Adjustment

by Dana Poole Rules

Post Series Finale - the gang moves away but still sticks together and they adjust to being reg. ppl - involves the characters in more of a 'living together' atmosphere and those types of issues that they would have. Ships: FW to FX, some WK, and B?

22. Part XXII

Adjustment – Part XXII

The buzz going throughout Slayer HQs was undeniable after Xander left. Everyone was talking about it but no one wanted anyone else to know they were talking about it. It was actually quite comical to watch two people such as Kennedy and Andrew discussing it and Wood would walk by and the room would be silent even though both of them would be discussing the issue with him in a matter of moments anyhow.

Kennedy was both thrilled and a little scared of the entire situation. She wanted nothing else but for them to be back together but she knew it wasn't going to be an easy accomplishment. And she wasn't about to assume she had any idea what Faith had been up to since she had been in LA. She knew Faith wasn't over Xander – she doubted she ever would be – and she couldn't blame her. It made her a little nervous though – and she knew it had to be exponentially worse for Xander – just to think of the type of situation he was walking into in LA.

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The blaring music, the thick smell of liquor in the air, and the endless faces… are bars a great place or what? Faith walked into the bar feeling quite at home. It was one of LA's sleazier joints, kind of a club gone wrong atmosphere. It was too big to be just a bar but it seemed that the crowd attracted to the place was mostly there for the liquor. Tables and chairs covered the majority of the old dance floor filled with people who wanted to be right at the bar but showed up a little too late. Faith had showed up a hell of a lot later than anyone else who was there – most of them were already fairly boozed-up – but she didn't have any trouble getting a seat right at the bar. She walked over and by the time she was telling the bartender what she wanted, several men sitting around her quickly stood up and offered their seats. She sat down in the nearest one only giving the guy a quick nod of appreciation.

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"I don't speed," Xander announced to himself in the car as he drove ninety five miles an hour down the expressway. He was only thirty miles out from LA and he wasn't even going to look at the clock to find out what time it was because then he might have to admit that his last statement was false. His head was absolutely swimming with thoughts all only connected to each other because they somehow had to do with Faith. "I'm sure Giles drives fast too," he assured himself. "Good," he mocked himself, "Faith kills people, am I going to start doing that too?"

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Faith made eyes with a guy sitting a few seats away in the bar. He was a big guy with his jet black hair spiked up in the front concluding for her quickly that he thought he was real hot stuff. She wasn't saying that he wasn't really good looking, but it was clear by that and a lot more that he wasn't exactly the humble type. He was wearing dark jeans with a dark green muscle shirt under a leather jacket. He had a chain around his neck and almost always a cigarette in his hand… it was fairly obvious why he had caught her eye.

He had been looking over at her since she walked in but she started by just giving him unappreciative glances as she drank. He was with about five other friends, most of which were about as good looking as he was but they were all clearly not very nice guys. They had the whole badass façade going nicely for them but she could tell – since she had been around plenty of guys like them – that they weren't just for show. They had done some dirty dealings and they liked it. But hey, she wasn't going to lie… it's not like she wasn't entirely aware of how that felt.

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"Okay…" Xander stated to himself – yes, Xander liked to talk to himself in the car – "just how big can LA be?" He drove down a couple of streets, all of which seemed to be main streets. Willow had given him directions to the Wolfram & Hart building but he had a strange anxious feeling working frantically inside of him. He eased it down knowing it was probably just him being scared out of his mind about walking up to Faith again and saying, 'hey, guess what? I lied about lying to you when I said I loved you…' especially knowing what she could do to him. He began having huge doubts as he drove slowly through the busy streets. What if she didn't want him back anymore? What if she hated him? There were plenty of what if's running through his mind but suddenly they all disappeared as he quickly stopped at a red light. He looked over to his left and saw a club without a sign that was only identifiable as such through the flashing lights coming out of the front door when people exited. He didn't know why but the place had her name written all over it.

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Making eyes quickly turned into talking and flirting as the entire crew of guys migrated over to where Faith was sitting. The name of the guy with the green shirt turned out to be Paul; he took the seat right next to her and quickly shed his leather jacket showing off his very muscular build and assortment of tattoos scattered on his arms and shoulders. Their conversation had began with the usual, 'where'd you get your tat done?' to a little more hands on. The drinks continued to come and the entire lot of them appeared like they had known each other for ages.

Faith was in her element. She had aimed low when she set out from W&H, only wanting a hottie – now she had a whole six of them hanging out around her talking like crazy as if she cared.

"Damn, baby, you going to be able to stand up?" Paul asked as she downed probably her twelfth shot.

"You should've said you liked to do it standing up earlier," she joked more with the rest of his friends than with him. She knew his type well – probably better than the back of her hand. He stood there battling with himself whether to be pissed off that she was joking at him or to be pleased that she was talking about sleeping with him. He decided a little too sluggishly, "So you going to sit over there and pout all night or are you going to come over here and buy me another drink?" He bit his lip – a gesture to show he was pissed off that she was pushing his buttons, since she had been doing it since he had walked over – but he stood up and moved so he was standing right next to her.

"Yo," he called out loudly to the bartender.

