POV Faith
She’s doing those fancy moves with her stake again. Executing perfect little flips and catches, her nimble fingers making the wood twirl effortlessly in her palm. It’s cool to watch. I mean, I can do that shit too, of course I can… but when she’s doing it, it just looks so damn graceful. With me it’s more like an intimidation thing; I show off some skills and the beasties decide if they fancy their chances.
Buffy looks nothing like intimidation.
I switch my gaze from her fingers to her face, catch the other world stare that I know will sit there. Letting a sexy little smile find my own face and then looking to engage her. That’s the other thing with her twirly, whirly exhibition of ambidextrous expertise ya see… it means she’s thinking. Not necessarily bad thoughts, but usually the deep kind. The frownful kind. And the best way to re-route the direction of her brain is to flash her the sexy. She can’t resist me when I’m doing sexy. Not many can.
“You know you’re kinda cute when you frown?”
I watch as the frown dips deeper for a second and then softens out around the edges, her eyes catching mine before they travel the way that I wanted them too. My chosen route. Just the quickest pass. Taking it all in and then returning my gaze.
“I am?”
“Damn right you are.” A small smile tugs at her lips and I aim to take it higher. Leaning back a little in my stance and giving her the full once over. A long, slow and very full once over. “You’re even kinda cute without the frown. Definitely a nice package.”
My eyes remain serious even as hers widen in question. “A ‘nice’ package?”
“Definitely.”
“Gee Faith, you sure know how to compliment a girl.”
I let her sarcasm wash over me, not looking to return it, just shooting her a wink. An easy shrug of the shoulders. “Yeah, it’s a thing. I’m good at it.”
“You’re an ass.”
“I have a good ass.”
“Hmmm.” Her hand slides her stake back into the rim of her pants, comes to settle on her chin as if she is contemplating, considering… “I’d say ‘nice’ ass.”
And I can contemplate too. Can stand and mock her pose, can slide my tongue into cheek and consider my words. “Yeah? You love it.”
Daring her to disagree. To lower my ass to a realm other than heavenly. Knowing that she can’t. That even her babble riddled brain can’t form a sentence that could deny any of her love for me.
“There is love.” She walks a little closer, just the one step needed to deliver her into my space. Her hand sliding down to reacquaint itself with the contours and angles, with the swell that sits ripe and tight in my jeans. A firm grasp of solid muscle, a cooing noise of approval. “In fact, I think that you have the perfect ass…”
My ears pricking at the teasing tone that laces her words. My eyes barely seeing the movement before it has passed. Her body twirling as fast as her stake, my hands not quick enough to catch her foot before it lands on the seat of my pants.
And oh yes. Her laughter.
“What the hell was that for?”
I wait until she has put a lid on the giggling, the snorts that still sneak out from behind the hands that cover her mouth. “I’m sorry Faith, really, it’s just your ass…”
She points to the injured party.
“It IS perfect.” My arms crossing in front of my chest as I wait for the punch line. “The perfect ass for kicking!”
And come on? That was lame. Or my ass is lame. She has one hell of a kick.
“Am I meant to be impressed by that?”
“A little bit. I’d say the speed was impressive… definite improvement in my surprise tactics…”
Her eyes animate as she breaks into a rapid fire monologue. “…and I KNEW that you’d be regretting the speed training; ‘Oh B, I’m soooo much quicker than you’, ‘You call THAT fast? I could die a slow death quicker than you can throw a punch’, well HA! Time to taste the humble pie, girlfriend!”
The hand on hips pose is kinda cute too. I don’t say that though, I’m much too busy agreeing with her words. Silently. When she had first asked me to share the style that Angel had taught me, I readily agreed. Having extra speed is always a good thing. But I had also mocked her all through the training. I couldn’t help myself. Goading her into pushing that much harder, teaching her muscles to give all of the effort that is locked up inside. And now my ass is paying the price. Payback’s a bitch. But then, so am I.
I affix the grin to my face that the situation deserves. “Does humble come in cherry flavour? Cos ya know I love the cherry pie, B.”
Re-routing again. Directing her eyes with the tip of my tongue. A slow moistening of lips…
“God I’m hungry.”
“I bet you are.” Dropping my voice down to husky. Inviting her in.
“No, seriously. I’m starving Faith. You wanna go get something to eat?”
And just who the hell is directing this conversation!?
I think I’m sighing. A sigh to mark the passing of my feminine wiles. I’m also stretching though. Bringing my arms up over my head, just working the kinks out. Not ready to give it up.
“What ya hungry for B?”
“Pizza. A couple of side-orders.”
And I give up. Another sigh. “I think I might skip out. I don’t wanna be too late, the old guy will only start worrying.”
“You have to stop calling Giles old. He’s starting to get a complex.”
