Rating: PG-13ish for mild language and sexual scenes. Nothing worse than the show.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Spoilers: Season three, Enemies.
Summary: Faith's POV around Enemies, and an AU ending. I know the title sounds silly, but it's really not.
Feedback: PLEASE REVIEW!! I respond to all my reviews, and I, uh, need fb to eat.
Distribution: What's mine is yours.. if you tell me where you're taking it.
Author's Note: It's been a while.
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~Part: 1~
Mayor Wilkins took me for a walk today. Like I was his puppy or something. Maybe I am. I never had a real dad, maybe this is what it's like. He bought me nice things, my own room, he's nice to me, so now when he says "jump" I say, "how high?" Is that how it works? Maybe he's my sugar daddy more than he realizes. How wrong would it be for me to say "No, I don't feel like walking."?Not that I would. I'd do anything for the Mayor, even though he doesn't want everything. He just wants me to be his daughter. I wonder... did he use to have a daughter? Maybe I should ask him. Nah, that'd be wrong.
Did I just actually think something would be wrong? My God, Buffy turns everyone into a saint. I really can't wait to put our little plan into motion. We're bringing back her nightmare.. naughty Angel. It'll be so much fun. I get to knock Angel off his goddamn pedestal, and show Buffy that she can't save the world. She can't save me.
Well, me and the Mayor were walking, out on the main street of Sunnydale. That cracked me up. Here I was, defender of the world, Slayer of all things evil, walking down Main Street with a demon and plotting to end the world. Amazing the things that amuse you.
We walked by this girl, real little, maybe seven. Blonde hair. Reminded me of this picture of B I saw. So, this girl's wearing this real frilly, long dress, and these shoes that are about three times as big as her feet. It was obvious she was playing dress-up. Right when I saw her, I thought, that's me. I'm just that little, innocent girl, dressin' up in my mom's skin-tight leather and dark lipstick, going out and pretending to be the biggest bad, and I'm really just some lost little girl. I just need someone to come show me the right way to go, and I'll hop right on the straight and narrow. I'll go embrace my sacred duty and kill evil, instead of looking up to it.
I got kinda thrown out of that thought when these two big arms wrapped around the girl, one going over her mouth and one around her waist, and pulled her back into the alley she was standing by. My senses got all tingly, and I knew it was a vampire. I don't know why, but I let out a shout and start running to the alley. Mayor shouts out my name and I ignore him. I have to save that girl. I have to. It was just because I wanted to kill something, though. No way I wanted to be a goddamn hero.
I get to the alley and I see this vamp, morphed out, bending down to the girl's neck. "Hey!" I shout. He looks up. I punch him, and he staggers back. I grab the girl in my arms, and she screams. Guess who comes runnin' into the alley? Yep, the Marsha fucking Brady of Sunnyhell.
"Faith! So, now you're feeding vampires, too? What, demons not enough for you now?" She gives me a kinda leer, the closest thing to one that she can manage, when she says that.
Now, I know I said I'd do anything for the Mayor. And I meant it. If he wanted it... well, I've had worse. And for worse reasons. But for some reason, it seemed important to me to defend him. Not that Buffy and her oh- so-untarnished halo would be able to see that, but I had to try. "It's not like that."
"Really? Then why are you about to make with the Beelzebub worship? Let me guess: that's not really a girl, it's a demon? Oh, and the only way to destroy it is to feed it to a vampire, right?"
"No! I mean it's not like that with the mayor! And not with her, either. I'm not giving her to the vamp, B. I'm saving her."
She laughed at that. "Yeah sure. The mayor gives you all that stuff 'cause you said 'please'. I believe that. Oh, and I'm real glad to see you saving people. All that stuff about you killing was you experimenting, and now you're back to saving people again."
"Young lady, are you disturbing my Faith?" Shit. I really don't want the Mayor to see me around B. She really doesn't bring out the best in me. She doesn't.
I turn to him. "This is between me and her. I'll be out in a minute."
"Now Faith, do you really think I'm going to let you fight her? You could get hurt."
I glance down at the girl in my arms, and then at B, and then finally at Mayor. "She won't hurt me. Not tonight."
"Faith.."
"She won't. I swear. Please, just let us talk."
"Are you sure?"
"Of course she's sure." Buffy started walking towards Mayor. "Let's see how well you fight."
Damn it. She's gonna find out he's invincible. That's supposed to be a secret. "B. Leave him alone."
She glances at me. I look at Mayor. "Oh, alright." He says. "I'll go order us something in that shop over there." He points at the Expresso Pump. "Don't be too long."
We watch him go, silently. B realizes I'm touching her, staining her precious aura, and shakes my hand off. I can tell she really wants to punch me, 'cause her hand are in fists and she keeps looking between my face and the girl in my arms. "You know what's wrong with you?" I ask.
"Yep. You. But I'm guessing you have some kind of deep, psychological speech to give me, since you know me so well and you have such a great moral compass."
I decided to ignore her. I've watched her fight, and I know what she does. She draws whoever she's fighting into verbal exchanges instead of physical, so they're concentrating on saying something witty, or deciphering her lack of grammar, so she can catch them unawares. It's not like she's stuck around this long because she's good at what she does. Please. "You can't see anything in shades of grey. You can't admit that maybe Wilkins could be being nice to me, because he's a demon and it's too hard for you to kill him if you picture him as nice, and, because you're not getting any, you have to assume I'm giving him some. And you can't accept that maybe I can be evil and plotting with the latest evil to hit Sunnydale and be interested in saving some little girl."