"Yeah?" the guy asked behind the bar a little pissed at his attitude.

"How many times do I got to say it? I don't want to see this girl with an empty glass in front of her. Understand?"

"You don't have to cop an attitude with me," the bartender answered trying to settle the quickly arising tension. The other five guys who were hanging with Paul began to stand up, ready to raise trouble if Paul gave them the signal.

"If I see her glass empty again you're going to see me cop more than just a fucking attitude, alright?" The bartender responded by placing another shot and a Jack&Coke in front of Faith on the bar. She blew the bartender a kiss before turning to Paul with an almost smile – you couldn't let them know you were happy with them too soon.

"That better?" Paul asked putting his arm around her neck and dancing his finger down her jaw.

"When'd you get that one done?" she asked, dismissing his question and raising her hand up to his shoulder. She moved the material of his shirt slightly to the side to expose the entire black cross wrapped in barbed wire tattoo.

"'Bout four months ago," he answered clearly liking the fact that she was touching him. She gently bit her lower lip before looking up at him and smiling seductively.

"Paul, I'll be back in a minute," one of the other guys called out to him over the loud music. Paul nodded and the guy bent over and kissed Faith's shoulder gently then whispered in her ear, "I'll be right back." She turned away from Paul and towards this other guy,

"I'll try not to miss you too much." He smiled and turned walking away with two other guys, leaving only two still at the bar with Paul. Faith turned back to Paul who had taken a step away from her since she turned. He was completely unsure of his ground with her and she was fine with it that way. He was comfortable enough on his own, she didn't need to foster that.

Xander walked into the club quickly realizing it was probably more of a bar than anything else. There didn't seem to be anyone dancing and the lights seemed to just be helping people with their nausea once they had had too many drinks. He heard the bartender call over towards him and realized it was meant for the bouncer standing only a few feet away from him.

"Start clearing them out, the cops are going to start showing up… there's too many people in here!" he called over from behind the bar.

"Okay," the bouncer answered. Xander looked over towards the bartender as he spoke and the air seemed to be pulled out of his lungs. Before he could pride himself in knowing her so well to be able to look at a bar from the outside and know she was probably in it he was taken aback to see what she was doing. He saw Faith sitting at the center of the bar and it seemed like all the guys that weren't touching her were staring at her. There were at least a hundred people crowded between him and her but the strange slope on the floor made him higher so that he had a better view that he wanted.

"What are you doing standing all the way over there?" she asked teasingly as she touched his stomach gently before gliding her hand down and grabbing his thick, brown, leather belt. She pulled him closer to her until his leg was touching her arm because he was standing so close. The stool she was sitting on was high but she was still well below his height and she could tell he liked being able to look down at her.

"Hey," he questioned confidently, "you wanna go outside?"

"Told you I knew you liked it standing up," she joked. He laughed and pulled her off of the stool into him. She stood there pressed against him tightly looking up at him – inside her head she had to admit he definitely wasn't Xander, but maybe that's what she needed right now. Xander was a million miles away and didn't want anything to do with her and she had to get used to that.

"I'm ready."

"I can tell," she answered with a grin.

Xander felt the rage quickly accelerate through his body as he saw her with that other guy. He didn't realize how much that would bother him – but he was quickly finding out. Who the hell did that guy think he was touching her like that?

"Hey, buddy," the bouncer called from behind Xander. "If you're not going to go get a drink I gotta ask you to leave. We're crowded."

"My girlfriend's over there," he answered. He wasn't sure why he answered that way but it just sort of slipped out. The bouncer looked over to the bar and saw Faith with Paul.

"Buddy, that's not your girl."

"Why do you say that?"

"She's hot. You're… you've got the whole eye thing… she's a hot Hollywood girl. Lemme tell you, these girls don't want guys like us… she wants a guy like that," he said pointing towards Paul. "See," he added as the two of them began to make their way towards the back door. "A girl like that wants a hot guy with big pockets…"

Sirens could just barely be heard from far off in the distance of the city. Word got out fast when this place was overcrowded. Due to the usual clientele, the police were usually overly aware of everything going on in this place and took any opportunity they could to write them a summons.

"Listen, buddy, I gotta kick you out. There's too many people in here…"

"Yeah," Xander answered never taking his eye off of Faith leaving through the other door. He backed out of the entrance trying to keep sight of her as long as he could. Finally he walked out and turned, walking quickly towards the left of the building. He got almost all the way around but he hit a high gate with a chain around it. There was no way through it. He cursed loud enough for anyone nearby to hear and quickly detoured around the other way to find the way to the back.

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Faith walked out the door with Paul right behind her. He had his hands around her waist and pulled her to a stop right at the door. She turned and watched him make a small barricade on the door so no one could come out the way they had.

"I don't want anyone bothering us," he explained. She nodded – the whole night had been full of signs that he wasn't exactly the safest guy in the world, but as far as she was concerned at this point, what guy was?