“Okay. The ‘ancient’ guy will only start worrying. Better?”
“Possibly not.”
She turns and starts to head out of the cemetery, not a single kill under our belts. The spell the witches have done certainly seeming to ensure that the wedding really will pass without a hitch. Or only with the right kind of hitching.
“So what do ya say B? You okay with getting something alone?”
“Yay, a booth for one.”
Her direction stays in front of me, not turning to deliver her words. My eyes catching her stake as it flits up into the air again. And I think I kind of guessed the reason for her twirling and whirling display. Now I know that I did.
“Buffy?”
“Yeah?”
I follow HER perfect ass through the gates of the cemetery, back out onto the street, just a few steps away from civilisation. Lengthening my stride to catch up to her, my hand reaching out to rest on her shoulder. Slowing her progress.
“You’re still pissed about tonight?”
“I’m not pissed. There is no pissing. I just…” She screws her face up into a funny little look of distaste. “…I don’t like it!”
“Come on, we talked about this already. It makes sense.”
“That depends on your definition of sense Faith.”
She could have me there. It’s not like her definition of sense is anything close to normal. I lay out the reasons again, just in case she forgot. “Look, you’re with the girls tomorrow… you got that bridesmaid gig, I got the guy’s side. If I stay with you then we’re both gonna be late in the morning…”
“I can set the alarm.”
“That never works B.”
Her eyes roll off and I know that she knows it. Me and her in a bed together means lateness. Also hotness and a whole lot of horny. But definitely lateness.
Her feet start taking small steps in the direction of food. Waiting for me to walk with her, still listening to the reasons that I’m intent on laying out.
“The guys are getting in from LA before sunrise and you know I wanna be there to meet them… Angel’s gonna love what we did with the office space. I need to see that first hand.”
“I don’t really like all this sense making.”
“Plus, Cordy’s all take charge girl with my outfit…”
“Okay, okay. I get it. You’re abandoning me and I can’t talk you out of it. We could still get pizza though…”
I know the time without needing a watch. I know that I haven’t got a lot of hours to seek sleep before I need to be up again to greet the guests. And where is the point in knocking myself out to look drop dead gorgeous, if I get no sleep and just end up looking drop dead?
No point. It seals the deal.
“I can’t.” It makes her shoulders drop. “I’ll see you tomorrow though. There’s that wedding thing, remember? Bright and early… just a few hours from now?”
“Do you think Anya made it an early wedding on purpose, like a conspiracy to stop us from sleeping together?”
Err. No.
“Actually, I think it’s cos she said her breasts look perkier in the morning.”
She really did.
I watch B’s lips form the perfect petulant pout. Opening to speak and then shutting as the silence is broken by the ringing of her cell phone.
“Hello?”
Turning her back to me to carry on the conversation.
“Oh hey Wills, what’s up?”
Perking up her voice.
“How long? I don’t know… not long, long. Is everyone sleeping yet?”
I settle back against a handily placed sign post. Trying to figure out Willow’s words from Buffy’s.
“You did? Is that safe?” Not having a chance.
I let my ears tune out for the moment. Still half listening but not paying attention. My mind wandering without any real purpose. Instantly alert again as Buffy’s voice drops somewhere close to conspiring.
“No… she didn’t.”
Who didn’t?
“I tried that, not even food knocked her from her path.”
I smile wide as she turns back to facing me. Her eyes running slowly down my body as she carries on speaking into the phone.
“Hmmm… that could maybe work. I don’t think knocking her out and throwing her across my shoulder is really responsible behaviour though. What if I got caught?”
And what darn planet do these two come from?
“Yeah… we have friends in the police force now, but I say it’s better to keep them that way. Getting arrested is no fun.”
She can see my grin and she matches it. Making final comments into the handset and clicking it closed. Coming to stand beside me.
“That was Wills, she thinks I need to knock you out to get you to stay with me. Would it work?”
And she spoke to Red about it? It upsets her that much?
“You really don’t want me to go?”
“Are you crazy?”
Sometimes.
“Not lately. I don’t think so.”
“Well you are if you don’t get just how much I don’t want you to go.” Her fingers are soft as they slide between mine, her body facing me, close enough to feel. “It feels all lonely. Like you’re leaving me.”
“You know that’s never gonna happen. Even I’m not that crazy.”
“But…”
I cut her off before she gets there. My resolve weakening all too fast. My determination doubling. “Look, we have plans. Stuff that needs to get done, people that we can’t let down. It’s not about leaving you, you know I wouldn’t choose not to be with you if there was another option…”
“And it’s only one night.”
She finishes the sentence for me. Already knowing exactly what I was going to say.
“It’s only one night. And just think how nice tomorrow night is gonna be.”
