Title: Loose Ends
Author: Jane McCartney
Disclaimer: All the characters you recognize belong to Joss & co. (all hail the crackhead). I'm just fooling around with his universe, with no intention of making money or anything.
Classification: Buffy-Angel crossover
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes, please! Doesn't everyone want it?
Email: janemccartney@bol.com.br
Distribution: Anywhere, I don't mind, just credit me and inform me where it's at.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Theo, who actually made this project a viable one with his amazing and wonderful work â€" I'm truly grateful for your help with the English grammar and all the necessary adaptations. You're my savior.
Note: This is my very first attempt at fan fiction, and English is definitely not my native language, so I'd be happy if you guys didn't go too hard on me â€" please. I'm just doing the best I can here.
Summary: [Buffy-Angel Crossover] Xander shows up in Los Angeles, and brings with him a secret that'll lead him into dangerous territory. Can he cope with that? And his friends, will they be there for him?
***
Xander felt his senses and reason slowly returning to his body, and painfully filling the memory blanks of the previous night's horrible events.
Apparently, his constant prayers and pleas for everything that had happened to just be a bad dream hadn't exactly come true, because the room he was in didn't look like his apartment at all.
And the waist, which he was softly embracing with his arms, was definitely not Anya's.
Because he knew his fiancée's body too damn well, by this point of the game.
Anya's waist was lanky and delicately shaped, and it had soft skin with a mellow fragrance of jasmine, along with some cute freckles along her slightly tanned back.
But this one -
Oh, shit...
This one that his hands were resting on, was plainly not hers.
And Anya would certainly not be too pleased to know that.
Its shape clearly had more bends, and dangerous curves. This girl's skin had a slightly citric scent, remarkably different to his fiancée's jasmine aroma, and its muscles' rigidity were like a different kind of softness than Anya's smooth one, colored a milkier shade of white as well.
And then Xander realized who this was. Panicked about it, actually.
***
January, 1999. Sunnydale, California
A dark motel room, the weak moonlight and her shadow on his, a lithe female body molding itself all over his own.
Her powerful essence, her strong and overtaking presence â€" a Slayer's unique ability to do such things, to his overworked male hormones...
The fear, the excitement, the confusion, the danger, the sheer sexual heat this woman could generate...
"I'll steer you around the curves..."
***
Spring, 2002: Los Angeles, California
No doubt about it â€" this was Faith's body he was holding here.
What? H-how the-?!
Xander felt as if his mind was starting to scream at him, violent shouts and abrupt howls capable of waking up half of L.A. in a single second, if he'd voiced his outburst out loud.
Anya. Mad. Very mad. Visions of what she'd do, upon learning about this...
He. Was. A. Dead. Man.
Xander immediately got his hands off of the brunette Slayer's waist, and his last minutes of straight thinking during the previous night finally reached his mind, inducing panic and frenzied effects on his psyche.
Faith's sleepy voice instantly surprised the dark-haired time traveller. "Hey, stay on your side of the bed, would you?"
The Slayer's body didn't move one inch from the sheets, and Xander stared in utter confusion at her sleeping figure for what seemed like entire centuries.
"My side of the bed?" Xander confusedly blurted out.
"C'mon, just gimme five more minutes," a groggy Faith whispered, not really acknowledging her bed-partner's identity, blessed sleep still dazing her conscious mind.
"Uh, Faith, where the hell are we? And, what are we doing in bed *together*?!"
The brunette girl finally stood up and sat on the bed, a brief yawn escaping from her mouth. She was still feeling a little hazy and slightly lost, from being woken up so suddenly like that.
An impetuous urge came over her to immediately silence whoever'd had the unpleasant job of waking her up, without even considering her natural bad mood â€" as she was definitely not a morning person.
But there was two things that actually made her forget that impulse, quicker than the blink of an eye.
Firstly, Faith realized that this was the first time in a very long while that she wasn't waking up in jail and her tiny, suffocating cell. And the sunlight was actually once again fully greeting her with its warming presence, and not with the irritating deformed squares and rectangles which the goddamn cell's bars just *had* to always form on the floor.
And, to be completely honest, she felt really good about that.
But the second thing wasn't so nice, though it wasn't exactly bad either. It was just...
Huh.
Confusing.
What the hell...
Unanticipated.
Damn!
Unexpected, too.
After all â€" what was she doing completely naked, in the same bed with a shirtless Xander Harris?
What the hell had she *done* with him, this being a more appropriate question.
Xander and Faith slowly gazed at each other, turning their heads to find the other's intensely scared and very wide stare at them; a brief moment of silence filling their thoughts with surprise, confusion and puzzlement.
And then they both finally screamed out loud, as they clumsily fell out of their bed.
***
The hotel room was small, but strangely comfortable. Despite its cheap price, the accommodations weren't dirty or stuffy, and it didn't have soiled lipstick-covered cups from former patrons or unsanitary bed sheets either.
Which was certainly to be expected from a place called 'Big Aunt Mona's Hotel', which had considerably large posters in the front lounge that proclaimed Friday's as the day which the hotel TV would be showing Jerry Springer reruns, no extra charge.
Old bulls and catfights from crazy people working out their issues on national television? A priceless offering, to be sure.
The room was divided into two smaller sections, and Faith and Xander were in one of them, silently drinking their mugs of coffee at that moment.
Which the *lovely* Big Aunt Mona had personally brought to them, with that big, wide smile on her chubby face. And an odd white kitchen's apron with a smile-y face in the middle of it, right on top of her bellybutton, at precisely 9:00 a.m.
Xander and Faith had been sitting in complete silence for quite a while, and the whole scene was starting to get either jocular, or just very sickening and tiring for them.
When Faith diverted her gaze, Xander stared at her; and when she looked back at him, it was his turn to look away.
And vice versa, several times over.
They could have passed the entire day with that foolish game; but, to both Xander's and Faith's happiness and relief, the ex-construction worker decided to screw formality and talk first.
Break the queer silence that had been created since they'd babbled incoherently, and the former Zeppo and the Slayer had both fallen from the bed, until Big Aunt Mona had brought them coffee and biscuits.
"We, uh, we didn't really do it, did we?" Xander asked nervously, promptly averting his gaze from Faith's.
"Nah... no, I'd have remembered. I mean, I know I'd..." the brunette Slayer replied, though her obvious uncertainty only made Xander's own insecurity increase exponentially.
Xander and Faith sighed heavily at the exact same time, and exchanged a brief chuckle. But then they quickly remembered their current odd situation, and promptly silenced themselves again.
And then, the brunette Slayer started to feel something really *odd* going on inside of her body.
It felt like if she had just come out of a three-day drunken bender, and a really huge one at that.
It was as if her mind was suddenly going at a thousand miles an hour, and the world was rapidly spinning around her â€" a dizzying sensation, to be sure.
Maybe it was the added energy from the coffee, or maybe it was her getting out of that previous groggy state that officially came with being a non- morning person.
But, quick as a flash, Faith's memory suddenly started to recall everything. And the brunette girl lowered her mug and didn't take the next bite of her cookie, that was left hanging in the air with her raised hand close to her mouth.
"Faith?" Xander insecurely questioned the girl's sudden twisted features.
But Faith stayed silent, gazing intensely at Xander. His eyes were once again focused on the brunette woman as he said, "Oh no â€" we did it, didn't we?"
"Well..." Faith began, not really knowing how to follow on from her own words.
"Well what?" the dark-haired young man replied, his rushed words almost impossible to follow, and the sound suddenly seemed very amusing to the Slayer.
Wellwhat, wellwhat, wellwhat.
Man, am I definitely needing to cut back on the coffee, the brunette rebuked herself, and her confused thoughts.
After all, she was finding Xander's 'wellwhat' amusing, for God's sake.
"Well," Faith paused, sighing dramatically. "We didn't really *do* it, ya know? Not exactly, anyway," the Slayer added gingerly, looking around the room as if she was purposefully trying to divert her eyes away from his.
Xander raised his eyebrows with a certain spark of unease and consternation, and his words were direct and prompt, though they were spoken somehow calmly and pointedly. "Okay Faith, so what the hell's your precise definition of 'not exactly'?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry you're upset, Xander! I mean, what if I'd gotten pregnant last night? Geez, it's not like you don't have an excuse â€" 'cause, you know, you were pretty out of it with all those drugs they gave you, remember? It happens to a lot of guys, really," Faith blurted out, suddenly sounding very serious.
