Buffy Summers went from full, flat-out sleep or "Z-mode" to full, flat-out slayer mode in the time that it takes most people to breathe. Once.
Even tangled in her blankets and bedspread, she was more than capable of dealing with any earthly or unearthly threat. Mr. Pointy was in her right fist, cocked behind her ear, legs coiled beneath her.
That is, she was capable of dealing with any threat that wasn't Faith.
Yes, it was Faith, Buffy decided even after blinking hard two or three times, hoping against hope that it wasn't her.
"Hey, B. I wondered how long it'd be before that ol', what do you and the Scoobies always call it? 'Spidey sense' of yours kicked in and you decided to wake up and say 'hi,'" the dark-haired Slayer spoke first from the shadows checkering the desk area of the small dorm room. There was no mistaking that smoky voice, Buffy decided but noted some lack of the usual snottiness.
"Hey. And I'm wondering if this is really some kind of new, social experiment involving letting murdering sociopaths out of prison in the middle of the night to visit someone who truly hates them? If it is, it's a way bad idea," Buffy hissed back.
By way of answer, Faith snapped on the desk light. In one lithe motion, she turned to the enraged Slayer.
Turning her palms out, she motioned under her waist-length black leather jacket that she was unarmed.
Still holding her hands up, she turned once. "See, that's why I'm here, B. Among all of the things I've hopelessly fucked up in my short, pointless life, earning your hatred has eaten at me the most," Faith said, wiping her palms over the sleek derriere of her equally black leather pants as if removing something truly revolting.
"Oh? So now we're supposed to make like big-sister-had-tiff-with-little-sister? Well, forget it, Faith. I have a little sister. Confession may be good ya-de-ya-de-ya-da but you don't have a soul and, even if you did, you've used up all of your chances with me and the rest of the world. Long ago."
"Yeah. I know. And you're right. That's the whole point," Faith said, pulling at her lower lip with her teeth before continuing, "But I've had a lot of time. See, that's one thing prison movies never get right. There's just all this time. Just all of that damned time for you to think about people. People you did things to. People you didn't do things to. People that you never meant to hurt but just went ahead and did anyway."
Buffy noticed for the first time how pale the other Slayer appeared, making her large brown eyes all the more noticeable. Prison alone couldn't account for all of the paleness. Even the usually lustrous hair seemed lank and lifeless.
"Yeah, I've seen some of the people you 'did,' Faith. Not a pretty sight," Buffy said.
"B. Please. Listen to me. Once more, even if it's the last time. Just cut me that tiny bit of slack from the place where you find it possible to forgive everyone. Like Riley. Even Angel," her voice trailed off into a near-whisper, "Even me." Faith's hands came closer together, as if in supplication.
When Buffy started to speak, Faith threw her hands in front of her face is warding off a blow. "No. You see, Buffy, after all of this time, I have finally re-learned what it is like to feel guilty, to truly feel sorry. Something I haven't felt since I was a very little girl. I first felt it in that damned cold boxcar when I ran away from Sunnydale. I felt it again riding alone in that miserable bus when I came back to California. And when Angel refused to kill me, believed in me, refused to give up on me even after I'd given up on myself, I felt it.
"But I didn't really understand what it was that I was feeling until I wallowed in it in that cold, cruddy cell."
The complete bleakness of Faith's face and voice crashed into Buffy's resolve to kick the stuffing out of Faith before returning her to custody. Faith seemed to dissolve from a swaggering, self-possessed, vicious bitch to a young, scared woman summoned into a life and calling not of her own making. There was an authentic ring in the words, she decided, and lowered Mr. Pointy.
Encouraged by the Slayer's lesser defenses, Faith took a step forward, "Thank you, B. Thank you. Just not killing me right now is worth the world to me. Honest. Although for quite a long while, there's nothing more I wanted than to be dead. To finally put an end to the meaningless crap my life had become. But now I think I can find some meaning, some peace."
The advance was met with a return of Mr. Pointy to the ready position. "Not so fast, Faith. Seems like I've heard this before."
The old Faith flashed out, "Right. Same old B. Same old judgments, same old rigid righteousness."
Then just as quickly, the anger faded. Faith continued, "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me during the past few months? To not kill Wesley? To not kill Cordelia? To not kill Angel? To beg Angel to kill me? I've never begged in my life. You know that, B."
