Disclaimer: Joss owns all the characters. I burglarized his wall safe and made photocopies for my own use. I own nothing but a beat up car, a personal library of 600 books and a finicky Muse.
Lonely Letters
Chapter Seven
By IceWing (icewing@one.net)
Chapter 7
Her eyes closed, Faith slowly forced her arms up and down, moving her body through a twelve inch range of motion over and over again. It was oddly settling, the repetitive nature of exercise. Almost without fail, it allowed her to clear her mind of whatever junk was cluttering it up and focus herself towards whatever end she wanted to apply herself to.
It still amazed her how much sharper her mind seemed these days. For some reason, she was soaking up knowledge like a dry sponge. It made her pause sometimes, wondering what else in her life she had written off as impossible before she really gave it a shot. Obviously school and education were something she had been way wrong about. School was just one of many things that fit into that category.
Up and down, her arms were slowly moving through the range. One thing that she had learned was that the slower you moved, the more effective the exercise was. There wasn't enough room in her cell to do martial arts practice, at least not the big stuff, so she focused on working out her muscles with pushups, sit-ups and isometric exercises. That plus a whole lot of stretching filled up a couple of hours a day. As she straightened her arm once more, Faith took a small breath, then closed her eyes and let it out. Her body was completely vertical there in the center of her small cell, her entire weight resting on her outstretched fingers and thumbs. Now, for something new. Carefully, she shifted her center of mass from the center and slowly brought her right hand, which used to be dominant before her Slayer-ness had been activated and triggered some kind of ambidexterity, up along her left arm, across her chest and held it to the side of her body. For a full ten count, she maintained that position, breathing slowly, focusing on her balance. Focusing on herself, on who she was inside. Focusing on her surroundings. She could sense the con in the cell across the corridor watching her, hear the sounds of the prison's lifeblood pumping through the walls. The sound of a guard's boots approaching her cell.
Faith sighed, knowing that she didn't want to have to explain this to any guard who stopped by. Arching her back, she brought her feet down in front of her head, a position which would have resulted in most people screaming in pain from bending their spine like a piece of taffy. With a gentle push from her fingertips, she uncurled like a spring into a standing position, just as the guard stepped into view in front of her cell. A guard who had a clipboard in one hand and a good sized cardboard box nestled under the opposite arm. A box that Faith could see had her name written on the side.
"Need you to sign by the X, Stevenson." The guard slid the clipboard through the bars, the pen dangling from a string.
Faith ambled over to the bars, trying to maintain the illusion of calm which she most definitely was not feeling, and scrawled her signature on the marked line of the form. As soon as she had handed the clipboard back through, the guard called for the cell door to be opened and the steel bars slowly slid to the side. Before they had stopped, the guard handed the package through to Faith, who grabbed it with trembling hands. With a frog in her throat, she thanked the guard, then turned to her bed and sat down, staring at the cardboard box with a look somewhere between disbelief and awe. The clanking sound of the cell door closing didn't even register on her.
A package. For her. Faith smiled softly, as there was only one person who it could be from. Her hands were trembling as she lifted open the flaps on the top of the box. The packing tape had already been cut by the mail inspectors as they checked for contraband. Sitting on top of the contents of the package was an envelope, her name on the front written in the now familiar handwriting. Her fingers plucked the letter from the box, and she held it in her hands, cradling it like one would a bird that had fallen from its nest. Her eyes wandered from the envelope to the package and back as she tried to decide which to pay attention to first.
The letter won. Although she was almost giddy with the thought of a care package, these letters meant so much more to her than anything else in the world.
Dear Faith,
I'm going to play a hunch here and say you are reading this letter before you go through the package I sent you. Stop and go through it right now, please. I want you to take a look at everything, because there are some things in there I want to explain to you. And, I have a feeling you're chewing at the bit to get into that box So please, dig in.
Faith looked over at the box, then back at the letter.
Go on! Dig in Come on, its all for you, so get in there and take a look. Its not like you've never gotten a gift before, right?
