Chapter Twenty-Two.
The ache of anticipation sat heavy in the air when Buffy finally heaved open the doors to The Hyperion. For more than an hour she had stood motionless beneath the swaying branches of the tree that had offered enlightenment, and for more than an hour she had dared herself to start taking the baby steps back towards the hell of her own making. Now, with the forthright glares that were looking to welcome her home and maybe roast her on the spot, she silently wished that foliage was still an option. The watchful eyes feeling far too intrusive… looking a little too closely at the limp in her step, at the graze across her lips.
And she tried to ignore them. Found her own eyes darting out to look for the support of the slayers; her feet already leading her towards taking direction, her mouth trying desperately to find a smile that wouldn’t bring further strain to the stinging of her lips.
“Guys, everything go okay with Angel?”
All about the perky. Catching Kennedy’s return look and knowing, just knowing, that everything was not okay. That she had expected the hell and she was going to catch it.
“Buffy, perhaps you could try explaining to me exactly what’s gone on this evening?”
“Oh, Giles, didn’t see you there. You’re up late…”
“Because so far, the way that I have been told, it seems as though you went against everything that was said to you. Not only did you blatantly discard all of the reasoning, you also sought to include the other slayers in your deceptive little soiree.”
“My little what?”
“Don’t play dumb with me, you know full well what I’m alluding to; judging by the look of you, I take it that it’s safe to assume things went precisely the way we expected?”
Uh - no. Or yes. For the most part maybe. Buffy knew that her bruises advertised the fact that there was confrontation involved in her soiree of deceptiveness, but she also knew that there was no way for Giles to guess at the conclusion to the confrontation. He couldn’t feel the way that her lips still felt, he had no chance of understanding how fast her heart still beat.
And could she tell him? Would she tell him?
Saved from the moment by the interruption of her new best friend, by the person who seemed to have taken watching her back to a whole new level.
“Hold off on the attack, Giles. It wasn’t just Buffy’s call, all of us agreed with her.”
“That may be so Kennedy, but it’s Buffy that I expect to know better. The deception in itself is bad enough, but the way that she sought to dismiss Angel? It’s outright bloody ridiculous.”
“Well maybe if you weren’t both so eager to ignore me, I wouldn’t have had to deceive you. You know how much I needed to see Faith.”
“And what about what Faith needs? It seems to me that in amongst all of your own desires, you’ve readily lost sight of hers. Angel made it quite clear that she isn’t ready to face you yet. I imagined you would’ve at least been able to show some respect for his opinion.”
“And if his opinion is wrong?”
Because Buffy believed inherently that it was. That Angel had no idea of how badly things still burnt between her and Faith - how deeply the rivers still ran. “This is my life Giles, and I’ll be damned before I sit back and let everyone else direct it. You were wrong the last time you chose to ignore me, and you’re wrong this time.”
“Sure Buffy, that’s why you’re wearing all those psycho-sized bruises, right?”
Willow.
Buffy had wondered how long it would take before the single pronged attack grew another prong. The arms folded tight across her chest, the face resolving to show nothing but distaste. And that mouth, that sweet and pretty little mouth doing nothing except adding more of the acid to all of the things that had already been said.
“I guess you’ll just never learn, huh? Faith’s evil Buffy, she does evil things - and that’s not just some wacky opinion, it’s a statement of fact. Look at what she’s done to you… she’s hurt you again. Are we just supposed to ignore this too?”
And how did she counter that? What damning words could Buffy choose to use that would deflect and deflate everything that Willow was seeking to say?
She didn’t know. There was no defence that could prove Faith wasn’t evil; she had done evil things… lots of evil things; but those were the ways of the past. Even tonight, with Buffy prone beneath her and absolutely willing to accept her direction… what had Faith done?
“She kissed me.”
Confirmed. Made fact. Something that couldn’t be ignored.
Something that now dropped everyone’s jaw. Not just Willow’s, not just Giles’… everybody’s. Kennedy’s eyes as wide as her girlfriend’s; all of the slayers caught seemingly in headlights.
“You what?”
