Chapter 3
With the door shut, the apartment was completely dark. For a very brief moment, Faith felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The dark had always been a bad place for her. It hid things. Things that wanted to hurt her. Vampires, demons, prison guards, run of the mill punks. Forgetting where she was for a second, the Slayer tensed as she felt a presence move around her.
A moment later, light flooded the room.
Xander moved past Faith, missing her tense stance as he dropped his keys on a table by the door and shrugged off his jacket. Tossing the garment on the back of a chair, he moved past the Slayer and into the living room. "If you want, go jump in the shower," he told her without looking back at her. "I'll put some clothes out for you to sleep in." Xander finally turned and saw Faith standing by the door. "We can throw your clothes in the laundry tomorrow." He took another look at her clothes, seeing just how threadbare and ill-fitting they were in the strong light of the apartment. "Or burn them. Your choice."
Faith adjusted her shirt without thinking, feeling slightly overwhelmed in the large apartment and realising that she wasn't looking her best. "Thanks," she said simply, choosing to ignore the crack about her clothes.
Stepping further into the living room, the ex-con took a good look at the space around her. The large entertainment unit took up an entire wall of the living room, shining glossy black and expensive. The kitchen table and chairs placed right by the windows that opened up to the courtyard outside probably gave an amazing view first thing in the morning and in the evening. The couch was large and looked comfortable, bookended by small endtables with lamps on them. The coffee table sat between it and the entertainment unit, covered in magazines and a few comic books. Close enough to put snacks within easy reach, but far enough away to be able stretch your feet out on the couch. Posters of old movies were framed and hung from the walls. More then that though, the place looked lived in. It was a home. The pair of boots left in front of the couch. The empty coffee cup on the kitchen table. The plate on the coffee table, a crust of toast now stale from sitting out there from morning. 'This is a home,' Faith thought as she took in her surroundings.
Turning to compliment her host on his home, she found herself alone. "Xander?"
"This is the bathroom." Quickly turning, Faith saw Xander standing halfway inside a doorway on the far side of the living room. "Okay," the Slayer said simply, unsure as to how she was to respond to the information.
"I was making sure there were towels and stuff." Xander moved back into the living room and headed toward the kitchen. "I put some pyjamas and.other clothes in there for you too." Even from across the room, Faith noticed a flash of sadness cross his face. "Um.there's.girly stuff in there too. I put them on the edge of the shower. I.I wasn't sure what you needed or wanted so you basically have the house selection."
For the billionth time, or so it seemed that night, Faith didn't know what to say. "Thanks." The fact that Xander hadn't looked at her once since they'd entered the apartment. While she was hardly an expert in body language, Faith did know guilt when she saw it. For some reason, Xander was feeling guilty for having her in his apartment.
Opening the fridge, Xander stuck his head inside and started rooting around. "I should have some food ready by the time your done. Take your time."
"Okay." It seemed that word was coming from her mouth a lot tonight. Faith was surprised at how.well.passive she was being. Part of it she knew was just weariness. The patrolling she'd done that night, the brief fight she'd had with the lone vampire she'd fought the entire night and finally, the confrontation outside Xander's apartment had taken a lot of out of her. She remembered a time, not all that long ago, when she could go for days without sleep, fighting demons every night and still have enough energy for a good fuck.
But her general case of exhaustion was only part of the reason she was letting Xander order her around. Another part was that she was surprised at how assertive Xander was being. Toward her. The last time they were alone.well, she had tried to kill him. That pretty much put her in control of that situation. In fact, every time she had been alone with Xander, for even a few minutes in some cases, he had been utterly passive. He'd always seemed like a puppy to her. Show him the least bit of attention and he'd wag his tail. 'And he always had a nice tail,' her mind supplied while her eyes automatically stared at the aforementioned 'tail'. Almost as soon as she realised where she was looking, Faith moved her eyes away and started moving toward the bathroom.
Entering the bathroom, she took the room in with a glance. Not small. Not huge. Big enough so that two people could use it at the same time with a minimum of conflict. It looked like a typical guy's bathroom. Razor lying haphazardly on the sink, hamper against the wall with a pair of dirty jeans and sock showing that it was just about laundry day. A stick of deodorant shared open shelf space with a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush.
