So I'm kinda churning these chapters out. But I'm a lazy writer. I like this format. Not having to worry too much about exposition, or setting. It's nice. Tone and pace, plot moments only. It's easy to write.
Some familiar faces in this chapter. Leave a review so I know if I did them justice or not.
"Never thought I'd get here."
"You earned it."
"You sure about that?"
"I am."
Faith touched the jasmine blooming in the courtyard.
"Isn't it kinda corny for me to be meeting you up here, Angel?" He smiled from his place by the banister. The moon made his white skin particularly preternatural. It was apt, really.
"You can be wherever you want, Faith. With whoever. You know that."
"But it's not real."
"It's as real as you want it to be."
"Maybe I'm not sure."
"About heaven?"
"Grateful for that. I meant about being dead. Y'know? There are people down there who need my help."
"You've helped plenty. You can rest now. You can just let yourself be happy."
"My part's done in the grand plan, huh?"
"I didn't say that." The voice had changed, and Faith jumped. She stepped back a pace.
No courtyard any more. No night blooming flowers or the sickly sweet scent that came with them. No moonlight. Instead, her penthouse. Her old penthouse. Complete with punchbag and 90's stereo.
And fake Daddy.
He smiled.
"Definitely didn't think I'd see you up here," Faith's voice was cautious. Measured.
"Well now, not all of our time together was murder and plots. You know that." Richard, the Mayor, whatever you called him, fake Daddy was smiling at her. "I'm here with an offer for you. One time only. No backsies." He chuckled, and the sound was so warm and familiar that Faith could almost forget the horrible things he had done. She had done.
Almost.
"And what'll it cost me?"
"It's what it might cost you. We don't have any guarantees."
"And that is?"
"This," he gestured around them, "heaven. Yours. We send you back, you carry on where you left off. But no one can promise you'll get a second invite here when the time comes."
"Sounds like a pretty sucky deal," said Faith. She sat on the edge of her old bed, trailed her fingers softly down the covers. She'd loved these damn bed covers.
"Yes, it does rather. But Lucifer is about to make his move on Dean. And we're fairly confident he'll die without your assistance." The softness was gone. Her fingers were touching something solid, scratchy. A wooden bench. Giles's voice was a welcome relief. He leant against a tall tombstone.
"He's gonna kill him?"
"You know there are worse things than death." She knew. She shuddered.
"Then I suppose I don't got much of a choice, do I?"
"I suppose not."
"Best do your thing," she stood and held out a hand to him, "before I change my mind, G-Man." His eyes glittered behind his glasses and he chuckled.
"Faith," he took her hand between both of his, "poetic. The one thing that he always struggles with."
"Don't get all melodramatic on me here," she grinned, then jumped when she felt a shock in her wrist. The figure in front of her now was small, blonde. Buffy smiled at her.
"Good luck, little sister."
Then Buffy was gone.