You can love two people. But you can't be in love with them both.

If you're ever going to move on from Faith, if you're ever going to be happy, you have to let her go.

You can't race around the world trying to save her and you can't hold her in so much of your heart that you sometimes fear the only reason you love Rosy so much is that she's a mini-Faith.

"Hey." Her head pops round the intricate railings.

You chuckle softly and bitterly, your left wrist throbs. "Get out of here Faith."

"Ok. Shit, blame Willow- she sent me with some food for you," She chucks a paper carton of canapés down at your feet and turns to leave, "I was just trying to do a good deed, check you were alright."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

The sarcasm makes her stop and snigger, "Aside from the shortest marriage ever?"

"Aside from that…"

"Ya sittin' in the cold in a dress that…" She leans forward, "annoyingly doesn't show it off?"

"Wha-?" You look down then roll your eyes, "Why would I be upset my nipples aren't pointing out?"

"Yo, you tell me- ya the one in the street not wearin' much…"

She winks and you chuckle. "You're a hideous person."

"Dude, that is so not what you were saying la-"

"Don't!" You kick her calf, "Stop with the smut, young lady, I'm a married woman now." Her eyebrow raises, "Yeah, until the whole annulment thing… goes… through… how long can I feasibly use that?"

Faith considers, head on one side, then sits at your feet, pulling open the carton and throwing veal pate on French bread, a smoked salmon bilini and a sweet cream puff in her mouth at once. "I'd say…" She starts, way, way, way before it's appropriate to start talking. Ugh, veal and cream even looks gross! "Two weeks for being checked out, three for innuendo and five for all out flirting."

"That's a comfo- Faith! Do not add a prawn mousse to that! Ewgh, you're so-"

"Attractive?"

"Disgusting! And please, stop talking." Though you have missed her real accent.

She shrugs, tosses in something that looks suspiciously like caviar d'aubergine then grins. It's hard to resist searching her eyes- her smile throws you off; is she abnormally happy, excited, high...? Until you realise she just saw the woman she loves running out of her wedding to another person.

That smile suddenly seems a lot brighter.

"So… whatcha gonna do now?"

"I don't know. I don't know what to do. Or how I feel. I… should probably be on some kind of daytime soap."

"You slept with his brother?"

"No!"

She giggles, "His mother?"

"Faith!"

"You killed someone and he was the only witness so you beat him until he had amnesia and then planned to marry him so he couldn't testify against you in court only he then hit his head again and remem-"

"Faith!" You reach down to smack her arm, "Stop it. Geez, you have such an overactive imagination!"

"Says the woman who's already picked the centrepieces for her six-year-old daughter's wedding!"

"Centrepieces are important! Why does nobody get that? Plus, they were meant to match our dresses."
There's yet another uncomfortable silence- something you've apparently become very good at creating. But oddly, despite the fact she pretty much is the problem, everything seems so much better, just by her presence.

She's in jeans- not designer or posh or anything, just jeans- with a man's polo shirt, tied in a knot at her waist so not to drown her, and her hair scruffled up from the quick change. You rethink them being boyfriend-cut jeans and consider her mugging some poor chap instead. "Oh, God, 'chap'!"

"What?"

"Nothing, nothing." Stupid Englishness. "You're just not… in a dress anymore."

"Dude, that thing's a gown- and not great for chasing after fugitive brides in. Trust me," She smirks, "I'm pretty hot on correctional types."

"Well it's good to know you weren't bored in prison."

You shake your head at the offer of a devilled egg- caviar is tasty but you have a thing against eating food with the word 'evil' in. Wind change pushes the rain further under the rattling metal roof and she slides gracefully up to sit on the step beside you.

"And I was worried all you had to do was get fat and watch Glitter."

"Ouch!" She chuckles, patting her not-so-delicate heart, "You wound me!"

The English accent is back and your lips get thinner. "Mm… you'll live."

"No, oh," Faith sighs exaggeratedly, wiping at her face, "Tear! Wounded by a Bridezilla!"

You flip her a rude hand gesture, "I am not a Bridezilla- I took all my bridesmaids on holiday before the wedding!"

"Only so you could make them sunbathe topless and have your last look at girlie-flesh while making sure they didn't have the 'wrong' tan lines."

"Dawn told you!?" Traitor!

"No. Was that actually true?"

Her grin only broadens when you nudge her off the step, "I hate you. I had to make sure they didn't have those awful white lines coming out the top. And yes, I know the dresses aren't strapless- and 'ew', by the way, it's a church. You cover your shoulders in churches- but I wanted to make doubly sure no one wore a halter-neck because it took me three weeks to decide on the design for the tops and that beautiful scoop with the fold-over is there to look good."

"You know that, aside from that caplet-thing, your dress is actually strapless, right?"

You look up at her and stick out your tongue, "I didn't say it had to make sense. And it's a bolero."
Faith laughs sweetly and without a hint of awareness. There is nothing in her eyes to say this is even the slightest bit awkward for her.

It's not as if the two of you don't have an awful and complicated history with strings and baggage and all those other things people complain about… but when it's just the two of you, sharing jibes and tiny bits of soggy pastry… well, it just seems… it just seems better. No matter what part of you she breaks, no matter how many men you attempt to marry, no matter what anyone else thinks, when you're with each other it's the easiest thing in the world. At least, when it's the 'real' Faith. Maybe you should marry Faith?

Kennedy's words ring out in your mind again; 'just stop messing everyone the fuck around!'.

It's a fair point.