The only things that didn't fit the messy manliness of the room were the folded clothes placed on the top of the closed toilet seat. Looking through them, Faith noted the basics. Underwear, regular panties, nothing fancy. A sports bra which she wasn't sure would fit her properly, but would try on, though she wouldn't sleep in it. 'Who sleeps in a bra?' The last item was actually two items. Red silk pyjamas. Bottoms and a dress shirt-like top. Reaching out to feel the material, Faith noticed how dirty her hands were. Her hands snapped back as if she'd burned herself.
Turning, the dark haired girl stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. 'You're hardly looking the seductive street-urchin'. Xander's comment about her appearance rang in her ears as she stared at herself in the mirror. "No shit," she muttered out loud as she took in the dirt on her face, the bags under her eyes and the general nastiness that was her hair. All in all, Xander had been generous. "I look like a fucking skrag."
With a sigh, Faith quickly striped down, doing her best to ignore the state of her clothes. Turning on the water, she set the temperature for as hot as she thought she could stand. As the bathroom slowly started to fill with steam, the Slayer removed her prison issue underwear and pulled the elastic band that she'd used to tie her hair back, swearing as she pulled out more then a few hairs from her scalp. Rubbing her head, Faith looked into the shower and blinked. When Xander had mentioned laying out 'girly stuff' for her, he wasn't kidding.
Looking over what must have been more then a couple of shelves worth of shampoos, conditioners, soaps, lotions and a half dozen things that she couldn't even take a guess at, Faith was both impressed and intimidated. Even before prison, her show accessories were confined to Irish Springs and Head N' Shoulders.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, the Slayer stepped into the shower and held herself still under the almost scalding water. Faith loved hot showers. It was one of the few things that she could enjoy behind bars that she did when she was free. In prison she'd wait until as long as she could until the communal showers were as empty and then stand under the hottest water that the California penal system could produce. Just shut her eyes and let the wet heat soak into her. She'd pretend that she was somewhere else then. Warm and safe.
She'd only been attacked in there once. The 'example' she'd set with those four women had earned her a trip to solitary and a wide berth from the rest of Gen-Pop. During her time in solitary Faith had figured that she'd just screwed herself with the guards and prison officials. Pegged her as a troublemaker from then on. After her week in 'the hole', she'd been taken directly to the warden's office. The man had calmly explained that two of the inmates that she'd 'assaulted' were still in the infirmary with broken ribs and bruised kidneys. The other two had only suffered dislocated shoulders and nasty bumps on the head.
Faith had sat there and listened as the warden described in great detail how one of the women had gone into shock because a broken rib was threatening to puncture a lung. The Slayer had kept silent throughout the report, keeping her eyes forward and focused on the sky outside. When the warden had stopped and looked at her, she'd simply said, "I'm sorry."
She'd said it so often since she'd turned herself in that it was quick becoming her motto.
The warden had then sat down at his desk and opened a file. Her file. Her mug-shots were clipped to the inside of the folder, along with her arrest record and various other bits and pieces of official information on just how badly she'd screwed up her life. The warden then proceeded to read it all to her. Her confession to the police about the various assaults she'd done while in LA, the two murders she'd committed in Sunnydale, the attempted murders of Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenburg, Xander Harris, and Wesley Wyndom-Price.
She'd considered confessing to trying to kill Angel and assisting in the attempted slaughter of the graduating class of Sunnydale High School, but she'd figured that they'd label her insane and toss her in a padded room. Prison was what she deserved so she'd held back.
Though, listening to the warden rattling it all off to her, Faith thought the list was more then long enough.
After her confession came her convictions. Faith prepared herself for the exact same list, but was shocked to hear that she'd only been convicted on one count of assault. Against the lawyer from Wolfram & Hart. There was absolutely no evidence to convict her of the murders in Sunnydale, and her confession wasn't enough. Wesley had not only not pressed charges, but had denied that she had anything to do with his obvious injuries. The attempted murders against the Scooby Gang were dismissed for lack of evidence as well.
The Mayor.
He'd fixed it so that her dirty work for him was completely covered up. Wes, probably out of misplaced guilt and pressure from Angel hadn't pressed charges. And if the cops in LA had let the Sunnydale PD conduct the investigations of her actions against Buffy, Willow and Xander.well it's hardly a surprise that there wasn't evidence to use against her. There was probably still a picture of her at the police station that said 'Untouchable'.