"That's because nothing is grey. You're not trying to save this girl, you're getting something out of it. And maybe you aren't sleeping with the Mayor, but you're doing his dirty work. You're probably his strongest lackey. Do you really think he's not gonna give you what you want? No one is nice because they're altruistic. Altruisim isn't real, okay? You're getting something, the Mayor's getting something, even Giles gets paid to help me!"
"You really are something, you know that? 'Altruism isn't real'? Of course not. Not one person does something because they've got such a great soul. So, B, how are you gonna deal with this, huh? When you go home and look at your Scooby Gang, are you going to be thinking 'what do they get out of this'? Well, here's something else for you to think about. What if they can get something more out of being evil? What are they going to do then? Do you think they'll turn on you? How long before they go for the bigger reward?"
This is great. Foreshadowing for when evil Angel comes back. I'll have to remember to tell her that we offered a choice, explained he could waste his time lusting after her and being miserable until B got bored and finally realized her duty was staking vamps, no matter what she felt about them, and put him down, or he could come join me and Mayor and be great again. Oh yeah. I can't wait to see her face.
B looked about ready to kill me, but thankfully, the vamp, who I musta punched pretty hard, because he hadn't got up the whole time we were pulling the Socrates act, came and punched her. Hah. What an idiot. Here's me, holding a little girl, and here's B, about ready to kill something.
She gets to. I don't think I've ever seen her kill a vamp that fast. She doesn't even do her normal taunting routine, just turns, slams him into the wall, pulls out a stake and slams it into him. I musta really got to her, because she missed. By several inches. Lucky for her, the vamp wasn't strong enough to get up. Musta been a fledgeling. I watched her wriggling the stake around, slowly. She didn't just pull it out and plunge it back in, ending it. I think she actually enjoyed torturing that vamp. I never thought I'd see the day little-miss-innocent enjoyed torture. Hmm. Wonder if she'll enjoy it when I'm doing it to her? Guess I'll have to wait to see.
When he finally turns to dust, the girl in my arms screams again, and turns to me, burrowing into my arms. That really startled me. I mean, here's this little mini-B, seven-year-old kid turning to me for comfort. It startled me so much I dropped her. How could she turn to me? I shouldn't give comfort to little kids; I'd probably end up scarring them for life. It just didn't make sense.
She lets out this little sound when she hits the ground, a whimper-thing, and B glares at me. She stalks right over and picks up the girl. She didn't even notice how vulnerable she was leaving herself, bending over right in front of me. I coulda snapped her neck, or staked her. Instead I just watched her. It was kinda amusing; grown-up B holding little girl B.
"The only reason I'm not hurting you is this little girl. If we meet again..."
She didn't finish the threat. Instead, she hoisted the little girl in her arms and set out to the street, presumably to look for her parents. I watched her go. When she was out of sight, I went and joined Mayor at the Expresso shop.
~Part: 2~
"So, Faithy, what did your little friend want?"
"Just to rant about what a superior, god-like being she is.. you know, the usual."
"Now, Faith, you know better than to believe her. You're better than her, not the other way around. Why aren't you eating your cookies?"
I didn't look at him, sometimes he can be so damn optimistic. Maybe he didn't notice when I killed someone and turned evil. I'll have to ask him about that someday. But, I picked up a cookie and ate it. He's the closest thing to a father I got, and I want him to be happy.
the next day...
I'm out patrolling, having a blast gettin' all worked up, when B shows up. She looks real off, like her boyfriend just turned and tried ta kill her or something. Wait, that was last year.
"What's with the look, B?"
"I came to apologize."
"Not accepted. Now get the hell away from me."
"I understand that-"
"You just don't get it, do you? You don't understand anything about me. Stop trying."
"You should be mad." Bitch. Of course I *should* be mad. I don't need you to give me your permission.
I punch her. I just couldn't take her anymore. She was talking down to me like I was some kinda two-year-old. "Yeah, I should, huh?'
She doesn't fight back. "I deserved that."
"No shit."
"But I still wanna talk to you." Does she ever give up? I just walk away from her, not even bothering to argue with her. She runs to catch up with me. Damn it. "What I said was wrong." Has she heard of a thesauras? 'Wrong' is how she describes everything that's not 100% suburban rightness. Ya know what colour black and white make? That's called grey, B. You should really look into 'Grey for Dummies' or somethin'. "I shouldn't have said it, and I wanna take it back."
"That's nice, B. I want a puppy."
"Faith, I'm serious. I'm trying to make it right here, and you're just being, ergh! Let's start over. I wanna patrol. With you."
"I wanna patrol. Without you."
"Faith, please. Let me patrol with you." I just ignore her and keep walking. "Faith?"
"Look, just shut up, and I'll let you. Okay?" God. There aren't gonna be any vamps if she doesn't shut the hell up.
"Okay." We walk, silently, for a few minutes. B breaks the silence. "About what I said.."
"Forget it." I don't wanna talk about that. I shouldn'ta said what I said, but somebody needed to knock her off her self-made pedestal.
"No. I shouldn't of said what I did."
"Well, the death threats kinda threw everyone off."
