Disclaimer ~ I lived in the icebox of the world. I can give you ice cubes if you want to sue. Works of love is all I own, and the thoughts that became the stories you see. Any of the characters you don't recognize are mine. Including the Circle
Authors Note ~ Hands down my favourite surprise of this series
Growing up is learning from your past. Evolution is letting it go. You can never become what you were meant to be when you carry the past with you.
Thud! A bag swung in the semi-dark.
Grow up. You'll never be the Slayer that she was. You are a replacement.
What purpose do you really have? Even with her dead, she is still a better Slayer than you.
Who are you going to be?
What will you become?
You made the wrong choices once, are you going to do it again?
Fists hit the punching bag in a flurry. Blood flecked the padding, dotting a map of furious hits and glancing blows. Thuds echo in every corner of the empty room. And yet, the turmoil was not assuaged. Still it raged, held its sway.
What? You think just because you made one good choice, you have made up for your past?
You can never make up for it. You killed, gleefully even.
They don't trust you. They never have, never will.
And all you are to them is cannon fodder. Do any of them like you? You know they don't.
Faster the blows fell, making the bag swing. Kicks landed high up the bag, the person a blur. Blood stained the tape on her hands; bruises appeared on her pale skin. Any natural tan she had, had paled in the years spent hunting the darkness.
She didn't feel the pain, the tears in her skin. She didn't notice the cuts begin to heal themselves. She didn't hear the door open, or close. She only knew the pain in her head.
All your life, all you have ever been is a follow-up. The understudy. Never known for anything you have ever done, other than evil. And you even fell in love a killer.
Gasping, she stopped. Running her hands along her face, she drew them back through her hair, gripping it tightly. She was more than that. She wasn't a screw up anymore, she hadn't been in years.
She had made atonement for her crimes. Hadn't she?
Sitting abruptly. Faith began to unravel the bandages around her hands. She winced as she pulled open freshly healed tears. Gods, she had made a mess of herself. She had bruises all up her arms and legs, and blood was flowing freely in several spots.
Hanging her head, she closed her eyes. She had been a Slayer for more years than she could count. And yet her mother's voice still tormented her. She still heard Gwendolyn Post's voice echo in her ears. She still felt like she wasn't good enough.
Would she ever?
Sometimes it seemed like all people saw when they looked at her was the Slayer who went evil. No-one ever saw the little girl who was still in there. The one who was seeking approval for who she was. The only one who saw that that little girl had been a man who became a demon, who wanted to eat graduation.
Well, him and a man who was a demon when she met him.
The forces of good seemed not to see her as she really was, but the evil forces seemed to have her pegged pretty well.
A soft hand on her hair made her raise her head. Gentle blue eyes, backed by a will so fierce it was steel, gazed at her. She offered a weak smile. He was always there when she needed him.
"Damn it, girl. You made a mess of your hands." He cradled her tattered hands in his capable hands. Gently, he pulled the remainder of the tape free, stroking the fine bones of her hands.
Faith snorted. "Figures. I make a mess of everything else."
A hand snapped out and grasped her hair. Pulling back, he made her meet his eyes. "That is enough."
Faith glared at him and tried to get free of his grasp. Unwavering, he held her in the position on the floor. "You think I don't know what was going through your head?"
He sat next to her and released her hair. Stroking her hair, he softened his voice. "You have so much pain written in your eyes. You have so much scarring on your soul, that it makes me ache inside."
A tear came unbidden to her eye.
"I look at you and I see someone who strode boldly into hell and strode just as boldly out the other side. You have been burned to the core of who you are and yet, I still see the woman I love. The woman who made the right choice. Do you know how strong that makes you?"
Faith looked at him helplessly, tears falling freely. It never failed. This man, this amazing, unbelievable man always managed to get into her head. He always knew what she was thinking. She reached a hand up to stroke his cheek.
He leaned into the caress for a moment. Then he looked at her sternly. "So who was it this time? Your mum or the bitch-watcher?"
Faith snorted. "Both." She winced as she stood up. Moving a few steps away, she stretched, reaching for the ceiling. "I'll never be as good as Buffy was, I killed humans, you know the drill."
She bent backwards, all the way until her hands touched the floor behind her. Staying in the bridge position for a moment, she then extended her legs straight up until she was poised, on her hands, her whole body primed.
"You never saw Buffy as a young Slayer, did you?"
"Nope."
A snicker reached her ears. She opened her eyes and looked at him. "What?"
"Just remembering. She spent so much energy trying to have her normal life, that she ended up staying just one step ahead of death." He sat on the floor and regarded her for a minute. "She was so in denial about who she was that she flirted with death every step of the way."
Faith held his gaze for a minute. "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because that is the difference. She may have more notoriety, but you are more alike than you think."
"Right." Faith balanced on one hand.
"When you were Called you took to it like a fish to water. Why?"
"Because it was better than where I came from."
"Precisely. And Buffy didn't, because where she came from wasn't all that bad." He laughed, low and coarse. "You flipped spots."
Faith used both hands to propel herself and landed a flip on her feet. "How so?"
He shrugged. "You both got a taste for power. She withstood it because she had a foundation. But you withstood despair and true destruction because it was all you knew."
Faith walked over and crouched next to him. She passed a hand gently over his short hair. "So, B went so dark as a vamp because she had no concept of failure?"
"Pretty much. Look at Dru. She was sweet and pious and never did the wrong thing. Being a vamp drove her nuts. You never had the opportunity to be innocent, so evil wasn't such a major change for you. And you understood that people come back from that." He kissed the palm of her hand.
"Buffy accepted Angel back, even after he had gone evil, because that was who she was. But she never believed anyone would welcome her back after being turned. You know why?"
Faith shook her head.
"Because she had always, ALWAYS, been the good girl."
Faith smiled he was right about that. She moved quickly and before he could react, she seated herself firmly in his lap. Laying her arms on his neck, gently encircling, she kissed his forehead.
"I love you."
Strong, capable arms came up to surround her. Laying his head on her shoulder, he cradled her close. "And I you, pet."
Faith leaned her head on his, savoring the closeness. Gently rubbing his back, giving comfort and receiving it back, she released the rest of the pain in her mind.
"Do me a favour."
She leaned back for a second and looked at him expectantly.
Spike leaned his forehead against hers. "Don't let your memories kill you. I need you too damn much."
Faith gifted him with a sweet, wise smile. "They can never hurt me. Not as long as you are there to scare them away."
Spike kissed her quickly on the lips. "Always." Pulling away, he smirked. "I never thought I would love a woman that needed me to fight her demons. Especially not a Slayer."
She punched him gently. "The only demons you need to fight are the ones I can't see. I can handle the real ones better than you.
Spike grinned, an unholy grin filled with love. "True that. But it is so much of a turn on to watch you fight."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"
"Hm..mm." Spike licked his lip. "Oh, yeah. When you fight, it is music. Pulsing through my veins. You are so deadly. So lethal. And the fact that you could kill me makes it so much more alluring."
Faith ran her tongue along her canine. "Knowing you could kill me, makes me shiver. Makes my blood pump."
"I know. I can hear it."
Faith leaned forward and sealed her lips on his. Playing out the kiss until at least one of them was breathless, Spike leaned away. "What do you say we go find a demon to kill?"
Faith flashed him a grin so evil it made his non-existent breath catch. "Oh, you mean foreplay?"
Spike nodded and stood. Extending his arm, he led his dark queen outside. Both paused for a second, inhaling the scents of the night. Exhilaration pumped through them as the night activating the center of their beings.
Two beings from opposites of the light, and yet the hunt was their reason for living. The hunt, and each other.