I try and resurrect the feminine wiles to get her smiling again. My shoulders pulling back, my pose being struck…
“Tomorrow…” She whispers it as her eyes follow the trails that my fingers are taking. Nothing too obvious. Just sliding up under my top to pretend at finding an itch. Hinting at something else.
“You alright there B?”
“Uh-huh.” She shakes her head to clear it. More cuteness. “Just having an ‘Annie’ moment.”
“You gonna break into song?”
“Been there, done that. Not so pretty.” I feel my insides shiver as her breath blows out across my neck, leaning up to whisper into my ear. “I’m just loving the thought of tomorrow.”
Totally whipping me in the wiles stakes. Her own fingers creeping up to fuss at the spot I had been pretending to fuss at. Under my top, dragging slowly across my skin.
“Damn it B. You’re good.”
She smirks as she pulls back. “I learnt from you Faith, what do you expect?”
“After that, I’m expecting a whole lot.”
“Then it’s a good job I’m in a position to give it.”
Did I say my resolve is weakening? I have no resolve. I have melting. I have goose-bumps that raise in anticipation of her touch. My hips moving forwards as she reaches a hand round to nestle against my ass.
“So what do ya say Faith, you wanna get a pizza?”
“I think I want the side orders.”
She works her advantage to the full. Her lips smiling as they reach up to tease mine. Small whispered kisses, promises of everything else that’s on offer…
“We could get take out, eat it in bed…”
Her tongue hot as it slides against my ear. “…I know you like it when I feed you…”
Holy fuck. Who is this girl?
But I know who she is.
My body melding to hers as she gives up the teasing. Finally filling her kisses with the same heat as her words. Liquid heat. Melt down complete.
Hell yeah. This is the girl who has learnt all of my flicks and switches. Who knows how to turn me on even better than I do. How to drop her voice just right to get me leaning in, how to touch my body just right to have me falling over.
I steady myself now as she slowly pulls back again, my arms going around her waist to keep her close, to keep me upright.
“I think I’m upgrading you from ‘nice package’ B.” My voice is doing it’s hoarse thing as her eyes are doing the deep and intense.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. That was ‘really’ nice.”
My throat feels raw as her eyes narrow to take the stare even deeper into intensity. “Really nice?”
“Fucking amazing.”
And I’m not playing anymore. I only play when I can win, and I know that I have lost this one. I’m like putty in her hands, each attempt at banter, beaten down by her attempts at seduction. She IS fucking amazing and it’s only fair to tell her so.
“So you’re gonna come home with me?”
“Buffy…” I steel myself for my final stand. The only stand I have left. Taking the smallest step back to make the room to breathe. “…I thought we agreed?”
“There was agreeing? I don’t remember agreeing.”
“With the ‘Annie’ thing, and the nice tomorrow thing?”
“That wasn’t agreeing, that was considering. I’ve considered now, and the considerably best thing that you could be considered to do is to come home. It’s agreed.”
Is my head shaking or nodding? I can’t tell through the spinning.
“I never agreed to that B… I was still being responsible. Admittedly I was swayed for a moment, the side orders were tempting…”
I yelp as she slaps me on the ass.
“What? They WERE tempting!”
“So that’s it. You’re staying out?”
“That’s it.”
Her body moves further away from me, giving us both a little distance. Maybe finally accepting that I do wanna stick to the plan. I really do wanna look drop dead gorgeous tomorrow. Sure, she doesn’t know that that’s the plan, but it’s the main one I’m concentrating on.
I’ve never played dress ups with B before.
Well… you know. In fancy clothes and stuff.
The closest I ever got was homecoming that one time, and then my intentions were a whole lot different. That time I wanted her to look at me and want me. To see what was kept hidden beneath and taste all of my dark delights. This time… I don’t know. It sounds fucking stupid, but I kind of wanna look all… damn. Like pretty and shit.
Not hot. I know I own hot. Not fuckable. I own that too. But maybe beautiful. Cordy assures me that we can do it, that she has the perfect dress, the perfect shoes, the perfect hair style… so yeah. That’s the plan.
And that’s why I’m sticking to it.
It still makes me frown when she gives me that sad little smile though, still makes me feel just as lonely as her at the thought of spending the night alone.
“Call me when you get in?”
“Sure thing B.”
“And then I’ll see you at the wedding?”
“I’ll be front row centre. There’s no way I’m gonna miss seeing you in that sexy little green number…”
“Bitch.”
They all tried to get Anya to reconsider the colour scheme. They all failed.
“Yep. Now give me a kiss… something to get me through the night.”
She blows it to me across the breeze, laughing at my un-amused face, my pouting lips.
“That‘s it, that’s all I’m getting?”