As she read those words, Faith's eyes began to tear up. Desperately, she tried to dry them, push the tears away, with the heels of her palms, but it was no use. The only person who had ever given her anything, other than grief and bruises, had been the Mayor. Given her that damned knife so she could go out and be his own private little assassin. And she had.
The tears rolled down her face as she struggled to regain her composure. She wasn't that person anymore. She was trying to make things right, trying to make up for the horrors she had committed. And she was, day by day, paying her debt to society, as lame as it sounded. As soon as she was out of jail, she would be able to do a lot more, actively fighting against the darkness as it tried to choke the life out of humanity, but first she had to put in her time in these walls to at least begin to atone.
After a few minutes, the tears stopped, and she dried her face, trying to hide the after affects of crying. In here, tears were a weakness and she didn't need the vultures to start circling her. She had finally gotten some solid breathing space without having to bring herself to the guards' attention and that was just fine by her. Wiping her hands on the sides of her shirt, she carefully began to pull items from the box.
Faith shook her head as she saw the first batch of presents her friend had sent her. Socks. The super cushy kind of athletic socks. The ones that felt like you were walking on air while you were wearing them. She pulled out a pair and squeezed them gently in her hands. She couldn't believe how luxurious they felt. The ones the prison issued were paper thin and didn't do anything to keep the cold of the floor from soaking into your bones. Pulling her feet up onto the bunk, she peeled off her old socks and slid the new ones on. It was like night and day, they felt so soft. It was pathetic how much better something as simple as a pair of new socks could make you feel so much better. As she was pulling the several other pairs in the box out to put away, Faith's eyes fell on the treasure the socks had been padding.
Sitting there was a brand new Sony Mini-disc player. The box was still encapsulated in its shrink-wrap cocoon. Nestled along side it was a stack of brand new mini-disks. With both hands, the stunned Slayer picked up the box and set it on her lap. A look of pure disbelief was on her face.
One of the things she had missed the most about prison was that there was no music. As stupid as it sounded, it meant a lot. No matter what shit she had been through in her life, she had always been able to turn on a radio or listen to somebody else's. Music was one of the few things that had always helped her deal with the shit in her life. But since she'd turned herself over to the LAPD, there had been no tunes. And now, sitting in her hands was music. Faith smiled, letting go of the box and picking up the mini-disks. Ok, now sitting in her hands was music. Idly, she began flipping through the disks, reading off the titles.
The Corrs - In Blue, Type O Negative - Bloody Kisses, Holst - The Planets (Performed by the Montreal Symphony) , AC / DC - Back in Black, Lifehouse - No Name Face, Van Halen -5150, Cyprus Hill - Self-Titled, MegaDeath - Rust in Peace, Korn - Self-Titled, Linkin Park - Hybrid Theory, Otis Reading - The Ultimate Otis Redding, Blues Masters - Post War Chicago, Scottish Rogues - Self-Titled.
Faith felt her eyes watering up again as she stared down at the eclectic musical collection. She wanted to cry and jump and down and laugh all at the same time. It was such a rush. Carefully she set the mini-disks on top of the box containing the player and moved them against the wall so they wouldn't fall and get damaged.
Her dark tresses fell across her face as she reached into the box again, this time pulling out two 12 packs of batteries, for the mini-disk player she assumed. Can't play music without juice, she mused. Next the box let loose a stack of books, half a dozen tall. First was a book on Tai Chi, followed by one on Eastern Asian Culture and Religion and its much thicker, and older, cousin on East Asian mythology and demonology. A hardback copy of Tolkien's trilogy was next, along with what looked to be military sci-fi. Finally, there was a blank hardcover, suitable for sketching or keeping a journal. Faith set those on the edge of her desk, next to her coursework for the distance learning program.
The package was over halfway empty now. A package of good pencils, wooden pencils Faith automatically noticed, along with a tiny pencil sharpener. Her friend was giving her more than something to write with and she knew it. One of her concerns was that if some vamp came looking for her, she wouldn't have any way of dusting it short of ripping its head clean off. Not a problem any more.