"Faith, I- I wouldn't kill you. You know that, right?"
"You're not the killing type."
"I'm the Slayer."
"Of bad, evil things. Not people." Because we all know people are always 'of the good'. That must be why she doesn't like me- I don't fit into her theory of 'people=good, ugly scaly/slimy demon=bad.' She'll be so lost when she gets outta school.
"Right. But I kill every night." She sounds kinda worried. Aww, poor B.
"I know you wouldn't off me."
"Good. As long as you know that." We walk for a few more minutes, and she once again breaks the silence. "Me and Angel are going to a movie tomorrow. You wanna come with?"
"Not really."
"Oh. Patrol after?"
"Nothing better. Then maybe we can Bronze it." If I can get B to the Bronze, anywhere she's not such a stuck-up bitch, she can actually be fun.
"Maybe," she answers, vaguely. Then she starts going on and on about her and Angel and all the tension between 'em. By now she musta scared off all the vamps in town; any nearby would hear her coming and leave, so I let my mind wonder.
When I was little, my mom used to leave me alone, at home. I'd go in her room, try on her clothes, look at myself in the cracked mirror in our bathroom. Once she came home early, sober and unhappy, and found me, her clothes dragging on my short, childhood body. She beat me so hard I had bruises for weeks. That was a good night. Most nights she'd come home in the mornings, right before I left to catch the school bus, or not at all. I'd have to get myself up, get dressed, and go to school. The worst was when she'd come home drunk. She'd vomit everywhere, and make me clean it up, or tell me what she had been doing at night. Mom's why I would never let anyone pimp for me. I saw what she got letting some low-classer boss her around, and I wouldn't let anyone do that to me.
I'm jerked out of my thoughts by Buffy shaking my shoulder. "Hey! Were you listening?" she asks.
"No."
"Well. Pay attention this time. Last week, me and Angel-"
"Look, B, I, uh, wanna go. I'll see you tomorrow." I walk off, ignoring her protests. For once she doesn't chase after me.
~~~*~~~
Buffy: It doesn't drive you crazy, when we're close?
Am I the only one who would find it amusing if he said yes?
Angel: Watch this.
Well, that's just disgusting. Ew. Is that a salive trail?
Angel: See? Safe as houses.
They go back to kissing. Okay, I like those cookies I had earlier, thank you. I think I'd better intercede.
Me: Check out the lust bunnies.
Buffy: Patrol?
Yes, B. It is your sacred duty, you know.
Angel: Council has you back on active duty?
Isn't he supposed to be smart?
Me: Finally. They want us down by Mercer.
Buffy: Okay. Goodnight.
She follows orders really well. I wonder what she and Angel do, since they're busy not doing it.
Angel: I'll see you soon.
Why isn't he gonna patrol with us? Oh, B probably warned him to stay away. Wouldn't want him to have to hang out with something like me, because, you know, he's so good and pure and has never done anything wrong in 250 years.
Me: Don't worry, big guy. Just keeping her warm for you.
Buffy puts her arm through mine and we leave to go to the nearest cemetery. I would pull away, but I'm too amused by her hypocrisy. Wasn't she threatening to kill me a few nights ago? I always knew she'd crack one of these days. We don't talk much on our way there, but by the time we get there, I have to push a few buttons.
Me: Gotta tell you, B. The willpower thing, nice job.
Buffy: Thanks.
Oh, don't think I'm letting it go at that.
Me: But, the close but no cigar thing with Angel. I don't know if I could handle, you know, the way you're not handling it.
Buffy: Faith, when it comes to Angel, do me a favor. Duck!
I duck and B punches a demon behind me. Ya know, I'm a slayer too. I coulda just as easily back-kicked him. It's not hard. I wonder if she wants a demonstration?
Demon: Ow! Ooh! What are you, nuts? Going around punching people?
Buffy pulls off its hat to reveal two horns growing out of its forehead.
Buffy: People?
Demon: So what, I'm a demon. That makes it okay?
We both pull out our stakes. Oh no, we're getting synchronized! This is not good.
Demon: Hold it, whoa! Stake me now, and you never find out what I got for ya, huh? Think about it. Demon seeks Slayers, highly unusual?
No, not really. It's been happening an awful lot lately.
Me: Talk fast.
Demon: How would you like to get your hands on the Books of Ascension?
Shit.
Buffy: Never heard of 'em.
Big surprise.
Demon: Books of Ascension. Very powerful works and I'm not talking about the prose. They deal with some, ah, dark stuff. And the Mayor would hate for somebody to get ahold before he, ah, well you know.
Yeah, he would. Just say no, B. You can't handle the higher learning stuff, like books.
Buffy: Don't know. Before he what?
Demon: Hey, hey, read 'em and weep. That's all I got to say.
Tomorrow, I get the books. Meet me here and if the price is right, well I give the books to you.
Buffy: Not really looking to trade with a demon.
Demon: And if this were still a barter economy, that would be a problem. I want cash, princess, five large for the whole set.
Me: So you can buy, I'm guessing here, some skin care products.
This demon was more wrinkly than David Brinkley.
Demon: Plane ticket. Out of the Hellmouth before its adios, Slayer Loco. So, five G's, what do you say?
Me: I think "Die Fiend" sums it up, wouldn't you say.
The Demon jumps between us and runs away.