He stepped forward and kissed her forcefully and quickly walking her backwards towards a brick wall. They hit the wall with a forceful thud, one she knew would leave a bruise, but it felt good. He ran his hands all over her body – pressing hard against her. She continued to push Xander out of her head – it had been a long time since a guy had touched her this way but it's what she needed and what she wanted right now. She needed something that was going to make her forget all the sweet, soft, loving things she had gotten way too used to, and bring back the part of her that craved this physical foreplay. She ran her hand under his shirt and up to his chest stroking it forcefully and scrapping her nails against his flesh.

He grabbed at the waist of her jeans and unbuttoned them without a problem – obviously a little bit of a pro. As she raised her hand up his chest she reached the bottom of his chain necklace and tugged on it lightly. He pulled away from the kiss but still kept her firmly planted against the wall with his thighs and legs. She looked up at him and he undid the chain necklace and put it up against her neck. She watched him skeptically knowing these kinds of things usually didn't get you any nice presents like a necklace. Place a few preliminary kisses on her neck he fastened the chain around her neck. It was a lot heavier than it looked on him but she liked it.

She was quickly caught off guard as he grabbed the necklace in one of his hands and pulled it tight against her neck quickly making it hard for her to breathe. In the same movement that he jerked the chain against her throat he reached behind his back and pulled out a knife.

"I like it rough, what can I say?" he said staring into her eyes.

"Doesn't anyone just want to fuck anymore?" She shoved him as much as she could with her left hand against his shoulder causing him to step back a few steps. He lunged forward with the knife and she blocked it with her right hand, feeling the sharp blade cut through her skin.

Xander ran around the corner of the building hearing a scream that he knew belonged to Faith. It wasn't loud or high pitched but he could tell it was filled with more fear than she would ever admit. He turned the corner and saw the knife cut through her hand viciously.

When he lunged forward and cut her hand – she had grabbed the knife trying to pull it out of his grasp, making the wound deeper, but she hadn't been able to get it away from him. Knowing it was futile to cut her hand any more than she already had, using the same momentum he had when he lunged at her she pushed his back in the same direction sending him straight into the brick wall they had both just been leaning against.

Then she heard it. The sickening sound she had become more familiar with than she would've ever wanted. She heard the throaty gasp as he hit the wall and she knew he wouldn't be turning around again. He remained standing for a few more moments but then quickly fell down in a heap. The knife was right into his chest – probably right through his heart. There was blood everywhere in an instant. She realized she hadn't taken a breath in a long time and when she started again they were quick and fairly useless.

"Faith," Xander called as he ran up to her. Everything had happened so quickly, he hadn't stopped running since he heard her scream but just now he was reaching her. She turned to him quickly but without a response. He could tell she was quickly drifting into shock as he looked down at the dead body by her feet.

The sirens that could be heard in a distance were now right out front and Xander knew it. He grabbed her, knowing she wasn't going to be able to move. His heart screamed knowing what she must be going through. For Faith to not even be able to act indifferent to something but to stand there unable to think, he didn't even have the right to pretend he knew how she felt.

"Faith, we gotta go. Now!" he screamed grabbing her waist and pulling her down the ally he had just come from. She followed him in what seemed like a daze – she couldn't think or feel. She just knew there was a dead guy and it was because of her. She had killed again – after all she had been through, she did it again! It didn't matter that she didn't mean it or that it was in self defense – they weren't going to care. They were just going to chalk it up as another murder to add to her list. She didn't know where she was going or why but she just went where she was being pulled. Her legs were numb and the only reason she was even moving was because he was practically carrying her the entire time.

As they made it back onto the street they heard several police officers on their radios calling something in. She could only guess that someone had walked to the back of the building and found Paul. Xander must've heard the new bustle of noise not that far from them because she felt him adjust his grip on her waist and push her stronger, urging her to go faster. She didn't even know why they were bothering to run away. Running never worked… it just didn't. As much as she did it she knew it didn't work. She was tired of running away. They were just going to find her and lock her up for the rest of her life anyway.

Xander just kept urging her forward not allowing himself to over-think the situation because all he knew was that they needed to get out of there, and fast.

"Faith, let's go! Come on… come on," he pushed. They ran along the back of an ally and down a few side streets until the atmosphere became less glitzy and much more rundown. She didn't know where they were going and she didn't really care. He could be running her straight into a jail cell and she wouldn't know. Who knew, maybe he was.

It both felt like forever and a single moment when they stopped running. Xander stopped by a building in a parking lot trying to catch his breath. He mostly looked down at the ground as he regained his composure avoiding any eye contact with her.

"Okay, we can stay here… I can't run anymore." She looked around for the first time and noticed they were in the parking lot of a really run down looking motel strip. "Let's go get a key," he suggested but quickly revoked it once he looked at her. Her hand was bleeding really badly and judging by the expression on her face, it hurt equally as badly. He led her over to the corner of the building of the boxcar style rooms – it was shadowed and out of sight. "Faith," he said firmly making her look up at him. "Don't move," he demanded. She didn't even blink in response just returned her dazed focus onto the pavement. He looked at her hand again, the blood dripping from it almost in a steady stream. "Hold it," he instructed picking her other hand up to it. She did so but didn't look up at him with a response.