The young man's face twisted in sudden tension and chagrin, and Xander didn't know where to direct his gaze to avoid Faith's pitying glance at him.
It was a merciful one too, as if she was offering a sympathizing look at him. Even though Xander was simply unsure if this was what he was actually seeing at that moment.
Alexander Lavelle Harris would have been damn well glad if he'd never been born, at that exact interminable moment of silence.
These thoughts were becoming more and more amusing, much to the Slayer's entertainment, and finally Faith wasn't able to hold it in anymore and burst out in unexpected gale of laughter.
Xander promptly sent a murderous look at the laughing brunette girl. "Oh, you bitca! Do you have any idea what *that* can do to a man? I almost bought your little song 'n dance act, ya know?!"
"Hey, don't be so mad, boy toy... it was worth it, believe me, the look on your face was pretty much priceless," Faith grinned, bitingly.
"And," she added with an evil smirk, "a girl needs to have her fun, sometimes."
Xander could have been immensely and monstrously mad at her, at that exact moment.
But seeing the rough Slayer laughing so freely and with no apparent hatred for him *and* herself, which was the most important thing after all, that was just something that didn't allow him to actually stay upset for any length of time.
"You knew we didn't do anything the whole time, and you just wanted to see me suffer, didn't you?" Xander snorted suspiciously.
"Ha, but no. It sorta popped into my mind right now, just like that," the brunette Slayer made a gesture with her hand, snapping her fingers. "And personally, I'd blame the coffee for that."
"OK, fair's fair. But what the hell happened, anyway?" Xander asked, obviously trying to push the subject and get as detailed an explanation as possible.
'Cause then, when the time came, he'd be able to give an acceptable account to Anya about the why's and wherefore's of the previous night's happenings.
Hopefully.
Xander sighed. He just hoped he could actually have a future, with his fiancée.
Faith finally finished off her cookie, and took a large gulp of black coffee with milk. It wasn't the fanciest breakfast, or a five star hotel's finest food, but it was surprisingly appetizing, actually.
"OK, stud, here's what happened..."
***
[The previous night]
"C'mon, Xand, just lemme take your shirt off here, okay? God, what the hell did those bastards give you at that hospital, anyway?"
Xander muttered something Faith didn't quite understand, and the Slayer's features bent into a funny expression.
The brunette girl had at least succeeded in taking Xander's jacket off so far â€" and, despite her natural Slayer strength, that'd been a hard job to be sure.
The young man's body was like totally reluctant to cooperate with her, and an unexpected flying arm just *had* to slap her shoulders, back and face every goddamn time she wasn't looking.
And then, suddenly, Faith blushed as a realization crossed her mind.
Perhaps too many nights in a women's prison were the explanation for her thoughts, when Xander's well-built naked chest finally showed itself.
There had been many long, bleak and suffocating evenings when the brunette Slayer had had no chance to... release some stress, one could say.
That is, if she wasn't willing to start playing for the other team, so to speak â€" as had many in the crowd of female inmates that, just like her, found themselves needing to search for any source of comfort in their abhorrent situations.
Or when Daniel, a cute, twenty-something guard wasn't on duty for the night shift. Which actually had gradually become more and more rare, till it'd ended completely.
For the brown-haired man had started patrolling L.A.'s streets, doing what the older cops apparently liked to call 'the real job' â€" after what, five secret meetings with her?
Maybe it had been more â€" perhaps six, or seven such encounters â€" but certainly not enough for Faith's liking.
And also, maybe it was the entire craziness that her life appeared to be currently going through, what with the prophecy about Angel's coming downfall and the mixed feelings about that which were ascending inside of her.
What the hell, maybe it was the complete sense of confusion â€" the lack of certainty inside her about her mission; nothing other than the absence of the purest primal Slayer sense of duty and rightness.
Faith had to kill Angel.
Kill. Angel.
The man who'd saved her soul. The vampire she'd tried to stake more than once, and even begged to kill her.
It didn't matter how many times she'd kept that play rolling around inside her head, it still didn't sound real or believable.
Or maybe it did, in fact. And Faith didn't like that at all.
Was it denial? Fury? Plain cowardice?
Fear? But from what?
Her feelings?
Herself?
A hopeless world, that existed now only in her memories?
Well, how the hell should she know? Nobody had exactly given her time to think about any of this. It was just crazy â€" because there was simply no other road to be taken. Period.
That's my biggest test, Faith thought. And my failure'll mean the world's downfall.
Fair much? And who cared?
Angel. Going bad. Having to kill him.
Wait a goddamn minute here. Didn't he save my life? Save me from myself?
She remembered the words before coming back from the future, "Uh-uh. No questions, Slayer. He's gonna go Bad. Ain't no one can stop it. Kill him."
But-
"No. No 'but'. World's ashes if there's a but. And it'll be all your fault. Yours and Harris's. Don't think. Just do it."
And then, that was it. It wasn't as if this was anyone's fault, really. Of course she wanted to find that anyone, and hate him with every fiber of her body.
Faith had wanted to scream, to punch the bastard who'd sent her to kill a good man like Angel, to slay him and tell herself that his horse hockey couldn't be true.
Despite all the horrors that she'd heard were happening, outside the prison.
It couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true.
"Who the hell do you think you are, you asshole? We're talking about Angel, he's the good guy! He's the hero!"
But no answer had been forthcoming â€" because there'd been no concrete enemy this time, no ugly demons, or sharp weapons and spells, just a declining and conceptual ramp of savagery and abstract thought.
Perhaps it had been all those topics together, mixed up in a big, messy soup of confused feelings and dazed thoughts â€" but that it had made Xander Harris a target for her hormones at that crazed, practically unreal moment, that was just undeniably true.
Oh boy, and how. Definitely. And it would have turned out to be the one acceptable truth for the Slayer's utterly stressed mind to cling to, at that instant.
Because after all that time in prison, Faith was sure that this time around â€" she'd damn well make it last longer than 7 minutes.
But then she, Faith the vampire Slayer, Queen of Bitchiness, a founding member of the 'I don't give a damn' club, had actually blushed â€" very much to her own bafflement, to be sure.
Because it was zipper time.
"Xand, I could use a little help now, 'kay? Stay still, and be a good boy..."
Her voice was shy and low, and Faith immediately rebuked herself mentally. Oh, spare me, Faith! He isn't even aware of what's going on around him, for God's sake!
Xander groggily moaned something impossible for the brunette Slayer to understand, and the girl laughed nervously, her cranky and unsure voice tensely filling the previous stillness in the silent atmosphere of the room.
Not getting anywhere, the beautiful brunette sighed. Heavily. "Okay, what the hell â€" I need you to work with me here, alright? We'll just move your hand to the zipper..."
Belligerently, in a sudden movement, Xander's arm flew out and hit Faith straight on the bellybutton. "Hey!" she blurted out defensively and dropped him onto the bed.
But when the Slayer turned to face the dark-haired boy again, a shirtless Xander Harris was sleeping peacefully, jeans still on and a peaceful gaze staring into Faith's face.
Oh, crap, she thought, tautly. That's like he's unconsciously getting revenge on me or something, and he's just loving it!
Faith finally decided that the young man wouldn't die if he slept one day with his pants on, and simply gave up trying to undress him.
She took off all her clothes and searched for the little motel room's wardrobe, but found nothing. Cursing in frustration and tiredness, the brunette girl looked around once again and ultimately stopped her search, convinced that she would have to sleep with her jeans and top on after all.
Which was great, as once she started running like a crazy â€" or a fugitive, which in fact she was â€" she certainly wouldn't leave sweaty, smelly clothes behind afterwards.
And, what just made everything so much better and pleasant â€" this crappy little motel room didn't even have a bathtub or a shower.
I'm sure that a girl who's literally stinking would turn any man on! Faith snarled sarcastically, remembering her previous lusty thoughts about Xander â€" and actually letting a small smile appear on her lips, wondering about the scene with a certain dose of amusement.
The state of the two of them â€" and this, their first encounter, after years without even seeing each other's faces.
Their lives, and how they'd changed were at the very least comical â€" a groggy, sedated and diagnosed mental patient, and a sweating prison escapee.