"Henry must think I hate him." You raise a brow. "Kinda just glared at him today. And mighta stuck my tongue out at one point." The dried tear tracks on her cheeks crinkle as she smiles to pretend they're not there. That makeup must be pretty expensive, it's barely budged.

"You sent him your 'best wishes' in that 'Happy Engagement' card- he appreciated it."

"Oh, no, no, no," She tuts in her Best British Accent, "You congratulate the groom- you give the bride your best wishes. Besides, Mimtal sent the card, I merely signed my name."

Ugh! "Please stop doing that accent."

"What accent?" Faith holds the seriousness for a few moments and then snorts in laughter.

"Seriously, do you wake up every morning and think of fun ways to ruin my life?" Because, if so, well done on a remarkably good job.

"Oh, you mean 'antagonise' you?"

"Stop it!"

She frowns ironically- as if such a thing were possible. "Stop antagonising you or stop using long words that you're supposed to understand now you're brunette?"

Ah, Bridal Hair. At the back of your head there's enough backcombing and hairspray to possibly loose a pencil. "It's for Henry- the brown- he loves natural hair." Which is a stupid thing to say apparently- joking about Henry is fine but mentioning things he loves seems to make her… well, she just stops. And looks at you.

"Oh."

"I should probably dye it red or something!" You blather to cover her silence but instead make it more obvious. "Red! Not 'Buffy Blonde' or 'Bethy Brown' but- but… ok, I can't think of a way to say 'Red' that begins with a 'B' or… or a way to say my name that- 'Bea'! I'll be 'Bea'! And my hair will be… B-… B… ok, I can't-" She snorts, "Can't think of… uh… never mind, I'd probably look dumb anyway. Single and Ginger."

You expect her to sit too close next to you, tell you you're pretty and that she's never stopped loving you- that, even when you stood at that alter and let him hold your hand in his, you were still hers.

Instead she leans against the railing, lights a cigarette and blows smoke-rings away from you.

"I thought you'd given up?"

"Gave up for Rose. Not much point if I never see her."

It's said without bitterness or the weary tone of someone so resigned. It's alright, this moment, it's ok. No need to fight.

No need to talk about your reluctance to allow her prolonged contact with Rose.

No need to mention you've given her daughter a new father.

"I don't blame you." She reaches over to smooth away your frown with the tips of her fingers- the way she used to. "Sometimes I wish she wasn't mine, that she belonged to the both of you- all I want is for her to be happy. And for your life to be perfect. Kinda ruined that little fantasy by running out of your wedding though."

You wince as she chuckles. You're so going to hell.

Faith apologises gruffly when she sees it and moves across the tiny space to sit on the doorstep. "I didn't mean it that way." The cigarette is offered over as a consolation prize- since when have you smoked in Faith's mind?

"No, no, you're right- I've ruined my daughter's life…" She pats the space next to her and you settle back down into it, "Wait, what do you mean 'fantasy'?" You ask in confusion, never before it having crossed your mind that Faith might have dreams as you do. "As in- 'happy home life' or 'weirdly Faith is imagining me naked with another person'?"

"I have lots of 'imagining you naked with other people's." She leers.

"Did you not hear me say 'weirdly'?"

"It's natural! Besides, I meant the other one- the 'happy family' one… 'cept normally it's not another person in that one." You gaze at her in mild confusion as she tries to explain, "I want the two of you to be happy. To have this great life where getting to school on time is your biggest problem and I know that's not going to be with me so I at least want it to be with him. With someone who you love."

It takes a minute for you to realise she's not waiting for you to protest that- to say you don't love him. She genuinely just wants both you and Rosy to be happy. And suddenly you can't see why having her in your life would hinder that. "Faith?"

"Yeah?"

"It's over. I really left him."

"Bummer." She sighs, "For him!" Correcting once you glare. "Obviously it's bad that his poor, American wife, who has no real job or money of her own and never fitted in with his family has left him."

"Thank you so much for parroting back the fears I told you while thinking you were unconscious- that doesn't make me feel weird at all!"

Faith chuckles and shoves your shoulder, "You're welcome, Fatty. Besides, you should know that people can actually hear when they're in a hypnagogic state- not in a deep coma but…" A blush spreads across her cheeks as you stare at her, "I spent some time working with a team of doctors."

"While you were in the coma?"

"Ok, fine, I Wikipedia-d."

Her eyes light up when you laugh, "You're as bad as Rose! Always desperate to know things."

"There's nothing wrong with that."

"No, you're right, there isn't."

She smiles softly and you nod back. "You should eat something."

The vol-au-vont sneer up at you. "I think the food is trying to mock me."

Faith agrees with gravity, "It's the shellfish, it likes to deride anything with its bones on the inside."

"Who knew crustaceans had so much in common with Charlotte Darling?" You laugh a little unkindly. "Well, aside from being 'crusty'."

The Dowager's Darling rolls her eyes but otherwise doesn't deign to contradict. Another cigarette is pulled from the pack- which, you're assuming, actually belongs to the poor guy she stole the clothes from. Or Faith has found the time to graduate from Durham and pick up a commemorative silver lighter. "Hey," She pauses, once her hand is again swallowed by a huge pocket. "Want to see something stupidly corny?"

You nod, a little unsure- Faith's definition of things aren't always everyone else's. 'Decency' is a little contentious apparently. "You're not going to show me a disturbingly situated tattoo are you because I'm a married woman now and… it's just wrong?"

A beat. "You're so weird." Takes one to know one. "No, look." She pulls out of the pocket a necklace; chipped silver-plating and dull glass beads.