He hesitantly left her there and walked quickly over to the management office. It was small and damp with clustered papers and various other things. There was even a random pillow thrown in the corner of the floor for whatever reason. Hopefully the rooms were better than the office. It was a doubtful hope, but he had to hope.

"Excuse me," he called over to the man behind the makeshift counter. He was intently watching a small, portable, black and white television set. With the adrenaline pumping through his veins and the thought of Faith standing out there alone with a badly wounded hand he quickly became less polite. "Hey, I need a room!"

"We're full," the guy answered smugly.

"This place is full?" he asked doubtingly. The guy's girlfriend got up off of a chair and walked towards the counter.

"Nice eyepatch," she mentioned flirtatiously. She snapped her gum loudly and let out a little giggle.

"I need a room."

"Fifty bucks."

"Fine," he answered pulling his wallet out of his pocket. He put sixty down on the counter in twenties.

"Don't have any change."

"Fine, give me a nice room," he sardonically answered. That got a laugh out of both of them and she tossed a key down in front of him.

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The phone rang and Willow picked it up. Kennedy watched from the next room. It was either Xander of Buffy – she could tell since Willow almost immediately migrated upstairs out of earshot from everyone else.

"How's Xander doing?" Buffy asked curiously.

"Why do you ask?" Willow asked, knowing it couldn't just be a coincidence.

"We had a small fight… but it was weird, it was more of a talk."

"Well, he's in LA right now."

"Are you kidding?"

"No. Who knows what he's doing… Faith called and I told him and he basically ran out of the door. But she didn't sound good. I had to tell him…"

"What do you mean?"

"She sounded terrible. Like she hadn't slept since she left or something… I was worried and apparently so was he."

"Will, I have a really strange question."

"Life is full of strange questions. Go for it."

"Why does everyone assume she's better in bed than me? I mean, I'm not really looking for answer or a comparison or anything… but, you know, you said it a while ago. Why's Faith the 'do that' girl?"

"Well, I… I guess you can really just look at her and know," Willow answered with a small laugh. "Why do you care that people think she's good in bed?"

"It bothers me… it's just assumed that she's better than everyone and… I don't know."

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"Come on," Xander said appearing around the corner of the building. She was in the same spot still holding her hand like he told her to but he could tell she was starting to feel the effects of losing so much blood. She didn't move at his request but looked up at him this time.

"I didn't mean it… I really didn't… I-"

"Faith, we have to get you inside," he said firmly cutting her off. She balked, leaning back against the wall away from him but he stepped forward and wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her forward again. They walked along the line of rooms until they came to room nine. Xander quickly unlocked the door and made her go in first. He took a quick look around outside to make sure there wasn't anything suspicious going on then entered the room. He noted that it contained a very similar odor to the office he had just been in as he turned and locked the door tightly, flipping the light on. At first he was mad at how dim it was but then he realized it might be a good thing to not draw attention to their room. He slid all of the shades closed so no one could look in then turned to see how she was doing. Now that they were somewhere considerably safer than outside he could allow himself to think about her again.

She was standing off to the side of the room looking down at her hand. The blood was pooling outside of her gripped hand and drawing streaks of red down her uncut hand. He allowed himself to be distracted momentarily, lingering his gaze on her face. Her face was practically covered in a nervous sweat and even now as she stood there trying to mask her panic he could see her chest struggling to maintain an even rhythm of breath. She caught his eye as he looked at her face for several long moments.

"I didn't mean it," she managed to say through her broken and dry tone. "I didn't mean to kill him… I was just…"

"Let's clean up your hand," he answered almost coldly. He heard his voice and the hard tone in which he delivered the plain statement. It was all he could do to not let his shaking legs give underneath him. The adrenaline pumping through his body was leaving its aftereffect now and his muscles felt weak and fatigued but his brain was still racing with everything that had just happened.

"Xander, I didn't-" she began to argue. He stepped towards her grabbing her arm and pulled her along side him towards the bathroom. He turned the light on to show the dirty tiled floor and the unkempt sink. He turned the water on, wanting to let it run for a moment, then turned back to her. He avoided looking directly into her eyes because he didn't want to acknowledge all the emotions running through him. He wanted to be able to help her and take care of her then he could worry about himself. That was the way he had always been… it was the same for their relationship too in a way. He spent so much time worrying about her and what she was going through that he ignored himself until it was too intense to ignore anymore.

"I didn't mean it," she repeated, needing desperately to know he believed her. "I swear…"

"Give me your hand," he stated in a detached tone. She didn't move so he reached down and gripped her wrist, guiding it almost forcefully towards the running water. A part of her just wanted to completely submit to him and let him just take care of her but as usual that was the unheard part of her. She quickly jerked her hand away from him defiantly, probably far more aggressively than she needed to – her strength being exponentially more than his – and as she jerked it upward she smacked it painfully into the edge of the wall.

What was originally anger quickly changed into a painful knot in his stomach as he heard what could only be described as a whimper escape her lips. She grabbed her hand again and turned her face away from him and towards the room rather than the bathroom. The pain shooting through her hand made tears threaten to fall down her cheeks but with a clenched jaw and forced breath she held them on the brink.