Everything she'd done. Her confession. Her willingness to pay of her crimes. All for nothing. The only thing they nailed her for was the beating of some dirty lawyer, probably one of the few things that she really didn't regret. Her entire attempt at redemption was a farce.
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
But the warden kept on reading. A report from the court shrink. 'Immense guilt. Inferiority complex. Possible abusive childhood.' A recommendation for leniency by Detective Katherine Lockley. 'Turned herself in. Complete disclosure. Remorseful.'
She was completely numb when the warden closed her file and looked up at her. "Faith, what happened in that shower?"
And so she told him. She just wanted to take a hot shower by herself. The women had come in. Started touching her. She told them to stop. One of them punched her. She told them to stop or she'd hurt them. They kicked her. She defended herself. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone that bad. I just wanted to be left alone," she finished, looking down at her cuffed hands.
"I believe you." Faith looked up to see the warden staring at her, his eyes wary but showing compassion.
"Why'd you put me in solitary then?" She'd asked a little more harshly then she wanted to. She waited for the slapdown.
The warden looked at her with a stern look. "Because that's the way things work here, Faith. You get in a fight, you get solitary." Faith couldn't hide her frown. "You should thank me for it. If you'd been released into the general population, the friends of the women that attacked you would have done their best to finish what they started. You'd either have ended up in the infirmary right beside them or with a lot of blood on your hands." Faith had looked up with steel in her eyes ready to tell him just how much blood she already had on her hands. "By now, word has spread about what happened. People have had time to think about it. Think about you. And just how much damaged you managed to do to 4 of the biggest bulls in here." The warden leaned back in his plush chair and looked at her. "You've got rep now, Faith. You can use it to make yourself comfortable here. Get a gang together. Generally, be a big pain in my ass. And if you go that route, I'll tell you now that you'll be here for the full seven years for your conviction. Not to mention anything else I can make stick to you." Hard eyes pinned Faith to her seat. "And trust me, I can make a lot of things stick. I can keep you here till you're dead, Faith. Fuck with me and the only way you'll leave this place is feet first."
The warden and Faith stared at each other over the space of the desk.
The Slayer finally let her gaze fall to the desktop, conceding victory to the middle age man across from her. "I don't want to cause any trouble," she muttered, slumping in her seat.
The warden smiled at her. A real smile. "Good. That means we can help each other." Faith's confusion receded as the warden explained about his outreach program. It had been tried before, a few times. Each time it failed because the inmates that joined it were targeted by the bulls as weak. Their willingness to admit their guilt and try to change was blood in the water. "I want you to be my Great White Hope, Faith."
"You want me to set an example..?"
"You're a hardass, Faith." The warden smiled at her again. "Whether you want it or not, a lot of the other inmates are going to be watching you now. If you join my outreach program, other's might feel more secure in joining it too" The warden levelled an honest look on her. "That doesn't mean you can kick the ass of anyone who says something you don't like. The same rules will apply to you that apply to everyone else." Faith was ready to ask what was in it for her then. She'd be painting a target on her back bigger then the one that was already there. Instead she closed her mouth and thought about it. "This is a chance, Faith." The warden looked at her expectedly. "Your example can help a lot of women move on with their lives. Women who would end up either dead or worse if they stayed too long here. You can be a leader or you can be another number. You can have influence.a good influence in here. What I have on you tells me that you were a fucked up kid that got caught up in some shit and reacted badly. Could have happened to anyone. But you're here now. And right now you start your life over again. You can either keep going on the way you were or you can change tracks and do some good. In here and out there."
Faith listened to the warden. Same rules would apply to her. If she fucked up, she'd end up in solitary, just like everyone else. But if she did good, she'd have protection. The guards would look out for her. She could be out of prison at her first parole hearing in two years with the right letters of recommendation from the warden and the guards.
More importantly to her though, she could help other people. That was what she was supposed to do. That was her destiny. She was a Slayer. She protected people. Her reputation as a bad ass could protect people for once. Women who wanted to change. To make amends. Like she wanted to.
In the end the warden's offer was a no brainer. She accepted.