Are you supposed to be gracious with her or are exceptions made for people you've spent many hours documenting appropriate presents with? "You know, most people give toasters, espresso-makers, entire sets of Wedgwood china…" Thank you Henry's snooty parents, "A 'dozen double-damask dinner napkins'. You don't think I have to give those back now, do you?"

"Nah, it's cool… should probably point out that your wedding gift from me was a bunch of rotten bananas…"
Just when you think she can't get any stranger, "Uh, why? I hate bananas. And pretty much everyone hates rotten fruit."

"I know. I just figured you'd probably kill me if I ruined your 'special day' in an obvious way so I was sneaky and now all your gifts will smell like the thing you hate. Forever. I'm sneaky like that."

"I'm impressed. I didn't think you had it in you to be subtly evil."

"Well I do!" She passes the necklace over, pressing it into your palm. "Do you really not recognise it?"

Tiny silver links that catch the light, small clear beads with what looks like many faces on the inside, making the light catch and then bounce out like a delicate disco ball… and a small 'B' in the centre- about the only thing untouched by age. The exact place you picked it up escapes you but it quite possibly had something to do with your father's guilt and a trip to Florida. "I gave it to you for Christmas, in Sunnydale, 199…8. But then I worried it wasn't good enough so I gave you t-"

"Don't!" She glares, half laughing, half genuine fear. "I thought we agreed to never talk about… that again?"
"And we wouldn't if you didn't stop going on about your 'scarred' hand." She studies the three faint lines between her thumb and forefinger then sucks them like it'll help. "You've carried that necklace around all these years?"

She shrugs as if thirteen years isn't a long time. "It reminded me of good stuff."

"I get that. God, you have no idea how often I wish everything to go back to the way it was… the way it was before, when you weren't…" Crazy. "Real." Because she was always a little crazy.

Faith screws up her face, "Uh, B, you're not that much older than me and as nice as it is that you want to regress I doubt you'd have that much fun doing it- you remember how much Rosy hated diapers, right?"

"Shut up. I meant… you used to be this… this dream-girl." With chocolate eyes and swishing hair and a spirit that sparked against yours. "And yes, you were a little… insane and liked to beat people up for fun; both vamps and beefy guys in bars- but you just didn't seem real somehow." Like water she always flowed through your fingers- the pretty girl always just out of reach. But, you suppose, she still is a 'girl'- it's not just your 'constant desire to infantilise her' (thank you Giles). It seems silly to think it and stupid to voice it. "I guess I was just foolish and teenage. Never mind."

"Nah." She nods, "I kinda put you on a pedestal too. Makes it harder to fall."

"'Further'. You mean 'it's further to fall'."

"No, I mean it hurts harder when you hit the bottom."

You roll your eyes, "But you said 'harder to fall'- 'to', like you can't be knocked off."

"Well, obviously you can and when you are it hurts more when you hit the bottom." The box of canapés is snatched and a piece of choux pastry flies through the air to smack you in the face.

"Ew!" A small prawn trips down the side of your face. "And I'm not arguing with that!"

"So why are you yelling?!"

Prawn gunk sinks quickly into make up. You pause from attempting to rub it off to give her an 'are you kidding me?!' look. Which, of course, goes undetected. "Because you said the wrong thing!" 'And threw yet more food at me!'

She sucks her teeth because you hate it. "You're really annoying."

"You're kinda dumb."

"You're kinda a bitch."

"You're a little bit gay."

"Dude, you just left your amazing husband- you're a lot gay."

"Mm."

But how gay exactly?

Faith wrings her fingers together, "You know, I… I just… some how I think I could understand it better, accept it more, if it was Satsu you were marrying."

"Oh come on, I've slept with Satsu twice." Faith barely lowers herself to raise an eyebrow. "Ok, fine, three times and one I'm repressing but that doesn't mean anything!"

"You've been living with her for six years and raising our daughter together."

"I has not been…" Who does Rose call for when she's hurt? "like…" How many times have you come home to find a cooked meal and bubble bath waiting? "that. Wow, no wonder Rose is confused. I'm confused."

"Of that we are painfully aware." She smirks, in her perfect English accent.

"I'm really not above hitting you."

"But are you low enough to hit on me?"

You gape and turn from her faster than could be gracious.

Stupid love!

Stupid life!

Stupid mess!

Stupid always leading Faith on! "No- wait- I… Faith… this isn't… I'm not… I… I'm not trying to… I don't want…"

"Me."

"That's…" A thump begins behind your eyes to match the one in your wrist. "That's not what I'm saying."

"I just want to be happy, I just want…" You don't want her back as a lover. You want her back as a parent. "Everything seems so dark right now. Everything seems so…" Yet she won't understand, she has no idea about Emily.

She hasn't exactly been around to notice your growing stomach and, despite being proficient in a freakishly large amount of languages, Faith can't write for shit- thus ruling out being pen pals.

Not that you'd have any idea where to even send the damn letter.

The rain begins to batter down against the metal porch roof. It's the only sound and the dull thup, thup, thup reverberates between you. Faith frowns, obviously thinking deep thoughts.

"Hello awkward silence, how I have missed you in the last five minutes." You smirk and expect her to do the same. She doesn't.

"So… what happened? Are you… are you… I mean, it's not like he had a good reason to break it off. You are going back to him? Right?"

You study the jagged scar on the inside of your wrist, where the bone broke through the skin. Above it sits Henry's ring. "I told him I'd never love anyone as much as you."

"Oh. That probably is a good reason." The shell-shocked smile spreads across her face. "Wow." You smile back, "You know, technically, you're actually married to me."

"Explain. Please."

