Disclaimer: I own nothing associated with the Buffyverse. Sadly.
A/N: This one-shot is the follow-up to the second chapter of "Things Fall Apart". Just FYI.
Faith Lehane lay sprawled across her bed, thinking longingly of her dagger. If only she hadn't left it behind in the high school cafeteria! Sometimes life really sucked. She'd been out of action for the last week and a half. The Mayor was in the middle of some big pre-Ascension preparation ritual, and he wasn't going to need her for a couple of days. Before he'd gone all seclusional, he had reminded her that it was prom weekend. Why didn't she find some nice young man and go dancing? Not any of the ones who worked for him, of course – they were far too crude for his Faith. Someone nice and handsome and good who'd bring her home by ten-thirty.
Then, as now, Faith snorted with a kind of derision. Who was there in Sunnyhell to go dancing with? Every guy she knew either worked for the Mayor, or wasn't human, or wanted her dead. Or some twisted combination of the other three. And besides, where did the Mayor get off painting her as this sweet, innocent girl? Faith hadn't been innocent since she was five – and that was being generous.
The brunette rolled onto her back and stared up at her ceiling. Why had her boss brought up the prom? Seriously? She hadn't been thinking about it at all. And now she was filled with this ridiculous longing to go. To grab a nice guy and dance. Not the kind of sleaze ball she generally picked up at the Bronze, someone real. If only . . .
Stop it, she told herself firmly. If wishes were horses, we'd have won the freakin' Kentucky Derby six times over by now. So just stop it.
Someone knocked twice on her door loudly, interrupting what was quickly turning into a self-pity party. Faith jumped to her feet. She checked her boot for her favorite stake and grabbed her second-best knife off the dresser. When she reached the front door, the ex-Slayer stood on tiptoe to gaze through the peephole. She'd learned her lesson since the last time. Hardly believing what she saw, Faith hurriedly undid all the locks and jerked the front door open.
"You came." Her voice was annoyingly breathless. What was she trying to be, a damsel in distress?
"I promised I would." Exhausted and upset, Angel stepped past her into the apartment. "You might want to shut the door," he added quietly.
Faith leaned her hip against the door and shoved it to. She redid the locks, just in case. "I didn't believe you."
"I know. Where's the Mayor?"
She bristled instantly. "Is that what you came for? Then you can get out of my house and go to Hell."
"Been there, done that. Didn't really feel like getting a t-shirt, sorry. Calm down, Faith. I just wanted to know if you were expecting visitors, 'cause if so, I'm going to go ahead and plan my escape routes." He managed something that almost resembled a smile.
The rogue Slayer nearly grinned in turn. "No need. I'm off the hook. Supposed to go and enjoy myself tonight. Want a beer?"
Angel sat down on her couch, still looking tense. "You almost killed Willow."
Faith's face crumpled. D-mn. Did he really have to bring that up? She guessed so, but still…
"But you saved Wesley," he continued. Faith wished he'd get to the point. "So I'm wondering... what was going on in your head?"
"Can we not talk about this?" She started pacing, her fingers clenched around her stake. "I've heard it all a million times. I'm ruined, I blew it, I made my choice, I got nothing. Red's already spewed all that crap. And you think I'm going to take it from you? Forget it. You're wrong, Red's wrong, you're all wrong! I've got somebody. I've got the Mayor."
"You've got me."
"'Yeah, what can I say? I like 'em sane,'" Faith quoted, failing to completely mask the pain in her eyes. "Thanks, Angel, but no. I don't need you – I don't want you. I've got him, and that's good enough for me. So leave. Just leave. Go back to your perfect world and your sane girlfriend." She couldn't bring herself to say the name. "Get out."
The vampire didn't move from his seat. He watched the irate girl pace and collected his thoughts. "Faith . . ."
Her voice was nearly hoarse with venom. "Don't bother."
Angel tensed his hand into a fist. He wanted to hit her, knock some sense into that thick skull. Couldn't she see what was happening? Didn't she realize what she was doing? No, maybe not. Someday she might, but for now Faith was too far down that road, too lost in the darkness, to have any sense of perspective. Angel knew that; he could even understand that. So why couldn't he just let her go?
"Does the Mayor know about my earlier visit?"
Faith stopped pacing just long enough to send him an are-you-stupid glare. "Of course not."
"So he still thinks you hate me?"
"I do hate you."
"Then why did you let me in?"
"I guess I was feeling in the mood for a little torture. What'll it be, Angel? Chains, knives, a lighter? Or just a quick blow to the heart? Oh, that's right. You'd rather go for the neck."
Heart? You have a heart? It isn't even beating.
Buffy's voice sounded so clearly in Angel's head that he almost jumped.
"Angel? You on something?"
Funny how when she was worried about him everything changed. Her tone, her body language, her entire demeanor expressed concern. Suddenly Angel found himself talking fast, explaining more that he'd ever wanted to. Buffy asking him to prom, the Mayor's and Joyce's words sinking in, and finally the whole nasty breakup that afternoon. Faith listened, her scowl getting darker and darker until he finished.
"Why did you tell me all that?" she asked flatly. "To gloat? Get your kicks and giggles in for the day?"
"Because I can't get it all straightened out in my head, all right? I just can't. I had to talk to somebody," he added bitterly.
"So you pick me? I'm not even on your team, Angel. I'm hoping you lot get blown sky high come Ascension day!"
If they kept on like this, Angel knew it would end badly. Sooner or later, one of them would say something that they could never take back, and the fragile truce between them would be broken. He couldn't deal with that. Not tonight. "Can't we just leave? Get out of Sunnydale for a few hours? Pretend all of this – " he gestured with his hands to indicate the entire awful situation they were in – "doesn't exist?"
"And go where?" Faith didn't bother denying that it sounded tempting.
"Somewhere, anywhere, just not here."
"And tomorrow?"
Angel sighed. "Back to normal. We can be friends, enemies, whatever you want. It's your choice, Faith."
Faith wanted to say that if it was her choice, then she wanted to go dancing – hey, maybe even skip this whole shebang tonight and crash the prom tomorrow. But girls like Faith don't get what they want, and she figured tomorrow would find Angel showing up at prom for B anyway. He was that kind of guy.
"Let's go." Pretending to be someone else sounded great at the moment, even if only for the night. "The Mayor left me a car in the basement parking lot. Meet me there in five?"
"I'll wait." He wasn't willing to take any chances.
"Okay." Feeling oddly off balance, Faith grabbed her keys and gave herself a onceover in the bathroom mirror: leather boots, dark jeans, emerald top, tattoo barely showing, eyes smoky with eye shadow, but not too much. She had a couple of stakes, a knife, and a tube of red lipstick in her left boot. That should prepare her for anything.
They left the apartment and snuck down to the basement. Angel hid in the backseat of the dark convertible while Faith pulled out, nodding to the security guard as they passed. When they reached the expressway, he clambered forward into shotgun.
"Where to?" Faith queried. The wind was whipping her hair loose from its ponytail, but she was leaving Sunnydale, and that was all she wanted.
"Anywhere!" Angel had to yell to be heard over the wind.
Faith grinned at the vampire and pressed down on the accelerator. For one glorious moment – and she wasn't going to worry about how long or short that moment might be – she was free of the burden of who she was and what she'd done. And Faith Lehane planned on enjoying every second of that moment.
Fin.
A/N: Review?