Chapter Twelve: Graveyard Lollypops
April 2003
Oh. Dear. God.
How is it even possible for someone to be that attractive?!
There should be a law against other people being able to see this. She should only be legal in your own special land, population; 2.
And yes, you should probably be saving Spike’s face right now but her jacket is riding up and… the world isn’t going to judge you for staring at her ass just a little bit longer. After all, you’ve beaten him up enough times as it is. You’ve even smacked him around a few times since he… got a… soul… ok, guilty now.
There you were, happily chasing down a vamp on yet another patrol with the guy who makes your insides go kind of gooey in both a bad way and a good and then bam! Spike’s in a tombstone and Faith’s shouting in his face. You’re still a little too far away to know what they’re saying but she’s getting in his space and showing off while punching him.
He’s talking back which is never smart. Then suddenly it’s his fist in her face and your muscles tighten ready to attack. “We’re on the same side!”
“Please.” She snorts, “You think I’m stupid?”
No comment.
“Well, yeah.” Bad move on his part, her fingers are itching for a stake. You move forward to stop them- after all, you have a war on your hands and he’s still a better fighter than a slayer who’s been letting her muscles waste away.
“You were attacking that girl!”
As he grins she punches him again and in some way your conscience. Your fist streaks out slamming into her face, she goes down hard. It’s such an automatic response it makes you smirk- still in ‘that place’ are we?
You arch an eyebrow at her fallen form, “Oops. Sorry, Faith. I didn’t realise that was you.”
Faith pops back up, holding in what looks to be a smile at your innocent tone. “It’s alright, B.” she rubs her jaw, “Luckily you still punch like you used to.”
Cheek! You’ve given her bruises darker than- bigger than- you’ve… there’ve been bruises! And now here she is bruising your guy! Even when he wasn’t in love with you he still respected your general awesomeness. He’s nursing his now freshly bruised ego off to the side. “You ok?”
His eyes flit between the two of you. There’s an uncertain look in them… half turned on by just the idea of you together and half jealous that she’s back. You really need a better person to confide secrets in than Spike.
“Yeah.” He grunts, “Terrific.”
It suddenly dawns on Faith that you’re not just hitting her for no reason. “Are you protecting vampires? Are you the bad slayer now?” You try not to grin at the childish glee in her eyes, “Am I the good slayer now?”
‘Good Slayer’ is most definitely pushing it- ‘marginally reformed when she chooses to be’ more like. For someone who had such trouble leaving the comfort of prison she sure broke out quickly when Angel needed her. Speaking of which…
“He’s with me. He has a soul.”
“Oh, he’s like Angel?”
Spike gasps, “No!”
You shrug, “Sort of.”
She sneers. “Ha…”
There has to be some kind of a complicated back-story concerning Spike, Angel and a… actually, there doesn’t even have to be a woman… maybe just… vampires… sexy… naked… huh.
“I am nothing like Angel!”
It might sound awful but you probably wouldn’t like him if he was any less like Angel; both vampires, both good fighters, both handsome, both souled, both…
Well, he’s blonde. You’ve never slept with a blonde before. So he can at least hang on that and feel special.
… Though, the sun did sometimes give Riley- ok, not important.
“He fights on my side. Which is more than I can say for some of us.” You l…ike her but my god she’s a fruitcake.
“Yeah, well if he’s so good, what’s he doing chasing down defenceless- umpf!” The forgotten vampire knocks her back down to the ground.
Fortunately your very unladylike snort is covered by the sound of fighting. You point to Faith’s rather blatant mistake, “That’s one of the bad guys.” Are you so in her brain now that she’ll fiercely fight for any young blonde girl? Because that’s- that’s kind of sweet.
She scowls as the vamp grabs her hair, “You should make ‘em wear a sign!” Oh sure because you have so much power over the entire Sunnydale area and all the vampires in it that you can control their every move!
