Angel and I never spoke about that night. Life in Sunnydale is tame. Boring, even, but better than prison on any day. With all the time there I had to myself, I realized something. I actually miss the people. Not that I had any friends in prison, you're surrounded by people. You get used to the noise, the routine. I got in a routine myself now. Get up, go train, give Sloan some crap, go patrol. It's a life. Actually, it's so far from a life I can't even joke about it, but it's what I've got.
I realize now, why B was so stable, so good. She had people. Guess that counts more than I thought it would.
Angel's still hanging around. He patrols with me, most nights. I'm not sure when he's goin' back to LA and I don't ask. I really don't want him to, but who am I to ask him to stay? I think it's hard for him too. Hard to be here, but harder to go back, to get on with life now that she's gone. Sometimes we'll split up the patrol and I'll walk by her spot, and he's there. Just standing, staring at her grave, or sometimes he sits. I don't know if he talks to her every time, but once when I walked by I heard him say "She's doing really well with the slaying, Buffy, you'd be proud of her. She's different now." Then he stopped and when he started talking again he said, "God I miss you." It just about broke me. He sounded so…lost. I just choked back the tears and headed out so he could talk to her in private.
You gotta feel sorry for the guy. I don't think anyone loved her more. She was lucky. Even though they couldn't be together, he still loved her. I wonder what that's like. I guess it's kinda like what B felt for me, I dunno. Maybe I'll never know. But if it's anything like what I feel for her, now that she's gone, I feel lucky.
Tonight's patrol is going slow. Dusted one vamp, but he gave it up easy, so I'm still itchin' for a good rumble. I'm walking through the cemetery, on my way for my nightly check on B, when I hear voices off to my right. Creepin' up through the trees I see two people in cloaks chanting around her grave. This doesn't look good. I can't see their faces. So I do what instinct tells me too, I jump in.
"So…nighttime Tupperware Party?" I ask, walking up to the circle they're sitting around. "I suggest you find someone else's grave to host it on…this one belongs to my friend." The last words die in my mouth as one of them looks up, startled. It's Willow. I glance at the other…her friend, Tara. They're surprised to see me, but no more surprised than I am.
I back up. "Sorry…didn't mean to…sorry," I say.
Willow cocks her head at me. "Faith," she says. No love there.
"Look, I'm sorry, I didn't know it was you guys. I'll get outta your hair." I can't get away fast enough.
Willow raises an eyebrow at me. "It's fine. We hadn't started yet." She turns to Tara. "You know Tara."
I look at the blond. Crap. I met her when I was B…when I switched our bodies. Don't recall being all that nice to her. "H-hi."
She nods at me, doesn't smile. Don't blame her.
"We heard you were back. Keeping a low profile," Willow continues, watching me carefully. She kinda pushes Tara behind her.
I nod. "Trying to stay outta your way."
She considers this. "Good."
I'm a little hurt…hurt? Where did that come from?…but I try to understand. I take a breath. Gotta start somewhere. "Willow… I'm sorry-" I start to say when she cuts me off.
"Don't," she growls, low and mean. "Don't apologize to me. Don't talk to me. Go away. Go patrol, go be the Slayer, but don't come near me or mine."
Oh God.
"And I don't want to see you near Buffy's grave. Ever. Do you understand me?" she says, walking towards me. Her eyes are black for Christ's sake. What the hell is going on? She's in my face now…I can't believe this is mousy little Willow. As if reading my thoughts, jeez, maybe she is for all I know, she says, "I'm a little stronger now, Faith, a little more powerful. I suggest you don't test me on that."
I stare at her. But she's just getting started.
"You don't deserve to be here," she spits at me. "You don't deserve to be alive. That should be you," she says, pointing to Buffy's grave, "not her. Come near me, or any of my friends, and it will be."
I'm stunned, even a little scared. I back up and for the first time in my life, I run.