"Well," 'don't laugh' her eyes ask, "I once lived in your skin. And you lived in mine. So we're the same person. Technically."

Trust Faith to take two and two and make butter! "No, we were the same person. Then we got put back in our right bodies and divorced!"

She shakes her head, "Yeah, see, I didn't sign any papers- I'm not sure that divorce was fully legal."

"You didn't sign any to get married either! And I have no recollection of ever saying 'I do' to you- EVER."

"Hey, you're the one who held my hand- your funny blue soul touched my funny red soul." A soft shrug.

"Married."

"You remember the colours of our souls?"

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, "Uh… or you might have been the red one and I'm the blue one. You do look good in red."

"And you look amazing in blue," She really, really does- especially soft, powder blue. It makes her skin look creamy when she has a tan and delicately porcelain when she doesn't. "But it's a struggle getting you into anything that nice."

"You ruined my favourite blue bikini- now every time I look at other blue clothing it just feels like I'm cheating."

"You were cheating- that's why I ruined your bikini!" Ah, the months after Italy… such… excruciatingly unbearable memories… almost makes you want to…

"Oh yeah."

"Yeah."

She flicks away her cigarette- out into the wet and murky blackness- and stands too quickly, moving as far away from you as possible.

"Look, Faith, I can't… I can't promise that in a month's time this is all going to be sorted and there'll be some kind of quick annulment and I'll stop loving him and you can just slot back into our lives, but-"

"I get it." She ducks her head and watches the rain drip down onto the pavement from the awning above you.

"No. You don't." The dress makes another horrific crunching noise as you slide inelegantly off the step and over to her. "I want you Faith, I want you more than anything. But I don't… I don't want it like this. I don't want it to be like this. Does that make sense?"

You want the teenage dream, you want the illusion of perfection created in the hospital while giving birth- you want to feel safe and secure and loved. What you don't want it is a broken wrist and this constant back-and-forth; having to lie to Rose to the point where the poor kid truly believes that Henry is her father.

Faith is hovering slightly on a precipice right now, which is to be expected- normally these big traumatic events send her spiralling either up or down. Her self-restraint today is admirable. You can't stand to be around her when she's 'like that' because the things spewing from her mouth are so not her that it near-literally tears your heart in two to hear it from someone usually so strong. You know you love someone when you'll stick by them through anything, you know you're in love with someone when you can't bear to see them destroyed. 'Don't.' You want to tell her; 'don't get lost.'

You try to catch her eye but she looks away, frowning angrily at a lamppost as if she wants to burn a hole through it with her super powered glare. "You know, I do actually have a life. I'm not just the moon to your planet- I don't just 'slot' into your life. How do you know I don't have someone? How do you know I'm not busy? How do you know I still want to be a part of your little soap opera?"

"Excuse me?!"

"It's not always about you! What if I just want Rosy? What if I never want anything to do with you again?"
You try to think back, try to remember, every look, every word, every touch over the last four and a half years. The ones that lingered and suggested, the passionate ones that wanted so much to just do, just say, just be. She loves you. "But you do."

"You don't know that! You can't just assume!" She stands up and tries to pace, except the space is so small it's pretty much just one step there, one step back and she soon realises how stupid she looks.

There was a time when you did that, a time when you moved not just to move but with the hope that by walking out your aggression you could divert your anger away from punching in her face. Actually, there've been a lot of those times.

Faith went missing on your eighteenth birthday, coincidentally just as you'd had your powers taken away by your fucking-! So not the time.

So, your powers had been taken away and all you'd wanted was for Faith to be there; not just because another slayer would have been incredibly useful at that point but also because you really, really, needed a hug. It was late February by the time you finally got around to actually kissing so in mid-January a hug still seemed like the ultimate in naughty treats. They were the long kind (where you hold on for just a little too much time but it doesn't matter because she totally just sniffed your hair) and the two of you were taking practically any excuse to sneak them in.

Stupidly, you'd become so addicted to the damn things that you hadn't waited, like Giles told you to, for you powers to come back before you slipped out to find her. On the trip between her empty motel room and The Bronze you'd been jumped by a vamp- although in your semi-weakened condition it felt like three- who'd torn your cute top and messed up the hair you spent two hours teasing into huggable perfection. Once you'd tumbled into the club (after flirting excessively with the bouncer so he'd actually let you in looking like garbage) your eyes had shot to the middle of the dance floor, where she normally was, holding everyone's attention, but even though Stag, the Creepy But Hopefully Gay Bartender, assured you she was 'in tonight' there was no sign of her.

If you could go back in time you're not sure what you'd tell your younger self; would making her wait by the bar have changed anything? Would the Sliding Doors-ness of it all have meant you'd have calmed down enough to continue building the friendship regained at Christmas or would not seeing Faith coming out of the guy's bathroom zipping up her pants, closely followed by some random college boy doing the same, have made no difference? Stupid hindsight.

You'd already been so angry about the disappearing, the betrayal, the vampire-jumping and The Council being their usual shitty selves that seeing her… like that, had boiled your blood until you could do nothing but scream at her like the powerless, soppy teenage girl you suddenly found yourself to be. There was even a clichéd storm-off.

She followed you out the back door and stood calling after you in the dark alley- tellingly not apologising or even attempting to explain but instead warning to be careful in the dark night.

"Don't go on your own! Let me walk you back!"

"No!" You'd stopped though and turned (if only, you told yourself, to tell her off), "No! You can't play the concerned friend now and then disappear whenever something really big is happening!"

Faith gave you her patented 'you're a crazy girl' look, "How can I know something big is happening if you never tell me anything?!"