"That part is true, Faith. Well, except maybe for the not killing Cordelia part. But what of it? In case you've managed to forget in the past few seconds, you're a convicted murderer who, as I recall the news, received several consecutive life sentences recently. How did you manage to escape the death penalty?"
Faith's shoulders slumped and her head dropped. Buffy had to lean forward to hear her murmur, "Yeah. Yeah. I know. But that seems so pointless, too. I mean, what good is it gonna do, locking me away forever?"
"Oh, I don't know, Faith. Call it society's twisted view of justice. Ya know, kill somebody, go to prison. Or maybe it's the justified fear of not having a maniac killer loose among us. And I see that prison has a new look. All black leather now. A lot more inconspicuous than those spiffy orange overalls you wore at the trial. And how did you acquire those new leathers? I didn't think that making license plates paid that well."
"Sarcasm. And we make shirts, not license plates. But thanks all the same, B."
"Think nothing of it, Faith. So how did you get out and how many widows did you create?"
"None, B, none," Faith said, shaking her head almost proudly, "And it's all women guards at the prison. I don't want to give you any details as that would make you an accessory. I used Slayer strength but not against any person."
"And the clothes?"
"Well, since I kinda decided to turn myself in on something of a spur of the moment thing, I didn't take time to dispose of all my stuff or close out all of my hiding places."
The silence hung between them, almost like a living thing.
"So why are you here, really, Faith? You must know that I can never really, fully forgive you. You've hurt me too often too deeply for that. And that's just for stealing my body and sleeping with Riley."
The curtain of silence slid back between them.
"I know that, B. I know that I can never really square things with anybody, especially with you. And it goes way beyond guilt. Like when I dusted that vamp behind the Bronze, the girl said 'thank you' and really meant it. Not cuz she was scared of me or wanted something from me, she really felt it.
"There's this, B. You're not going to believe this, either but it's true. I want someone to look at me and say 'I love you' the way Riley said it to me. You. Us. You know what I mean. For the first time in my life, I knew that here was someone who really meant what he said. He wasn't saying it just to get into my pants. Although he didn't have to try. So I got to thinking that maybe everything I'd learned all of my life wasn't right. Maybe people can do things because they're genuine and right. Not because they can get something out of the deal."
When Buffy didn't respond, Faith added, "But, see, I know now that I gotta try, to see for myself that there's something besides hurting before I get hurt. Try to make payback a little bit less of a bitch."
"So you want to be a little less of a bitch while doing this payback?" Buffy couldn't help herself. The opportunity to slash back at Faith was just too tempting.
Faith winced, "Yeah. That's it. Exactly. If I'm going to make things even a little bit right, I've got to start right now."
"So why don't you start by returning to prison right now so everyone sleeps a little bit better at night? Seems to me that'd be a making-things-rightie. Make everything five by five again."
Faith started to pace back and forth, jabbing her index finger in the air for emphasis, "But that's just it, B. If I just sit in prison, how is anyone gonna be any better off? I mean, it's only on the outside that I can truly change things. The real punishment is not sitting in some cell although that's been hard enough. You know that my cell is exactly four and a half paces long and two and a half paces wide? Those damned cells won't even let me take a real step," she said letting a bit of hysteria creep into her voice, "But no. The real punishment is to face the people I've hurt and try to compensate in some way.
"Ironic, isn't it? My body is imprisoned but my head and spirit aren't. And I'd still be running even in that damned prison cell. Running inside my head from all of the hurt and pain and anger that I've felt, that I've caused. I want to stop running, B. I want to stand and face it down."
"So Faith the Evildoer magically becomes Faith the Miracle Worker."
"Something like that."
They could both feel the curtain coming between them again.
"Don't shut me out, B. If there's anyone that I want to try to make things up to, it's you. For so long, I hated you. I hated you for being the Chosen and I was only the next one called when those bastards on the Council thought you were dead. Do you really know what it's like to be second best, second fiddle, always in your shadow? No. Skip that. There's no way you could know. But, hell, B, you're even blonde. The Light compared to my Dark. "
"And what makes me so special that I merit your focus?"
