Song is Ordinary Life by: Kristen Berry
~*~
Part 5
I can't go the distance...
But when you go you take me in an instant...
In this life, I'll give it time...
Cause its always pushing up from behind...
It'll be alright, it will be fine...
Its nothing more than ordinary life...
And I show you my sins, show me all your scars...
As we settle in, its written in the stars...
The morning is very bright. The Slayers in Training are not morning people, and Faith watches them shuffle around the too-crowded kitchen, grabbing for juice and coffee. The pretty Brunette with Penelope Cruz Lips, what is her name? Kennedy. Right. She stares at Willow from across the kitchen, a look in her eyes that Faith recognizes all too well. Interesting.
Faith is doing some watching of her own. Buffy is on the phone in the doorway, backlit by the sunlight that comes through the kitchen windows. She looks the same as she had before, only skinnier. Sharper. She has lost a lot. Faith knows the feeling. She turns away quickly as Buffy hangs up the phone and looks around the kitchen. "That was Giles. He's found another potential."
"As if we aren't crowded as it is." Dawn mutters into her Cheerios, her chin resting sullenly in her left hand.
"I have to go with him to the airport to meet her. She's from Russia, her name is Sonya. That's all we know." Buffy continues, either not hearing or completely ignoring her sister. Faith feels sorry for the youngest Summers then, sympathizing with the second-fiddle feeling. "In the meantime, Xander and Willow are going to stay with you guys. Dawn, go to school. Faith, you're coming with me."
Faith nods silently, not making eye contact, but watching Dawn as she pushes away her cereal bowl and walks slowly out of the kitchen without a word. Poor kid.
Later, Buffy is driving *When did she learn to drive, anyway* Xander's car towards Sunnydale International and Faith is sitting as close to the passenger side door as possible.
"You okay?" Buffy asks after a good ten minutes of silent driving. Faith doesn't answer for a while. How can she? Oh yes, I'm peachy keen, what with the evil ghosts and whatnot. Lovely.
"I'm fine." Faith replies at last, "Are you?"
"Yeah."
More silence. Faith wishes she could disappear into the door of Xander's (really nice) car *Since when does he have nice wheels?* and not be here, in this confined space, near Buffy with no escape. *Acute Claustrophobia* the prison shrink called it. It explained her sleepless nights, he said. She was claustrophobic. Faith agrees.
"So. What, uh, what's the sitch with Spike?" Faith asks, her voice trembling over the first few words. But what else can she do but make small talk?
"There's no sitch."
"But you screwed him?"
Buffy's hands tighten on the steering wheel, "Yes. But...that was last year. It's over."
"Yeah."
"It *is*." Buffy snaps, "God."
"Sorry." Faith mutters, "So you aren't like, in love with him?"
"No." Buffy replies.
And she means it. She isn't in love with Spike. She likes him, now, sure. But love is not an option, no matter what. That's the way it is. She cares if he unlives or...becomes dust on someone's floor. She glances at Faith, noting the way the other Slayer's body scrunches into the corner of her seat, her hands pulling nervously at her seat belt.
"Are you sure you're ok?"
"Yes."
"Faith?"
"What?"
"What's the sitch with you and this redemption thing?"
"There is no sitch."
"Yes, there is."
Faith sighs and tugs at her seatbelt some more, "I am sorry for what I did. There's no way to make up for it, but I can try to reestablish myself as a normal member of society and move on from my past. I am rehabilitating myself. The End." She says it all in monotone, repeating what the prison shrinks have said to her a thousand times over.
"How very neat and tidy of you." Buffy murmurs, "So what's the real answer?"
Faith looks over at her, "I'm sorry. That's all there is, is that I'm sorry. I have nightmares, I think about that guy in the alley and the professor and you, and Willow. I think about Angel and Wesley. I think about everyone I fucked up in that two years. I don't sleep, I barely breathe most the time. There. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"No." Buffy whispers, "I...I don't know what I wanted to hear."
"Whatever."
"What's prison like?"
"Cold."
"Oh."
"And boring. And dark. I miss life, however shitty it was. I miss real clothes and real food, and I really miss yo-- I miss a lot." She inhales and holds it for a moment, letting the air expel slowly.
"We're here." Buffy murmurs softly, pulling into the parking garage.
"Come on."