Buffy: Oh, let him go. I don't think he falls into the deadly threat to humanity category.
What happened to Ms. Kill All Demons? Not to mention humans who do 'wrong'?
Me: A demon's a demon.
Buffy: I'd like to know about these Books of Ascension. Anything that would pin the Mayor down would be great. Me: Yeah. It'd be great.
I wrap up the slay sweep as fast as I can and head for the Mayor's. His minions know better than to mess me with me and I stroll into his office and sit down. I tell him about the demon and he starts pacin' and questionin' me.
Mayor: And what exactly did this demon look like?
Me: Demonic?
Mayor: Ah. And you say he has the Books of Ascension, or will soon, and he was, what, willing to sell them?
Me: That's what I said.
He's over a hundred. Maybe he can't hear anymore.
Mayor: Hmm. You know what I wish? I wish you'd pull your hair back. I know, I know, fashion's not exactly my thing, but, gosh darn it, you know, you've got such a nice face. I can't understand why you hide it.
He's more random than that red-headed bitch. I mean witch. I wish he'd shut up about how I look, though. It's makin' me a little edgy. It's not pleasant to hear your fucking father figure lie to you to make you feel good.
Me: Yeah, sure. Whatever. It's just a matter of time before this demon guy is gonna spill. Then Buffy and the superfriends are gonna...
Mayor: You know, you worry too much for a girl for your age. That's unnecessary stress. Luckily, I've got just the thing.
He pours a glassa milk and hands it to me. I wonder where the cookies are?
Mayor: There you go. Now, first you load up on calcium. Then find this demon, kill the heck out of him, and bring the books to me.
I look at the milk glass and set it down without drinking. I don't do milk. Reminds me too much of other stuff I'd rather not be swallowing.
Me: And if Buffy gets to him first?
I'm getting real tired of that B gettin' to stuff I want first.
Mayor: Oh, well. Frankly I don't like to think about that. I like good, positive, up thoughts. If you fail me in that way. Well, you know, replacing Mr. Trick was chore enough. Oh, come on, don't worry. Drink up. There's nothing uncool about healty teeth and bones.
I go over to Willy's, beat 'im up, and find out where the demon is. I go over to his place and he's packing a suitcase when I kick down his door.
Demon: Hey, Slayer! You know, I wasn't expecting company. Give me a minute and I'll have the place tidied up for you.
Me: You got the books?
Demon: Well, that depends. You got my money?
I punch him. I really hate it when the enemy tries to get an attitude. That's my deal.
Demon: You're tough in negotiations and I respect that. Check 'em out. Now ah, that is quality merchandise. That's worth five grand easy. Me: Books of Ascenscion.
Demon: Mm hmm. Original editions and everything. Uh, great condition. Okay, it's a little worn on one spine, some slight foxing, but otherwise, perfect. Now, the five grand, it's ah, you know, negotiable.
Me: I don't like to haggle.
I pull out a knife-God do I love knives- and stab him. We roll around on the floor a bit and then I kill him. The blood on my hands takes me back to the last time I had some in the same spot.
I leave and go to Angel's, just like me and Mayor planned. He's reading when I get there.
Angel: Faith.
Me: Angel. I got nowhere else to go. Look, I hate asking for help, but I'm asking, cause, uh, I'm in trouble. I'm in trouble. The real bad kind.
Maybe I should try to get a few acting gigs. I'm real good at this.
Angel: It's okay.
Me: No, it's a couple of county lines over from okay, believe me.
Angel: Look, just talk. Come on. Start from the beginning.
Me: Mind if I skip past the 'mom never loved me' part and get right to it? I'm scaring myself.
Angel: I know the feeling.
Me: That's why I came to you. I don't want to get all twelve steppy, but remember when you told me that killing people would make me feel like some kind of god? (shows him her bloody hands) I think I just came down to earth. It's not human if that's what you're thinking. Not that that makes me feel any better or this guy any less dead.
Angel: Faith, you need help. You can't do this alone.
Funny, I just did. Funnier, I'm here, moron. With you, which would make me unalone.
Me: I know. For real now, I'm scared. Scared of what I am, what I'm turning into. Cold-blooded straight up killer. Like you.
Angel: Not like me. I didn't have a choice. But you do. You can stop this.
Me: Believe me, I don't want to end up the way everybody said I would, dead or alone or a loser.
Oh, wait, I'm already one of those. Sometimes two.
Angel: No, you don't have to.
Me: I don't know. Maybe it's too late for me.
Angel: It's not.
Me: Angel, I'm so scared.
I hug him.
Angel: It's alright, shh, it's okay.
We hug for a minute, and then pull apart. We hesitate, and I look down at his lips, but Angel pulls back before I can move in. Damn.
Angel: Whoa. Faith, I, look, I can be here for you. But not like that, alright? I'm with Buffy.
Me: Buffy, yeah. I didn't mean it like that. Maybe I did, but I wouldn't press it. You love her, don't you.
Everybody loves Buffy.
Angel: I love her.
Me: Good for you. The two of you, you're lucky. Friends?
Angel: Yeah, we're friends.
Me: Then I'm lucky too. I'd better go.
Yeah, I'm just the luckiest girl ever. God I need to go somewhere, get rid a this memory. Angel might be a nice piece of ass, but the only reason I want him is cause he's B's. If I ever get a man, he won't be so.. corny.