Yet Willow the one who still wanted the stage.
“She kissed me. I kissed her. Not a hint of evil involved.”
“You better tell me you’re kidding… you didn’t kiss her. You would never kiss Faith.”
“Would, could and did. Enjoyed every second of it.”
And somehow the room had found a way to shrink. The stage spinning to include only the two. Everyone else reduced only to audience.
“Could you get more twisted? What did you do Buffy - get her to beat you first, just to get the juices flowing?”
“You really wanna do this?”
“Do what - dissect your need to sleep with the dregs? I guess there are some core issues that need addressing, but with the way that you’ve been acting lately-”
“Me! The way that I’ve been acting? Give me a break Will, you’re the one that’s gone all green-eyed monster, you’re the one who needs to get a grip on the core issue.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“What do you think it means?”
The question dangling in the air and amplified by the silence. Buffy’s eyes grandstanding intense as she dared Willow to lay it all out on the line. As she dared her to take the twisted words of accusation and turn them back on herself. “Got nothing to say, Will?”
Letting her know. Showing her that she knew how deep the core issue really went - that sure, it may have taken her a whole lotta years to get a handle on all of the dynamics; but she was there now. She understood now.
No reply forthcoming.
Just eyes that seemed to doubt and then to wither. A mouth that went to speak and then stayed silent.
And Buffy turned away. Left Kennedy to be the one who shot a glare across to Willow. Instead focusing her attention back on Giles; waiting for the torrent of dismay that she was sure she’d now be facing.
“What about you, Giles? You wanna wade in with a few watcherly words on how messed up I am?”
“I… quite frankly Buffy, I don’t know what you expect me to say.”
“What do I expect…? Well, support would be nice, maybe a little understanding. Heck, it’s not like the whole world’s gonna end just because I kissed Faith.”
“No, I rather suspect that it isn’t. Though I do have to say that a situation where you and Faith were… kissing, well, you must realise that it’s a bolt out of the blue? You don’t look as though…”
His hands waved in the vague direction of all over her. Pointing out the obvious beating that it looked like she had taken, his eyes offering not only confusion but also concern.
“It’s nothing, Giles. We’re talking about me and Faith here, and that was never gonna be all sunshine and flowers. We had words - there were punches - and then… well, then there weren’t. Or there were, but just the one, and that was totally different.”
“Excellent. Glad you managed to clear that up for me. So where is Faith now?”
Oh.
Of course.
Buffy had done well to forget that she still had to divulge how the kissing had led to fleeing and a whole lot of worry about how Faith was reacting. Or coping. Or not coping. Back on the spot now. Able to admit quite easily how lips had travelled to places unexpected, but squirming under the spotlight when she had to find the words to tell the rest of the tale…
“Did I mention that we kissed twice?”
“Buffy, her location please?”
“Right, her location… that’s a little on the hazy side at the moment…”
“The hazy side?”
“…I mean, it wasn’t like we really talked that much. You know how Faith can be when it comes to talking - all short, sharp and straight to the point. I did want to ask where she was running off to in such a hurry…”
The eyes narrowing on her. And she could see him getting it. Could hear the almost silent sigh that slipped out not unnoticed. Could see the way that he was looking to weigh up the stupidity of her actions.
“Please tell me that you haven’t made matters worse? That Faith isn’t out there now; god knows where, in god knows what frame of mind, all because you were determined to go gung-ho with your hormones and force forward the issue.”
“Hey, she kissed me first! The only issue I was looking to force forward was that I needed to see her.”
“That’s hardly the point here…”
And she wondered what the point was as he removed the glasses from his head and ran a tired hand through his hair. “…Bloody hell, Buffy. I can only hope that there are going to be no dire consequences to your actions; not only for you, but also for Faith. I suggest you call Angel, he needs to know that she’s out there alone, and then we need to be thinking about ways of finding her.”
Buffy was completely certain that she didn’t need to be regurgitating this conversation to Angel. She was more than sure that it would only lead the way to more of the hell scenario. He was going to be pissed at her - it was one of life’s givens.