She had become used to people backing off and leaving her alone when she was angry or acting standoffish so it was a real shock when she felt him reach around and grab her wrist again and pull it towards the water. The shock was enough that she let him do so without any hesitation or defense.

"You're always so damn stubborn," he muttered, bringing her hand under the cold water. It stung and she quickly jerked her hand but this time he held fast and she gave in. He held her hand there for several moments only letting it go when he knew she wouldn't take it away. He grabbed a towel that was hanging up on the rack and walked over to the wall she had just hit her hand against. "Making a mess," he muttered again as he wiped the blood off of the wall. She watched him as his back was turned – he was tense. His hand shook slightly as he cleaned the wall and the free hand trembled noticeably as it hung at his side. It didn't make her feel any better though – she was freaking out just about as much as he was. She still felt like she couldn't breathe and her heart was racing even as she stood there completely still.

He turned back towards her then nervously glanced back at the wall as if he were checking to make sure it was still clean. He walked over and stood right beside her looking down into the sink at her hand. He put his hand to hers and turned it so he could see the cut better; it was deep – she was a Slayer and it was still bleeding pretty badly. It had started to slow but the drain was still taking down red liquid. Feeling his body against hers she glanced over at him and asked,

"What are you doing here?" for the first time.

"Saving your ass, I guess," he stated plainly. He wasn't looking at her, he still had his eyes fixed down at the sink but he felt her tilt her head towards him as if to rest it on his shoulder. He quickly walked away from the sink before she did. He glanced around for something clean to wrap her hand with.

She took a breath trying to keep herself as calm as she could. All signs were pointing directly at the fact that he wasn't all that thrilled to see her. She had just slowly begun to realize that it was actually him – with everything that had happened, and so quickly, she had hardly even connected the fact that he was here, in LA, obviously for only a handful of possible reasons. But it was pretty obvious that right now he didn't want to be bothered. She needed someone right now – this was all just a little too much for her to handle. She had gone out tonight just for the sake of helping her deal with some of the shit going on in her head and now it was worse. Him just being here was all that was keeping her from going absolutely ballistic and both of them were fairly aware of that.

She looked up at the dirty mirror just over the sink and the shiny, chain necklace grabbed her attention forcefully. She immediately picked both of her hands up in a panic reaching to get it off of her. She could feel the cut in her hand tearing open again, undoing any healing that had occurred since it happened, and the blood drip onto her neck and collarbone. Her knees went numb and she felt like she was going to pass out.

"Get it off of me! Get it off! Get off! Just get it off!" she yelled in a state of sheer panic bordering hysterics. He heard the sudden movement and looked over at her and quickly realized what had set her off. Without a word he went up behind her – just his body against hers immediately calmed her nerves to a certain extent,

"I got it… I'll make it go away," he assured her soothingly, yet in his own form of a panic stricken tone, as he unfastened it and took it off her neck quickly. He put the chain in his jean pocket and put her hand back under the water. His soothing tone wasn't something she was unfamiliar with but it seemed to come out of nowhere from his previous coldness. She stared in the dirty mirror fixatedly, as though she was scared the necklace was going to appear with it's owner around her neck again. Her mind began to viciously play with her – she could practically feel his lips on her neck kissing her with the strong smell of liquor so close to her face emanating off of him as though he had put the scent on as a perfume or body spray.

Xander continued to occupy himself in looking for a something clean to wrap her hand with. He glanced back over at her hearing the tenseness of her breathing from across the room. He looked at her reflection in the mirror as well and watched her pick her other hand up and try and wipe away the blood from her neck and chest. He walked over with the towel he used to clean the wall,

"Here," he offered almost coldly again. She stared at him – what seemed to be – blankly then took the towel from him and replaced her eyes upon the mirror. She stared into it as she wiped the blood off of her streaming the calming phrase, 'it's okay, stop it, it's okay,' repeatedly through her mind to keep from screaming. She felt like just shrieking and she couldn't. Even if she let herself there probably wouldn't be anything left to come out.

Finally giving up on the attempt to find anything clean anywhere in this room he unbuttoned his flannel over shirt and quickly took it off. He had a white, cotton undershirt on that he guessed would be the best thing to wrap it with. He pulled it over his head, draping his other shirt on the rack. He walked back to her, standing right next to her and he felt her shaking.

"You cold?"

"No," she answered quietly, shaking her head.

"You're shaking," he stated as he turned off the water. He rolled his shirt so it was like a long strip of material and laid it flat across her hand.

"Little bit," she answered, watching him carefully wrap his shirt around her hand. "So are you," she added, gently touching his bare stomach with her other hand. She stroked his stomach slowly and delicately with her fingers, watching them as she drew small, abstract shapes on his skin. Small bumps formed on his skin reacting to the delicate touch of her fingers.

"Well, I'm cold," he answered firmly. He finished wrapping her hand and stepped back from her touch. He wanted to bring up the fact that he had watched her with her hands all over another guy only a short time ago but he knew better than to bring up the now dead guy. She stepped forward towards him trying to connect her hand to his skin again, fixating her glance on his stomach very similarly as she did to the mirror. He turned away from her and reached for his shirt – he wanted her; he could barely lie to her, he certainly couldn't lie to himself. He had wanted her since the day she left… hell, he had wanted her since the first time he laid eyes on her… it's why he drove out here as fast as he could. He missed her – all he wanted was to be able to hold her and touch her but he was still shaking because of what had happened. And he could tell she was freaked.