It wasn't easy after that. No. She'd ended up in solitary 4 more times after that first time, defending people in her 'group'. Each time she went in the warden was there. "No good deed goes unpunished,' he would say to her each time he closed the door. "But good deeds are remembered." He would say to her after the door was closed.
Faith let out a long breath. The water poured over here and comforted her. Like it always had. Opening her eyes, visions of prison receded and she stared at the blue and white tiles of Xander's shower. Her time behind bars held both good and bad memories. But they were part of another world. The warden had told her so right before she walked out the gates. 'Take what you can from here, Faith. Leave behind what you can't.'
What she'd taken from prison was a small piece of the person she'd like to be. A protector. An example to others. A person who fought for people who couldn't do it themselves. She tried to leave behind the past. And then walked right back into it.
First she sought out Angel. The one who had offered her a hand after everything she had done. But he wasn't there. She'd searched, but couldn't find him. He'd vanished off the face of the earth it seemed. Cordelia was gone too. And Wesley. The only people she had any connection to in LA, even if though nothing but pain she'd brought on them, couldn't be found.
As she began to rub soap across her body, Faith thought about the choice she'd made after that. She could have stayed in LA and did her best to help people there. Or go off to a new city. A fresh start. Or go to the place where she had done the most damage, caused the most pain, and try to fix that. She'd used the last of her money to buy a bus ticket to Sunnydale and the home of her worst enemy.
And found no one.
Another man lived in Giles' apartment. Buffy's home was empty. A drunken man told her to fuck off at Xander's house. She didn't know where Willow lived.
With no money and no place to stay, she'd bunked down in an empty warehouse on the bad side of town. Used tepid water and harsh paper towels in a gas station washroom to keep clean, until she'd been chased off as a homeless person. Searched the dumpsters behind restaurants and coffee shops for enough food to keep going. Drank out of park water fountains for water. Dived in Salvation Army donation bins for clothes.
She'd finally found the punishment she'd looked for in prison, in the place where she'd hoped to find a measure of forgiveness. She would stay there, defending the apparently defenceless town until stale bagels and tap water weren't enough to keep her going and a vampire had themselves a real good day.
Then she bumped into Xander. Another man who had offered her his hand in help. Another victim. And he'd brought her into his home. Offered her a place to stay, if for only a night. Safety for a night. Not because he forgave her. But because there was nobody else to do it.
Washing her hair and cleaning herself off, Faith stepped out of the shower and stood naked in the bathroom. The water on her body cooled slowly as she wiped the condensation from the mirror above the sink. She stared at her reflection. Face flushed and clean, hiding the worst of the bags under her eyes. Hair clean and hanging free. Longer then it had been since she was a child.
She held no doubt that things would be strained between her and Xander. She knew the boy could hold a grudge from here to the end of time. And it probably wasn't even about her trying to kill him, though that was there. But that she'd tried to hurt Buffy and Willow. She represented a threat to his friends. His family.
Dressing slowly, Faith enjoyed the feel of clean clothes for the first time in a long while. The underwear fit just right. She stood there for a moment, again looking at her reflection in the mirror. She took a step back to really look at herself. Wearing only the panties, Faith gave her body a good look. Lost weight. Slayer metabolism was usually a good thing when she ate regularly. Kept her in fighting trim. But without the proper fuel, it had started eating away at her. She could see the outlines of her ribs. Her hipbones were sharper then used to be. Her collarbones were much more prominent then they used to be. Her skin was paler then usual, even under the rosy hue that the shower had given her. She'd lost a bit of muscle tone in her legs and arms.
Faith was a shell of what she used to be.
She finished getting dressed without looking at her reflection again. The silk felt so soft against her skin. The bottoms hung a bit, revealing the top of her panties. The top covered it though, hanging loosely over her and reaching her mid-thigh.
Faith imagined that she looked like a little girl dressed up in daddy's clothes.
Brushing her hair quickly with a brush on the sink, the Slayer left the bathroom in a rush, refusing to inspect her appearance. 'You're not trying to get laid,' she told herself as she exited the bathroom.
And right into the sight of Xander bending over to take something out of the oven. "Cuz this isn't complicated enough," she muttered as looked at the young man's denim clad ass. She licked her lips without thinking.