Angel: Where?
Me: I need to cool down. Spend some time alone. Don't worry about me. You've been a big help. Just knowing somebody cares. Hey, I know I shouldn't be asking this, but do you think if things were different that things between you and me would be different, too?
Angel: We'll never know.
Me: Right. How could we?
Someone would have to take away your soul, or something, for us to know. And how would that happen?
Angel: Take care of yourself.
Me: Lifetime of practice.
I kiss 'im on the cheek and leave.
When I get back to my apartment, the mayor and I conference.
Me: It's not like I wasn't trying, okay?
Mayor: Hey, there's no need to convince me. I'm sure you gave it your level best. I just don't understand what that boy could be thinking?
Me: Try Buffy Summers, like in a big, fat, one track way.
Mayor: Hey, come on, don't be discouraged. You're a bright, young, energetic girl with a whole life ahead of her. And I won't tolerate brooding. So you couldn't give him that one moment of true happiness.
Me: I was thinking more along the lines of a long weekend, but okay.
Mayor: And he spurns your advances. So be it. There's more than one way to skin a cat. And I happen to know that's factually true. We want to take Angel's soul away. If we can't do it by giving him happiness, well, by golly, we'll just have to do it in the most painful way imaginable.
I almost feel sorry for Angel.
Later, at Angel's mansion...
Finally. The shaman's here, taking Angel's soul. The look in his eyes is priceless. I wish vamps took pics; this is a Kodak moment. I guess I'll just have to remember it.
I like the way he's looking at me. I knew he'd be a lotta fun. Maybe I'll be getting some hot sex tonight.
Much later, still at Angel's mansion...
Buffy's just coming to. I can't wait to tell her about the great times me and Angel have been having. I wonder what she's gonna say when I tell her about all the screaming that's gone on; me screaming Angels' name, Angel screaming mine, that girl screaming when Angel drained her. I wonder if she'll try to say it wasn't Angel, like he did. God did he get mad when I called him Angel. He backhanded me and yelled "I'm NOT Angel. I'm Angelus." But I knew it was Angel. He just wanted some kinda excuse so he could pretend he wasn't the one doing all these things. Maybe he has some kinda head disease.
Angel: Morning, sleepyhead. You know what I just can't believe? All of our time together and we never tried chains. Well, can't dwell on the past, especially with the future we have ahead.
Yeah, I'm really sure you never tried 'em. That's why B's all 'yes, sir, what else can I get you, sir?' mosta the time. I mean, she tries to hide it with all her snide remarks, but we all know someone's got her whipped. Oh, wait. That's her I-maintain-the-belief-that-I'm-better-than-the-fucking-Pope-by-being-so-ready-to-do-the-right-thing attitude. Okay, maybe you didn't try chains.
Me: Bondage looks good on you, B. The outfit's all wrong, but, hey!
It really did look bad. I tried to get Angel to let me dress her up in some of my clothes, but he seemed really against it. Wonder why.
Buffy: You don't know what you're doing.
My little B's all grown up. Imagine that. She sounds just like every wanna-be-in-authority figure I've ever had the displeasure of meeting. She should be a counselor when she grows up.
Me: Really? Weird, because something about all this just feels so right. Maybe it's one of those unhappy childhood things. See, when I was a kid I used to beg my mom for a dog. Didn't matter what kind. I just wanted, you know, something to love.
I paused for a moment and kissed Angel, just to show her who he's loving now.
Me: A dog's all I wanted. Well, that and toys.
I lifted up the blanket I hid all of mine and Angel's new toys under. Wouldn't it be great if B ended up with one of those lovely diseases I picked up? She probably knows not to share blood with anyone. Too bad she doesn't have a choice.
Me: But mom was so busy, you know, enjoying the drinking and passing out parts of life, that I never really got what I wanted, until now.
Buffy: Faith, listen to me very closely. Angel's a killer. When he's done with me, he'll turn on you.
No shit, B. In case you haven't noticed, I'm a killer too. And vamps? Kinda my specialty. I think I'll manage. But it's real sweeta you to be concerned when I'm about to kill you.
Angel: She's right. I probably will.
How could she not have noticed what an annoying smart ass he is? I wonder what would be worse, her being tortured by him or her watching me stake him? Maybe both. Yeah. When we got done with the torture, I'll stake him. But he's really good in the sack. Guess he's a keeper. For a little.
Me: Yeah? Hunh. Guess we'll just have to keep you around for a while then. Before we get started, I just want you to know, if you're a screamer, feel free.
I wanna hear her scream, suffer for the shit she's pulled me through since I got here.
Buffy: Why, Faith? What's in it for you?
Me: What isn't? You know, I come to Sunnydale. I'm the Slayer. I do my job kicking ass better than anyone. What do I hear about everywhere I go? Buffy. So I slay, I behave, I do the good little girl routine. And who's everybody thank? Buffy.
Buffy: It's not my fault.
Like hell its not.
Me: Everybody always asks, why can't you be more like Buffy? But did anyone ever ask if you could be more like me?
Angel: I know I didn't.
Maybe I will be staking him.
Me: You get the Watcher. You get the mom. You get the little Scooby gang. What do I get? Jack squat. This is supposed to be my town!
Buffy: Faith, listen to me!