Which was a result of running from the cops and hospital security, with clothes that were actually stolen from an teenager's abandoned closet and about two sizes too small for her.
Guess not *everything's* changed, after all, Faith concluded, looking in the direction of the dark pants, tight top and leather jacket and boots. They looked just like something that her former self would have worn, at any hour of the day.
Standing at the middle of the motel room, as naked as the day she was born â€" no way in Hell had she kept her jail underwear, or stolen a stranger's either â€" Faith sent one more look at Xander's sleeping persona, and chuckled.
Like that, with his jeans on and some dark locks of hair falling clumsily across his face, Xander had an almost angelic appearance; something natural, in a person who's caught in deep slumber's peace and stillness.
It didn't even seem like what they'd lived through during those previous frantic hours was actually real, what with the whole craziness of that situation with Angel and its consequences in both of their lives.
And with him ending up in a shrink's office at St. Matthew's, accused of causing Cordelia Chase's injuries, Faith pretty much guessed Xander's life wasn't exactly being a blissful one either.
The brunette girl released a brief yawn and her vision started to blur, already diverted from the young man â€" along with her thoughts, too.
Rapidly, weariness and fatigue seemed to be reaching her mind with an almost impossible speed. And, before her brain could even register it, her body fell down on the bed for support and the sensation of delight was practically priceless.
Damn, but I could stay in this exact same position for the rest of my life...
Every part of her tired physique seemed to match perfectly with the fluffy texture of the pillow, and the sheet's softness made her feel as if she was in Heaven.
And at that instant of comfort where her exhausted body found rest, Faith even thought that she was, ipso facto, finally in Heaven.
Just five minutes, Faith thought, while her petite body was finding an incredibly comfortable position on the bed, next to Xander's. Just five minutes of rest...
And the next thing she knew, there was nothing left but the intriguing world of unconscious and turbulent dreams, that the vicious and marvelous sensation of sleeping was bringing to her.
***
The next day
"That's what happened?" Xander asked, still seeming a little uncertain about it all.
"No. Truth is, aliens forced us into having wild animal sex all night, for their version of 'Candid Camera'," Faith replied, with an indistinct hint of irony.
The former Zeppo stared at her blankly and the Slayer sighed, letting her hand fall through the empty air along with her mug of coffee. "Of course that's what happened! What, like it's not enough for you?"
Faith automatically regretted having said that, but it was too late by then. She could only hope that it didn't sound as bad to Xander's ears as it did to hers.
"No, o-of course it's enough for me! I, I wouldn't want anything else, I mean, with you. That's 100% enough."
Faith raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah! I mean God, you're certainly a beautiful woman, and you were my first..."
Faith smirked at that.
"That's not what I meant, but, it-it wouldn't be right, ya know? I-I, if I wasn't me, I mean if I wasn't engaged, I'd probably have gone for it, but that's..." the young man babbled incoherently, and the brunette's amusement only increased.
"You would have gone for it? With little old me?" she asked in a sultry voice.
"Hey, knock it off!"
"What?" Faith replied, with a faked innocence.
"You know what I'm talking about. You're doing this on purpose! Like that... business from earlier. When you told me we had... you know, danced the mattress mambo or whatever."
"Mattress mambo?"
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case," Xander retorted, and Faith finally gave up.
"OK, so maybe I was trying to have some fun. No big," she said, taking a large gulp of coffee.
They locked eyes for a brief instant, and started to grin at each other in silence. The young man then said, "So you've been sent back to kill Angel too, huh? Tough job they've loaded us with."
Faith promptly choked on her biscuit and gazed at Xander, who was simply taking another bite from his sandwich. As if he had just passed some banal comment on the weather, or the latest episode of 'Survivor'.
"And you're completely cool with that?" she replied, her incredulity barely hidden.
"Faith," Xander began, as his voice took a darker tone. Looking straight into her eyes, so that the brunette Slayer had to bite her tongue not to yelp in consternation.
Those eyes... they were like an abyss of haunted anger and bottomless woe.
And that was like nothing she'd ever seen inside Xander Harris before.
"I'm not exactly willing to do it, but somebody's got to, right? And since there wasn't anyone better left alive in the future to do the job, the luck's all ours. Or rather, mine."
Faith started to say, something, but Xander interrupted. "Now, I'm pretty sure that killing Deadboy will be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do in my entire life; and, what the hell, it'll probably be the last one too..."
"What?"
"Bottom line is even if I manage to get out of this alive, I know I'll lose my old life â€" as well as my friends, and probably Anya along with it. So I quite honestly don't see any great difference between living and dying, after Angel's dust here."
Faith's mouth tried to say something, anything â€" but the brunette girl was completely silent. She couldn't even think of something to say at that moment, as her mind seemed to suddenly draw a complete blank.
Her confused web of contradictory feelings, her recognition and identification with Xander's sorrow â€" all of that was visible on her face, without the need of any words to say it out loud.
"Look, Faith, my life's been pretty much a living hell for weeks, and I think you know as well as I do that there's nothing else left to do now â€" that things won't get any better. Prophecy's a bitch, huh?"
"Xander..."
"Lemme finish. Saying that there isn't a single moment where I wished I was just dreaming the whole goddamn thing, that Overbite was just a creepy, distant memory from the past and Deadboy can just brood or do whatever he does nowadays â€" now, that would be an understatement. But if there's one thing I've learned ever since he lost his soul, it's that there's no point in closing your eyes and trying to wish your problems away."
"But killing him for something he hasn't even done yet?"
Xander shrugged. "That's my so-called mission now, and I'm sure your story is as much of a soap opera as mine, but it's what we gotta do. 'Cause I don't wanna have to stake Anya again in a few months, after he turns her..."
Faith stared at him intently, though she was shaking real hard inside. The truth was, that the brunette Slayer was scared.
The girl just knew that it didn't matter what he'd say next, 'cause she already knew what she had to do. And that was precisely what scared her the most, and made her wanna scream at the top of her lungs.
"There won't be one freaking single minute in which I'll be rid of the guilt, his face'll haunt me forever â€" but I'm gonna do it, Faith. I'm gonna kill him and I'll need your help," Xander paused for the first time, looking down at the table and averting his eyes from Faith's.
"I just wish there was some other way, any way, to let you out of this, but I know I can't risk it. I'm sorry..."
A minute of silence reigned, until Faith finally spoke. Calmly too, to her own surprise. "Xander, call me when you want to get some helpless girl to wake up Angel's lust for blood, would ya?"
The dark-haired young man looked at her in confusion, and it was his turn to be silent now.
"Geez, it's not like this is your fault in the first place! We were *both* chosen for this, and I know how it's like to be in your shoes, just like you know how it's like to be in mine. You don't need to feel sorry for me, Xandman."
"But-"
"This time, you let me finish! We're the same, now â€" two people sent back on some insane mission, to save the world! That's how things are going to be for awhile, till we fix this whole stupid Angel situation. And â€" like it or not â€" I'm gonna have to stick with you till then, okay?"
"I, I guess."
They stood again in utter silence for several moments, the only noise heard being their intense breathing and the movement of the food and coffee in their mouths.
"How did you know I was coming?" Faith suddenly asked.
Xander turned his gaze back to the brunette's. "Huh?"
"You know, you didn't question me being here â€" not even once. Aren't you at least curious? How did you know I came back from the future too, to stop Angel? How did you know that?"
Faith's intense glance was questioning him, and so Xander returned her gaze and stopped eating his breakfast â€" which, at that point, was practically nothing but a small piece of sandwich and a sole gulp of coffee and milk in his mug.
"I was told someone else would be coming," he replied pointedly.
"You *knew* I'd be along for the ride? So why the hell didn't you wait for me? What, the plan was to call attention to yourself and get locked up as a freaking lunatic? And what about Cordelia? I mean, if I was coming, why'd ya bring Vision Girl into this?"
Faith's explosion automatically made Xander get into a defensive position. "Hey, now wait a minute! I thought they'd given up on sending someone else, or they weren't able to, or something â€" I don't know! I waited for hours! And also, I didn't know it was gonna be you! Besides, even if I had known, what was I supposed to do? Huh? To wait and what, dance the macarena while letting them get to Angel first, by stopping us? Whoever the hell they are, anyway..."
