The wind whipped across my face as I wandered the cold Chicago streets, making my way from sunny California back to Boston any way I could. By bus, by train, by hitchhiking down a long and winding road. Ok, so you're probably wondering why I'm leaving the fun and sun of Cali to the blustery winters of Beantown. Long story short…there was a girl, and I had to get away. I had to escape. The damn bitch made me feel…

My only protection from the nippy temperatures, which, by the way, was dropping by the minute, was the leather jacket I took from her; the vanilla-ish scent of her perfume still lingering within the insulation, forever embedded with her scent. Though it was a comforting thing, it was driving me insane. I wished I could just walk without it on, because every breath, every intake of air, it enveloped my sinuses and made me regret leaving in the first place. But it was for her own good…I ain't no good for her…all I'm gonna do is bring her down anyway.

Midnights are always a lonely time to be on your own. Especially in the cold. I ducked into this warming station they had set up along State Street, a few lecherous men peering at my leather clad legs as I sat on one of the cots, rubbing my hands together trying to fend off frostbite. Ignoring their stares, I glanced out the window, to the Macy's windows. I heard about these, how year after year the former Marshall Fields windows were decorated with a different theme every year. Never got to see them, though. Seemed too touristy to me.

The display windows were decorated in a holiday lovers theme, exchanging gifts and stuff, kissing under the mistletoe, and sappy stuff like that. I wanted to turn away, but all I could picture was her…her lips on mine under the mistletoe, giving her the gift I had picked out for her, which, coincidentally, is still in my pocket. Sighing, I checked my pockets for any cash, finding only 5 bucks. So, it was either a beer, or food. I opted for the beer, and headed down to J.N. Michaels, not too far from the warming station.

I ordered and paid for my MGD, popping the top off and tossing it into the inner pocket of the leather jacket. Every beer that I drank to forget her, I vowed I'd keep the tops. So far, I think I've got about 32. I turned in my barstool chair and stared out the window, watching the snow starting to fall. God, I'm pathetic, sitting in a bar, drowning my desires in barley and hops, the snow reminding me of the beautiful sparkle of desire in her emerald eyes. Before I knew it, she was walking past the window, her short, yet muscular stature quickly glancing around, as if looking for something she lost. Oh, fuck. Now I'm seeing shit. I clenched my jaw and swallowed the pain growing inside of me, started a tab, and ordered another beer, vowing to drown the blonde pain-in-my-ass out of my head once and for all. And if took me killing all the god-damned brain cells in my head to do it, then that's what I was gonna do. To fuck if I can't pay the bill.

I turned back around on my barstool, and watched some football game on the TV they had blaring. I think it's the Bears and Green Bay. But I really don't care at this point. Before I knew it, I had pounded away 6 beers and halftime had come around. The jingle of the bells above the door rang, and at that moment, the jukebox started blaring "You Sexy Thang" by Hot Chocolate. Oh great. Ok, I knew I had a lot to drink, but…I'd be fucked if it wasn't her exact fucking double, looking cold and exhausted, wearing the same outfit that I saw walking past…oh. Oh shit.

She glanced around the room wearily, as if she was looking for a familiar face. My heart raced, and I knew she could sense me, feel my energy. I kept my mug hidden from her sight, trying not to let on that I was here, that I was masking my emotions by running and pub-crawling. She headed to the bar, standing right next to me, and handed a flyer to the bartender, asking if he had seen the missing person. And that's when she glanced over at me. She cleared her throat, frowned, and blinked.

"Faith?" A disappointed tone laced her voice.

"B?" I acknowledged her, knowing my speech was slurring a bit.

"I've been looking all over for you…God…I was worried. Why the hell are you running?" God, she's so cute when she's mad. And yet, I have a habit of putting my foot in my mouth…especially when it comes to her.

"Because…I…you…shut the fuck up, B…I'm tired of the whole Goody-Two-Shoes thing. I gotta be bad…you know I'm evil. I can't be a part of the whole Scooby-thing." I polished off my 7th beer and glared at her, trying to shove her away, make the heartbreak less painful.