With the door shut, the apartment was completely dark. For a very brief moment, Faith felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. The dark had always been a bad place for her. It hid things. Things that wanted to hurt her. Vampires, demons, prison guards, run of the mill punks. Forgetting where she was for a second, the Slayer tensed as she felt a presence move around her.
A moment later, light flooded the room.
Xander moved past Faith, missing her tense stance as he dropped his keys on a table by the door and shrugged off his jacket. Tossing the garment on the back of a chair, he moved past the Slayer and into the living room. "If you want, go jump in the shower," he told her without looking back at her. "I'll put some clothes out for you to sleep in." Xander finally turned and saw Faith standing by the door. "We can throw your clothes in the laundry tomorrow." He took another look at her clothes, seeing just how threadbare and ill-fitting they were in the strong light of the apartment. "Or burn them. Your choice."
Faith adjusted her shirt without thinking, feeling slightly overwhelmed in the large apartment and realising that she wasn't looking her best. "Thanks," she said simply, choosing to ignore the crack about her clothes.
Stepping further into the living room, the ex-con took a good look at the space around her. The large entertainment unit took up an entire wall of the living room, shining glossy black and expensive. The kitchen table and chairs placed right by the windows that opened up to the courtyard outside probably gave an amazing view first thing in the morning and in the evening. The couch was large and looked comfortable, bookended by small endtables with lamps on them. The coffee table sat between it and the entertainment unit, covered in magazines and a few comic books. Close enough to put snacks within easy reach, but far enough away to be able stretch your feet out on the couch. Posters of old movies were framed and hung from the walls. More then that though, the place looked lived in. It was a home. The pair of boots left in front of the couch. The empty coffee cup on the kitchen table. The plate on the coffee table, a crust of toast now stale from sitting out there from morning. 'This is a home,' Faith thought as she took in her surroundings.
Turning to compliment her host on his home, she found herself alone. "Xander?"
"This is the bathroom." Quickly turning, Faith saw Xander standing halfway inside a doorway on the far side of the living room. "Okay," the Slayer said simply, unsure as to how she was to respond to the information.
"I was making sure there were towels and stuff." Xander moved back into the living room and headed toward the kitchen. "I put some pyjamas and.other clothes in there for you too." Even from across the room, Faith noticed a flash of sadness cross his face. "Um.there's.girly stuff in there too. I put them on the edge of the shower. I.I wasn't sure what you needed or wanted so you basically have the house selection."
For the billionth time, or so it seemed that night, Faith didn't know what to say. "Thanks." The fact that Xander hadn't looked at her once since they'd entered the apartment. While she was hardly an expert in body language, Faith did know guilt when she saw it. For some reason, Xander was feeling guilty for having her in his apartment.
Opening the fridge, Xander stuck his head inside and started rooting around. "I should have some food ready by the time your done. Take your time."
"Okay." It seemed that word was coming from her mouth a lot tonight. Faith was surprised at how.well.passive she was being. Part of it she knew was just weariness. The patrolling she'd done that night, the brief fight she'd had with the lone vampire she'd fought the entire night and finally, the confrontation outside Xander's apartment had taken a lot of out of her. She remembered a time, not all that long ago, when she could go for days without sleep, fighting demons every night and still have enough energy for a good fuck.
But her general case of exhaustion was only part of the reason she was letting Xander order her around. Another part was that she was surprised at how assertive Xander was being. Toward her. The last time they were alone.well, she had tried to kill him. That pretty much put her in control of that situation. In fact, every time she had been alone with Xander, for even a few minutes in some cases, he had been utterly passive. He'd always seemed like a puppy to her. Show him the least bit of attention and he'd wag his tail. 'And he always had a nice tail,' her mind supplied while her eyes automatically stared at the aforementioned 'tail'. Almost as soon as she realised where she was looking, Faith moved her eyes away and started moving toward the bathroom.
Entering the bathroom, she took the room in with a glance. Not small. Not huge. Big enough so that two people could use it at the same time with a minimum of conflict. It looked like a typical guy's bathroom. Razor lying haphazardly on the sink, hamper against the wall with a pair of dirty jeans and sock showing that it was just about laundry day. A stick of deodorant shared open shelf space with a tube of toothpaste and a toothbrush.