Finally, Faith pulled the last two items out of the cardboard box. The first was a bag of oranges, about five pounds worth. The second was a full box of chocolate bars, and not the cheap kind either. A complete, sealed box of Ghiradelli Dark Chocolate with Raspberries. Her mouth began to salivate at the sight of these last two items and she had to resist the urge to tear into them right then and there. Her body had been in low gear since her arrival, due the lack of calories she was given in the cafeteria. A Slayer's metabolism was a fearful thing, and what was adequate for most normal people was barely enough to keep her functional, nowhere near what she needed to be in peak condition. Then again, there wasn't a lot of need for her to be in peak fighting trim in jail, now was there.
As she was moving the box off the bed so she could stretch out and finish the letter, she heard something rolling around inside. Looking, she found a pair of tubes of lip gloss, both far lighter than what she used to wear, almost natural in color. Smiling, she opened one up and traced it across her lips, feeling the long missing sensation of her lips being protected from the dry air of the prison. That done, she stretched out, careful not to disturb her new bounty, and began to read.
Think of it as an early Christmas present. I'd say maybe a birthday present, but honestly, I don't know when your b-day is. Yet another thing we messed up.
I guess I'll give you the low down on everything that's been happening lately before waxing philosophical this time. First some good news, then some bad. But read the whole thing before you react at all. I guess the most important thing is that we won our championship match against Glory. She had us suckered a couple of times, due to some convenient camouflage on her part. She even managed to get one of her lackeys to slice Dawn up pretty good. Which was big time a bad thing. World getting sucked into hell kind of bad. I can now say I've seen a dragon, as one popped through the door when it opened. I hope the thing starves to death, cause I don't want to deal with it. Buffy had figured out that the blood was a two way switch and that the only way we could stop it was to use the same blood, in this case Summer's blood, to close it. So she did a half gainer off a hundred foot tall tower, through the door, then hit the ground.
I've got to say, she's the only one I know who can come back from the dead twice. I hope you managed to finish that sentence before it sunk in. She's better now, but I don't want to get into too much detail. I wonder though if it triggered the calling of another. That would really freak out the Council I bet. Three instead of one
Dawn is recovering pretty well. All this stuff hitting in sequence like this has really knocked her for a loop, but I think she's back on the horse now. I'll fill you in some more on her when we get together.
Let's see. Tara got her head screwed back on straight after we beat Glory. Brain sucking abilities are not a nice thing Willow was major league pissed and managed to smash Glory up pretty good, despite Glory's god complex. Of course, she had to resort to some major dark mojo there, which we're hoping will not have any lasting effect, but you know, uncomfortably well, how seductive that kind of thing can be.
Xander and Anya broke up. Can't say I'm really surprised. He came home from work and caught her with an ex-work associate of hers. She told him that since they were talking of being together for good, that she had to experience as much as she could before the 'archaic commitment ritual'. Plus, she told him that she was pretty sure that she wasn't the only one he had feelings about. Needless to say, the relationship was officially kaput at that point. Anya moved out of town a couple days later, nobody seems to know where.
Spike's still hanging around, helping out. Bumming smokes and mixing WheataBix with his beverage of choice. Ick!
Giles is doing pretty good He's been playing guitar at a local coffee shop a couple nights a week. He's pretty good, never would have expected him to be able to play guitar or sing. Guess we all have hidden depths.
Anyway, that's the news from SunnyDale. If I knew how to write out that sound they make on the news radio channel I would.
Been thinking a lot. Again. Wait, I said I'd explain the stuff in the package to you. Crap, sorry about that. Most of the stuff is pretty self explanatory, but the books and the music, well, there's a bit of something there.