"I never tell you things?! I never tell you?! You tell me nothing about anything! I don't even-" The truth was, there were just too many things you didn't know about her to make a list. "Even…" Her red top had had a dark stain- blood, alcohol, something you didn't want to think about- in the exact place yours had been torn. "You don't even have an excuse, do you?"

She didn't.

It was only hours later, through the hazy memories of dried tears that you realized- you hadn't formalised your 'thing'- she didn't owe you one.

"I'm not yours ok? I don't belong to you- I do not have 'Property of Buffy Summers' tattooed on my forehead!" Faith hits the metal bars, making them clang awfully.

But unlike that time, she doesn't pull you close, apologise and swear to never so much as accidentally knock against another human being- she promised the next person she'd kiss would be you.

But it wasn't. It very publicly wasn't. Goddamn it. She made the promise again after Xander but it still wasn't…

"Yes you do!"

A murderous light ignites in her eyes, "Excuse me?"

"For fuck sake Faith! We keep going round and round when really… when really we're so obviously… I… We're…"

She smiles, waiting, "Say it. You know there's no reason why we're not together. Except your soon-to-be-annulled marriage."

You shake your head but let her rest her hands on your shoulders, "You're not stable enough for Rose, yet."

"Ouch."

"Faith, I-"

"Stop it! Don't act like you're the- the ultimate in perfect mothers when you're not! You're not in any sense of the word! You lie to our daughter and spoil her until my sweet girl, takes pleasure in- in belittling other people and making everyone around her feel inadequate!"

"Faith…"

"She asked me if I was a 'retard'!"

"What?" Again? Did she not get the point from the last talk you had with her about that!

"I told her she shouldn't eat too many grapes or her stomach would get acidy- the way it does- except I said she should eat 'less' grapes and not 'fewer' which was apparently cause to ridicule me in front of her friends."

"I'm so sorry. I'm so… oh God…" She chuckles as you drop your head down onto her shoulder. "My daughter's a bitch…"

"Yeah. I guess so. I think she gets it from your sister."

"Undoubtedly."

"Or just you."

You punch her shoulder and then wince as you unintentionally prove her point. "Damnit. You're good at this."

"Coning you into things? Yeah, it's a skill…" A red flush blooms across her face. "Not a great skill but… hey, I could probably make a career out of it!"

"Good for you." Snarky sarcasm is the best kind. "You go be a millionaire, globetrotting con woman and I'll stay unemployed, poor and homeless- don't you just love karma?"

"So stay a kept woman- marry Henry! We could sneak you back in! They'll never even notice you're gone!"

You try not to look too hopeful "It's not like you're me- a blind/deaf person with anosmia would notice when I left the room."

"And yet I'm the one being blamed for Rose's arrogance?"

She mock gasps, "I thought you said she never sees me?"

"Apparently some things are genetic."

"Like your silky hair?"

And dear lord is it shiny! "I know, right? Summers women are just naturally-" She smiles, you stop.

"How do you keep making me walk into your traps?"

"I'm a black widow, try not to mate with me."

"Don't worry, never going to happen again."

"Never." It's not a question but there is surprise in it. "So the two of us…?"

You curse yourself for being glib without thinking. It was just a saying. Right? Right? Damnit. "I don't mean… just…" Maybe you should just shut up? Forever. "Time."

"Time?"

You stand at the same time and move apart, her back to the railings and you to the stone wall, to count the tiny notches in the painted sandstone. "The thing is…" There's a throat clearing and some shuffling but you don't turn. "I think there's a point at which, a time when someone… when a person's actions might… might cause you to fall out of… loving them. Not- not completely, I… I- you would still 'love' them of course! But… There comes a point at which a person's actions make you fall out of love."

"You don't love me."

"I love you. I just… I…" Have completely lost the ability to explain yourself. "I need time to-" No. No, because you really don't. You're not the one who needs time.

This is too confusing. And stupid. Big stupid. Everything is stupid.

How about you just leave them all? You can leave Rose to be raised by Henry and Sassy, let Faith kill herself unmonitored, put the fate of the world in other people's hands (which, to be honest, you've sort of already done) and just live on a deserted island in the middle of-

Actually, sand is kind of icky.

"I think it's more that I need you to be a little… to be… I need you to…"

"To not be myself? You said you don't want our relationship to be 'like this' and I get that, I do, I'm sorry for the mess that's been 'us' in the last few years but if you want me to be someone different then that's just not… what I want."

"Faith-"

"No!" The two of you stand there. Two planets. At opposite ends of the solar system. "Just let me- Just… what about what I want? And please, stop acting like this is my fault or like I'm the only one who messed this up because I didn't just marry some random guy who I may possibly love but probably don't and lied to my kid and everyone around me just because I think in some fucked up alternate universe that it's the right thing to do!"

She takes a deep breath and her cheeks pink from the lack of oxygen. "I-"

Your words are brushed away as Faith hurriedly lights another cigarette, pausing once turned, "Look, I know I'm not exactly parent material-"

"Right now. You're not parent material right now." You itch to take her hand or touch her bare arm but instead just fidget, knowing it's not what she wants. "I think you can be. You said earlier that you dream about Rosy being happy no matter who plays her 'dad'- being selfless is pretty much what parenting's all about."

Her past accusations hang in the air. If you're so selfish how could you ever be called a good mother? "I still think you're a good person." She answers, without being asked, "I think what you've done here is amazing- this life that you've built out of… nothing really. You're not the same girl I fell in love with; yeah, she was innocent and funny and sweet but she was naïve, stupid and… kind of a bitch as well- you're not that any more."