The only things that didn't fit the messy manliness of the room were the folded clothes placed on the top of the closed toilet seat. Looking through them, Faith noted the basics. Underwear, regular panties, nothing fancy. A sports bra which she wasn't sure would fit her properly, but would try on, though she wouldn't sleep in it. 'Who sleeps in a bra?' The last item was actually two items. Red silk pyjamas. Bottoms and a dress shirt-like top. Reaching out to feel the material, Faith noticed how dirty her hands were. Her hands snapped back as if she'd burned herself.
Turning, the dark haired girl stared at her reflection in the mirror above the sink. 'You're hardly looking the seductive street-urchin'. Xander's comment about her appearance rang in her ears as she stared at herself in the mirror. "No shit," she muttered out loud as she took in the dirt on her face, the bags under her eyes and the general nastiness that was her hair. All in all, Xander had been generous. "I look like a fucking skrag."
With a sigh, Faith quickly striped down, doing her best to ignore the state of her clothes. Turning on the water, she set the temperature for as hot as she thought she could stand. As the bathroom slowly started to fill with steam, the Slayer removed her prison issue underwear and pulled the elastic band that she'd used to tie her hair back, swearing as she pulled out more then a few hairs from her scalp. Rubbing her head, Faith looked into the shower and blinked. When Xander had mentioned laying out 'girly stuff' for her, he wasn't kidding.
Looking over what must have been more then a couple of shelves worth of shampoos, conditioners, soaps, lotions and a half dozen things that she couldn't even take a guess at, Faith was both impressed and intimidated. Even before prison, her show accessories were confined to Irish Springs and Head N' Shoulders.
With a sigh and a shake of her head, the Slayer stepped into the shower and held herself still under the almost scalding water. Faith loved hot showers. It was one of the few things that she could enjoy behind bars that she did when she was free. In prison she'd wait until as long as she could until the communal showers were as empty and then stand under the hottest water that the California penal system could produce. Just shut her eyes and let the wet heat soak into her. She'd pretend that she was somewhere else then. Warm and safe.
She'd only been attacked in there once. The 'example' she'd set with those four women had earned her a trip to solitary and a wide berth from the rest of Gen-Pop. During her time in solitary Faith had figured that she'd just screwed herself with the guards and prison officials. Pegged her as a troublemaker from then on. After her week in 'the hole', she'd been taken directly to the warden's office. The man had calmly explained that two of the inmates that she'd 'assaulted' were still in the infirmary with broken ribs and bruised kidneys. The other two had only suffered dislocated shoulders and nasty bumps on the head.
Faith had sat there and listened as the warden described in great detail how one of the women had gone into shock because a broken rib was threatening to puncture a lung. The Slayer had kept silent throughout the report, keeping her eyes forward and focused on the sky outside. When the warden had stopped and looked at her, she'd simply said, "I'm sorry."
She'd said it so often since she'd turned herself in that it was quick becoming her motto.
The warden had then sat down at his desk and opened a file. Her file. Her mug-shots were clipped to the inside of the folder, along with her arrest record and various other bits and pieces of official information on just how badly she'd screwed up her life. The warden then proceeded to read it all to her. Her confession to the police about the various assaults she'd done while in LA, the two murders she'd committed in Sunnydale, the attempted murders of Buffy Summers, Willow Rosenburg, Xander Harris, and Wesley Wyndom-Price.
She'd considered confessing to trying to kill Angel and assisting in the attempted slaughter of the graduating class of Sunnydale High School, but she'd figured that they'd label her insane and toss her in a padded room. Prison was what she deserved so she'd held back.
Though, listening to the warden rattling it all off to her, Faith thought the list was more then long enough.
After her confession came her convictions. Faith prepared herself for the exact same list, but was shocked to hear that she'd only been convicted on one count of assault. Against the lawyer from Wolfram & Hart. There was absolutely no evidence to convict her of the murders in Sunnydale, and her confession wasn't enough. Wesley had not only not pressed charges, but had denied that she had anything to do with his obvious injuries. The attempted murders against the Scooby Gang were dismissed for lack of evidence as well.
The Mayor.
He'd fixed it so that her dirty work for him was completely covered up. Wes, probably out of misplaced guilt and pressure from Angel hadn't pressed charges. And if the cops in LA had let the Sunnydale PD conduct the investigations of her actions against Buffy, Willow and Xander.well it's hardly a surprise that there wasn't evidence to use against her. There was probably still a picture of her at the police station that said 'Untouchable'.
