After the lashing from Willow, I've decided to just shut everybody out. I was right the first time, can't go back. Can't change people. I know I've changed, but it's harder to get other people to change how they think about you. And I know now that I can't. The Scoobies are always going to think of my as that crazy girl who tried to kill them.
Okay, saying it like that, I can see their point.
But my point is, I'm not that way anymore. I'm trying. I wish B's death didn't have to be the reason for me getting called again. I wish I was still rotting in my cell. But I'm not. And that's not gonna change either.
Angel's been coming around. I think he's leaving soon, doesn't want to tell me. I've been avoiding him a little; leaving early for patrol, sometimes I don't answer the door, even though I know he knows I'm home. I didn't tell him about Willow. God, that was embarrassing. The little Wicca grew a pair, which is funnier still 'cause she's a lesbian.
Or maybe it's just funny to me.
Sloan's noticed I'm a little quieter. "You know," he says to me one afternoon during training, "I don't think you're focusing." I look up at the tree stump I've been throwing knives at. The knives are so far off the target half of them are buried in the wall behind the stump.
I shrug. "Just not on my game today, I guess."
He looks at me. It's a look I'm pretty sure they teach in Watcher School. Giles is really good at it, or was. "Right."
I put down the knives and walk over to the punching bag. A few good punches, a kick or two later, he stops the bag. "Faith," he says, giving me the look again. "What's up?"
I stare at him for a minute, debating. "Stuff," I say noncommittally.
"Stuff," he repeats. "Stuff like…you like a new guy but he doesn't like you?"
I stare at him like he's got three eyes. "No."
"Stuff like…you just can't decide between getting me the Corvette or the BMW for my next birthday?"
I want to grin, but don't. "Hardly."
"Stuff like…they've discontinued your favorite salad dressing and you're mortally wounded about it?"
Now I laugh. "No…nothing as serious as all that."
He cocks his head and sits down on a mat. "What is it?" God…that drawl…wicked sexy.
I take a breath. "I ran into Willow and her friend Tara the other night."
He raises an eyebrow. "Oh? How'd that go?"
I nod. "Good, good. They were doing some ceremony over B's grave, I thought they were demons, I barged in, Willow threatened by existence if I come near her or any of her friends, and I ran away."
His expression doesn't change. "Oh. Neat."
"Neat?! That's not neat. That's…twisted. Mean, it was mean. The chick was seriously pissed."
"Faith…I've read the reports. I know your biography front and back now. You tried to kill these people. Several times. Willow…the witch? Didn't you hold a knife to her throat and try to slit it?"
Oh cripes. I look away.
"That's what I thought. I don't think you can expect them to rush to you with open arms and a dozen roses. Slayer of the year you weren't."
"Thanks," I mutter.
"But," he continues, "people change. And you have. They need to see that. For now, do as they wish…keep your distance. I'll talk with Mr. Giles. At least he must understand that you're the Slayer. You're the Chosen One."
The Chosen One. I don't like that term anymore. As long as I've been a Slayer it was always the Chosen Two…me and B. Even when I first got called…she was already here. She'd always been here. I was second. I don't like being the only.
He's still watching me as we sit on the blue exercise mats. "Is Angel still here?"
I nod. "For now."
"You're lonely."
I just stare at my feet, playing with my shoelaces. "Maybe a little. But Slayers, we're supposed to be alone."
Sloan thinks about this. "I think Ms. Summers changed the rules on that," he says gently.
"Yeah, well. I think we can rule out me getting back in with the only people in this town who know what I am, what's out there."
He covers his hand with mine. "I'm no substitute for a bunch of horny teenagers, but I'm not so old, either. You've got me."
I look at him. "You know, Giles got booted from Watcherville for gettin' too close to B. Like he was her old man."
He nods. "But they also had the best documented relationship between and Watcher and Slayer in history. The Council thought you might like someone like me a little better than someone like…oh, any of the rest of those stuffed shirts."
I smile at him. "Yeah, you're all right."
He grins. "Thanks. Still have a lot of work to do on you though."
"Ha ha," I say, jumping to my feet. I feel a little better. Not great, but better.
"Feel like a burger?" he asks me and raises his arm so I can help him up.
I grin. "Sure," and yank him up, tossing him behind me. He lands on the mats with an "Umph!" and looks up at me, grinning.
"Nice. Now you don't get fries."
Not great, but better.
**
Patrol that night is busy. Can't believe it. Vamps everywhere. Even ran into this one, Spike, who claims he was friends with Buffy. I can't be sure, so I let him go. I'll have Sloan check on that one with Giles.
I'm tooling around the cemeteries, checking out the local haunts when I walk by the Bronze and it's pumping. Dancing sounds fun…a little release, some hotties on the floor to tease…so I go in. It's jammin' inside and I squeeze through the crowd, making sure I don't see any of the Scoobies. Not a one, good.
Dancing feels great. Lots of poundin' bass, good guitar. Strobe lights and sweatin' bodies. My kinda party. A few minutes of dancin' isn't going to hurt anything. Just ten minutes and I'm out of there, back to my sacred duty. So I'm dancin', really getting' my groove on with this cutie with gorgeous blue eyes when I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around, ready to move on to my next dancing partner, only to look into the eyes of one Xander Harris.
"Faith," he says, while I stand there in complete shock, "can we talk?"
I nod, bracing myself for yet another Scooby blasting. We walk off the dance floor and head over to the couches.
"How've you been?" he asks me.
I'm a bit surprised, but still prepared for the attack. "Good. You?"
He nods. "Just this side of crappy, thanks." He sighs. "I heard about you running into Willow. I'm sorry."
I shrug. "S'ok."
"No, it's not. Will…she's having a rough time with this…dealing with Buffy and now you being back."
I look away.
"It's hard on everyone," he says, running a hand through his hair.
"Yeah, I know," I say, then cringe, sure that was the wrong thing. They don't want my sympathy.
He stares at me. "I'm sure it is," he says, and I'm completely shocked for the hundredth tonight.
"I am," I stress.
"Faith, I'm not here to ask you to be best friends. I've got issues with you by the truckload. But, I recognize that you're the Slayer. Plus, Angel talked to me."
This gets my full attention and my head snaps up. "What?"
He gives me this half-grin. "Yeah. And I still don't like him, either, for the record, but he asked me to go easy on you. Said you've changed. I guess I can't find out if that's true until I see it for myself. And that can't happen until I see you more than darting through trees and hiding behind tombstones."
"You've seen me?" I ask, amazed. Damn. I thought I was stealthy.
He nods. "Combat boots? Not the quietest things."
"Ah."
"So…I just wanted you to know that you can talk to me with out me taking your head off. I'm still mad," he ads quickly, "and I still have my reservations, but I think you deserve a chance to prove yourself. I mean, you've been here a few weeks already and only killed demons, so I think that goes in the plus column."
His tone is teasing, so I sorta smile at him. "Thanks."
"So…dancing?" he asks, indicating the dance floor.
"Just blowing some steam," I tell him. "Gotta get back out there…patrol," I say, standing. He stands too.
"Can I join you?"
I stare at him for a minute. "Sure," I say finally and lead the way out of the club and onto the Sunnydale streets.
Not great, but better.