"Xander, I need somebody," she admitted, walking back up to him and touching his waist with her hand. She ran her other hand carefully – due to the cut – on his chest up towards his shoulder, and leaned towards him. "I need you."

"Somebody sounds more like it," he answered stepping away from her again.

"I didn't mean it… I didn't want to kill him, he just-"

"I saw the whole thing."

"You did?" she asked, her tone slightly relieved.

"Yeah, I did. I even saw you two inside."

"Baby, I… I was just-"

"Faith, we're not together. It doesn't matter. It's fine," he answered both bitterly and cold.

"It's not fine!" she yelled walking away from him. She walked back into the bedroom, "I'm freaking out here! I don't know what to do… I need you. I need to cool down, and you think it's okay to play like this? I can't-" she stammered pacing around the room frantically, barely making sense with what she was saying. She fidgeted as she walked, rolling her head back and forth and moving her uncut hand spasmodically.

"You need to calm down," he cautioned walking after her. The last thing they needed was to make a scene.

"I know," she admitted turning to face him. "Please, Xander… just take me," she practically begged. "I need you and I need it now … just this once, okay?"

"Faith," he calmed stepping up to her closely and touching her arms. "Stop, okay?" he pleaded, the familiar warmth returning to his tone. Hearing her practically whine 'just this once, okay?' he was surprised he didn't start to cry. He literally could only liken her tone to a drug attic begging to borrow money when she still owed payment from the last loan. He felt like her voice made his wall that he put up in front of her just crumble. He loved her so much and seeing and hearing her, clearly in just so much pain and need he wanted to do anything that would make it better.

"Just…" she began as she guided his lips towards her neck. Her voice disappeared as his lips met her neck softly. "I need you so bad," she murmured softly in his ear as he kissed her neck.

"I love you," he whispered into the warm skin of her neck. She immediately turned stiff as a rod and shook her head softly against his.

"Stop it," she sighed as she shied away from him and lifted her hand up to his face and pushed him slightly away from her neck to make her protest clear. She touched his face ever so gently that he wasn't sure how to react. They had been through this all before; it was a tough thing to judge for him. She hated hearing it when she didn't think it was completely genuine, but she absolutely loved hearing it when she knew it was the truth.

"Sorry," he apologized not knowing how else to handle it. Here he was with the girl he was madly in love with wrapped in his arms as she's going through more than any person should ever have to and he said something that he knows triggers a defense in her head. He didn't understand it but he accepted it because he knew it honestly came from a reflex inside of her and it completely shut her down if it wasn't obeyed.

His tone was soft and caressing and he slowly brought his face back to hers and kissed the corner of her mouth delicately.

"Just take me," she demanded, as though she snapped off the trigger. He couldn't and wouldn't ignore his emotions anymore – but in the back of his mind he knew he didn't like how she was approaching all of this. It made him uncomfortable, the way she was acting, but he accepted it, knowing how much she was affected by the events of that night. One thing the two of them certainly had in common though was that – both of them dealt with it differently but – they were extremely emotional people. He walked her back until they reached one of the walls with a slight thud. She moaned softly into his hair as he continued to devour her neck while running his hands up and down her body. She reached for the buttons on her shirt but quickly stopped, realizing the attempt was futile with the makeshift bandage on her hand. He quickly raised his hands to the buttons on her shirt and undid them kissing her skin at each button as he undid them. As he moved down her stomach she leaned her head back against the wall tak

ing deep breaths and tilting her gaze down to watch him. As the last button was undone he retraced his path until he was standing erectly eyelevel with her.

She reached her unwounded hand forward and grabbed his hip, pulling him closer to her before starting to pull on his belt and undo his pants. He knew full well that she only needed one hand to get his pants undone so he ran both of his hands through her hair, holding the sides of her face firmly as he kissed her. He kissed her stronger than he ever had before – he didn't know why but the heat of the moment, what had happened that night, and what had kept them apart for weeks made him feel rushed and hungry. He wanted her so badly he could barely stand it.

He felt his jeans fall to the ground and by the time he got one of his hands untangled from her hair and down to her hips he only needed to help push her tighter pants down. He thought he wanted her right now! – she quickly proved that she needed him a lot faster. He motioned to go over to the bed and she practically scolded him, pulling him into her again. So he took her right there, standing up only a few feet away from a bed… it was too far away for her. She moaned urgingly as he took her – she leaned reliantly on the bare wall burying her face on the side of his as he panted on and kissed her neck.