In a softer voice, she simply retorted "What are you running from, Faith?" I could feel my heart wrench deep in my chest. I merely stayed silent, glaring, hoping that she'll just walk away and let me be. But we all know B. She just can't leave well the fuck alone. "Faith, c'mon. Come back. I…we need you. I…we can't do this alone."

"Come on, B! You're the Big Wonderful. You and your little group of Goody-Goodies can handle anything that comes around." I turned and faced her, staggering slightly. She took my hand and tried to drag me out of the bar.

"Look, let's talk about this. We'll work out some sort of…compromise…or something." Her eyes pleaded with a hurt look.

Of course, being drunk and thick-headed, I refused to read between the lines. I was prepared to fight. I smashed one of my empty beer bottles against the bar, and snarled at my former beloved. "No…B, you don't understand. I can't! I just fucking can't! I…I'm not good for you. And you ain't taking me outta here unless its in a fucking body bag." Customers were already freaking out. Good. I'm glad. B will be pissed at me, and kick my ass, and hate me, and my plan to wallow will still be in effect.

To my inebriated surprise, as I blinked, I found myself lying on my back, staring at the ceiling, B handing the broken bottle to the bartender, apologizing. And God, I'm starting to feel sick. She handed the bartender and the manager some money…what looked like a wad of hundreds, and pulled me back up to my feet, dragging me out.

I staggered to my feet, swayed, and blinked. "I don't need your help. Leave me alone."

"Bullshit Faith. You and I need to talk." She folded her arms. "And if I can't talk to you like a civilized person, I'm prepared to take any measure necessary."

"Y'know…I'm not one for talking. I'm more for action. So, what? I won't talk, and you'll kick my ass and kidnap me? I'm a big girl, B. I can handle myself." I started to walk away.

I heard her sigh with frustration. "Wait…Faith…come on. I…you know what. Forget it. I don't even know why I bother. You're a selfish, spoiled bitch. You know, just because you don't get what, or for that matter, who you want, doesn't mean you have to throw a temper tantrum and run away. You call yourself a big girl. But all I see is a fucking whiny child."

I turned and glared at her. "What the fuck did you just say to me?" I rushed up and grabbed her by her shoulders. "No-fucking-body talks to me like that…EVER!" I snarled. Ok, yeah, my plan was to piss her off to leave me alone. So why didn't I want her to leave.

"Oh come off of it, Faith. We've all had shitty lives. So your mom was an alcoholic whore. So your father beat you. So everyone you've ever felt had an impression on your life thought you were no good, you'd either be in jail or dead by the time you're 24. Wasn't it you that says that you don't care? Well, start fucking proving it." She glared back at me, the snow falling and catching on her eyelashes, the tears imminent in her eyes.

I felt a lump growing in my throat, and my body quickly sobering up. I released my grip on her and fell to my knees. The one I wanted was right in front of me…and I wanted so much to stop running, to give in and love. But y'know…every time I do…I fucking get burned. And I don't wanna feel that pain ever again. And…well…like I said…I care too much for her to hurt her too. Because that's all I'd do…hurt her.

She dropped next to me, taking my face into her hands, bringing my wounded-heart eyes to meet her caring gaze, an upset pout crossing her lips. "I…I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to…I just…damn it, Faith. Why can't you see that I love you?" She turned her head away, blushing, embarrassed that she admitted to something so…taboo…in her mind. I was dumbfounded, to say the least. I thought I was gonna be the one to say it…

"Hey…B…I…it's just…I…look…you're the only one, despite all that we've been through, who felt…well…trusted me. I…God, B." My heart pounded. I was freezing, and yet, sweating at the same time. The alcohol I previously ingested had left no more lingering effects on my body. I felt her body heat envelop around me as she slowly leaned in. I felt myself give a sexy smirk as I leaned closer, my heart about to beat out of my chest…I could smell her cherry lip-gloss…and I licked my lips.

Her eyes were wide with desire, "Just…please…kiss me," she breathily begged. I couldn't take it any longer…

"Faith! W-wake up! Buffy's missing! I…she…must not have come back from patrol last night!" Willow was frantically shaking me awake, standing at the side of my bed, still in her pajamas.

"FUCK, RED!!!" Oh, I was pissed. And that's when my eyes widened with panic on what Willow had just informed me.