2002
Sunnydale

Dawn blinked twice and stepped aside to let the dark-haired Slayer pass. She wasn't about to try to fight off Faith on her own. "Um...Spike? Buffy? Someone?"

Two blond heads poked into the room, and Buffy frowned, "Dawnie, what is--"

In a matter of seconds, Buffy was in front of Faith, her face frozen in a mask of stone, "Get out of my house, Faith."

"B., please. Don't freak out." Faith pleaded, and Buffy noticed for the first time how small the other Slayer looked.

"Faith?" She whispered, "What's going on?"

"Uh, parole, actually." Faith replied, "I could've gone to Angel, but I heard he had some stuff going on, and I had no place else to go." She shivered, and Dawn shut the door.

"Who's the shaky bird?" Spike whispered, watching as the two Slayers stared at eachother.

"Faith. Used to be a psycho. Other Slayer."

"Oh..." Spike nodded, getting a flash of the past ("Dark hair, yay tall. Name of Faith. Criminally insane.").

"So..." Buffy shifted, "How are you doing since...well, forever ago?"

"Five by five." Faith muttered, "Look, I just need someplace to sleep for the night. If you want, call Angel, he'll let you know you're safe."

Buffy shook her head, "Faith..."

"Please, Buffy."

The blond looked away for a second, then back to the woman who was such the opposite of herself, "OK. You can stay here."

Faith allowed herself a tiny twitch of a smile. "Thanks. Who's the guy in the leather?"

"Oh, now, that's a loooong story." Buffy said with a slow smile. She glanced back at Spike to find him heading back to the kitchen, oven mitt in hand. She could hear him muttering something about being domesticated. Buffy looked back at Faith, "I'll tell you all of it, soon."

2003
Los Angeles

Faith stood in the doorway of the bedroom she shared with Wesley, watching him dry his hair from the shower. His bare chest rippled with every movement, and she could see the scars from various battles standing out, white against the tan of his skin. She pushes back the usual guilt that always hits her every time she sees those scars, when she remembers the ones she caused herself. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to wipe visions of that night so, so long ago.

Wesley was in pain. She could see that, and she was satisfied. He was tied and gagged in a chair, his face covered in bruises, his body scattered with tiny cuts. Faith slowly paced in front of him, her boots making dull thudding sound with every heavy step. She looked over at her hostage, then grinned wickedly, hopping onto his lap. Wesley's scream was muffled by the gag. She licked two of her fingers and rubbed at a cut under his eye.

"All these little cuts and bruises," She murmured, so close, "just bring out the mother in me." As he slowly began to droop, she grabbed his face roughly in her hands, "Come on. Now, now, don't poop out on me, damn it! Otherwise this all just going to be over too fast, and you'll be dead and I'll be - bored. - Come on, Wesley! Where is that stiff upper lip?" She clucked her tongue and climbed off his lap "Now, we've only done one of the five basic torture groups. We've done blunt - but that still leaves sharp, cold, hot and loud. Have a preference?" Wesley looked up at her and nodded. Faith smiled and tore the gag away "Well, that's great! It's always better with audience participation. - May I take your order please?"

Wesley spat on the floor to her left.

"I was your Watcher, Faith. - I know the real you - and even if you kill me, there is just one thing I want you to remember."

"What's that, love?"

"You - are a piece of sh.."

Faith interrupted him, stuffing the gag back into his mouth: "You should talk, huh? I guess I'll just have to try a little harder."

She strode purposefully over to the table, picking up a picture frame. She smashed it against the surface and picked up a glass shard.

"We'll switch to sharp for a while."

That was years, and years ago. An eternity, really. After jail, then the insanity that followed her parole, Faith was forced to face the past. Wesley forgave her. All she had to do was forgive herself.

2002
Sunnydale

The table had an extra setting tonight. Faith's eyes were wide as she stared around the Summer's dining room, where she had eaten Christmas dinner with Joyce, her surrogate mother whom she had later tortured, all those years ago. She leaned back in her chair, and her eyes fell on the couple a few feet from her. She hadn't let the fact that Spike, as Buffy called him, was drinking blood.

"You're a vampire." The Slayer blurted out suddenly and Spike gave a her a 'duh' look.

"Yeah, just a little." He said with a smirk.

"He's neutered." Buffy said a little smugly. Spike shot her a mock-glare.

"I'm chipped." He corrected, "Government experiment."

Faith nodded in some sort of understanding, "Right." She settled her gaze on Dawn, "And you. You got really tall."

Dawn smiled, "Yeah..." She looked down, her thoughts wandering. Faith's false memories were evident, now. It unnerved her still when people remembered her past, and all she could think of was how they weren't real.

"Hey." Faith said suddenly, after a long pause, "Wait..." She narrowed her eyes, "Where's Joyce?"

A different silence settled. Thick with tension and memories. Buffy cleared her throat, "Mom died, last year. She had had a brain tumor, and there were complications."

Faith's eyebrows knitted together, "What? But she was...so healthy and--"

"It was an accident." Buffy said, "I'm sorry, we had no way of telling you or anything-"

"Jesus, B. don't apologize." Faith laughed humorlessly; "As if I expected you to keep in touch after the shit I pulled." She glanced at Dawn, and remembered her language, "Sorry."

Dawn blinked, "S'OK."

There was another long pause, and Faith spoke up again, "So...what else has happened?"

Three sets of eyes met, then looked at the brunette. Dawn shook her head, "How much time do you have?"

2003
Los Angeles

Wesley looked up and smiled at the figure in the doorway, "Spying on me?"

Faith returned the smile and came into the room, out of the shadows of the hallway, "Why spy when I can just ogle shamelessly?"

He shook his head with a chuckle, and held out his arms. Faith leaned into his embrace without hesitation, resting her cheek against the smoothness of his chest, "I was worried about you guys. I should have come with you."

"We held our own. It was just three V'Rosz demons. We didn't get too beaten up."

Faith shook her head and traced a fresh cut on his left shoulder with her fingertip, "You should bandage that."

"It's just a scrape." He protested. Faith smiled at his stubbornness and leaned up to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"I'm exhausted." She murmured against his mouth, "Come to bed?"

Wesley kissed her once more, "In a minute. I need to make a quick note about those demons and I'll be right back."

Faith rolled her eyes, "Always the watcher."

He winked at her before disappearing out into the dark hallway.