Please see Chapter 1 for relevant disclaimers and explanations.
A/N : Many, many apologies for the tardy update. Believe it or not, I've had this chapter written for some time, but my beta-reader is struggling to juggle graduate work and her job, and she's had no time to go over my stuff. If anyone else is interested in beta-reading, I'd welcome the help. I'll have the next chapter up this week, though. I'm just tweaking it now :-) Thanks to Michelle, Leanne8582, mispel, rma, Randy, cloudofcalm, Mayatawi, Ali and eshell for reviewing. You guys rock!
It was just a blur of color on her right, but something made Faith pause and look back. Through the glare of the shop window, she saw a bewildering array of posters, but it was the Mary Cassatt that had caught her eye. It was one of her "Mother and Child" paintings, the kind you find on gift mugs or nursery walls. Or in a Boston art museum on a field trip.
Maybe Buffy's mom would … well, it was just nice of her and all, inviting Faith over. She had made her dinner that one time. Even got up to get her another soda. And she was into art and stuff, so she even knew who Cassatt was. Besides, Faith would look wicked stupid handing Buffy a Christmas present with Mrs. S just standing there. The Cassatt in the window was just some random poster, nothing she recognized or anything. But if they had that one…
Faith clutched the handful of bills in her jacket pocket and stepped inside the store. She was immediately assaulted by a barrage of brightly colored photos and prints plastered onto every available surface. Her brow crinkled as she took in the crush of people frantically rifling through stacks of posters and impatiently pushing towards registers. She took a step back, but was immediately shoved further into the store by an influx of new shoppers. Keeping her hands in her pockets, she began edging her way toward the Cassatt on the far wall. Beneath the constant hum of commercialism, the strains of an instrumental 'Deck the Halls' could be heard.
As she slowly flipped through a box of prints, Faith could hear the employees in the break room on the other side of the wall.
"Every year, honestly. Why don't people ever bother to shop before Christmas Eve?"
She scowled at the wall and returned her attention to the posters. She was soon flipping so quickly that she almost missed it when it finally came up. There it was. "Sleeping Baby." Faith stood staring at the picture, unmoving even as another shopper tapped her pointedly on the shoulder.
"Hello? Are you almost done here?" Fatigue and annoyance lined the older woman's face. "Some of us have actual shopping to do."
Faith turned her head to glare at the woman. "Back off, lady."
The customer wavered, but stood her ground. "Well, are you gonna buy it?"
Faith leaned forward to see the back of the print and swallowed at the price. "Not - not this one." She pushed it back down with the others and turned around. Lifting her chin, she glared until the other woman moved out of her way.
She began shoving her way back to the door. It was a dumb idea to begin with. So what if B's mom liked art? She should have known she couldn't afford anything in there. Who the hell spent that kind of money on posters? Idiots, that's who.
She heard a crash and turned to see the rack by the register tumble into the crowd, spilling its contents over the floor. Most people just moved aside to avoid stepping on the small prints (or didn't), but Faith caught a glimpse of one and crouched down rescue it.
There it was, her Cassatt. Smaller, but all there. Baby's face tucked into the mother's neck, heavy limbs drooping across her body, everything. Faith smiled softly at the image, but her expression dimmed as she saw no price on the back. Probably jacked up like the rest of this crap. She reached for the rack with little hope and was surprised at the price tag attached to it. She could do that. She really could. She could even pay more than that.
Faith rose and tapped the small print against her other hand as she watched the shoppers swarming around her. Her gaze was drawn to a counter along the side wall where the irate woman from before was now arguing with a harried-looking clerk about the right color matting for a print. A frame, huh? Yeah, guess that's what people did with art. Faith watched for awhile, noting the wooden frame the woman eventually settled on. There was a bunch of little frames on that rack over there. One of those would probably work. Faith elbowed her way over and grabbed the first wood-colored one she saw. She held it up behind the Cassatt and shrugged. Good enough.