I wish I knew better what kind of tunes you like. I kinda went through what kinds of stuff I like to listen to, or maybe relate to would be a better description. If you want any specific albums, let me know what they are and I'll try to track em down. You know, as I look at these mini-discs in front of me, I realize that my musical tastes are a bit odd, to say the least. The Planets. Now, let me preface this by saying that classical music normally isn't my thing. But there is something about this stuff. It's all in there. No matter your mood, one of the tracks will match it perfectly. Or, you can just start from the beginning and listen all the way through and it will take you through good memories and bad ones, the highs and lows and everything in between. The Blue Masters album is another one like that. The music, the sound it evokes one feeling, but the lyrics are something completely different. And the style. They just don't play like that anymore. Its like looking into an era long past. Otis Reading. The man was just, well he was damn good. Timeless kind of stuff. About just how life can be. And how we should try and live it.
Lets see, what else am I sending you. Some of the others remind me of various things I have had to go through in my life, others about how I feel about certain times, certain events and certain people. A couple of them just let you loose yourself in the music, letting it wash over you. ~ Laugh ~ Bet you never thought you'd ever get any bagpipe music as a gift, did you? Its weird, I used to think it sucked, but I was on the beach one day, and there was this piper playing down by the docks, and it just resonated within me. Kinda gets me going when I'm down, recharges me I guess. I can understand now why so many armies used to use em in battle, they inspire the troops.
The books are mostly things I thought you might like to read. Again, I didn't know what you liked, so I sent a variety. Tolkien is still one of the best writers of all time. I thought maybe Tai Chi could help you look inwards a bit, work on focus. Plus, it's a pretty good workout, even if it looks goofy as hell. And if you speed it up, it's a pretty solid martial art. The sci-fi book I sent you is the first in what a lot of people consider to be some of the best sci-fi being written today. I checked it out an in about 8 years, David Weber has written close to twenty novels, all of them selling like hotcakes. The books on Eastern stuff is pretty much just to help you with your studies. ~ grin ~ You keep that up by the way. Its damn important, believe me.
Finally, the blank book. I thought maybe it would be good if you wanted to keep a journal or something. Maybe just draw in it. Anyway, it's yours, so enjoy. The pencils are #2 hardwood, not some of those crappy plastic ones made to look like wood. So, they should work for artwork or writing or anything else you need to use them for.
Oranges and chocolate. What can I say, they're damn good. And I know that you probably aren't getting as much to eat in there as you would like, so think of them as, well, treats
Well, that's it for the package. So, now on to more mundane subjects.
Well, mostly that's all for the package. I just wanted to say that I hope you enjoy everything in there.
I wish I could see your face when you opened it up and saw everything inside. I get the feeling that you haven't had a lot of kindness in your life. Hell, that's about a thousand percent understatement. Maybe that's part of why it feels so damn good when I'm writing to you. Because my life hasn't been exactly a bowl of cherries. More like a bunch of pits. ~ sigh ~ I keep thinking that's why I should have known better what you were going through, tried harder to be more supportive of you. But, I wasn't, so I'm trying to make up for it.
You know, as I'm sitting here, trying to think what you're going to look like when you see everything, I realized something very sad. I've never seen you smile Faith. Oh, I've seen you smirk, and I've seen that predatory snarl kind of look which some people have probably mistaken for a smile. But I've never seen a real smile on your face. I've never seen your eyes light up with happiness. Or laughter. That's something else I realize you've never done in my presence. You've chuckled, you've laughed at people, hell you've laughed at me, but I've never heard what you sound like when you truly laugh from your very core I hope that I can help you be happy again, or maybe just be happy at all. You deserve so much better than you have gotten Faith.
You know, as we write these letters back and forth, I realize how much better we are getting to know each other and I wonder about how the rest of the gang would react if they knew And I realize, I really don't care. You're worth knowing, worth being a friend to, and if they don't get it, then that's just to bad for them. ~ chuckle ~ not like the rest of the gang has lied about big things in the past. At least I have a good reason, cuz you definitely deserve a second chance.
I think I'm babbling now, so I'm gonna finish this up and get the package in the mail.
Take care of yourself, Faith. You're in my thoughts a lot these days ~ grin ~ What a scary place to be
Your Friend,
Me.