The brunette Slayer and the dark-haired young man then sighed loudly, in perfect unison.
"I'm sure you'd be a kick-ass macarena dancer," Faith mumbled, as Xander sent another murderous glance at her.
They locked eyes again for an instant, apparently neither of them knowing exactly what more could be said. The awkward silence didn't last much longer, though.
"I know I was stupid for bringing Cordelia into this mess, but at the time I didn't exactly see any another alternative. It was stupid, and God knows *I* know that too. I almost got her dead, and when Cordy next saw me she started to scream her head off, saying I had actually tried to kill her..."
For one ephemeral moment, Faith thought she'd seen Xander's eyes fill with unshed tears. He never cried a single drop, though. But his haunted eyes were pretty obvious to her.
"She kept screaming that, over and over... and over and over... ah, shit!" Xander suddenly exploded, finding it hard to control his feelings anymore.
The shocked Slayer almost jumped out of her chair on account of the sudden outburst, but that didn't seem to get Xander's attention for a second.
"Damn it! This is so not right!" the young man kept murmuring, again and again. "This is just so not right! This isn't goddamn fair or anything!"
"Hey," Faith offered, putting her hand on his shoulder. "It's OK, that's always been a crazy situation with you two anyway. But I'm gonna need you focused, alright? I'm here with ya, Xandman, but I can't do this by myself..."
Once again, silence and its utter placidity overtook the scene.
"I'm sorry for bringing Cordelia into this. It was a low blow," Faith finally said, looking a little ashamed.
Xander raised his eyes at hers. "Nah. We're all screwed up, after all."
"Right," the Slayer announced, raising her mug and what was left inside, which was a little bit of milky coffee. "Three cheers for our being screwed up, then."
Xander looked at her confused at first, but then raised his mug as well. "To being screwed up, then..."
The noise of the mugs being pushed against each other was heard, and the two young people caught out of time shared a look of complicity.
The truth was, they didn't really want to persist in pursuing any of their painful memories any longer. And Faith and Xander knew there'd be harder times ahead where they'd not be able to handle it and explode at each other, but that they'd deal with it then.
They also had to leave the safe haven of this hotel room soon.
After all, there was still a mission to fulfil and a world to be saved.
They exchanged one last look at each other and turned their attention back to their coffees, which miraculously hadn't gotten cold yet.
And when Faith brought her mug to her mouth, hot liquid accidentally splashed along her chin and she yelped in sudden pain, automatically bringing her empty hand to her skin and rubbing it. "Damn!"
Xander promptly searched for something to help her clean herself up, but found nothing. He then took out of his jacket the first thing he'd remembered he had and offered it to Faith, who could only raise a skeptical eyebrow in return.
"Uh, Xand, thanks, really â€" but I don't think a used tissue will be a lot of help, y'know? And, gross! God, don't you know what a napkin's like? You know, a white square made of thin paper..."
The young woman was getting out of her chair to make her way to the bathroom to wash her face and get rid of the remaining vestiges of coffee and milk, when something caught her attention.
Xander was looking at the handkerchief he had just offered to Faith moments ago. And the brunette Slayer saw his features change suddenly, becoming a darkened shadow of their previous selves â€" which automatically made her innards shiver strongly.
"What is it, Xander?"
When the brunette girl didn't get an answer, she felt her blood freezing in her veins. And, despite her nervousness, Faith managed to snap herself out of her little fugue and grab the item out of Xander's hand.
There was red blood on it, along with the dried blood that she was now recognizing as the supposed stain she'd thought it was earlier, from a leaky pen or something similar. She'd thought it was anything but blood, actually.
Xander instinctively took off his jacket, and a darker spot was staining his T-shirt's usual black coloration.
Raising the T-shirt to chest height, red blood seemed to paint his skin in its captivating and at the same time horrifying color, making Faith recoil in sudden shock.
"You're wounded," the Slayer stated absent-mindedly.
All at once, her mind was screaming at her so loud that the fact that she'd managed to speak was already almost a miracle.
Faith didn't know why this was reaching her heart and making it twist so painfully, but the fact that it was happening was enough to make the Slayer realize this unanticipated ache and, then, understand it.
The thing was, Xander and herself weren't exactly best buddies when she'd gone to jail, and they hadn't been best friends at any other time either.
As far as Faith was concerned, trying to kill your lover wasn't exactly something to fulfil the specific prerequisites of friendship, along with kicking him out of your motel room after sleeping with him just to unwind a little.
Oh, well. These old-fashioned rules...
OK, so apart from Angel maybe the guy did matter more to her than any other member of Buffy's little crew of freaks. And the brunette Slayer had even thought once that they'd had a hell of a lot in common â€" abusive parents, feelings of being the outsider and excess baggage within the Scooby gang...
Not that they had shared this with anybody, of course. But a screw-up can easily recognize one of his own, even if he or she tries to hide it by making jokes and diverting attention away from their problems.
Or going crazy and deciding it'd be fun joining forces with Evil, and fulfil secret fantasies after years of solitude and nobody really giving a damn about you.
Both of them had wondered more than once, about what might have been if Xander had been able to get through to Faith that night â€" if she'd never gotten lost to the dark side of the Force...
Would it have been her wearing Xander's engagement ring now, instead of Anya?
In any case, the truth was that seeing him hurt had harmed Faith as well. It couldn't get simpler than that.
Pain's a simple, direct topic for all people; it's the one thing that affects everybody as equal individuals in the end, in this material and superficial world of human beings.
All its consequences are the real challenge; but its primal, savage attack doesn't select its victims by race, religion, sex or nationality.
Rather, by their inner strength and power to stand up before it.
And it didn't necessarily follow that the man who had it inside of him to powerfully battle against the odds, till his last drop of blood and never giving up for those who he loved, would turn out to be a winner against pain.
"Lemme see," Faith offered without really expecting an answer, rapidly moving closer to Xander's chair and examining the wound. "How the hell did you get this? It wasn't bleeding last night, that's for sure. I'd have seen it..."
Xander growled softly in pain, but just bit his lips to stifle a yell of pain while a sharp pang passed through his body.
"Checking out the old Xandman's physique last night, eh?" he tried to smirk, but the pain was becoming too intense when it started to seem that just to pronounce a mere word would mean a lifetime of suffering and woe.
"Dream on, pal," the brunette girl sighed sourly, but her features got a troubled expression then. "Man, that's just like so typical of you..."
"What?"
"Getting into trouble. I mean, didn't you ever hear when you were a child to keep a mile away from a beehive?" Faith said, looking very serious. "Nobody should play with a beehive. It's evil."
Despite his sudden pain, Xander chuckled in slight confusion. "You don't like bees, huh? I've gotta admit, you Slayers can be a real puzzle..."
Faith shook her head promptly. "Nuh-uh. My problem's with the honey. Winnie the Pooh loved it, and *he's* evil," she shivered, as if a horrible image was going through her mind. "I don't trust him. Too sweet and cute, you've gotta keep an eye on that kinda thing."
Xander just shook his head in amusement, even when the now-familiar feeling of pain still seemed to make his skin erupt into a blaze of aching flames.
Faith's serious expression didn't change at any time, and the young man watched her hands delicately cleaning the wound with a towel courtesy of Big Aunt Mona's hotel, one that she had found in the nearby closet.
"Where did you get these bruises?" Faith demanded. "And this wound here's lookin' wicked bad. You coulda died from a sudden hemorrhage or something, you know that?"
The brunette Slayer's voice was sounding angry to Xander. He slowly got up off of his chair, searching for her shoulders to support himself.
"It's nothing, Faith, really. I'm surprised it's bleeding this much, 'cause I hadn't felt anything till now, seriously! It's just a souvenir of some demon I've had the pleasant experience to bump into. Uh, demons actually. Plural," Xander snorted sarcastically, but the young woman didn't seem to have bought his lame story about his injuries.
Faith was about to respond with an angry reply, but a knock on the door that made the entire structure of the old wooden edifice shake violently stopped her.
The young couple exchanged a worried look â€" but before they could think of anything to say, the rough but over-the-top friendly voice of Big Aunt Mona was heard on the other side of the door, in the hotel's hallway.
"Hey, kids! Listen up, your faces are all over the goddamn TV!"