Everything she'd done. Her confession. Her willingness to pay of her crimes. All for nothing. The only thing they nailed her for was the beating of some dirty lawyer, probably one of the few things that she really didn't regret. Her entire attempt at redemption was a farce.
She didn't know whether to laugh or cry.
But the warden kept on reading. A report from the court shrink. 'Immense guilt. Inferiority complex. Possible abusive childhood.' A recommendation for leniency by Detective Katherine Lockley. 'Turned herself in. Complete disclosure. Remorseful.'
She was completely numb when the warden closed her file and looked up at her. "Faith, what happened in that shower?"
And so she told him. She just wanted to take a hot shower by herself. The women had come in. Started touching her. She told them to stop. One of them punched her. She told them to stop or she'd hurt them. They kicked her. She defended herself. "I didn't mean to hurt anyone that bad. I just wanted to be left alone," she finished, looking down at her cuffed hands.
"I believe you." Faith looked up to see the warden staring at her, his eyes wary but showing compassion.
"Why'd you put me in solitary then?" She'd asked a little more harshly then she wanted to. She waited for the slapdown.
The warden looked at her with a stern look. "Because that's the way things work here, Faith. You get in a fight, you get solitary." Faith couldn't hide her frown. "You should thank me for it. If you'd been released into the general population, the friends of the women that attacked you would have done their best to finish what they started. You'd either have ended up in the infirmary right beside them or with a lot of blood on your hands." Faith had looked up with steel in her eyes ready to tell him just how much blood she already had on her hands. "By now, word has spread about what happened. People have had time to think about it. Think about you. And just how much damaged you managed to do to 4 of the biggest bulls in here." The warden leaned back in his plush chair and looked at her. "You've got rep now, Faith. You can use it to make yourself comfortable here. Get a gang together. Generally, be a big pain in my ass. And if you go that route, I'll tell you now that you'll be here for the full seven years for your conviction. Not to mention anything else I can make stick to you." Hard eyes pinned Faith to her seat. "And trust me, I can make a lot of things stick. I can keep you here till you're dead, Faith. Fuck with me and the only way you'll leave this place is feet first."
The warden and Faith stared at each other over the space of the desk.
The Slayer finally let her gaze fall to the desktop, conceding victory to the middle age man across from her. "I don't want to cause any trouble," she muttered, slumping in her seat.
The warden smiled at her. A real smile. "Good. That means we can help each other." Faith's confusion receded as the warden explained about his outreach program. It had been tried before, a few times. Each time it failed because the inmates that joined it were targeted by the bulls as weak. Their willingness to admit their guilt and try to change was blood in the water. "I want you to be my Great White Hope, Faith."
"You want me to set an example..?"
"You're a hardass, Faith." The warden smiled at her again. "Whether you want it or not, a lot of the other inmates are going to be watching you now. If you join my outreach program, other's might feel more secure in joining it too" The warden levelled an honest look on her. "That doesn't mean you can kick the ass of anyone who says something you don't like. The same rules will apply to you that apply to everyone else." Faith was ready to ask what was in it for her then. She'd be painting a target on her back bigger then the one that was already there. Instead she closed her mouth and thought about it. "This is a chance, Faith." The warden looked at her expectedly. "Your example can help a lot of women move on with their lives. Women who would end up either dead or worse if they stayed too long here. You can be a leader or you can be another number. You can have influence.a good influence in here. What I have on you tells me that you were a fucked up kid that got caught up in some shit and reacted badly. Could have happened to anyone. But you're here now. And right now you start your life over again. You can either keep going on the way you were or you can change tracks and do some good. In here and out there."
Faith listened to the warden. Same rules would apply to her. If she fucked up, she'd end up in solitary, just like everyone else. But if she did good, she'd have protection. The guards would look out for her. She could be out of prison at her first parole hearing in two years with the right letters of recommendation from the warden and the guards.
More importantly to her though, she could help other people. That was what she was supposed to do. That was her destiny. She was a Slayer. She protected people. Her reputation as a bad ass could protect people for once. Women who wanted to change. To make amends. Like she wanted to.
In the end the warden's offer was a no brainer. She accepted.