“You wanna spend the night away Faith, then you suffer the consequences.”
And maybe she is the biggest bitch of all.
I concede the point gracefully though. Catching her kiss and blowing one back. In truth knowing how dangerous it would be to meet her lips for real again. It’s safer this way. For the plan.
“Night baby.”
“Night B.”
Just watching her walk away from me. Backwards. Her working senses allowing her to negotiate obstacles without looking. Keeping those eyes on me.
“Sleep tight.”
“You too.”
Catching another kiss. Feeling the pull as she pauses at the corner. Wanting nothing more than to go to her.
“Sweet dreams.”
The sweetest. Her words echoing in the empty street even as she turns from view. My heartbeat matching her step as I feel her getting further away. The air around me shifting as I’m left all alone.
It’s a good plan, but a bad plan.
I can’t wait to surprise her by scrubbing up all nice. But this leaving her crap is one hell of a price to pay. Since I moved in officially, I haven’t spent a night away. I don’t want to. I don’t need to. Everything I need is in being with her. Every day beginning and ending in just the right way.
And damn. I really think I am still crazy.
It’s a solemn little walk that my feet now begin. Heading off in the direction of the old apartment, Giles’ new apartment. Consoling myself with the knowledge that thankfully, tomorrow really IS only a day away.
I sweep my eyes around the room and try to imagine what it would be like to view this all for the first time. Wondering whether it’s gonna be up to scratch. If Angel will find the same pride in the surroundings that I have found here. I know that I hope he does. It’s just all so different than when we first rented it, a dilapidated building which smelt strangely like boiled cabbage and lemons, now turned into the Sunnydale headquarters for Angel Investigations.
And check me out, all up in the world.
It means so much for me to have Angel’s approval. He gave me this chance, this opportunity to really make a life for myself, and all I want is to have him tell me, good job. That would pretty much make everything perfect.
I jangle the keys obsessively in my hands while I wait. Straightening up the desktop, sprucing up the plant, making sure that all of Giles’ books sit at perfect angles with the rest of the furnishings. And I’m no longer just Marsha Brady. Nope. No way. I’m Marsha Brady on fucking crack. It’s nice.
The car pulling up outside is enough to have my palms sweaty and my mouth dry. This is it. The boss is back in town. A couple of seconds passing as I hear them all getting out, then a knock on the door, and then my feet moving.
Just like it, Angel. Just like it.
“Hey.”
“Hey..? That’s it?” I should have known that Queen Cordy would be at the front. Looking like a million dollars, sounding like a million decibels. “Come here you moron and give me a hug!”
Enveloped before I can move, arms holding tight and then pushing me back, observing me at arms length with a gaze all insightful.
“You look really well. All happy. It suits you.”
And how could I not look happy? I have a hot chick giving me the once over.
“You’re looking good too Cor, it’s great to see ya.”
“Of course it is.”
She moves past me through the door and I look straight ahead. My saviour now stood before me. Looking up at the sign, back down to me, his eyes full of warmth.
“Faith.”
“Hey big guy, you missed me?”
“You want the truth?”
He cocks his head with a small smile and I know my grin steadily grows. I love this guy. I can’t help it.
“If the truth involves a hug and a yes, then yeah, hit me with the truth.”
His powerful arms only feel gentle as they wrap me up and hold me safe. His chin resting on my head, his words drifting down to my ears…
“There’s a lot less noise. Less whisky bottles taking up counter space. A whole lot less prank phone calls. And the cable bill has halved…”
“No way! That’s Gunn with the cable. You know I don’t need no two dollar porn to get me going.”
He laughs as he steps back, his eyes starting to drift across the walls of our reception room. The friendly little desk which holds Tara’s pictures, the book shelves which could only ever be Giles’. “So this is it then?”
“This is it.” I hope my arm doesn’t shake as I hold it out to encompass the space. “We’ve got the reception bit here, and then back there through that door is the office…”
I’m interrupted by a noise behind, a small knock on the door.
“Is it okay to come in?”
And there she is. My sister slayer. One of the triplets.
“Ken! Come here you dork!”
I grab her in a tight hug before she’s knows what has hit her, so not my style to be throwing out the love, but my nervousness dictating that I act all crazy. Any minute I’ll be babbling. I know it.
“I uh…” She pulls herself gingerly back, eyes timidly searching behind me. “…is Buffy here?”
Aw. She’s still scared of B?
“No way girlfriend. You’re free to feel me up to your heart’s content.”
And that switches her eyes from timid to playful. Turning her nose up. Offering me a smart ass smile. “She’s not here? But it’s Buffy I’ve been wanting to feel up.”
Earning her a friendly slap. A little slayer special.
“Nice to see you haven’t changed Kennedy.”
“Nice to see you still slap like a girl.”