“How about you call Angel, and me and the girls get going on the finding part?”
“Sounds good to me Buffy, I’m more than ready to get out of here.”
Seeing the slayers protecting her periphery; already stepping up again, already willing to take her lead as opposed to anyone else. And she found a smile for them.
“Thanks Ken, guys… I guess we need to saddle up, split into groups… take a walk downtown…”
“That’s quite enough. I really don’t think that we should proceed with anything until I’ve managed to speak to Angel. I understand that my opinion isn’t worth much around here anymore, but I would urge complete caution when attempting to deal with Faith. You can’t dismiss what she’s capable of Buffy… you certainly shouldn’t be looking to involve the new slayers in such a volatile situation.”
“We’re involving ourselves. We don’t need Buffy telling us what to do, or you; this is our call. Faith is a slayer… we’re already involved.”
“You have no idea Kennedy, what you’re dealing with here…”
“All the more reason to go and find out. She’s just one slayer, we’re practically a dozen - what do you think she could do to us?”
“I’d rather not find out.”
Like a stalemate. The stares flitting between many, until finally, whether they meant to or not, they turned and rested again on Buffy. Whether she wanted them to or not. All that Buffy wanted was to find Faith and settle some of the confusion… maybe find a bed and rest her head in the memories of the evening. She did not want to be pushed to the fore again, didn’t want to be in control when all of her latest decisions had been so readily attacked.
“I don’t know, okay? Giles, I guess you should go ahead and call Angel, we should probably find out if she’s already headed back there. Girls, maybe Giles has a point… if we find Faith, I can pretty much guarantee that she won’t be looking to play nice; I don’t want anyone getting hurt because I-”
“Whoa, slow down great leader. We already told Giles we don’t need orders. You know we’ve got your back, got Faith’s too if she needs it - just tell us where to look.”
The words enough to get everyone moving. Buffy had watched Willow roll her eyes and turn to leave the lobby. Not trying to protest against anyone, maybe knowing that her protests held no weight anymore… just skulking away, sadness in mind. And Giles, his almost eager grab for the telephone, his even more eager words to Angel.
Wanting to laugh at the way he managed to talk around everything that had really happened, as if even he knew how much Angel would have to say on the issue. She hadn’t laughed though. Beneath the forced joviality, it was all still much too serious for smiling. Faith hadn’t run home, she was still out there all alone. Not knowing where. Not knowing what mindset. Just arranging to meet the girls again in twenty. Long enough to get changed… to pull back her hair in a way that meant all business.
Nothing close to long enough to work out what the hell she thought she was going to do when they finally found Faith.
The bathroom mirror was the only place that Buffy allowed to see the things that she hadn’t been able to put into words in the lobby. Her fingertips trembling as she lifted them to trace the outline of her lips; her breath catching as she remembered everything that they had felt. Were still feeling. The brutality in an instant that had been cushioned by the softness that followed. The urgency that Faith had used to pound her mouth with the tantalising taste of her tongue.
God. A kiss that she had neither dreamt of nor expected. A kiss that was still rocking everything that Buffy liked to refer to as her world.
She had slowly been coming to terms with the way that she felt for Faith; she had spoken of love to Xander, had explained the feeling to herself, but she hadn’t been prepared to deal with a situation where Faith had smacked her so hard with her lips. The fists were expected. The kicks were an obvious follow up…
But a kiss?
And not just a kiss, not the kind of kiss that could be put down to something like the heat of a moment - it was more like the heat of every moment. Every war torn glare that they had exchanged over time, every hurt intoned word that had marked out all of their boundaries. To Buffy it seemed like natural progression. She hadn’t expected that Faith would share the same conclusion.
Yet it had been Faith who had sparked the conclusion. Had been the one who had insisted that this was the path that they would follow.
The bathroom mirror didn’t hold the answers for Buffy. It held her beat-up reflection and slightly bemused expression, but it didn’t answer back when she asked the question why? Didn’t offer words of comfort and guidance when her eyes took on the look of lost. A certainty that only made her sigh.
And now what?
