand the whole ‘gay’ thing, she didn’t really want to. But she supported their relationship. As long as Willow and Tara were together, there was less chance of one of them wanting her Xander.
“So what are we gonna do about Faith?” Xander asked, looking to Tara and Willow for answers.
They didn’t have any. Willow shook her head and frowned, her brow crinkling up over her bright eyes. “I really don’t know. I think she needs some kind of closure, you know?”
“The only kind of closure I’d like to see is a cell door, locking her in.” Xander grunted, remembering far too much about Faith than was good for him. Touching his neck nervously, he bit at his bottom lip. “Are you sure she’s not just waiting for the right time to kill us all?”
“She had the chance in England.” Tara pushed at a lock of hair, securing it behind her ear. “She could have let us die then. But she didn’t. I think, you know, she’s sorry.”
“No offence Tara, but it’s gonna take more than an ‘I’m sorry’ to convince me. And the Buffster.”
“I know Xander,” Willow sighed. “I know.”
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