The two of them – now so connected it was unbelievable how separate their thoughts were. Xander had for the first time in a very long time allowed himself to just act on his emotions, feeling relieved at the freedom in it and the pleasure. He wanted her so badly for so many reasons. He wanted her back – he missed her and loved her and didn't want to be without her any longer. Seeing her with another guy had infuriated him and only further proven how much he needed her back. When Willow had told him that she didn't sound good, that she was suffering he just couldn't stand it any longer. He knew deep inside of him how much he had hurt her when he broke up with her but hearing it stated so clearly by Willow made alarms go off in his head. With what had happened that night – he still could barely understand everything going on in his head. He had watched everything – he had seen a guy try and really hurt a girl he really loved and then witnessed the girl he loved kill someone. It was a part of her he kn

ew and a part of her that really terrified him on many levels, not just for his own safety but for her own as well. He knew what it did to her inside – it killed her slowly while it made her feel more alive. It fucked with her and he hated it. He made love to her as passionately as he could that night – everything inside of him he wanted it to be with her. He wanted to just forget what had come between them and allow her to have him as she had so willingly given herself to him.

Faith had drifted away quickly after he had said those words – I love you – she continued with what they were doing but inside she had switched herself off. She didn't see it that way… not anymore. She wouldn't let herself do that again. Hearing those words escape his lips and run right into her ears reminded her of what she had thought they had in the past… the feelings of so much good and comfort lasted but only a small second before all of the pain and heartbreak fell upon it like a cascade of bricks.

They say a person loses consciousness in various catastrophic accidents because the person is unable to handle the amount of pain being imposed on their body at that time. Really that is exactly what Faith does – it's too much pain to deal with so she switches off internally, only to come back when the pain is rationed out in smaller doses.

As much as she wanted to let herself feel like it was him again – just like it had been when they were together – she couldn't let herself do it. It was like a switch had been hit and it was all just blank… it didn't matter, even if she wanted it to. When he touched her it was bad versus good, there weren't the layers and complicated feelings involved.

It was very different from anything they had ever done before. Even the first time they were ever together – it was soft. That's not to say it wasn't rushed and short lived – as the situation called for – but it was still sweet. He was such a gentleman it was hard to make it any other way, especially when he didn't know any different. When they had been together it ranged from soft and slow to passionate and long… when they were together she let it mean something. She learned from that mistake already.

That's not to say that the situation wasn't challenging her denial based skills. Her subconscious must've been working on overload to be able to convince her that he was no different from any of the others… because he was just that. He was completely different. He loved her… that alone made the way he treated her while he was with her entirely different. But as hard as it was, through pent up anger and frustration and rage and hate she was able to make the nicest feelings be discarded and turned into meaningless junk in her mind. She wanted it to mean nothing – and the fact that it meant so much to him made it so hard – but as she said, 'lifetime of practice.' She was able to turn everything he had done – because he loved her and cared about her so much – into meaningless crap that every guy had done to her just because they wanted to use her and leave her. She used his passionate, almost rough, style against him as him just interested in himself and that night, when from an outside perspective – one

she wasn't completely unaware of – he wasn't doing anything wrong.

Catching his breath he looked at her face, looking deeply into her eyes as he held her body close to his. She looked into his eyes for a short moment then changed her gaze onto his chest. He looked down at her hair and ran his fingers through it carefully, pulling it away from one side of her face. He lowered his head and kissed her cheek gently then rubbed her face with his thumb, still holding her hair back with that hand.

He watched her knowing he would never stop being amazed by how beautiful she was. Her shoulders rose and fell slightly with her forced breath and her lips were just barely parted as she stared at his chest. She was still wearing a black bra under her shirt which was only unbuttoned, not taken off. It was a very dark red shirt which was fitted and had a collar with buttons the entire way down. He looked slightly to the side and saw that it was also short sleeved as opposed to the sleeveless shirts he had become accustomed to seeing her wear. He noted in his mind that it seemed almost strange to see her and not be able to see the tattoo on her arm in it's entirety – it was slightly covered by the sleeve.

"Are you alright?" he asked softly lowering his head and tilting it slightly trying to get her to look at him.

"I'm fine," she answered lifting her lips up to his before he could even look into her eyes. He rubbed her cheek lovingly with his thumb as she kissed him, walking him back towards the bed. Getting the hint that she was far from finished, he ran his hand on the side of her waist up her back behind the shirt and slowly took it off of her, kissing her lovingly as he did. He felt the bed hit the back of his legs and he stopped walking but didn't rush taking her shirt off – he loved just kissing her too. She tried to rush him by beginning to take the shirt off on her own but he continued to help her slide it off her arms behind her back, keeping his chest close against hers. As it fell to the floor he brought his hands up to her side running his hands over the lacy material of her bra, remembering how many times he had felt the material and the curves it covered.

He parted his lips from hers and began to softly kiss the front of her neck as he slowly ran his hands over her bra, tracing it behind her back and over her shoulders with his gentle fingers. He was surprised, if not shocked when he felt her hands press roughly on his shoulders then push him back forcefully onto the bed. As a reflex his arms wrapped around her back and pulled her down with him. He landed on the bed on his back looking up at her; she landed on top of him with one hand planted next to his face supporting her upper body as she pushed her hair out of her face with the other. He noticed the hand she used to move her hair didn't have the bandage on it, meaning the one that did was what she was holding herself up with. He went to say something, not wanting her to hurt herself just to please him but he was quickly silenced as she lowered herself to him and engulfed his mouth with hers.