***
Author: Jane McCartney
Disclaimer: All the characters you recognize belong to Joss & co. (all hail the crackhead). I'm just fooling around with his universe, with no intention of making money or anything.
Classification: Buffy-Angel crossover
Rating: PG
Feedback: Yes, please! Doesn't everyone want it?
Email: janemccartney@bol.com.br
Distribution: Anywhere, I don't mind, just credit me and inform me where it's at.
Acknowledgements: Thanks to Theo, who actually made this project a viable one with his amazing and wonderful work â€" I'm truly grateful for your help with the English grammar and all the necessary adaptations. You're my savior.
Note: This is my very first attempt at fan fiction, and English is definitely not my native language, so I'd be happy if you guys didn't go too hard on me â€" please. I'm just doing the best I can here.
Summary: [Buffy-Angel Crossover] Xander shows up in Los Angeles, and brings with him a secret that'll lead him into dangerous territory. Can he cope with that? And his friends, will they be there for him?
***
Xander felt his senses and reason slowly returning to his body, and painfully filling the memory blanks of the previous night's horrible events.
Apparently, his constant prayers and pleas for everything that had happened to just be a bad dream hadn't exactly come true, because the room he was in didn't look like his apartment at all.
And the waist, which he was softly embracing with his arms, was definitely not Anya's.
Because he knew his fiancée's body too damn well, by this point of the game.
Anya's waist was lanky and delicately shaped, and it had soft skin with a mellow fragrance of jasmine, along with some cute freckles along her slightly tanned back.
But this one -
Oh, shit...
This one that his hands were resting on, was plainly not hers.
And Anya would certainly not be too pleased to know that.
Its shape clearly had more bends, and dangerous curves. This girl's skin had a slightly citric scent, remarkably different to his fiancée's jasmine aroma, and its muscles' rigidity were like a different kind of softness than Anya's smooth one, colored a milkier shade of white as well.
And then Xander realized who this was. Panicked about it, actually.
***
January, 1999. Sunnydale, California
A dark motel room, the weak moonlight and her shadow on his, a lithe female body molding itself all over his own.
Her powerful essence, her strong and overtaking presence â€" a Slayer's unique ability to do such things, to his overworked male hormones...
The fear, the excitement, the confusion, the danger, the sheer sexual heat this woman could generate...
"I'll steer you around the curves..."
***
Spring, 2002: Los Angeles, California
No doubt about it â€" this was Faith's body he was holding here.
What? H-how the-?!
Xander felt as if his mind was starting to scream at him, violent shouts and abrupt howls capable of waking up half of L.A. in a single second, if he'd voiced his outburst out loud.
Anya. Mad. Very mad. Visions of what she'd do, upon learning about this...
He. Was. A. Dead. Man.
Xander immediately got his hands off of the brunette Slayer's waist, and his last minutes of straight thinking during the previous night finally reached his mind, inducing panic and frenzied effects on his psyche.
Faith's sleepy voice instantly surprised the dark-haired time traveller. "Hey, stay on your side of the bed, would you?"
The Slayer's body didn't move one inch from the sheets, and Xander stared in utter confusion at her sleeping figure for what seemed like entire centuries.
"My side of the bed?" Xander confusedly blurted out.
"C'mon, just gimme five more minutes," a groggy Faith whispered, not really acknowledging her bed-partner's identity, blessed sleep still dazing her conscious mind.
"Uh, Faith, where the hell are we? And, what are we doing in bed *together*?!"
The brunette girl finally stood up and sat on the bed, a brief yawn escaping from her mouth. She was still feeling a little hazy and slightly lost, from being woken up so suddenly like that.
An impetuous urge came over her to immediately silence whoever'd had the unpleasant job of waking her up, without even considering her natural bad mood â€" as she was definitely not a morning person.
But there was two things that actually made her forget that impulse, quicker than the blink of an eye.
Firstly, Faith realized that this was the first time in a very long while that she wasn't waking up in jail and her tiny, suffocating cell. And the sunlight was actually once again fully greeting her with its warming presence, and not with the irritating deformed squares and rectangles which the goddamn cell's bars just *had* to always form on the floor.
And, to be completely honest, she felt really good about that.
But the second thing wasn't so nice, though it wasn't exactly bad either. It was just...
Huh.
Confusing.
What the hell...
Unanticipated.
Damn!
Unexpected, too.
After all â€" what was she doing completely naked, in the same bed with a shirtless Xander Harris?
What the hell had she *done* with him, this being a more appropriate question.
Xander and Faith slowly gazed at each other, turning their heads to find the other's intensely scared and very wide stare at them; a brief moment of silence filling their thoughts with surprise, confusion and puzzlement.
And then they both finally screamed out loud, as they clumsily fell out of their bed.
***
The hotel room was small, but strangely comfortable. Despite its cheap price, the accommodations weren't dirty or stuffy, and it didn't have soiled lipstick-covered cups from former patrons or unsanitary bed sheets either.
Which was certainly to be expected from a place called 'Big Aunt Mona's Hotel', which had considerably large posters in the front lounge that proclaimed Friday's as the day which the hotel TV would be showing Jerry Springer reruns, no extra charge.
Old bulls and catfights from crazy people working out their issues on national television? A priceless offering, to be sure.
The room was divided into two smaller sections, and Faith and Xander were in one of them, silently drinking their mugs of coffee at that moment.
Which the *lovely* Big Aunt Mona had personally brought to them, with that big, wide smile on her chubby face. And an odd white kitchen's apron with a smile-y face in the middle of it, right on top of her bellybutton, at precisely 9:00 a.m.
Xander and Faith had been sitting in complete silence for quite a while, and the whole scene was starting to get either jocular, or just very sickening and tiring for them.
When Faith diverted her gaze, Xander stared at her; and when she looked back at him, it was his turn to look away.
And vice versa, several times over.
They could have passed the entire day with that foolish game; but, to both Xander's and Faith's happiness and relief, the ex-construction worker decided to screw formality and talk first.
Break the queer silence that had been created since they'd babbled incoherently, and the former Zeppo and the Slayer had both fallen from the bed, until Big Aunt Mona had brought them coffee and biscuits.
"We, uh, we didn't really do it, did we?" Xander asked nervously, promptly averting his gaze from Faith's.
"Nah... no, I'd have remembered. I mean, I know I'd..." the brunette Slayer replied, though her obvious uncertainty only made Xander's own insecurity increase exponentially.
Xander and Faith sighed heavily at the exact same time, and exchanged a brief chuckle. But then they quickly remembered their current odd situation, and promptly silenced themselves again.
And then, the brunette Slayer started to feel something really *odd* going on inside of her body.
It felt like if she had just come out of a three-day drunken bender, and a really huge one at that.
It was as if her mind was suddenly going at a thousand miles an hour, and the world was rapidly spinning around her â€" a dizzying sensation, to be sure.
Maybe it was the added energy from the coffee, or maybe it was her getting out of that previous groggy state that officially came with being a non- morning person.
But, quick as a flash, Faith's memory suddenly started to recall everything. And the brunette girl lowered her mug and didn't take the next bite of her cookie, that was left hanging in the air with her raised hand close to her mouth.
"Faith?" Xander insecurely questioned the girl's sudden twisted features.
But Faith stayed silent, gazing intensely at Xander. His eyes were once again focused on the brunette woman as he said, "Oh no â€" we did it, didn't we?"
"Well..." Faith began, not really knowing how to follow on from her own words.
"Well what?" the dark-haired young man replied, his rushed words almost impossible to follow, and the sound suddenly seemed very amusing to the Slayer.
Wellwhat, wellwhat, wellwhat.
Man, am I definitely needing to cut back on the coffee, the brunette rebuked herself, and her confused thoughts.
After all, she was finding Xander's 'wellwhat' amusing, for God's sake.
"Well," Faith paused, sighing dramatically. "We didn't really *do* it, ya know? Not exactly, anyway," the Slayer added gingerly, looking around the room as if she was purposefully trying to divert her eyes away from his.
Xander raised his eyebrows with a certain spark of unease and consternation, and his words were direct and prompt, though they were spoken somehow calmly and pointedly. "Okay Faith, so what the hell's your precise definition of 'not exactly'?"
"Oh, I'm so sorry you're upset, Xander! I mean, what if I'd gotten pregnant last night? Geez, it's not like you don't have an excuse â€" 'cause, you know, you were pretty out of it with all those drugs they gave you, remember? It happens to a lot of guys, really," Faith blurted out, suddenly sounding very serious.