"Please, B. You've been right all along. You were the one to reach out, to be my friend. And, finally, after too long," she took a deep breath, "I want to. No, I need to tell you that I thank you for that. And I want to show you that it does matter. That I matter.
"For the longest time, I felt that I could only exist beneath you and that only by killing more, hurting more that I could have my own identity. I know now that's not the case."
"So do you have a plan?" Buffy said, finally dropping Mr. Pointy to her lap.
Faith dropped down to her knees at the edge of the bed and scooped up Buffy's hand, "Yes. Yes. I do. I want to be like Angel."
At the sound of that name, Buffy's face clouded over again. "No, hear me out, B. I can only guess about what happened between you and Angel but what he's doing up in L.A., it matters. He helps people every day. I can do the same thing."
"You can become a vampire?" Buffy said and felt the involuntary squeeze of the other Slayer's powerful hands on hers.
"I deserve that, B and every other nasty thing you can call me. And maybe I won't ever deserve more than that. But will you hear me out?"
"Just because I'll listen to you doesn't include any promises."
"Fair enough."
Faith rocked back on her heels and dragged her right hand through her hair to pull it off her face. "I know that I can never show my face in public again. Definitely a lifetime of microwave popcorn and old movies on the tube for a Friday night treat. The cops and the courts, they're never going to forget me," she stopped and favored Buffy with a lopsided, sardonic grin, "But even that's good in a weird, twisted kind of way.
"I can use that to my advantage. You know that my skills as a Slayer are at least equal to yours. But I have been in, and will go. places you'd never dream of going. Face it, B. You and the rest of the Scoobies are just too damned nice to really walk on the wild side."
"And if that's true?"
Faith re-captured Buffy's hands. "Think about it, B. We can truly be partners. Just like you thought we could be when I first got to Sunnydale. I will be happy to be the Dark to your Light. I know I will have to stay in the shadows forever while you are in the sunlight. And that'll be okay, too, as long as I can replace the pain and the anger with something else. Please, B."
Buffy yearned to believe Faith. Wanted to believe Faith.
"Maybe, Faith, maybe."
"That'll have to do," Faith said, beaming. "It's a start. You'll see, B. It'll all be five-by-five."
"Yeah. Five-by-five."
Even tangled in her blankets and bedspread, she was more than capable of dealing with any earthly or unearthly threat. Mr. Pointy was in her right fist, cocked behind her ear, legs coiled beneath her.
That is, she was capable of dealing with any threat that wasn't Faith.
Yes, it was Faith, Buffy decided even after blinking hard two or three times, hoping against hope that it wasn't her.
"Hey, B. I wondered how long it'd be before that ol', what do you and the Scoobies always call it? 'Spidey sense' of yours kicked in and you decided to wake up and say 'hi,'" the dark-haired Slayer spoke first from the shadows checkering the desk area of the small dorm room. There was no mistaking that smoky voice, Buffy decided but noted some lack of the usual snottiness.
"Hey. And I'm wondering if this is really some kind of new, social experiment involving letting murdering sociopaths out of prison in the middle of the night to visit someone who truly hates them? If it is, it's a way bad idea," Buffy hissed back.
By way of answer, Faith snapped on the desk light. In one lithe motion, she turned to the enraged Slayer.
Turning her palms out, she motioned under her waist-length black leather jacket that she was unarmed.
Still holding her hands up, she turned once. "See, that's why I'm here, B. Among all of the things I've hopelessly fucked up in my short, pointless life, earning your hatred has eaten at me the most," Faith said, wiping her palms over the sleek derriere of her equally black leather pants as if removing something truly revolting.
"Oh? So now we're supposed to make like big-sister-had-tiff-with-little-sister? Well, forget it, Faith. I have a little sister. Confession may be good ya-de-ya-de-ya-da but you don't have a soul and, even if you did, you've used up all of your chances with me and the rest of the world. Long ago."
"Yeah. I know. And you're right. That's the whole point," Faith said, pulling at her lower lip with her teeth before continuing, "But I've had a lot of time. See, that's one thing prison movies never get right. There's just all this time. Just all of that damned time for you to think about people. People you did things to. People you didn't do things to. People that you never meant to hurt but just went ahead and did anyway."