I let her walk past me and check the door to see if there’s anymore arrivals. Anymore of the LA gang to amuse and abuse me. “Hey, is no one else coming?”
“Nope. There’s a little demon problem that needed sorting. You’re lucky that Angel and Kennedy came, there was kicking and screaming…”
“What kind of demon problem?”
Angel breaks from his office observations to stand next to Cordy, settling his ass back against the desk, sighing out a breath he doesn’t have. “It’s a clan war. As if we don’t already have enough to worry about, now we have gang-banging demons.”
“You need help?”
And no, I haven’t gone all superhero, it’s just been ages since our last big knees up. Nothing crazy apocalyptic, just run of the mill vamps and demons. Easy for the business, not so challenging for a slayer.
“You have time to help us? Do I need to check the pay sheets?”
“Chill Angel. The business is ticking along nicely… I’m just saying…” I can’t help but crack my knuckles at the thought of some serious action. “…if you need some kick ass slayer…”
“Hey! They have me!”
I turn and make a whole show of checking out the girl that makes jokes about feeling up my girlfriend. Letting my eyes roam all over her small frame. “Like I said, if you need a kick ass slayer…”
It’s enough to bring laughter. Easy conversation. Them laying out the deal with the demon turf war, and me laying out the plans for the wedding. Catching them up on everything they had missed, the ins and outs of your average sleepy town on an active hell mouth.
It was nice. It is nice. Having them here again. Kinda sucks that the demon problem means they can only stay for the day, but even so, they are here, and I’m happy. Just leaning back in the chair behind the desk in the office, my feet finding their usual place, my arms back behind my head.
Life is good.
I swing the chair round a little as Angel walks into the room, resting his frame against another bookcase, his eyes full of eager smiles.
“You always sit like that?”
“That all depends on the customer. If it’s a hottie, then yeah… I give them something to look at.”
“No wonder business is booming.”
“Exactly!” He comes closer and I drop my feet, giving him somewhere to sit on the desktop. Waiting while he fingers the photo which sits prominently next to the computer. The happy family snap. Buffy, me and Dawn in the midst of a food fight. I remember being pissed at Red when she took it, objecting to any pictures anywhere with me covered in mozzarella and anchovies, but afterwards, once the picture had come back… then I was all full of the smiles. Bagging the photo to keep on the desk. A reminder of why I’m here.
“This is nice.”
“Yeah, it is. And I know it looks like I’m losing…” I look again at the picture. Me underneath both of them and covered in the cheese. “…but I swear man, once that was taken… I kicked ass.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.”
His raised eyebrow tells me he doesn’t quite believe me, but what does it matter? I know who won. I know who ended up on dish duty for the next three nights. And it sure as hell wasn’t me.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Buffy smiling like that. She looks so…”
“Happy?”
“Yes. Happy.” He resets the photo frame back in it’s place. Me not being able to resist reaching out to straighten it up. Placing it so that her eyes are on me. The way I like it. “So I guess I don’t need to ask how you’re doing Faith?”
And now my eyes meeting his. Barrier free. Nothing to hide.
“Not really. You could still ask though.”
“Right. How are you doing?”
I know that my smile says it all, but I find the words anyway. “Great. Really great. Honestly Angel, I ain’t never been this happy. Kinda freaks me, I’m still getting used to it. But yeah…it’s the best.”
“I’m glad.” I know all of his looks and I know that he has now switched to serious. His voice dropping softly to match the tone. “You deserve it Faith.”
“Don’t we all?”
Because I can do serious too, and I know that I’m not the only one who has fought in the trenches, the only one who deserves the special kind of happiness that comes with being in love. With being loved. I flit my eyes quick to the doorway, check that the girls are still nosing around in the backroom. The sleeping quarters.
“So how are things with you Angel. Still lacking the happy?”
“I don’t lack happy.”
“Sure ya don’t. It’s why with the brooding.”
I point out the brooding with a wave of my hands. Taking in his still sombrely black attire, the same hunch to the shoulder. “I’ve seen dead people that look happier…”
“Technically Faith, I am dead.”
So he is.
“Right. Vampire. But you get where I’m coming from..?”
“Not often.”
And isn’t this just a huge old reversal of roles? Him the one doing avoidance and me the one seeking answers. “Stop dodging. Serious Angel, are you doing okay?”
“You want serious?” He continues the avoidance by rising from his seat. Sneaking close to the blinds where sunrise is threatening to burst through. “What happened to finding the fun?”
“If you’d found the fun then I’d be all for it. I’m worried about the lack of fun… no man’s an island, right?”
He chances just a tiny glimpse out on the early morning, a sad smile tracing his lips when he turns to me. “For whom the bell tolls?”