The young man's face twisted in sudden tension and chagrin, and Xander didn't know where to direct his gaze to avoid Faith's pitying glance at him.
It was a merciful one too, as if she was offering a sympathizing look at him. Even though Xander was simply unsure if this was what he was actually seeing at that moment.
Alexander Lavelle Harris would have been damn well glad if he'd never been born, at that exact interminable moment of silence.
These thoughts were becoming more and more amusing, much to the Slayer's entertainment, and finally Faith wasn't able to hold it in anymore and burst out in unexpected gale of laughter.
Xander promptly sent a murderous look at the laughing brunette girl. "Oh, you bitca! Do you have any idea what *that* can do to a man? I almost bought your little song 'n dance act, ya know?!"
"Hey, don't be so mad, boy toy... it was worth it, believe me, the look on your face was pretty much priceless," Faith grinned, bitingly.
"And," she added with an evil smirk, "a girl needs to have her fun, sometimes."
Xander could have been immensely and monstrously mad at her, at that exact moment.
But seeing the rough Slayer laughing so freely and with no apparent hatred for him *and* herself, which was the most important thing after all, that was just something that didn't allow him to actually stay upset for any length of time.
"You knew we didn't do anything the whole time, and you just wanted to see me suffer, didn't you?" Xander snorted suspiciously.
"Ha, but no. It sorta popped into my mind right now, just like that," the brunette Slayer made a gesture with her hand, snapping her fingers. "And personally, I'd blame the coffee for that."
"OK, fair's fair. But what the hell happened, anyway?" Xander asked, obviously trying to push the subject and get as detailed an explanation as possible.
'Cause then, when the time came, he'd be able to give an acceptable account to Anya about the why's and wherefore's of the previous night's happenings.
Hopefully.
Xander sighed. He just hoped he could actually have a future, with his fiancée.
Faith finally finished off her cookie, and took a large gulp of black coffee with milk. It wasn't the fanciest breakfast, or a five star hotel's finest food, but it was surprisingly appetizing, actually.
"OK, stud, here's what happened..."
***
[The previous night]
"C'mon, Xand, just lemme take your shirt off here, okay? God, what the hell did those bastards give you at that hospital, anyway?"
Xander muttered something Faith didn't quite understand, and the Slayer's features bent into a funny expression.
The brunette girl had at least succeeded in taking Xander's jacket off so far â€" and, despite her natural Slayer strength, that'd been a hard job to be sure.
The young man's body was like totally reluctant to cooperate with her, and an unexpected flying arm just *had* to slap her shoulders, back and face every goddamn time she wasn't looking.
And then, suddenly, Faith blushed as a realization crossed her mind.
Perhaps too many nights in a women's prison were the explanation for her thoughts, when Xander's well-built naked chest finally showed itself.
There had been many long, bleak and suffocating evenings when the brunette Slayer had had no chance to... release some stress, one could say.
That is, if she wasn't willing to start playing for the other team, so to speak â€" as had many in the crowd of female inmates that, just like her, found themselves needing to search for any source of comfort in their abhorrent situations.
Or when Daniel, a cute, twenty-something guard wasn't on duty for the night shift. Which actually had gradually become more and more rare, till it'd ended completely.
For the brown-haired man had started patrolling L.A.'s streets, doing what the older cops apparently liked to call 'the real job' â€" after what, five secret meetings with her?
Maybe it had been more â€" perhaps six, or seven such encounters â€" but certainly not enough for Faith's liking.
And also, maybe it was the entire craziness that her life appeared to be currently going through, what with the prophecy about Angel's coming downfall and the mixed feelings about that which were ascending inside of her.
What the hell, maybe it was the complete sense of confusion â€" the lack of certainty inside her about her mission; nothing other than the absence of the purest primal Slayer sense of duty and rightness.
Faith had to kill Angel.
Kill. Angel.
The man who'd saved her soul. The vampire she'd tried to stake more than once, and even begged to kill her.
It didn't matter how many times she'd kept that play rolling around inside her head, it still didn't sound real or believable.
Or maybe it did, in fact. And Faith didn't like that at all.
Was it denial? Fury? Plain cowardice?
Fear? But from what?
Her feelings?
Herself?
A hopeless world, that existed now only in her memories?
Well, how the hell should she know? Nobody had exactly given her time to think about any of this. It was just crazy â€" because there was simply no other road to be taken. Period.
That's my biggest test, Faith thought. And my failure'll mean the world's downfall.
Fair much? And who cared?
Angel. Going bad. Having to kill him.
Wait a goddamn minute here. Didn't he save my life? Save me from myself?
She remembered the words before coming back from the future, "Uh-uh. No questions, Slayer. He's gonna go Bad. Ain't no one can stop it. Kill him."
But-
"No. No 'but'. World's ashes if there's a but. And it'll be all your fault. Yours and Harris's. Don't think. Just do it."
And then, that was it. It wasn't as if this was anyone's fault, really. Of course she wanted to find that anyone, and hate him with every fiber of her body.
Faith had wanted to scream, to punch the bastard who'd sent her to kill a good man like Angel, to slay him and tell herself that his horse hockey couldn't be true.
Despite all the horrors that she'd heard were happening, outside the prison.
It couldn't be true. She wouldn't let it be true.
"Who the hell do you think you are, you asshole? We're talking about Angel, he's the good guy! He's the hero!"
But no answer had been forthcoming â€" because there'd been no concrete enemy this time, no ugly demons, or sharp weapons and spells, just a declining and conceptual ramp of savagery and abstract thought.
Perhaps it had been all those topics together, mixed up in a big, messy soup of confused feelings and dazed thoughts â€" but that it had made Xander Harris a target for her hormones at that crazed, practically unreal moment, that was just undeniably true.
Oh boy, and how. Definitely. And it would have turned out to be the one acceptable truth for the Slayer's utterly stressed mind to cling to, at that instant.
Because after all that time in prison, Faith was sure that this time around â€" she'd damn well make it last longer than 7 minutes.
But then she, Faith the vampire Slayer, Queen of Bitchiness, a founding member of the 'I don't give a damn' club, had actually blushed â€" very much to her own bafflement, to be sure.
Because it was zipper time.
"Xand, I could use a little help now, 'kay? Stay still, and be a good boy..."
Her voice was shy and low, and Faith immediately rebuked herself mentally. Oh, spare me, Faith! He isn't even aware of what's going on around him, for God's sake!
Xander groggily moaned something impossible for the brunette Slayer to understand, and the girl laughed nervously, her cranky and unsure voice tensely filling the previous stillness in the silent atmosphere of the room.
Not getting anywhere, the beautiful brunette sighed. Heavily. "Okay, what the hell â€" I need you to work with me here, alright? We'll just move your hand to the zipper..."
Belligerently, in a sudden movement, Xander's arm flew out and hit Faith straight on the bellybutton. "Hey!" she blurted out defensively and dropped him onto the bed.
But when the Slayer turned to face the dark-haired boy again, a shirtless Xander Harris was sleeping peacefully, jeans still on and a peaceful gaze staring into Faith's face.
Oh, crap, she thought, tautly. That's like he's unconsciously getting revenge on me or something, and he's just loving it!
Faith finally decided that the young man wouldn't die if he slept one day with his pants on, and simply gave up trying to undress him.
She took off all her clothes and searched for the little motel room's wardrobe, but found nothing. Cursing in frustration and tiredness, the brunette girl looked around once again and ultimately stopped her search, convinced that she would have to sleep with her jeans and top on after all.
Which was great, as once she started running like a crazy â€" or a fugitive, which in fact she was â€" she certainly wouldn't leave sweaty, smelly clothes behind afterwards.
And, what just made everything so much better and pleasant â€" this crappy little motel room didn't even have a bathtub or a shower.
I'm sure that a girl who's literally stinking would turn any man on! Faith snarled sarcastically, remembering her previous lusty thoughts about Xander â€" and actually letting a small smile appear on her lips, wondering about the scene with a certain dose of amusement.
The state of the two of them â€" and this, their first encounter, after years without even seeing each other's faces.
Their lives, and how they'd changed were at the very least comical â€" a groggy, sedated and diagnosed mental patient, and a sweating prison escapee.