Relieved to finally be headed toward the registers, Faith grabbed a place in line and dug some cash from her pocket. After an interminable wait, it was finally her turn to check out. The clerk accepted the wad of slightly sweaty bills with distaste, making a point of flattening each one before placing it in the register. Faith glared at her and angrily grabbed the print and frame before they could be placed in a bag. Scooping her change from the tray, Faith turned and headed for the exit, glad to be leaving. As she paused to stuff the coins in her pocket, her fingers closed around a forgotten pack of gum. Pulling it out, she found two sticks of Cinnaburst smushed inside. She stuffed one in her mouth and was shoving the other back in her pocket when the back of her neck prickled. She tensed immediately and searched the place for the eyes upon her, relaxing her stance when she saw it was just some kid.
The little girl stared openly, eying Faith's attire with interest. She clutched a ratty-looking blanket to her chest and smiled sweetly at Faith.
Faith looked away quickly, her gaze falling to the softly-smudged picture in her hands. She stared at the way the mother's fingers curved gently around the baby's stomach.
"I like gum," the girl stated suddenly.
The mother's hair looked so soft.
"Red gum is my favorite," the girl added hopefully, sending another winning smile Faith's way.
Faith raised her head to find the girl still staring at her. With one more glance at the picture, Faith swallowed and reached back into her pocket. Withdrawing the stick of gum, she held it out awkwardly to the little girl.
"Uh, here. You can have it." She was just standing there with her arm out like an idiot, like the kid was really going to - but she did! The girl's eyes lit up and she reached for Faith's hand.
"Melissa!" The reprimand was sharp and came out of nowhere. "What do you think you're doing?" A woman was pushing her way through the crowd and Faith's heart sank when she recognized her. Perfect, it was the pissed-off one from before.
The girl had snatched her hand away at the sound of her mother's voice and was now staring at the floor guiltily.
"Haven't I told you a million time never to take - oh, it's you." The woman's tone became harsher. "What are you, some kind of pervert?"
"I was just -" Faith started to protest.
"I mean, preying on little kids on Christmas Eve? You people never stop, do you?"
"'You people'? Look, lady, she -"
"Were you even going to pay for that?" she asked, gesturing toward the print and frame in Faith's hands. "It's bad enough you go around flaunting yourself in those clothes." The woman looked over Faith's outfit with disgust. "I would think I'd be able to bring my daughter out in public without her being corrupted!"
Faith couldn't help but follow her eyes. Combat boots, black leather pants, wife-beater, black leather jacket. What the hell was the lady's problem?
"Listen, I wear what I wanna wear." Faith finally found her footing. "You don't like it, that's your problem."
The woman pursed her lips and grabbed her daughter's elbow. "Melissa, we're leaving. Right now." She stalked out of the store, irritably shoving her way past the other shoppers and dragging the girl behind her.
Faith stared after her, swallowing her rage. She concentrated on lightening her grip, trying not to crumple the print in her hand. Her fist closed around the stick of gum and she flung it bitterly to the floor. She kept her gaze on it for a second, but then tossed her head back up, glaring defiantly at the oblivious patrons around her. Jaw clenched but head held high, she headed once more for the exit.
As she reached for the handle, she suddenly caught her reflection in the window. She took in the angry-eyed girl staring back at her. Chewing the inside of her lip, Faith once again examined her uniform, frowning when she saw a new scuff on her boot. So they weren't from the Gap. There was nothing wrong with her leathers. She scrutinized the crowd of people around her, then returned to her own image in the window. Maybe she should …well, it wasn't like she was never gonna wear leather again. But maybe tonight she could tone it down a little.
Faith craned her neck to get a glimpse of the wall clock. She had time. If she wanted to go home and change, that is. She had time if she felt like changing. With one more dubious look in the window, Faith clutched the Cassatt and walked out of the store, retracing her steps home.