It wasn't easy after that. No. She'd ended up in solitary 4 more times after that first time, defending people in her 'group'. Each time she went in the warden was there. "No good deed goes unpunished,' he would say to her each time he closed the door. "But good deeds are remembered." He would say to her after the door was closed.
Faith let out a long breath. The water poured over here and comforted her. Like it always had. Opening her eyes, visions of prison receded and she stared at the blue and white tiles of Xander's shower. Her time behind bars held both good and bad memories. But they were part of another world. The warden had told her so right before she walked out the gates. 'Take what you can from here, Faith. Leave behind what you can't.'
What she'd taken from prison was a small piece of the person she'd like to be. A protector. An example to others. A person who fought for people who couldn't do it themselves. She tried to leave behind the past. And then walked right back into it.
First she sought out Angel. The one who had offered her a hand after everything she had done. But he wasn't there. She'd searched, but couldn't find him. He'd vanished off the face of the earth it seemed. Cordelia was gone too. And Wesley. The only people she had any connection to in LA, even if though nothing but pain she'd brought on them, couldn't be found.
As she began to rub soap across her body, Faith thought about the choice she'd made after that. She could have stayed in LA and did her best to help people there. Or go off to a new city. A fresh start. Or go to the place where she had done the most damage, caused the most pain, and try to fix that. She'd used the last of her money to buy a bus ticket to Sunnydale and the home of her worst enemy.
And found no one.
Another man lived in Giles' apartment. Buffy's home was empty. A drunken man told her to fuck off at Xander's house. She didn't know where Willow lived.
With no money and no place to stay, she'd bunked down in an empty warehouse on the bad side of town. Used tepid water and harsh paper towels in a gas station washroom to keep clean, until she'd been chased off as a homeless person. Searched the dumpsters behind restaurants and coffee shops for enough food to keep going. Drank out of park water fountains for water. Dived in Salvation Army donation bins for clothes.
She'd finally found the punishment she'd looked for in prison, in the place where she'd hoped to find a measure of forgiveness. She would stay there, defending the apparently defenceless town until stale bagels and tap water weren't enough to keep her going and a vampire had themselves a real good day.
Then she bumped into Xander. Another man who had offered her his hand in help. Another victim. And he'd brought her into his home. Offered her a place to stay, if for only a night. Safety for a night. Not because he forgave her. But because there was nobody else to do it.
Washing her hair and cleaning herself off, Faith stepped out of the shower and stood naked in the bathroom. The water on her body cooled slowly as she wiped the condensation from the mirror above the sink. She stared at her reflection. Face flushed and clean, hiding the worst of the bags under her eyes. Hair clean and hanging free. Longer then it had been since she was a child.
She held no doubt that things would be strained between her and Xander. She knew the boy could hold a grudge from here to the end of time. And it probably wasn't even about her trying to kill him, though that was there. But that she'd tried to hurt Buffy and Willow. She represented a threat to his friends. His family.
Dressing slowly, Faith enjoyed the feel of clean clothes for the first time in a long while. The underwear fit just right. She stood there for a moment, again looking at her reflection in the mirror. She took a step back to really look at herself. Wearing only the panties, Faith gave her body a good look. Lost weight. Slayer metabolism was usually a good thing when she ate regularly. Kept her in fighting trim. But without the proper fuel, it had started eating away at her. She could see the outlines of her ribs. Her hipbones were sharper then used to be. Her collarbones were much more prominent then they used to be. Her skin was paler then usual, even under the rosy hue that the shower had given her. She'd lost a bit of muscle tone in her legs and arms.
Faith was a shell of what she used to be.
She finished getting dressed without looking at her reflection again. The silk felt so soft against her skin. The bottoms hung a bit, revealing the top of her panties. The top covered it though, hanging loosely over her and reaching her mid-thigh.
Faith imagined that she looked like a little girl dressed up in daddy's clothes.
Brushing her hair quickly with a brush on the sink, the Slayer left the bathroom in a rush, refusing to inspect her appearance. 'You're not trying to get laid,' she told herself as she exited the bathroom.
And right into the sight of Xander bending over to take something out of the oven. "Cuz this isn't complicated enough," she muttered as looked at the young man's denim clad ass. She licked her lips without thinking.