The soft tap against her door making her wonder if her twenty was up already, if the slayers were chomping at the bit in an effort to get the show on the road. Taking a final breath, splashing her face one last time with the cooling stream of water and turning to take control. Remembering strength, remembering leadership, and drawing back the door with all of that on view…
“Xander?”
“Hey, can I come in?”
More of the completely unexpected.
“What are you… why aren’t you sleeping?”
“And pass up on all of the crazy excitement? Not a chance. Anyway, I’ve got some inside info that I think you might be interested in.”
“Yeah? Well unless you know where Faith’s hightailed it to, I’m seriously lacking the time.”
“What - Faith’s missing? Darn it Buffy… I told ya not to go looking for an ambush. You should probably think about listening to me more often, I really am a whole heap smarter than I look.”
“Well there’s a relief.”
She found one of those smiles that looked to tinkle a laugh as she pulled back the door to offer him entry. Stretching out her neck and dropping soft to the bed. So sorely tempted to just lay back and close her eyes. “So what’s the info? You have an idea on where Faith might have gone?”
“My guess? I reckon she’d be looking to kick the ass of whoever set her up.”
And it took a moment. Buffy’s thoughts fleeing in every direction as she wondered where exactly that would be. His smirk trying to prompt her along… her eyes flying wide as it began to make sense.
“Wait, you mean - you know where she is, don’t you?”
“See, you’re a lot smarter than you look, too.”
“Xander…”
Not playing. Not wanting to play.
“Lighten up Buff. I nearly took one hell of an ass whupping tonight because of you; at least allow me a little fun in return.”
Except that nothing in Buffy was about finding the fun. Not right then, not when her mind was close to breaking from all of the strain of too much to comprehend. Not even really understanding what Xander was trying to tell her - no clue as to why he was there, what he was offering…
“Where is she, Xander?”
The only thing that really mattered. “How is she?”
The only other thing.
“She’s okay. She’s not killing anyone. Came a little too close for a minute; thought maybe she was gonna teach me how to fly without the wings. She’s pissed, a whole lot of confused. She wants to see you.”
“What?”
“She wants to see you.”
“I heard the words… but, what?”
There was no way that she could continue to remain sitting down. That her thoughts could even dream about sleeping anymore with that little nugget of information screaming loud in her ears. Buffy had been waiting for this moment for what seemed like a lifetime. Since the night that she had driven in the knife right up to its hilt, she had been waiting on the time when Faith would allow her to take it back out. To undo every act that had only been about hurting. Relentlessly pacing out all of the emotions that were slamming fast through her tired and tiny frame.
“Slow down, Buffster… she’s not looking for a party. She’s a whole long way away from wanting to find the fun.”
“What does she want?”
“Not my place to say. I don’t know everything that went on out there with you, but I do know that she’s pretty shook up by it all - she said some things. From the bruising I’m guessing that she hit some things too. Are you okay?”
“It’s nothing.” Buffy’s hand made the same vague gesture that Giles had made earlier - encompassing her injuries in one swift sweep. Brushing them aside. “Where is she, Xander?”
“You’re gonna go easy on her, right? You know how hard she’s been trying with all this… it wouldn’t be fair to mess it up for her.”
“You think I’d do that?”
“No, not on purpose. Just… go easy. You’re like her blind-spot or something, she has trouble dealing…”
And she didn’t have time for this. The excitement about a possibility of a conclusion was being tempered by the terrifying thought of everything that could happen. Good or bad. Or both. All fizzing through her with the speed of a runaway express train… trying to put the brakes on, trying to gather something like sense.
“I’ll go easy. I’ll go the easiest. I don’t want to hurt her anymore, you know you don’t need to worry about that. Now where is she Xander?”
“Up on the roof.”
“Huh?”
“I know, totally too much like a James Taylor recital, but it is where she is.”
James who?
Buffy was stuck in a different place in a different time, when up on the roof only preceded the fall to the ground. The blood pouring. Her hands showing everything that she had done. The life that she had taken. Up on the roof.
“What’s she doing up there?”