Buffy noticed for the first time how pale the other Slayer appeared, making her large brown eyes all the more noticeable. Prison alone couldn't account for all of the paleness. Even the usually lustrous hair seemed lank and lifeless.
"Yeah, I've seen some of the people you 'did,' Faith. Not a pretty sight," Buffy said.
"B. Please. Listen to me. Once more, even if it's the last time. Just cut me that tiny bit of slack from the place where you find it possible to forgive everyone. Like Riley. Even Angel," her voice trailed off into a near-whisper, "Even me." Faith's hands came closer together, as if in supplication.
When Buffy started to speak, Faith threw her hands in front of her face is warding off a blow. "No. You see, Buffy, after all of this time, I have finally re-learned what it is like to feel guilty, to truly feel sorry. Something I haven't felt since I was a very little girl. I first felt it in that damned cold boxcar when I ran away from Sunnydale. I felt it again riding alone in that miserable bus when I came back to California. And when Angel refused to kill me, believed in me, refused to give up on me even after I'd given up on myself, I felt it.
"But I didn't really understand what it was that I was feeling until I wallowed in it in that cold, cruddy cell."
The complete bleakness of Faith's face and voice crashed into Buffy's resolve to kick the stuffing out of Faith before returning her to custody. Faith seemed to dissolve from a swaggering, self-possessed, vicious bitch to a young, scared woman summoned into a life and calling not of her own making. There was an authentic ring in the words, she decided, and lowered Mr. Pointy.
Encouraged by the Slayer's lesser defenses, Faith took a step forward, "Thank you, B. Thank you. Just not killing me right now is worth the world to me. Honest. Although for quite a long while, there's nothing more I wanted than to be dead. To finally put an end to the meaningless crap my life had become. But now I think I can find some meaning, some peace."
The advance was met with a return of Mr. Pointy to the ready position. "Not so fast, Faith. Seems like I've heard this before."
The old Faith flashed out, "Right. Same old B. Same old judgments, same old rigid righteousness."
Then just as quickly, the anger faded. Faith continued, "Do you have any idea how hard it was for me during the past few months? To not kill Wesley? To not kill Cordelia? To not kill Angel? To beg Angel to kill me? I've never begged in my life. You know that, B."
"That part is true, Faith. Well, except maybe for the not killing Cordelia part. But what of it? In case you've managed to forget in the past few seconds, you're a convicted murderer who, as I recall the news, received several consecutive life sentences recently. How did you manage to escape the death penalty?"
Faith's shoulders slumped and her head dropped. Buffy had to lean forward to hear her murmur, "Yeah. Yeah. I know. But that seems so pointless, too. I mean, what good is it gonna do, locking me away forever?"
"Oh, I don't know, Faith. Call it society's twisted view of justice. Ya know, kill somebody, go to prison. Or maybe it's the justified fear of not having a maniac killer loose among us. And I see that prison has a new look. All black leather now. A lot more inconspicuous than those spiffy orange overalls you wore at the trial. And how did you acquire those new leathers? I didn't think that making license plates paid that well."
"Sarcasm. And we make shirts, not license plates. But thanks all the same, B."
"Think nothing of it, Faith. So how did you get out and how many widows did you create?"
"None, B, none," Faith said, shaking her head almost proudly, "And it's all women guards at the prison. I don't want to give you any details as that would make you an accessory. I used Slayer strength but not against any person."
"And the clothes?"
"Well, since I kinda decided to turn myself in on something of a spur of the moment thing, I didn't take time to dispose of all my stuff or close out all of my hiding places."
The silence hung between them, almost like a living thing.
"So why are you here, really, Faith? You must know that I can never really, fully forgive you. You've hurt me too often too deeply for that. And that's just for stealing my body and sleeping with Riley."
The curtain of silence slid back between them.
"I know that, B. I know that I can never really square things with anybody, especially with you. And it goes way beyond guilt. Like when I dusted that vamp behind the Bronze, the girl said 'thank you' and really meant it. Not cuz she was scared of me or wanted something from me, she really felt it.
"There's this, B. You're not going to believe this, either but it's true. I want someone to look at me and say 'I love you' the way Riley said it to me. You. Us. You know what I mean. For the first time in my life, I knew that here was someone who really meant what he said. He wasn't saying it just to get into my pants. Although he didn't have to try. So I got to thinking that maybe everything I'd learned all of my life wasn't right. Maybe people can do things because they're genuine and right. Not because they can get something out of the deal."