Me: Why? So you can impart some special Buffy wisdom, that it? Do you think you're better than me? Do you? Say it, you think you're better than me.
Buffy: I am. Always have been.
Bitch.
Me: Um, maybe you didn't notice. Angel's with me.
Buffy: And how did you get him, Faith? Magic? Cast some sort of spell? Cause in the real world, Angel would never touch you and we both know it.
I backhand her.
Buffy: You had to tie me up to beat me. There's a word for people like you, Faith. Loser.
Back to being two of those three things. Alone and a loser.
Me: Uh huh. You're just trying to make me mad so I'll kill you. I'm too smart for that. Stick around.
Buffy: For what? Your boss's lame Ascenscion. Like I couldn't stop it. Me: You can't.
Buffy: I will.
Me: Keep dreaming. No one can stop the Ascenscion. Mayor's got it wired, B. He built this town for demons to feed on and come graduation day, he's getting paid. And I'll be sitting at his right hand. Assuming he has hands after the transformation. I'm not too clear on that part. And all your little lame ass friends are going to be kibbles'n'bits. Think about that when your boyfriend's cutting into you.
Buffy: I never knew you had so much rage in you.
Me: What can I say? I'm the world's best actor.
Angel: Second best.
I turn to Angel. What the hell's he talking about?
Buffy: Graduation day. You think we missed anything?
Angel: I think we know everything she knows.
What?
Buffy: May I say something? (pulls her hands free) Psych!
Me: You played me. You played me!
The Scooby gang bursts in the front door. I try to throw Angel in front of them, but he's heavy. Damn brute is a little off balance, but he doesn't slow them down. Buffy attacks me, holding me with my back to the gang. I'm struggling to get free when I feel a prick in my arm. Looking down, I see a dart sticking out. I turn around and Giles has a tranquilizer gun aimed at me. He fires off another and as soon as it hits me I slump to the ground, everything fading to black.
~Part: 3~
"Unnnh." My head is pounding, feeling like I'm waking up to a bad hangover. I try to move a hand to rub it, but my hands are chained behind my back. Opening my eyes, I look around. I'm in Angel's mansion, and, yay, so is he.
He's watching me, his eyes never leaving my face. Creep. I glare back, my mouth set in a don't-mess-with-me line, waiting for him to speak. He doesn't, and after a few minutes I'm bored.
Tilting my head to the side, I ask, "Is there something on my neck?" I add fake innocence to my voice and bat my lashes as I ask.
Angel's eyes drift downwards, then snap back up when he realizes he's staring at my neck. I grin.
"Head hurt?" He asks, voice calm, steady, not sarcastic.
I don't answer. They musta been rough when they were pinnin' me up against the wall; why else would he know my head was hurting? Still, I can't feel any bumps or blood on my head.
He steps toward me, lifting his arm. I didn't notice the cup in his hand earlier, and he raises it to my face. "Drink this."
Staring at him, I let him pour the liquid into my mouth. He lowers the cup, and I spit it out, on his face.
He stands there, the thick, brown liquid dripping off his face, soaking his expensive clothes and pooling at his feet, for a minute, then sighs. Wiping his face on his sleeve, the driest spot left on his silk, black shirt, he reaches for the tray of shiny instruments to my left. He grabs a needle and sticks it into the cup, pulling what remains of the liquid into the vial before placing the cup on the tray.
"This could have been easy, Faith. Why are you making it difficult?" He sticks the needle into my arm and presses, the vial emptying quickly. I struggle, twisting and kicking, but he ignores me.
When the needle's empty, he withdraws it and places it beside the cup, pressing gently on the skin it had broken until the blood stops flowing. He looks at his thumb and licks his lip, hesitating a moment before wiping the blood on his pants.
"Feel better?" he asks, his voice low. For a second I almost think he cares. Surprisingly, the pounding in my head has stopped. When I get outta here, I'm findin' a way to steal some of that. It'll make drinking a lot easier.
Angel's still looking at me, so I nod. If I answer his questions, maybe he'll leave me alone and I can work on gettin' out.
"Good. Giles forgot the darts would do that; when he remembered, he made the antidote."
"Antidote? Those were poisonous?"
Angel looks uncomfortable for a minute. Lowering his gaze, he mumbles, "They weren't lethal. We wouldn't have used those if Giles remembered what they did."
I'm touched. They would have made sure to use non-poisonous tranquilizers. How thoughtful.
"Why am I here?"
Angel looks at me, thoughtful. I can tell he's trying to think of the best way to phrase his answer; the counselor at my middle school used to look just like that before he delivered some phony line.
"We want to help you."
I rolled my eyes. His answer's not surprising. Guess he and B planned out this whole after-school special- I'll pretend to fight their friendship, but in the end, clean, sparkly goodness will win over and we'll go for ice cream. Not gonna happen.
"Why?" he asks.
Wait. Shouldn't that be my question?
"Huh?"
"Why're you helping the mayor, Faith? You're the slayer. It goes against everything you are."
"B's the slayer. I'm just the sidekick."
The sexy, unnoticed sidekick, who one day is fed up and plots to take over the world with the enemy. I watch too much tv. Oh, wait, that *is* my life. Here I thought it was the plot to last week's made-for-tv movie.
"You're both slayers."
"Chosen *one*, Angel. B's been chosen by lots."