Which was a result of running from the cops and hospital security, with clothes that were actually stolen from an teenager's abandoned closet and about two sizes too small for her.
Guess not *everything's* changed, after all, Faith concluded, looking in the direction of the dark pants, tight top and leather jacket and boots. They looked just like something that her former self would have worn, at any hour of the day.
Standing at the middle of the motel room, as naked as the day she was born â€" no way in Hell had she kept her jail underwear, or stolen a stranger's either â€" Faith sent one more look at Xander's sleeping persona, and chuckled.
Like that, with his jeans on and some dark locks of hair falling clumsily across his face, Xander had an almost angelic appearance; something natural, in a person who's caught in deep slumber's peace and stillness.
It didn't even seem like what they'd lived through during those previous frantic hours was actually real, what with the whole craziness of that situation with Angel and its consequences in both of their lives.
And with him ending up in a shrink's office at St. Matthew's, accused of causing Cordelia Chase's injuries, Faith pretty much guessed Xander's life wasn't exactly being a blissful one either.
The brunette girl released a brief yawn and her vision started to blur, already diverted from the young man â€" along with her thoughts, too.
Rapidly, weariness and fatigue seemed to be reaching her mind with an almost impossible speed. And, before her brain could even register it, her body fell down on the bed for support and the sensation of delight was practically priceless.
Damn, but I could stay in this exact same position for the rest of my life...
Every part of her tired physique seemed to match perfectly with the fluffy texture of the pillow, and the sheet's softness made her feel as if she was in Heaven.
And at that instant of comfort where her exhausted body found rest, Faith even thought that she was, ipso facto, finally in Heaven.
Just five minutes, Faith thought, while her petite body was finding an incredibly comfortable position on the bed, next to Xander's. Just five minutes of rest...
And the next thing she knew, there was nothing left but the intriguing world of unconscious and turbulent dreams, that the vicious and marvelous sensation of sleeping was bringing to her.
***
The next day
"That's what happened?" Xander asked, still seeming a little uncertain about it all.
"No. Truth is, aliens forced us into having wild animal sex all night, for their version of 'Candid Camera'," Faith replied, with an indistinct hint of irony.
The former Zeppo stared at her blankly and the Slayer sighed, letting her hand fall through the empty air along with her mug of coffee. "Of course that's what happened! What, like it's not enough for you?"
Faith automatically regretted having said that, but it was too late by then. She could only hope that it didn't sound as bad to Xander's ears as it did to hers.
"No, o-of course it's enough for me! I, I wouldn't want anything else, I mean, with you. That's 100% enough."
Faith raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
"Yeah! I mean God, you're certainly a beautiful woman, and you were my first..."
Faith smirked at that.
"That's not what I meant, but, it-it wouldn't be right, ya know? I-I, if I wasn't me, I mean if I wasn't engaged, I'd probably have gone for it, but that's..." the young man babbled incoherently, and the brunette's amusement only increased.
"You would have gone for it? With little old me?" she asked in a sultry voice.
"Hey, knock it off!"
"What?" Faith replied, with a faked innocence.
"You know what I'm talking about. You're doing this on purpose! Like that... business from earlier. When you told me we had... you know, danced the mattress mambo or whatever."
"Mattress mambo?"
"Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I rest my case," Xander retorted, and Faith finally gave up.
"OK, so maybe I was trying to have some fun. No big," she said, taking a large gulp of coffee.
They locked eyes for a brief instant, and started to grin at each other in silence. The young man then said, "So you've been sent back to kill Angel too, huh? Tough job they've loaded us with."
Faith promptly choked on her biscuit and gazed at Xander, who was simply taking another bite from his sandwich. As if he had just passed some banal comment on the weather, or the latest episode of 'Survivor'.
"And you're completely cool with that?" she replied, her incredulity barely hidden.
"Faith," Xander began, as his voice took a darker tone. Looking straight into her eyes, so that the brunette Slayer had to bite her tongue not to yelp in consternation.
Those eyes... they were like an abyss of haunted anger and bottomless woe.
And that was like nothing she'd ever seen inside Xander Harris before.
"I'm not exactly willing to do it, but somebody's got to, right? And since there wasn't anyone better left alive in the future to do the job, the luck's all ours. Or rather, mine."
Faith started to say, something, but Xander interrupted. "Now, I'm pretty sure that killing Deadboy will be the hardest thing I'll ever have to do in my entire life; and, what the hell, it'll probably be the last one too..."
"What?"
"Bottom line is even if I manage to get out of this alive, I know I'll lose my old life â€" as well as my friends, and probably Anya along with it. So I quite honestly don't see any great difference between living and dying, after Angel's dust here."
Faith's mouth tried to say something, anything â€" but the brunette girl was completely silent. She couldn't even think of something to say at that moment, as her mind seemed to suddenly draw a complete blank.
Her confused web of contradictory feelings, her recognition and identification with Xander's sorrow â€" all of that was visible on her face, without the need of any words to say it out loud.
"Look, Faith, my life's been pretty much a living hell for weeks, and I think you know as well as I do that there's nothing else left to do now â€" that things won't get any better. Prophecy's a bitch, huh?"
"Xander..."
"Lemme finish. Saying that there isn't a single moment where I wished I was just dreaming the whole goddamn thing, that Overbite was just a creepy, distant memory from the past and Deadboy can just brood or do whatever he does nowadays â€" now, that would be an understatement. But if there's one thing I've learned ever since he lost his soul, it's that there's no point in closing your eyes and trying to wish your problems away."
"But killing him for something he hasn't even done yet?"
Xander shrugged. "That's my so-called mission now, and I'm sure your story is as much of a soap opera as mine, but it's what we gotta do. 'Cause I don't wanna have to stake Anya again in a few months, after he turns her..."
Faith stared at him intently, though she was shaking real hard inside. The truth was, that the brunette Slayer was scared.
The girl just knew that it didn't matter what he'd say next, 'cause she already knew what she had to do. And that was precisely what scared her the most, and made her wanna scream at the top of her lungs.
"There won't be one freaking single minute in which I'll be rid of the guilt, his face'll haunt me forever â€" but I'm gonna do it, Faith. I'm gonna kill him and I'll need your help," Xander paused for the first time, looking down at the table and averting his eyes from Faith's.
"I just wish there was some other way, any way, to let you out of this, but I know I can't risk it. I'm sorry..."
A minute of silence reigned, until Faith finally spoke. Calmly too, to her own surprise. "Xander, call me when you want to get some helpless girl to wake up Angel's lust for blood, would ya?"
The dark-haired young man looked at her in confusion, and it was his turn to be silent now.
"Geez, it's not like this is your fault in the first place! We were *both* chosen for this, and I know how it's like to be in your shoes, just like you know how it's like to be in mine. You don't need to feel sorry for me, Xandman."
"But-"
"This time, you let me finish! We're the same, now â€" two people sent back on some insane mission, to save the world! That's how things are going to be for awhile, till we fix this whole stupid Angel situation. And â€" like it or not â€" I'm gonna have to stick with you till then, okay?"
"I, I guess."
They stood again in utter silence for several moments, the only noise heard being their intense breathing and the movement of the food and coffee in their mouths.
"How did you know I was coming?" Faith suddenly asked.
Xander turned his gaze back to the brunette's. "Huh?"
"You know, you didn't question me being here â€" not even once. Aren't you at least curious? How did you know I came back from the future too, to stop Angel? How did you know that?"
Faith's intense glance was questioning him, and so Xander returned her gaze and stopped eating his breakfast â€" which, at that point, was practically nothing but a small piece of sandwich and a sole gulp of coffee and milk in his mug.
"I was told someone else would be coming," he replied pointedly.
"You *knew* I'd be along for the ride? So why the hell didn't you wait for me? What, the plan was to call attention to yourself and get locked up as a freaking lunatic? And what about Cordelia? I mean, if I was coming, why'd ya bring Vision Girl into this?"
Faith's explosion automatically made Xander get into a defensive position. "Hey, now wait a minute! I thought they'd given up on sending someone else, or they weren't able to, or something â€" I don't know! I waited for hours! And also, I didn't know it was gonna be you! Besides, even if I had known, what was I supposed to do? Huh? To wait and what, dance the macarena while letting them get to Angel first, by stopping us? Whoever the hell they are, anyway..."