That is so Faith! Her belief that you control absolutely everything in life is so damn ingrained in her that she probably curses in your name when she stubs her toe! She probably even-
“May I? Thanks.” Oh! Ok. There’s thigh touching. Nice. Granted, it’s just to steal a stake but it’s been a while so you’ll take what you can get.
Spike is still sulking as he watches Faith stake the vampire. “Angel’s dull as a table lamp.” You roll you eyes, “And we have very different colouring.”
Your girl tips her head to the side staring oddly at him, “Ok, catching up. Anything else I gotta know?” She quirks an eyebrow at you; ‘gay?’
You almost shake your head then check back to Spike, ‘ok, maybe mildly fruity’. “Nice to have you back.”
She offers her hand and you uncross your arms to take it. A quick tug and you’re wrapped up in her for the first time since… since a really long time ago. You wanted so badly to hold her when she came out of that coma, so bad it hurt. All you could think about was her touch, of skin vibrant with life rather than deep asleep. And here you are, face deep in chocolaty curls.
“Nice to be back.” She chuckles and the deep thrum of vibration sinks so deep into you it almost makes you moan.
Her blunt teeth nip the top of your ear. You giggle and the man-vampire behind you growls slightly.
“Buffy? We said we’d be back half an hour ago.” His grumble has a dangerous edge to it; something that you know Faith will take as a challenge.
The skin of her neck goosebumps against your lips as her body automatically readies itself for battle. Your eyes search hers as you pull away, forcing her to drag her own from Spike’s figure. “Let’s go home then.”
She takes your words as you meant them, a radiant smile washing across her face. Sadly she then looses points by smirking at Spike like a child who got the last cookie. “Oh, Willow said I have to tell you there’s an STI in the hospital.”
Spike snorts in laughter; the cigarette he was trying to light goes flying. “STI? Daft bint.”
“I don’t know what that means but it sounds offensive, watch as I kick your ass!”
You grab her arm. “You mean, ‘SIT’; Slayer-In-Training. Or… potentials. It’s what we’re calling all the girls next in line.”
“Next in line to me, you mean. Bet they’re all just waiting for me to get iced…” She glares at Spike, “Why’s he laughing?”
“STI.” Spike repeats, dangerously near to slapping his thigh. “STI!”
“Wha-?”
“SITs are what we train, STIs are what you have.” He laughs harder.
“Oh.” She runs it through in her head. Faith is just as dyslexic as Xander in that if you want to exclude them from a conversation all you have to do is spell stuff out- acronyms aren’t her strong point. “Hey… hey! I just got that you little-!”
You glower at the two of them “Shut up! Both of you.”
They fight the whole way back to the house- silently of course. Spike’s hand on your back, Faith’s shoulder on yours sending tingles down your spine, Spike taking your arm, Faith sneaking her finger into your belt loops, Spike slinging his arm around your shoulder… It takes a full half hour just to get to the street leading to your road. By that time you’re about ready to burst from the hostile fallout of passive aggression. You drop back, glaring as they don’t even notice. Their matching sinister gazes creep you out- not exactly the type of people you want to meet in a dark alley.
Though to you Faith always seemed so young, the little sister you- the little… it’s odd, the way your memories seem to have this underlying film of a half-remembered dream. Sometimes when you remember the night of your first kiss you come home to see Dawn waiting on the stairs, like a ghost, in a long white nightdress, sometimes the stairs are empty and you don’t even pause to look at them.
You remember Faith sitting on your bed flicking through your diary and laughing over your angry rants about your ‘newest little sister’ and wasn’t it a good thing you’re an only child but then she turns the page and she’s laughing about one of Dawn’s escapades.
It’s the kind of thing you never notice unless you’re looking for it- a gap in your memory.
Although, some memories it would probably be nice to forget… You’ll never quite get over Faith holding your mother (the one woman who kept believing in her even when you’d given up) hostage or the sight of a man dying before you, not by supernatural or human hands but by slayer… and about ninety-five percent of your memories involving Spike could quite happily be dropped off the edge of the world.