“It tolls for thee.” I slip myself up from the chair, my boots heavy on the carpet as I come to stand by his side. Facing a window that he dare not look out of. “You know I read everything you sent me?”
“I hoped that you would.”
It’s not like I had anything else to do. Stuck in juvenile detention with no need to make friends. Damn right I read everything he sent. And everything that he sent included a whole lot of everything. I liked the John Donne. All that stuff about being connected, not being alone… I think it comforted me even when I didn’t want comfort. Made me see a bigger picture.
“So what about it, you still resisting the feeling?”
He knows what I’m talking about. The feeling I allude to.
“It’s not that easy Faith.”
“It’s a yes or no question, how much easier can it get?”
“The situation… the… it’s not easy. It’s just not easy.”
I respect the hopelessness that he brings to his words and take a step back. An easy decision to let him off the hook. To not bring too much pain to a day that should be happy. A day when we should all be smiling. Not saying anything as he walks back into the shadows, as he lowers his bulk into my chair. His feet finding the exact same spot as mine had.
“So aside from all the eternal angst, how’s the gang doing, what’s new in the big bad smoke?”
“Not so much. Kennedy’s fitting in well. She was a hard one at first, she really doesn’t like authority too much, but now she’s doing fine. I cracked the whip.”
Uh-huh.
“What did ya do, buy her an ice cream and give her a hug?”
“No… there wasn’t any hugging. Maybe the one ice cream.”
If he could he would blush. Mr softy pants.
“It’s cool she’s settled. I was worried, ya know… in case she went all darkness, death and destruction…”
“No. Nowhere near. She’s forged a real bond with Fred, I think they keep each other grounded.”
“Everybody needs somebody”
He shoots me a bemused look. Another raised eyebrow. “Now you’re quoting the Blues Brothers at me?”
“Just nudging you in the right direction.”
And exchange bemused for depressed. Letting me know just how deep it goes with his feelings. Urging me to back off again.
“Dude, forget it okay. I’m not gonna say nothing else…”
I don’t get to say anything else as the other two to come back to the office. Breezing through the door as if they have not a care in the world. It’s nice to see Kennedy that way, but for Cordelia, I’m not buying it. Catching her eyes as they slip quietly to Angel, noting her sadness and concern.
“What’s going on, why’s the atmosphere all dark and gloomy?”
“Not gloomy Cor, I was just asking the boss for a raise. He didn’t take it so well.”
“Angel?”
“I offered her store cards, they always worked with you.”
And the sitch is saved by a smile. I can’t pretend to know what they go through, but I do remember all too well the feeling of love being bound and broken. That they can still find smiles for each other, even through the crap, it gives me hope. I don’t know if there is a solution, but fuck knows they deserve it. Both of them.
I slide my way through a little more banter before it gets to the time when we need to be shifting. Anya really did want an early wedding. Maybe for the perky breasts thing, possibly to cut down on Xander’s chances of skipping out, but either way it’s an early one. All of us needing to be suited, booted and seated by eight o clock.
The arrangements are easy enough. Us girls going to the apartment to get all pretty and Giles coming here to pick up Angel.
And I think I’m getting kinda excited. Kinda nervous. Waiting to see the dress that is meant to be able to knock Buffy’s socks off. Just hoping that I can manage beautiful.
“You ready to roll?”
Cordy’s voice pulls me towards the door. Offering Angel a wave as we leave, turning as his words call me back again.
“Faith?”
“Yeah?”
“This place, all that you’ve done?”
“Uh-huh?”
“Great job.”
And how can I not smile. It’s all that I wanted.
“Jesus, Cor, you’re hurting me!”
“Just sit still and stop moaning, you wanna be beautiful then you have to pay the price.”
I pull my head in the general direction of away from her, and her fingers, and the endless fucking pins that she’s sticking up in my hair. I mean Christ, yeah, I wanted to look pretty… but pins? In my hair?!
“I said, sit still!”
A tug which borders on violent has me back in her range. My bottom lip popping out in an attempt at pouting, my fingers digging hard into my knees to stop me from crying out.
“But it hurts.”
“No Faith, hurt would be what’s gonna happen if you don’t quit fidgeting. Hurt would be me impaling your ass on this hairbrush.”
She gives another tug and I give another yelp. Not used to my hair feeling as if each and every individual strand is being teased to within an inch of its life. Not used to being held so helpless at someone else’s mercy. I’m not a fan of it. No fucking way. In fact, if I hadn’t just spent the whole night away from B just so I could hit her with the surprise of me being all stunning, then it would be me doing the impaling on the hairbrushes right now.
“Anyway, I thought you slayers had that high pain thresh hold thing working for ya?”
“And I thought you had that gentle touch thing working for you. I guess we’re both wrong.”