The brunette Slayer and the dark-haired young man then sighed loudly, in perfect unison.
"I'm sure you'd be a kick-ass macarena dancer," Faith mumbled, as Xander sent another murderous glance at her.
They locked eyes again for an instant, apparently neither of them knowing exactly what more could be said. The awkward silence didn't last much longer, though.
"I know I was stupid for bringing Cordelia into this mess, but at the time I didn't exactly see any another alternative. It was stupid, and God knows *I* know that too. I almost got her dead, and when Cordy next saw me she started to scream her head off, saying I had actually tried to kill her..."
For one ephemeral moment, Faith thought she'd seen Xander's eyes fill with unshed tears. He never cried a single drop, though. But his haunted eyes were pretty obvious to her.
"She kept screaming that, over and over... and over and over... ah, shit!" Xander suddenly exploded, finding it hard to control his feelings anymore.
The shocked Slayer almost jumped out of her chair on account of the sudden outburst, but that didn't seem to get Xander's attention for a second.
"Damn it! This is so not right!" the young man kept murmuring, again and again. "This is just so not right! This isn't goddamn fair or anything!"
"Hey," Faith offered, putting her hand on his shoulder. "It's OK, that's always been a crazy situation with you two anyway. But I'm gonna need you focused, alright? I'm here with ya, Xandman, but I can't do this by myself..."
Once again, silence and its utter placidity overtook the scene.
"I'm sorry for bringing Cordelia into this. It was a low blow," Faith finally said, looking a little ashamed.
Xander raised his eyes at hers. "Nah. We're all screwed up, after all."
"Right," the Slayer announced, raising her mug and what was left inside, which was a little bit of milky coffee. "Three cheers for our being screwed up, then."
Xander looked at her confused at first, but then raised his mug as well. "To being screwed up, then..."
The noise of the mugs being pushed against each other was heard, and the two young people caught out of time shared a look of complicity.
The truth was, they didn't really want to persist in pursuing any of their painful memories any longer. And Faith and Xander knew there'd be harder times ahead where they'd not be able to handle it and explode at each other, but that they'd deal with it then.
They also had to leave the safe haven of this hotel room soon.
After all, there was still a mission to fulfil and a world to be saved.
They exchanged one last look at each other and turned their attention back to their coffees, which miraculously hadn't gotten cold yet.
And when Faith brought her mug to her mouth, hot liquid accidentally splashed along her chin and she yelped in sudden pain, automatically bringing her empty hand to her skin and rubbing it. "Damn!"
Xander promptly searched for something to help her clean herself up, but found nothing. He then took out of his jacket the first thing he'd remembered he had and offered it to Faith, who could only raise a skeptical eyebrow in return.
"Uh, Xand, thanks, really â€" but I don't think a used tissue will be a lot of help, y'know? And, gross! God, don't you know what a napkin's like? You know, a white square made of thin paper..."
The young woman was getting out of her chair to make her way to the bathroom to wash her face and get rid of the remaining vestiges of coffee and milk, when something caught her attention.
Xander was looking at the handkerchief he had just offered to Faith moments ago. And the brunette Slayer saw his features change suddenly, becoming a darkened shadow of their previous selves â€" which automatically made her innards shiver strongly.
"What is it, Xander?"
When the brunette girl didn't get an answer, she felt her blood freezing in her veins. And, despite her nervousness, Faith managed to snap herself out of her little fugue and grab the item out of Xander's hand.
There was red blood on it, along with the dried blood that she was now recognizing as the supposed stain she'd thought it was earlier, from a leaky pen or something similar. She'd thought it was anything but blood, actually.
Xander instinctively took off his jacket, and a darker spot was staining his T-shirt's usual black coloration.
Raising the T-shirt to chest height, red blood seemed to paint his skin in its captivating and at the same time horrifying color, making Faith recoil in sudden shock.
"You're wounded," the Slayer stated absent-mindedly.
All at once, her mind was screaming at her so loud that the fact that she'd managed to speak was already almost a miracle.
Faith didn't know why this was reaching her heart and making it twist so painfully, but the fact that it was happening was enough to make the Slayer realize this unanticipated ache and, then, understand it.
The thing was, Xander and herself weren't exactly best buddies when she'd gone to jail, and they hadn't been best friends at any other time either.
As far as Faith was concerned, trying to kill your lover wasn't exactly something to fulfil the specific prerequisites of friendship, along with kicking him out of your motel room after sleeping with him just to unwind a little.
Oh, well. These old-fashioned rules...
OK, so apart from Angel maybe the guy did matter more to her than any other member of Buffy's little crew of freaks. And the brunette Slayer had even thought once that they'd had a hell of a lot in common â€" abusive parents, feelings of being the outsider and excess baggage within the Scooby gang...
Not that they had shared this with anybody, of course. But a screw-up can easily recognize one of his own, even if he or she tries to hide it by making jokes and diverting attention away from their problems.
Or going crazy and deciding it'd be fun joining forces with Evil, and fulfil secret fantasies after years of solitude and nobody really giving a damn about you.
Both of them had wondered more than once, about what might have been if Xander had been able to get through to Faith that night â€" if she'd never gotten lost to the dark side of the Force...
Would it have been her wearing Xander's engagement ring now, instead of Anya?
In any case, the truth was that seeing him hurt had harmed Faith as well. It couldn't get simpler than that.
Pain's a simple, direct topic for all people; it's the one thing that affects everybody as equal individuals in the end, in this material and superficial world of human beings.
All its consequences are the real challenge; but its primal, savage attack doesn't select its victims by race, religion, sex or nationality.
Rather, by their inner strength and power to stand up before it.
And it didn't necessarily follow that the man who had it inside of him to powerfully battle against the odds, till his last drop of blood and never giving up for those who he loved, would turn out to be a winner against pain.
"Lemme see," Faith offered without really expecting an answer, rapidly moving closer to Xander's chair and examining the wound. "How the hell did you get this? It wasn't bleeding last night, that's for sure. I'd have seen it..."
Xander growled softly in pain, but just bit his lips to stifle a yell of pain while a sharp pang passed through his body.
"Checking out the old Xandman's physique last night, eh?" he tried to smirk, but the pain was becoming too intense when it started to seem that just to pronounce a mere word would mean a lifetime of suffering and woe.
"Dream on, pal," the brunette girl sighed sourly, but her features got a troubled expression then. "Man, that's just like so typical of you..."
"What?"
"Getting into trouble. I mean, didn't you ever hear when you were a child to keep a mile away from a beehive?" Faith said, looking very serious. "Nobody should play with a beehive. It's evil."
Despite his sudden pain, Xander chuckled in slight confusion. "You don't like bees, huh? I've gotta admit, you Slayers can be a real puzzle..."
Faith shook her head promptly. "Nuh-uh. My problem's with the honey. Winnie the Pooh loved it, and *he's* evil," she shivered, as if a horrible image was going through her mind. "I don't trust him. Too sweet and cute, you've gotta keep an eye on that kinda thing."
Xander just shook his head in amusement, even when the now-familiar feeling of pain still seemed to make his skin erupt into a blaze of aching flames.
Faith's serious expression didn't change at any time, and the young man watched her hands delicately cleaning the wound with a towel courtesy of Big Aunt Mona's hotel, one that she had found in the nearby closet.
"Where did you get these bruises?" Faith demanded. "And this wound here's lookin' wicked bad. You coulda died from a sudden hemorrhage or something, you know that?"
The brunette Slayer's voice was sounding angry to Xander. He slowly got up off of his chair, searching for her shoulders to support himself.
"It's nothing, Faith, really. I'm surprised it's bleeding this much, 'cause I hadn't felt anything till now, seriously! It's just a souvenir of some demon I've had the pleasant experience to bump into. Uh, demons actually. Plural," Xander snorted sarcastically, but the young woman didn't seem to have bought his lame story about his injuries.
Faith was about to respond with an angry reply, but a knock on the door that made the entire structure of the old wooden edifice shake violently stopped her.
The young couple exchanged a worried look â€" but before they could think of anything to say, the rough but over-the-top friendly voice of Big Aunt Mona was heard on the other side of the door, in the hotel's hallway.
"Hey, kids! Listen up, your faces are all over the goddamn TV!"
***