Faith falls back, noticing the dark shadow across your face. “You ok?” Her fingers glide across the back of your hand and then across your palm until your fingers are laced together and there’s a warm bubble of heat connecting you. She leans across to whisper in your ear, her hot breath spreading and tickling your skin deliciously. “I have something for you.”
A lollypop is suddenly in front of you, Faith’s fingers delicately holding the stem. Streetlights catch on the yellow twisted plastic, like a disco ball it disperses the light, little patches of gold coasting across her face- already alight with a mischievous sparkle. “Lemon. You remembered.”
“Of course!” She grins as you take it from her, “Lemon for you, Orange for me… because you’re bitter.” You smack your shoulder into her and she giggles even as she slips off the sidewalk and into the road. “Ow!”
“Aw, poor baby.” You make cooing noises around your lollypop, “Thanks for the candy.”
Faith unwraps hers and gives it a cursory searching look before popping it into her mouth. “Orange Good.”
“Fire Bad.”
“Huh?”
You blush, “Oh right, you weren’t here for… never mind. There was beer, bad beer and… Cave Buffy.” Too many one-sided conversations to remember which of them she was actually conscious for.
“You never were good with alcohol.” Which of course you only know thanks to Faith. Damn her. Damn her lots. Damn her with possible cherries on top.
Still… kind of fun to be drunk with Faith.
Plus yummy drunken Faith kisses!
“No, actual Cave Buffy. The literal regressed, grunting, smacking stuff with big logs kind of cave girl.”
“Fair enough.”
See now, why can’t all your friends be like that? Everyone should be that accepting. Spike turns round to glare forlornly at the two of you, and your joined hands specifically. His confused frown tells you that he doesn’t quite understand what’s going on between the two of you but then you know from experience that the physical stuff can get a little… murky…
Huh, Faith and Angel hugging on a bed being a good case in point. God, you’d been so angry, so bloodboilingly furious to see them… touching… each other. Your Angel and your Faith!
Not that you’re a crazy possessive loon or anything.
Much.
Faith’s breath becomes short and jittery as you approach the house. “Uh… B? I…”
You squeeze her hand comfortingly flicking your lollystick into the bushes and then taking hers and doing the same. “It’s ok, I’m right here with you.” Like a firefly with it’s light just blown out your mere breath seems to stoke her flame back up. A soft glow settles over her face and she takes a deep breath, drawing in her courage.
Spike rolls his eyes and grabs the door handle, still moping like a puppy left out in the rain. It’s so wrong when everyone says you have a thing for the bad guys- they’re all big softies at heart! In fact, you might try going up to the First and offering open arms for ‘a bit of a chat’. Who knows, it might work. Or you’ll die. Which is pretty much going to happen anyway.
“Whoa.” Faith spins like a small child in a candy shop, looking round the house. “Memory Lane. Same old house.”
If only. “Yeah, well, every piece of furniture been destroyed and replaced since you left, so, actually, new house.”
She makes and an impressed little ‘oh’ with her mouth. You smile indulgently to see her look with such reverence at that which to you is just commonplace.
“Buffy?” Dawn snipes from where she stands in the dinning room, her arms tightly crossed like a barrier. She’s angry, furious in that simmering way she has, never quite rude or shouting but always just on the edge. As a child Faith was both something you stole away and a nightmarish figure that she never wanted returned. Now she’s older and though her fear has cooled the resentment still remains.
You give her a placating look, “We have a new house guest.”
“Hey, got a spare bed for a wanted fugitive?” Faith undoes your good work and you glare at her next to you.
To the side of Dawn, Giles eyes your other half coolly, nodding in that judgemental way of his. “Hello, Faith.”
“Well, I guess ‘wanted’ wasn’t really accurate.” Though her smile never falters you see the light behind Faith’s smile dim once more.