“I’ll try and be gentler.”
She gives a pained sigh and I match it with one of my own. Her touch does soften. Her fingers do move a little slower about her task, but the pain is no less. Heck, I wouldn’t be lying if I said it felt worse. Longer to anticipate each twist and turn, longer to count the seconds until we’re done.
“Okay. I think we’re done!”
YES! And thank fuck for that!
“You sure..?”
I can feel myself edging away from her again, scared inside that this is a nasty trick, a lulling into a sense of false security. Flinching as she comes closer to fuss at the front, giving a shaky smile as she gives me a lingering appraisal with her eyes.
“I think I am. You look perfect.”
“Perfect?”
“Uh-huh. Perfect.” Her mouth flashes a full on Cordy special, reaching up to light her eyes, making everything about her seem somehow softer. “If Buffy Summers has a tongue left in her mouth when she sees you, then I wanna know what’s wrong with her! You look gorgeous Faith. You ARE gorgeous.”
Damn. I don’t even try and edge away from her now, as she brings a hand up to my face, so gentle, careful not to ruin any of the barely there make-up that she took so much time on before doing my hair. No. I lean into her touch, let her feel the blush that her words have created.
“Thank you.”
“I’m happy to help.” She gives a little tweak to my nose as she pulls her hand away. Standing back again to admire her creation. “Who ever would have thought?”
I know what she means.
A silent wonder passing between us as we both remember the start package. What I was on my arrival. And I don’t think gorgeous would have been top of anyone’s list. Skanky ho, maybe. But not gorgeous.
“Angel probably already gave you the big proud speech in the office, but you know me, I like to have my say…”
“You about to get mushy on me?”
“No. Yes. A little.”
“Well I hope the mascara’s waterproof, there’s no way I’m sitting through more of the makeover.”
She leaves me sitting on the stool and takes a seat on my old bed. Her arms going out to rest on her knees, looking up at me, her eyes earnest and true. “I’ll keep it short Faith, I promise. I just want you to know how proud we ALL are of you. Angel may have saved that murky little soul of yours, but all of us came to care about it. You are doing a great job here, an amazing job, and all of us see it. All of us are happy for you.”
Shit. I wasn’t joking about the mascara.
“Cordy, I…”
“Don’t say anything Faith. You know you’ll only ruin it.”
And I’ll let her have her little jibes, because everything that she just said to me was so damn beautiful. Means so much. “Thank you. Again.”
“Like I said, happy to help.”
I can’t stop my mind from doing a little drift now to my first thoughts of Cordy, and I am absolutely certain that she has changed herself just as much as I have. Just as perfectly.
I think to say it. Wonder at how to make the words. Which ones to choose.
“You know Cordy, you’re doing an amazing job too.”
I hope that covers it.
Catching her unguarded smile and then seeing it replaced by the Cordy grin. Rising up from the bed and then fussing at her own wedding outfit in the mirror. “Just doing what I can. Paying the bills.”
“Right. You’re in it for the cash.”
“Yep. ‘How to make a million, before you die a horrible death’, all the consorts to the higher powers get to read it. Fascinating stuff.”
The reflection that I study is still smiling, but I am never one to dismiss a joke about horrible deaths. I’ve seen too many.
“Gee, I see that you’re all full of the deep down cheery too.” She turns back to face me, eyes inquisitive. “Honestly, it’s a good thing Kennedy’s still so plucky, or I’d be calling it an epidemic.”
“Am I supposed to be able to guess what you’re talking about?”
“You.” I motion my hands across her form. “You’re less zesty. Almost broody… what’s the deal?”
“I’m not broody!”
“Uh-huh. You can try and sell it, but this girl ain’t buying. I know what’s up.”
I totally do. I witnessed the soulful stares at the office, have had the last couple of hours full of disjointed breaks in banter that have never been there before. My friends are hurting. My two dearest friends are hurting. And it hurts me to feel it.
“I know you don’t believe this Faith, but trust me when I tell you that you can’t fix everything. Not everyone gets the happy ending, all of their dreams come true. Just leave this one okay, you can’t make this one better. Just leave it.”
A hurt that grows.
Her eyes are pleading that I just walk away. Insisting with unshed tears, and a woeful sigh, that she truly believes the situation is hopeless. That she is helpless. It’s fucked up ironic when you consider everything that she does. Everyone that SHE helps.
And I can’t walk away. She would never walk away from me. Never.
“You could talk to me.”
“You don’t think I do enough talking?! You don’t think I’m so damn sick of talking!? Talking’s all I can do Faith. All we can ever do.”
Ouch.
We.
I knew that there was a ‘we’ in there somewhere.
“Have you told him how you feel?”