When Buffy didn't respond, Faith added, "But, see, I know now that I gotta try, to see for myself that there's something besides hurting before I get hurt. Try to make payback a little bit less of a bitch."
"So you want to be a little less of a bitch while doing this payback?" Buffy couldn't help herself. The opportunity to slash back at Faith was just too tempting.
Faith winced, "Yeah. That's it. Exactly. If I'm going to make things even a little bit right, I've got to start right now."
"So why don't you start by returning to prison right now so everyone sleeps a little bit better at night? Seems to me that'd be a making-things-rightie. Make everything five by five again."
Faith started to pace back and forth, jabbing her index finger in the air for emphasis, "But that's just it, B. If I just sit in prison, how is anyone gonna be any better off? I mean, it's only on the outside that I can truly change things. The real punishment is not sitting in some cell although that's been hard enough. You know that my cell is exactly four and a half paces long and two and a half paces wide? Those damned cells won't even let me take a real step," she said letting a bit of hysteria creep into her voice, "But no. The real punishment is to face the people I've hurt and try to compensate in some way.
"Ironic, isn't it? My body is imprisoned but my head and spirit aren't. And I'd still be running even in that damned prison cell. Running inside my head from all of the hurt and pain and anger that I've felt, that I've caused. I want to stop running, B. I want to stand and face it down."
"So Faith the Evildoer magically becomes Faith the Miracle Worker."
"Something like that."
They could both feel the curtain coming between them again.
"Don't shut me out, B. If there's anyone that I want to try to make things up to, it's you. For so long, I hated you. I hated you for being the Chosen and I was only the next one called when those bastards on the Council thought you were dead. Do you really know what it's like to be second best, second fiddle, always in your shadow? No. Skip that. There's no way you could know. But, hell, B, you're even blonde. The Light compared to my Dark. "
"And what makes me so special that I merit your focus?"
"Please, B. You've been right all along. You were the one to reach out, to be my friend. And, finally, after too long," she took a deep breath, "I want to. No, I need to tell you that I thank you for that. And I want to show you that it does matter. That I matter.
"For the longest time, I felt that I could only exist beneath you and that only by killing more, hurting more that I could have my own identity. I know now that's not the case."
"So do you have a plan?" Buffy said, finally dropping Mr. Pointy to her lap.
Faith dropped down to her knees at the edge of the bed and scooped up Buffy's hand, "Yes. Yes. I do. I want to be like Angel."
At the sound of that name, Buffy's face clouded over again. "No, hear me out, B. I can only guess about what happened between you and Angel but what he's doing up in L.A., it matters. He helps people every day. I can do the same thing."
"You can become a vampire?" Buffy said and felt the involuntary squeeze of the other Slayer's powerful hands on hers.
"I deserve that, B and every other nasty thing you can call me. And maybe I won't ever deserve more than that. But will you hear me out?"
"Just because I'll listen to you doesn't include any promises."
"Fair enough."
Faith rocked back on her heels and dragged her right hand through her hair to pull it off her face. "I know that I can never show my face in public again. Definitely a lifetime of microwave popcorn and old movies on the tube for a Friday night treat. The cops and the courts, they're never going to forget me," she stopped and favored Buffy with a lopsided, sardonic grin, "But even that's good in a weird, twisted kind of way.
"I can use that to my advantage. You know that my skills as a Slayer are at least equal to yours. But I have been in, and will go. places you'd never dream of going. Face it, B. You and the rest of the Scoobies are just too damned nice to really walk on the wild side."
"And if that's true?"
Faith re-captured Buffy's hands. "Think about it, B. We can truly be partners. Just like you thought we could be when I first got to Sunnydale. I will be happy to be the Dark to your Light. I know I will have to stay in the shadows forever while you are in the sunlight. And that'll be okay, too, as long as I can replace the pain and the anger with something else. Please, B."
Buffy yearned to believe Faith. Wanted to believe Faith.
"Maybe, Faith, maybe."
"That'll have to do," Faith said, beaming. "It's a start. You'll see, B. It'll all be five-by-five."
"Yeah. Five-by-five."