"You think I'm not funny?"

She laughs- not her usual one, more of a distracted titter, amused that the only thing you'd pick up on would be the insult. "You have your moments."

"Want to know new me? She has funny bits too." You smile winningly, that cute little half-smile you keep just for her. "Oh! Like the other day! When Henry was picking out my wedding dress for me and the dress assistant asked for my measurements and I turned to Henry and said 'yes darling, what size are you?' and it was totally funny because I'm the gay one! Which…" You trail off, "You'd kinda know… but they didn't! And they laughed anyway! So it was ironic and funny!"

Faith laughs out loud at your gaping smile and huge eyes, like a neurotic puppy, desperate for her approval.

"Sorry."

"Don't apologise- I think it's cute."

"My babbling?"

"No, just your general weirdness." She grins and dodges as you swat her, accidentally stepping out into the freezing rain. "Gah!"

You pull her back in and then down to the step with you. Half a ruined petticoat goes around her shoulders and the other half around yours. Weirdly, despite having just pulled up your dress you still can't actually see your legs, too much taffeta, and silk and lace and… "God, this is a stupid dress. It took me a full hour to put on this morning- with the help of professionals, who knows what the hell we were planning to do for the wedding night!" It occurs to you that you're talking about sex with a man you're probably never going to have sex with again to a girl you just might. "Pretend I didn't say that."

"Why? I like imagining him not having sex with you." You nudge her shoulder companionably and she smiles. "I really do want you back, you know."

"I know. But like you said- you don't know me anymore. And I don't know you. Everyone keeps telling me what a great person you are now and I guess I've been missing out while I was busy…" She raises an eyebrow "Avoiding you. Ok, so I'm a bad person."

"Nah," You watch as she eyes the corpse of her last cigarette, dropped when she stumbled into the rain, with a hungry look. Deep conversation always brings out the chain smoker in her. "We talked about this- you're not a bad person you're a…?"

"Self-centred one? Thanks."

She shrugs with the classic 'what you gonna do?' face.

"I'd like to get to know you. I'd like for you and Rosy to get to know each other as well- it'll probably help with the being ripped away from Henry bit too."

"Just 'cos you're not gonna marry the guy doesn't mean he's just gonna desert her. He seems like a pretty stand up guy, doubt he'd do that."

"I ran out on him on our very-expensive wedding day because I lied to him and am in love with a woman- I think not killing me is 'pretty stand-up' at this point." Which brings you to an even bigger issue; "Plus we're kinda homeless now- it's Henry's house."

"I figured."

"And it's Henry's money, but it's…" She waits as you try to think of anything in that house that actually belongs to you- other than the stuff in boxes in the attic, "It's my dress." You finish lamely.

"A dress? Your entire worldly possessions come down to a dress? That's so like you!" The petticoat slips off her shoulders as she laughs until she's clutching her sides.

"It's a very expensive dress! And it's custom made! And I'm pretty sure I'm sitting in a puddle!"

You pout until she takes pity upon you, "Aw, poor Bumble Bee, need a hug?"

"Please."

Faith throws one oddly warm arm over your chilly shoulders and pulls you in close, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. "When did you get so obsessed with money anyway?" She asks after a few minutes, when you're comfortably settled in the protective heat of her chest. "We got by just fine on Giles' meager offerings."

"Well… this is actually the second dress, Henry bought me the first one but that was way too big for me now. Obviously."

"Oh?" She looks you up and down, "Have you lost weight?"

A quick glance down and your hand is unconsciously rubbing the flat path between your hipbones. Stupid non-rounded stomach. Stupid-

Calm. Down.

"No. It was… just too big."

"Oh. You know, we could always head on up to Sherwood Forest and get some help from that 'robbin' from the rich' dude."

"That 'Robin from The Rich Dude' is actually more commonly known as 'Robin Hood'."

"Dude! I screwed Robin Hood!"

Shudder. "'Wood', Faith, 'Robin Wood'."

"Give me a break- I haven't slept in a week!"

There's a companionable silence for once, the type where it actually feels nice to not be talking.

Her voice when she breaks it is much softer and it's all said with a calm smile, "So. You really think I could be a good parent?"

Hey, like she said, she isn't the one who's been lying to Rose. She doesn't mess up fifty times a day. She didn't walk out on a possible family just because she can't take the uncertainty anymore. She doesn't then walk out on yet another family because she is such a good liar that having to do it all day every day wouldn't even phase her!

Oh God, you've become your father. Except, you're not walking away from responsibility you're trying too hard to find the perfect life. You want so badly for Rose to be happy- for her childhood to be the kind that people call 'idyllic', not the kind where you look back and realise the smiles are all faked, that they were lying to you all along. Rosy's favourite saying is 'did you know…?'- said always with the same brightening of the eyes and quivering hands of an educational high. She is too precious to destroy.

"You're not all selfish and stupid like me so how could you not be?"

She slips a hand around your elbow to smooth out your clenched fist, "You're the best mother I've ever seen."

Out of yours, hers and… well, your Mom was nice at least. "You're sweet to say that."

"It's the truth." Faith's thin fingers- how are they daintier than yours?- gently guide your face back away from watching the brick wall. "Any other mom who's told her daughter's gonna be tiny would be all 'why me?!'. But you said 'why her?'- that's the difference."

You did? "I did?"

"Yeah, you held my hand and tried to figure out what the hell the damn Scottish doctor was saying and you asked what you could do for her." April 2008. Worst night of your life.

"I'm… amazed you remember that."

She shrugs like it's natural, "I remember everything about you. And my baby. Even if I'm not… here, I'm still… watching. I promise."

