Chapter 43

Switching

Faith stands by the broken kitchen window, her damp matted hair flicking around in the night breeze. Her face is in shadow, but I can see it clearly. Her eye is bruised and a gash on her cheek is in the last stages of healing shut, dried blood gathered on the right side of her lips. Her skin pale and clammy.

I push myself up from the ground, hissing in pain, and stand facing her.

"What happened?" I say.

"Don't play me." She growls. "You set me up. You lied to me. You used me."

"You don't believe that." I say.

"Try me." Faith says. "Xander."

I shake my weary, aching head and clutch at my ribs. I stagger over to what's left of my refrigerator and pull out a juice carton. Dark eyes follow me. I drink the warm juice down in one long draft and let the carton drop to the ground.

"I never lied to you. We had a deal. I kept it."

"Bullshit. Every moment we spent together was a lie." Faith said.

"Not how I see it. How did you find out?"

"I wanted answers. Went through your shit." She says. "I ain't completely stupid."

"What happened? Who attacked you?"

"Stop!" Faith says, her fist smashing down on the counter. "Stop! You know who!"

"I don't! I don't!" I rake my bandaged hands through my hair and let out a huff. "Faith, I have done nothing but help you. Not a damn thing to hurt you!"

"I trusted you. A fucking trusted you… I… you… and you are fucking Xander fucking Harris all along?"

"I am not! I am not Xander!"

"You just said…"

"I was. Okay? I was Xander. And I hated every god damned awful minute of it. You of all people should understand, Abigail!"

Faith's advance halts hard, like she struck a wall. Her eyes flick down to the floor and she sucks in a ragged breath, hands to her belly. She turns away from me, and rests her hands on the bench. The metallic clack draws my attention to her hand. A silver device is in her palm, three loops wrapped around her fingers. Her fingers claw at the counter, pink and trembling.

"Before you woke up Willow accidentally turned me into a girl, though we didn't figure that out for months. And, it was weird at first, but it fits. It fits me better. I had to start over. Build a new me. Figure out who I was. And in all that confusion, you showed up."

"Body issues." Faith mutters.

"You saved me Faith. And I vowed to return that favor. No lies, but secrets are okay."

"We were wrong." Faith says, turning back to look at me with those big doe eyes filled with contempt. "Secrets are not okay."

"Well, I am all out of secrets. You?"

Faith says looking down at the metal jewelry thing in her hand, she turns it over with a dull clack. It's beautiful, ornate, and feels… well, there is something strange in the air around it. "Did they know?"

"No." I said, resting my weight against the refrigerator. "Buffy, Willow and I all fell out while you were out of action. I kept you secret."

"Why? After what I did to you. To you all. Why?"

"Because you needed me."

"You're pathetic." She says, turning to face me. A tear is mingling with the blood on the side of her mouth.

"I am. But I don't regret my decision. Or what happened between us." Faith goes to say something, but bites it back. "Faith, who attacked you? Was it these soldier guys in black?"

"Yeah." Faith says. "Watcher's Council, right?"

"No. At least, I don't think so. They captured Oz, and are experimenting on him. They shot Buffy."

"Sounds like The Council." Faith says.

"Yeah, guess it does." I sigh. "Look, I just got pounded into a pulp by a metric shit tonne of vampires, and I really need to sleep. Buffy can't chase you now, if you need to take your stuff and leave, I understand. I wish it worked out any other way, but I understand."

"You want me gone." toying with the jewellery thing.

"What I want? I want to save everyone. Buffy. Oz. You. And I want us to be together. You and me. I want you to let Giles lift the curse on you and you to be The Slayer again. Fix your mistakes. And a puppy. And a burger. Two burgers. And more than anything right now I just want to sleep."

"Sounds like a nice dream."

"It does. But we both know life likes to kick us when we dream So... "

Silence falls between us. Faith wipes at her face with the back of a bruised hand, and sniffs.

"Wanna shower?" I say.

"Yeah." She sighs, slipping the metal thing off her hand and into her pocket. "Yeah, I do."

There is nothing sexual in my offer, and I guess she senses that, perhaps that is why she accepts. God knows I am in too much pain right now, and any of the hornies left hours ago. I pad into the bathroom and flip on the faucets with no aim other than the application of hot water to my bruised and bleeding bodies. Which, obviously, is why I struggled to peel off my jacket. But Faith is beside me, and deftly tugs it free, tossing it down on top of her own. She turns me to face her, fingers at the collar of my button down.

Something dark passes behind her eyes, and perhaps I recognise it, because it lurks within me too. The killing urge. The urge to take me by the throat and crush the pain inside away. I gaze into that darkness and she gazes back and perhaps it is like a mirror to her as well, as it stirs her, drawing her focus onto me. Or perhaps it is a memory of that day I came to connect with her, after she accidentally killed Alan Finch, and she poured all her rage into me, strangling me. Until Angel showed up.

I watch those same strong fingers pop the button of my blouse, and she continues down and down, until with a painful shrug I drop the garment to the floor. She turns me, undoing my bra strap. I feel her hands ghost over my back, settling on my right shoulder.

"This mole here." She whispers. "I thought it funny you had one like him. Like, three together here."

"You remembered that night?"

"Yeah." She says. "Wasn't that long ago for me." I feel her hands slide over my shoulders, squeezing, massaging. I moan and my eyes flutter shut. And then I notice it, beyond the pleasure her hands are giving me, and the pain of my body, a sensation.

"Is that you? I can feel you." I say. "Like, this sort of warm buzzing, bubbling, in the middle of my spine."

"Yeah. Buffy and I had that too. Guess it is a Slayer thing." She says. "I felt you at the hospital. It's how I knew."

She steps back, and I can't help but turn my head over my shoulder and watch as she peels away her clothing. She doesn't tease, doesn't play, she just slips free of her dark skins. She stands, pale and vulnerable in the dim, flickering light.

I draw down my jeans, letting the remaining clothes drop away. I reach forward and take her hand, and lead us both under the hot stream of water.

We wash each other, slowly and carefully, avoiding the wounds. Faith lowers her forehead to meet mine, and we just stand there for the longest time, eyes closed, letting the water work its magic. It is her that pulls my chin up so we can kiss. A chaste reconnection. Nothing more. And I let her draw me into her weary embrace.

Together we watch the blood and grime circle down the drain beneath our feet.