Damn them both!
“Does she have to stay here?” Dawn bites once again. Spike sends Faith a sympathetic look from the stairs, warming to her as he finds an ally. “Because there’s some nice motels that welcome tried-to-kill-your-sister types.”
You want to smack Dawn but Faith is a big girl and she really doesn’t need you to fight her battles. You know she won’t take kindly to your defence of her either- she likes the world to think she’s hard and cruel and a street-wise bitch. Not that she isn’t! There’s just a lot more in her as well.
It’s odd how of the things you and Angel have in common around fifty percent are made up by Faith. You’ve both seen her cry for one thing.
God, after all these years it still rips at your heart that she froze the first time you hugged her (saved you a seat), held her hand (crowded room) or kissed her cheek (stole an entire tray of tiny pots of Jell-O from the cafeteria for you), her only excuse being ‘it’s been a while’. It even got to the stage where you were almost frightened to do anything affectionate towards her lest you waste these apparent ‘firsts’ on something menial.
Those memories hold a special place in your heart that not even the grave could rip from you but more precious still are the times when you did nothing and it was all her; the time she impulsively hugged you for renting her favourite movie and then looked about as shocked as you or when Xander accidentally let off a firework in the library (thus volunteering himself for many evenings of card cataloguing) and she grabbed your hand to make sure you were ok… best of all you love the first time she kissed you. It was just a little peck on the cheek, barely a second long, and weeks before you progressed to the full on make out sessions.
You’d given her a necklace for Christmas, grabbed it from the back of your jewellery box and decided it would have to do- the chain was only silver plated and had little glass beads in every so often so you’d figured it was sparkly enough for her.
As soon as you opened the door to her pretty blush and meticulously wrapped newspaper parcels you’d regretted it. You’d even rushed upstairs with the intention of hunting for something else to find, something nicer. But then there’d been Angel and the First (bastard) and you’d been too busy to think about it until you got back later that night. Faith and your mother were cuddled up on the sofa watching a soppy Christmas movie, looking at baby pictures of you and getting drunk on eggnog simultaneously. Well, your mother was, Faith was probably just humouring her. The presents were handed round before you had time to make a grab and switch.
It turned out to be just right though because nestled in between two glittery beads was a tiny silver ‘B’.
The perfect gift.
She kissed you before you even had time to think about how hideously soppy that gesture would have been had you intended it. The place her lips touched turned a bright red and not from her lipstick. Your mother smiled knowingly and Faith’s eyes welled up slightly before she brushed it off and told your mother the rudest Christmas story you’ve ever heard involving… well, Santa, elves and things that really shouldn’t happen to a Christmas tree, even if it is ludicrously funny.
So yes, you have a lot of things to be mad at Dawn for, even though none of that had anything to do with her- ‘spending the holidays with the father’ according to the monks, who apparently had the good sense to leave some of your more important memories intact. You can, however, be mad at her for making it harder to get back to that happy place.
Faith smiles with a slight punishing leer “Check it out. Brat’s all woman-sized.”
Who that’s meant to be punishing you’re not entirely sure but Dawn shifts uneasily so that’s perhaps the point.
You try to clear your throat but seeing as there’s nothing in it aside from the intangible awkwardness thickening the air it doesn’t really work. “Look, I need to get to the hospital. Some girl was attacked on her way into town. We think she might be a-”
“We know.” Dawn cuts you off, “Willow’s been calling.”
“She’s still there. She’s going to call if the girl wakes up.” You glare at Giles and he stares blandly back at you until you have to blink and loose the staring competition.
“Fine.”
You storm out; leaving Faith to Spike and Dawn to Giles- he obviously likes her better anyway.
Stupid unfair life! The three of you should be living in an island paradise in… uh… somewhere…
Hey, was that almost a fantasy? Cool! The healing powers of Faith’s touch.
Wonder what’ll happen if you make out with her?