Her eyes break my heart. As if she needs to tell him. It was there without being said. My understanding of that having a small smile lifting her lips. Still breaking my heart.
“Angel knows how I feel. Why make it hurt more by saying it?”
Because saying it is the greatest freedom that you will ever know? The deepest joy?
I don’t offer my sermon on happy endings though. I don’t offer John Donne nor a nifty little burst of the Blues Brothers. No. None of that would mean anything to her. What I do though is rise from the stool and take her in my arms. Trying my hardest to impress with my hug how much I care for her, how much I feel for her.
“I’m so sorry Cordy, I am so damn sorry.”
Letting her cling as hard as she needs to, drawing endless deep breaths to stop from releasing her tears. This shit sucks. It so fucking sucks.
I just wish that I could do something. That all of my power counted for anything when it comes to helping my friends. That I could just do something to make it better. To make it hurt less.
She pulls back without saying a word. Trusting me to do the same.
“Okay?”
And I can’t stop from asking. She’s a fool if she thought that I could.
“As okay as I’m gonna be.”
“If you ever…”
“Please? Can we leave it now. Talking doesn’t help. Don’t think about it. It’s what I do.”
She picks up her lipstick and starts reapplying. Turning back to the mirror, away from me.
“What time is it, shouldn’t we be thinking about leaving soon?”
Conversation over.
Leaving the false perky of her expression to glance to the clock. Immediately becoming nervous again at the closeness of hour. The closeness of fricking minutes.
“Yeah.” My mouth void of saliva yet again. “You want me to give Ken a shout?”
“No, I’ll do it… KENNEDY!?”
Fuck. I forgot how loud she can be. How authoritive she can sound. The tone of her voice having my favourite little protégé come running through the door. Stumbling in her dainty heels, grabbing at the door frame to keep some balance. Her gaze flicking from Cordy and then to me.
“Oh wow.”
Still on me.
“I mean… oh wow, I knew you were… but, wow.”
Did she leave her brain in LA?
“Ken?”
Cordy is laughing behind me, so I turn to her to find sense.
“I knew it! One look at you and Buffy is gonna be tasting the floor. I amaze myself, really, I do…”
I glance back to Ken, her absolute open approval of me.
“You mean, I did that?”
Whoa. I get checked out all the time. But this?
“Oh yes. Have you looked at yourself in the mirror?”
And no. I was kinda scared to. Not sure of what I would see. Shifting now to get a proper look, some close up scrutiny.
And wow.
I mean… wow!
“Fuck. Is that me?”
“The language makes me think, yes.”
“Sorry Cor, but… Jeez. I look good. I look…”
“Amazing? Gorgeous?”
No.
“I look beautiful.”
“I second that.” And it looks like Kennedy got her senses back. After seeing myself in the mirror I’m kinda impressed with her recovery. I can’t stop checking myself out. I really can’t stop.
“Faith..?”
The dress is just mind blowing. Nothing like I would have chosen. For a start it’s not black… And my hair? Fuck. I love every pin. I worship every pin. All holding it up, releasing just the fewest of tendrils that slip to tickle my neck.
“Faith!?”
I rip my gaze away from myself to turn to her, matching the grin that’s splitting her face. The amusement that sits in her eyes.
“You’re supposed to be knocking Buffy’s socks off, not your own!”
Both of them finding that funny. Laughing at my open self appraisal.
“Can it guys, you both know if you looked as good as this, then you’d be all with the checking out.”
And ha! That shuts them up. Because yeah, them girls, they GOT the goodies. But check me out. I’m beautiful.
And forget nervous. I’ve got a wedding to go to. A girl to impress.
I just hope that Anya won’t mind me stealing her thunder.
Yeah. And bring back the nervous!
Faith wasn’t the only one to be appraising their reflection so openly in the mirror that morning. There was someone else who was taking a good look at all they could see. Thinking about what they had been. What they were now. Pleased with the change.
Halfrek was, in fact, more than pleased with the change.
It had been so long since she had visited this plane of existence. Not caring to return, since she had left the last time, since she had crawled away from that basement with barely a shred of dignity hanging around her shoulders. But now she was back.
And such a great day for it. A wedding. Anyanka’s wedding!
The thought brought a smile to her face. Glad that she was able to multi-task in such an efficient way. Not only would she be able to celebrate with one of her oldest friends, she would, much more importantly, be able to settle her scores. Because she still had scores that needed settling in Sunnydale.
Her new employers were so much more powerful than the last. D’hoffryn cast aside with the same ease that he had cast her away to Warren’s clutches. Yes. They were powerful, they had powerful demands. And it was her job to channel that power to make sure that the demands were carried through.
One final roll of the dice. One final wish to grant.
She only hoped that it was the right one. That they would get everything that they deserved.
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