"You're always in there?"

"I… I guess I'm wherever you are."

There's something about that- the image of pure 'Faith' floating above you while her body walks around, crazy and loud and angry- that makes you smile. "Aw, that's sweet… and corny. Will you hate me if I admit I like that corny much better than the cheap, chipped necklace which is, to be honest, making my hands smell really bad?"

It's slipped from your hands and put back in her pocket. "I'd be offended but the other day I wrapped it round my finger for about an hour and it turned green. Still kinda love it though."

"I'm sorry for the general crumminess of my gifting."

"I gave you rotten bananas. We're even."

She is turned more towards the street and you're facing the front door (which, you're pretty sure, is 'British Racing Green'), so when she frowns over your shoulder you make the conscious decision not to turn.

"Uh… B?" She motions behind you.

Henry stands in the rain, his arms crossed and a strange calm upon him. "I've changed my mind."

"What?" You ask as one.

"I've changed my mind, you can't have her."

Faith snorts, "Not really your decision."

"I don't belong to you." But Faith's hand is still in yours so you let it go and hope she doesn't notice.

"Actually, as of-" he checks his watch, "Five hours ago, you do."

Wow. "I…" The deceptive diamond sparkles on your finger, "Didn't realise you were such a chauvinist. It's unattractive."

He shakes his head, "No, I'm just looking after you. You're my wife and that's what I'm meant to do."
"You can't stop me loving her!"

Faith beams out a huge smile and fails to cover it with a cough when you glare at her. "What? Hearing that never gets old. Makes me feel all gooey inside."

You try to ignore how every time Belle kisses The Beast it also makes Faith feel 'gooey inside'. "You big girl."
"I'm not going to even try stopping your love for her- as apparently that's the real foundation my marriage is based upon- but I am going to refuse the termination of our marriage until she can prove she deserves you."
Faith shoots out to attack him but you grab the back of her top and haul her down to the step. "Don't you dare talk about her like-!"

"Satsu told me everything!" He roars at you and it's so very unlike him you shrink back to the step yourself. Finally, he steps out of the rain and glares at you both like a strict head teacher. "She spent the last half hour…"

His eyes sear into your wrist, even as you cover it with your right hand. "Oh."

"I didn't mean…" Faith whispers, almost to herself, "I'd never… not if I could…"

Your first instinct is to wrap your arms around her and tell her it's alright. So you do. She seems just as surprised as you. Henry only nods. "You told me she was 'difficult'- you didn't say she was 'dangerous'! Everything you said… you left out the important parts. Well, Satsu filled them in for me." You hide your face away from them both. "She told me how you've known each other for thirteen years now and how, despite life seeming destined to keep you apart, you always find your way back to each other."

"Yeah." Faith chuckles, a sweetly self-deprecating sound. "Even when we don't really want to."

"I want to." You run your fingers over the old scars on her wrists- the ones from prison, the steel rope that held her down as she screamed for you.

Her eyes study yours, as if she can't tell just from your voice what you mean. Though she knows you so well by now she can probably predict your thoughts before you have them. "Mm, me too."

Henry coughs, "Faith? I think… that is, I'm willing to let you have the girls back," You sigh out your displeasure- so not a commodity, "On one condition."

He passes her a card. A business card. A card for your private doctors' surgery.

"Oh." You try not to get your hopes up. "Oh?"

"I won't give my girls back until you can prove you deserve them." You should feel affronted but she doesn't seem to mind, "You don't have to take medication or shock therapy or- to be honest, I don't really know what they do for this kind of… You just have to prove you're trying."

"Right." Faith studies the card almost absently.

He waits for her to snap out of it and either punch him or (possibly) you. It's hard not to smirk as he widens his stance- like a better footing is actually going to protect him from a slayer's power!

"Um… I…" She frowns and half-smiles in an 'oh so ironic' kind of way, "Don't really know what to say."
"How about 'thank you'?" The mother in you automatically responds. "Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean…"

"S'ok, B."

She's still staring intensely through the card so you shrug at Henry and try to tell him your appreciation through your look. "Is there a time frame?"

"Oh." He blushes, seeming suddenly guilty- as if a plan thought up on the spot shouldn't really be vocalised until all the points have been worked out. "Uh, no. Sorry. I guess this isn't the type of thing that has a… time frame."

"That's alright."

Faith scratches away at her left arm compulsively and then looks sickeningly guilty as soon as Henry notices. "I'm not- I don't- I'm not always…"

You take her hand. "He knows." And at least you got her to stop biting her nails when upset.

"Just show me you're willing." Henry speaks to her profile while you hold her eyes and try to beg her to make you fall in love with her again.

"Faith?"

"Ok."

"What?" She seems so open to this, so utterly unconcerned, you frown. "I've been trying to get you to see a doctor for three years. Kennedy's been trying for longer."

"Yeah, but, I didn't have a proper reason before." 'How about not hitting me?'

"Really? It's that simple? All it took was Henry asking you?" Why not? It's not as if she doesn't have a pattern; when something goes wrong Faith looks for help with the closest available strong male and turns you into the Wicked Witch of the West.

"He has something I want. And…" She pauses to smile, "I can't promise that tomorrow I'm going to remember this- or if I do remember it, that I won't hate either of you for it… but I'll try."

The corners of Henry's mouth pull up slightly, "That's all I ask. I don't suppose you could take Be- Buffy, back to the house, could you? I… I think I have a lot of explaining to do. My mother is probably going to be quite pleased she was right."

"No," Faith shakes her head stubbornly, "She was secretly hoping the two of you would make it work."