Lots more than I have. She's got the mom, the sis, the boyfriend, the support gang. Hell, she's even got the damn father figure handed to her. Me? I gotta kill to get anything.
"Do you know how you got called?"
"Course. The last slayer died. Kendra, right?"
He nodded. "You know how she got called?"
"B bit the dust. Or, the dust bit her, before it was dust."
"Right. Buffy's not the chosen one anymore, Faith."
"She came back."
"Yes. But you have the power."
"So does she."
"She has an echo of it, because she used to have it. But it belongs to you."
"If I'm all powerful, why am I chained to a wall with B's pet vamp pulling a Walton moment on me?"
"You abused it."
"Power corrupts."
"Not everyone."
Right. It didn't corrupt him, and it sure as hell didn't corrupt Buffy. How could I have forgotten. We're all supposed to mirror ourselves after their perfect lives, and if we don't meet the standards they set, we're losers.
"I know what you're thinking."
"Like hell."
"You and Buffy are two different people, Faith."
"You know how many people make sure to point that out to me?"
"That's not what I'm trying to do."
"What it sounds like."
"I don't mean it in a negative way. You're not Buffy and you shouldn't have to be."
"That's my song. Pick a different one."
"You can't compare yourself to her."
"Right, cause she's the perfect one and I'm just the fuck-up."
"Look at me." I look at him. He raises a hand, and I suppress my desire to flinch. Slowly, he traces my cheekbone with his knuckles. "Faith, you can't compare yourself to Buffy because you're different. You have a different life, a different personality, a different beauty."
He's just feeding me what I want to hear. There's no way he means all this. Yeah, I know I'm sexy, but in a slutty way, not a beautiful one. Is this another set-up?
"You have to stop putting yourself down because you're not her. You're Faith, and you're as good a slayer and a person as Buffy. You have to open your eyes and see it."
Maybe if I just tell him, he'll see what I mean. "I'm not, Angel, I'm not. I'm a killer, and a slut, and a loser, and-"
"A confused woman trying to figure out life?"
"No! I'm not a woman; I'm just a little girl, acting like she's something she's not." "You're not a little girl, Faith. No one who's the slayer ever is."
"I don't deserve to be the slayer. You saw how I screwed it up, Angel."
"And you're still tough enough to learn from your mistake, let it make you a better person, instead of wallowing in guilt over it. You're strong, Faith, and not because you're the slayer. Because of who you are."
"I'm not. I'm the one who gives into the dark side."
"And the one who comes back from it, wiser and stronger. Buffy couldn't. She can't deal with the darkness, but you can. That's what gives you your strength."
"The darkness is my spinach?"
He smiles, briefly. I'm surprised he caught the reference- I didn't know he liked cartoons. "Yeah."
"So, what's a girl gotta do to get free around here?" Maybe he's relaxed enough to let me outta these chains- my nose is itching, and I don't want to ask for help.
"Why should I let you go?"
I feel myself go angry. Here he gave me this long talk about growing stronger from my screw-ups, but he's still gonna keep me chained to a wall? Why, so I can meditate on them some more? What does he think I do all day I'm not around the Scoobs?
"Because you're the good guy who doesn't keep people chained to the wall?"
"Wrong answer. Why should I let you go?"
Oh, no. Does he want some speech about how wrong it was for me to do what I did? Do I have to beg, or what?
"Because killing is wrong, and I know that, and I'll never do it again. And, um, I have to go to the bathroom?"
"Convince me." He crosses his arms over his chest and settles back, evidently prepared for a very long story. Damn.
"I had a lot to drink before I came over, and all that liquid, just dripping to the ground, off of you, keeps reminding me. Please, Angel?"
He chuckles. "Why is killing wrong?"
"Because its illegal?" I really don't want to get into one of those emotional moments I flip past on tv, so I'm keeping my answers light. If the mood gets too heavy, I won't be able to leave.
"I'm not going to let you go until you open yourself up. Take off your disguise, Faith. Please." His eyes are boring into mine, and I can tell he's for real. For once, I'm not thinking about how corny he sounds, how familiar the lines are. I'm thinking about letting him in.
I've *never* let anyone in. All the guys I screwed, the 'friends' I hung around, I kept myself safe from them by acting like some kinda tough girl. The attitude, the outfit, hell, even the sex drive, it's all a part. If I don't show who I really am, then the insults, the constant put-down, they aren't at me, not really. They're at the slut I'm pretending to be, and they don't hurt as much.
If I open up, all it would take is one blow. One good jab and I'd never want to be close to anyone, never love anyone, never love myself. I'd be ashamed and miserable and broken. I couldn't be the slayer. I wouldn't even be alive.
Being this close to opening up to someone is scaring me. I can't do it, I really can't. If that's what it takes for me to get free, I'm gonna be here 'til I turn to dust. I turn my head so I don't have to see his face, and close my eyes. I don't want to risk seeing the look of disappointment on his face.
Angel sighs. "I'll be here if you decide you want to talk," he says, and I hear his footsteps receding.
I want to yell "Angel!" and talk to him. I want to tell someone how I feel, now that I've killed someone, now that I'm working for the mayor, but I don't. I don't know why Angel's being so nice to me; I woulda taken away his soul and killed his girlfriend. There has to be some alterior motive. He already knows about the mayor and his plans, so what does he want?