“Waiting for you. Other than that, it was a safe place to go, no one else goes up there. I’m not even sure if people know you can go up there. Just take the stairs to the top - oh, and knock three times on the door when ya get there. She doesn’t want unexpected guests.”
Okay…
“I have to let the girls know, let Giles know…”
“I’ll take care of the Buffy brigade, you take care of Faith. And tell her I said not to hit you anymore - might also be good to mention that you don’t like to fly.”
“Why does this suddenly feel like I’m walking towards an execution?”
“Because you love the melodramatic? It’ll be fine. Just keep it easy, let her say what she wants to say, and don’t push it. Let her have her peace, Buffy. She needs it.”
“Right. Peace, no pushing, no flying - are you sure about this?”
The terrifying taking hold a whole lot more than the excitement. Still reeling from the kiss, still aching from the kicks… apprehension doing its best to reach out and strangle her.
“Just go, Buff. She’s waiting, she’ll be getting antsy.”
“Antsy. Okay. I’m going……”
“You need to actually move.”
“Thinking about it.”
“Buffy…”
And maybe this was it. A foothold. A chokehold. Destiny or damnation. Buffy had no idea what would be waiting to meet her on the roof - whether it would be a run through of all of the things that she longed to forget - whether it would be the final conclusion to something that she prayed would never have a conclusion. Like walking towards an execution.
And Faith the one who was guarding the gallows.
There were no gallows on the roof though. Just stars that were muted by the blinding lights of downtown LA, and a slayer that was muted by all of the things that had happened that night.
Faith had slayed again. She had felt that same flaming fire erupt in her soul to burn in the face of all things evil. She had felt liberated by the dust that signalled her return. And she had found a belief in the feeling that she could do this. She could be okay again… she could follow Angel’s direction and maybe one day return to her life. A new life. Something that wasn’t all about nothing.
And then…
She blew out a sigh that rose up to the moon, as she tried to put any kind of words to what had happened after. Almost still a blur - like a blip - someone that shouldn’t have been there… that shouldn’t have stuck their two fucking cents in. Again. Always riding her ass, always being the better. Making Faith put paid to that with punches that demanded a hearing, with hits that reduced everything down to the hate that she had always been destined to feel.
Not always.
The tinted pinks and dipping green. The confusion of what all of that meant to her.
Faith wasn’t even sure why she was up there now, what the fuck she thought she could achieve by casting her eyes over Buffy… how looking into the green would do anything other than have her falling again.
Pain from the last fall still close enough to touch. Still recent enough to have her flirting with the edge of the roof in a twisted temptation to end it all again. To recover the easiness of unconsciousness. A large part of her wanting it. A larger part begging for it. But Faith was trying. Trying so fucking hard to silence those voices; to make a decision that wasn’t based entirely upon being the fuck up.
She could do this. She would do this.
Absently running her fingers across her lips. Holding her breath on the memory that she didn’t want to think about. Would take the plunge before she did think about.
Just lips…
…just…
No.
Fists clenching. Mind crunching. Because it wasn’t about that and would never be about that. Faith had defiled that feeling a thousand times over, and no moment of madness, no minute of absolute fucked up wonder, was going to drag her back towards something that she knew she would never be able to deal with.
Faith was here to say goodbye. She was here for her swansong. She was here for the final death before life could begin.
Three taps against the door making the reality seem harsher. Not making sounds to grant an entrance, just keeping her place that guarded the edge… so close to one way, trying so hard to seek out another.
“Faith?”
Hearing the voice that had shadowed her dreams in all of the time that she could remember. Now time. Down time. Every time.
“Xander said you wanted to see me… you do want to see me, right?”
Not turning. Not letting her eyes leave the stars.
“You want me to start?”
Not letting the pain in her chest move her anymore than the pain that had seemed determined to dog her the whole of her life. Ominous tones finally breaking free to ask a question - the question - something that she had always longed to know the answer to. Toes creeping forward. Her mind screaming backwards. Her voice scratching the air as she breathed out the words.
“How far do I have to fall B, until I hit the bottom?”
Leaving the stars. Looking into the green.
And falling again.