You snort, "Good to know. A little late but still…" Henry gives you a look only a best friend would understand and the two of you giggle like children. Charlotte is so going to be pissed. "What about after your dismembering?"

He shrugs nobly, "A Hotel. My father probably has enough of them in the city to house me and my… 'members', separately."

Ha ha; 'member'!

"Dude, even I didn't laugh at that one."

Henry coughs politely and pretends to look away as you both prod and jostle each other. "I'll give you the keys to one of the cars, Faith. Just show the Car Chap your European Driving Licence and-"

"I don't have a driver's licence, Henry, I'm an escaped convict."

He laughs. Then realises she isn't. "Oh. Bugger. Well… well done, I suppose, on the… the breaking…" He casts a marginally desperate look your way, "out?"

"Thanks. Kinda easy. Prison security is for shit."

She smirks as he tries to work out that sentence. "I'm never going to truly understand American, am I?"
You stand to lay a soothing hand on his arm.

"It's alright darling, I don't understand you most of the time."

"It would have been a good marriage." He grins.

"The best."

There's a sigh, a smile and a shrug. In the manliest of ways. "Alright, I'll go… book you a taxi."

"Sure." That's- hey! "Wait, hold on! I do have a driving licence!"

"But I don't own the car. My father does and I've already had to face him to explain the three you've-"

"Lost." You prompt. Just because they ended up wrapped around lampposts doesn't mean they're still with you. And the car guys in the big truck took them away each time so really, 'lost' is a rather accurate description.

"Sure." He parrots back, sounding suspiciously like the aforementioned 'car guys'- in the bits they weren't laughing their asses off anyway.

"I hate you."

Henry winks at Faith, as if to be polite, as if to say; 'shucks, your wife is crazy'. Except, he wouldn't say 'shucks'. Aside from that it's quite accurate. "You love me."

"Like a fat kid loves cake."

"Ugh." Faith groans, "Please don't tell me you guys bond over 50cent songs, it really screws up my world view."

His eyes twinkle at her but in a slightly restrained way. "We wouldn't want that."

You stand, to say goodbye as he turns to leave, but the whole process becomes a little strange- kiss, hug, awkward handshake? In the end Faith settles it, with an obnoxiously loud; "Dude, you're not divorced yet- make the fuck out while you still can!"

You settle for a chaste peck on the cheek. He nods, looking a little like a Roman god who just realised he's naked, and makes a hasty retreat. "So handsome…" Your captive (but slightly more concerned with scraping out the inside of a mille feuille with a mini chocolate tart than listening to you) audience snorts. "On the plus side; I now don't have to get on the stupid plane to go on my honeymoon!"

"Still not over the plane thing?"

"I got over my fear of submarines! Give me a little credit here!" Though that was mainly because you've survived drowning- you've never lived through a huge metal box you're contained in falling from the sky into the side of a mountain!

She chuckles naughtily and, shoving the mix of pastry, cream and chocolate and strawberry jam into her mouth, pulls you down to sit on her lap, huge skirts spilling over either side.

"Faith!"

"What? I was cold."

Her unnaturally warm arms wrap around your corseted waist, hands sneaking under your silk bolero top to cover your chilly shoulder blades. "And the touching?"

A shrug, "I was cold."

Against your better judgement you ignore the drizzling rain, the dark night and the flickering streetlight above you. To the back of your mind are sent the 'why's the 'how's and the 'what the hell do you think you're doing's. You let her rest her forehead against yours.

Wind whips down the street, passers-by chatter and Faith's breath plays against your sensitive skin.
"H!" A random kid calls in the distance.

You lean in closer, so near to those lovely lips… "Yeah?!" Faith replies out to the night. Which is weird. How would you get 'H' out of 'Faith Leh-' oh, you just got it; 'Hope'.

"I'm on curfew!"

Ew. "Please don't tell me you brought a teenager as your date to my wedding?"

"Uh, actually, I'm the one setting that curfew."

Say what? "Because you're parenting someone else's children now?"

"Allegra is my Apprentice Slayer," You snort (because really where does she get this stuff from?), "Did you not get the memo? Well, Willow-length memo- someone really has to talk to her about the appropriate length for official documents…"

"Is it weird that out of the two of us you're the one who always reads the handbook?" And has a proper adult job?

"Dude, I bought you like… three new copies of the damn handbook- you're just a lazy ass."

You ignore that along with the hands tracing patterns on your back. "I know a girl called Allegra. She's six, red hair, picks her nose."

"Different girl; fifteen, black hair, hates the world."

"Aw, déjà vu."

"Fuck you."

The smile becomes infectious until you're grinning along with her.

"I almost forgot how sexy that little grin is… you should let it out more."

She leans in to complete the kiss but rationality unfortunately overcomes you. "Faith, no. No kissing." Her eyes flick pointedly down to where your hands are refamiliarising themselves with her chest. "What? I'm cold."

"Right…"

"I just… I need to be single, I need to… I need…" Faith. Your Faith. "It doesn't matter. I just need to be alone for a while."

She nods and, for once, understands. "So I'm still 'aunt'?"

"For the time being."

"I'm a hot aunt."

You chuckle and lay your head down against her shoulder, your breath being the tease this time. "Hottest ever."

The tiny hairs on her neck raise and you giggle as she shivers. "This feels like a moment where we should make out."

"Still legally married."

"Still legally hot."

"Shut up Faith."

You sit in a companionable hug for a few moments before she turns to look at you. "B?"

"Yeah?"

"Who the fuck gets married in the middle of a monsoon?"

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