I'm lost in my thoughts, alternately wanting to tell and wondering why Angel wants to listen, when I hear footsteps returning. Looking up, I see Angel carrying a book.
"My favorite chair is in here," he explains, and moves towards it.
"Wait." He does. "Can I ask you a question?" He nods. "Why do you care?"
"Everyone deserves a second chance."
"I think I'm on my seventeenth."
"So you deserve an eighteenth."
"No I don't. I've killed, and I'm planning the apocalypse, and I tried to take your soul, and I'm gonna do even worse stuff when I get outta here. I don't deserve to be forgiven, Angel."
"You're forgiven because you don't deserve it. Everyone is going to mess up. None of us have any right to judge you."
"Do other people's screw-ups kill people?"
"Mine do."
"That's not you. That's Angelus. You can't control him."
"Could you control it when you staked that man?"
"I could have stopped it. I could have aimed differently. I could have paid attention, sensed he wasn't a vampire. I could have listened to Buffy."
"If you had been able to do any of those things, don't you think you would have? Did you willingly kill that man? Or was it an accident?"
"It doesn't matter. He's still dead."
"What about all the others you've saved, through slaying?"
"There are more I haven't saved, when I've been partying or screwing or something."
"No one's perfect."
"I know that. But I should be more perfect, less mistake."
"You are who you are. You can't change it."
"This isn't who I am."
For a moment, everything's still. I just casually told Angel the biggest secret of my life. I'm tense. I know that he's gonna stay something soon, and it's gonna ruin me.
"What do you mean?"
"Nothing. I said that wrong."
"No, you didn't. You meant something."
"No I didn't."
"Don't lie to me."
"Why not?"
"I thought you trusted me."
"Yeah, because you're so honest and forthcoming."
"I've answered all your questions."
"Not truthfully."
"I haven't lied to you, Faith."
"You won't tell me what you're really trying to get, keeping me chained here."
"I don't want you to leave and do something stupid."
"Right. You're not letting me go because you care about me so much."
"Is it that hard to believe, that someone actually could?"
"No. It's not."
"So you believe me?"
"No. Of course not. I know you're lying."
"I'm not lying."
"Prove it."
"Prove that I am."
Damn. I forgot that Angel's not as dumb as he acts. But I'm not going to admit I can't prove it. I don't say anything.
"Just take my word. Please."
I hate it when he says please. He's so pitiful. "Whatever."
"Who are you, really?"
"I'm Faith. The Vampire Slayer."
"That's not what I mean. You said this isn't who you are. What did you mean?"
I'm not answering.
"I'll let you go if you tell me."
"And if I don't?"
"I guess I'll have to start shopping. You'll get hungry eventually."
I can tell he's serious. He's not gonna let me out until I tell him what I meant. I don't want to stay here, but I don't want to tell him.
"Angel... I've never told anyone this."
"I'm here for you."
"It's hard."
"Would it mean as much if it were easy?"
I shake my head. "I'm scared."
"Of what?"
"What you'll say."
"Faith, I would never hurt you."
"Not on purpose."
"You can't live your life afraid of what will happen if you do."
"Isn't that a bit hypocitical, coming from you?"
"Yeah, I guess it is, isn't it?"
We both smile slightly, and that's what pushes me to tell him. His smile's sincere, and he's willing to admit when he's made a mistake.
"My whole life, I've been the little ghetto girl, the one with the bad home and the bad parent. That was who I was. People used to make fun of me, just because of that, and it hurt. So, I decided I wouldn't be myself. I'd dress up as something else, and that way, people could say whatever they wanted. It wouldn't matter, because they'd be criticizing an act, not a real person."
"But it still hurts."
"Yeah. It does."
"If you're not willing to open yourself up and let anyone close to you, how do you expect anyone to be able to love you for who you are?"
"I don't. Nobody would, and I don't want to deal with the pain."
"Some people wouldn't. But some people would."
"Who?"
"I would."
"No you wouldn't."
"No one can keep up an act all the time."
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"Sometimes, the costumes come off, whether we want them to or not."
"Still not following."
I was, but I wasn't sure if he meant that I had slipped or that I would.
"Whether you've wanted me to or not, I've seen what you're like when you're not trying to be a macho girl. And I like what I've seen."
"You're making that up."
"I'm not. I've seen the way you treat Giles, with respect, and I know you're good to Joyce. You still go out and slay, even though you're supposedly evil, and Buffy told me about the little girl you saved."
"That's not what she thought at the time."
"Buffy, at times, can be an idiot."
We're both smiling again.
"You're a beautiful woman, Faith, you just have to accept it."
He doesn't say it, but I know he means on the inside, too. I'm glad he didn't; his line already sounded corny enough. It was a forgivable sin, though.
"Thanks, Angel, you're sweet."
"I'm not being sweet. I mean it."
"I've screwed up too many times to still be beautiful, if I ever was."
"That's funny, because the woman I've seen is still beautiful."
"I can't see myself that way."
"You could learn."
"I could. Do you know any good teachers?"
"I know a guy who's going through the same thing, trying to accept himself. He might be able to help."
"Really? Does he have a name?"
"Angel."
"Not to ruin the moment, but do you think you can let me go now?"
He grins, and unchains me. I rub my wrists. It's silent for a minute, and then he asks, "Do you want some ice cream?"
The End