-----------

"Need a cocktail?" Lorne asked as he sat down in one of the overstuffed, leather sofa chairs in Angel's office. Angel seemed to snap out of his daze he had drifted into. Wesley had been in there with him practically the entire night and Lorne had come in a drink or two earlier. Gunn and Fred were playing a friendly game of cards over one of the coffee tables, sitting cross legged on the floor. Angel looked at his watch again and then up at Wesley almost pleadingly,

"It's almost four… she should be back by now."

"Maybe they asked her to stay the night," Gunn muttered to Fred. Despite his attempt to keep what he said quiet, the tension in the room seemed to carry his voice to everyone else's ears.

"She said she was going out, did she not?" Wesley asked in the tone he had managed to maintain all night long as Angel had began worrying around midnight.

"It's almost four in the morning!"

"Next time you'll be sure to give her a curfew…"

"I don't need the sarcasm, Wesley," Angel scolded.

"When I was Faith's watcher I grew very accustomed to accepting when she said she was going out that I would probably not see her till the middle of the next day if I was lucky…"

"What could she be doing?" Angel asked frantically. Gunn exchanged glances with Lorne and Fred then continued his game of cards with Fred.

"What did you think she was going out to do?" Lorne asked in a relaxed tone from chair. "She's a pretty, young girl… let her have some fun."

"Faith having fun in the state she's in… not really all that fun."

"Angel, Faith… she's… she's a…"

"Party animal is the term you're looking for," Gunn inserted in.

"Right," Wesley agreed, "she likes to have a good time… and I don't think the girl's owned a watch since I met her. She just lost track of time and she'll be back-"

"She'd call if she were in trouble, right?" Angel asked, then realized how absurd his idea sounded.

"Angel, she's a big girl," Wesley added, trying to get him to accept the fact that he shouldn't feel like he had to baby-sit her.

"And it's not like she's going to put herself in a bad position or-"

"I don't think there's any new bad situations left for her to get into!"

"Alright, enough," Gunn said standing up. "Faith's a smart girl, okay? Granted I don't know her as good as either of you, but listen – the girls wanted for how many crimes by the federal police? She broke out of a maximum security prison and they still haven't caught her… the girls got some cells working for her," she said pointing to his head as he spoke. "I'm not going to lie, she's probably out there getting completely trashed, she'll find a honey for the night and be back in the morning."

"You think that's okay? You think it's healthy for her to just let someone use her like that and then forget about it in the morning?" Angel asked standing up. Gunn quickly followed up his explanation of how many police were after Faith and he quickly added,

"Angel, she went out because she needed to forget about things… she wanted to get out of here and, want to believe it or not, she wanted to get away from everyone. I doubt she's going to be anywhere she thought anyone would find her… Yeah, you're a vamp and you can creep the night better than anyone, but she's a slayer man, she's not going to be found unless she wants to be. Add together the life she had growing up and the fact that she's an ass-kicking slayer – that girl piss drunk is slicker than all of us put together."

--------------

That had since traded spaces and Xander looked down at her as he hovered over her, thrusting slowing in and out of her. She had one of her arms wrapped around his back and the other around his shoulder holding him tightly against her. He felt her start to tremble softly underneath him and he knew she was reaching her peak. His lips were only a few inches from hers and he could see all of the individual beads of sweat on her face. Slowing his rhythm as he felt her muscles begin to clench against him, he took his hand and wiped her face gently. He ran his hand across her cheek and into her hair, pushing the strands away from her face. She turned her face towards his hand and he could feel her hot, shallow breath against his hand. She began by kissing his hand but as her body began to shake less subtly the kisses became her simply resting her lips gently on his hand, moving them just barely as she breathed.

He had slowly decelerated his motion and he slowly came to a halt and rested his body on top of hers feeling her tremble delicately under him. He stayed inside of her as he rested there looking down at her admiringly. He blinked the focused his gaze on her face. Other than the disappearing trembles she was completely still; he could feel her hot breath on his skin but her chest barely moved. The feel of her body and the smell of her skin were things he remembered so sharply and he didn't know how he could live a day without them. As he looked down at her he couldn't even fathom how he had given her away… he had just pushed her out of his life. He knew he had his reasons why he had done what he had done but they all seemed so unimportant as he lied there inside of her tasting her breath. He missed and loved Anya and he hadn't grieved the way he needed to but why did he need to do that without Faith? And then there was the fact that he knew he couldn't handle losing someone who he loved this much again.

He still struggled with that possibility and that chance of so much pain but he was beginning to realize that the pain of someone else taking her away was only fractionally worse than having himself take her away.

He blinked; the duration of his thoughts had only been between the last time he blinked until this one. She sighed softly before she lifted her lips to his luring him down closer to her. Kissing her was unlike kissing anyone else; she was so powerful and aggressive yet so incredibly sensitive and compensating. It didn't matter how badly or off angle he kissed her at, she compensated for him and still made every kiss incredible.

----------------

"Officer Stevenson, the results to the print sample you asked for came back. There aren't any prints on the knife except his." Stevenson let out a long, tired sigh,

"Alright… umm, do we have statements from anyone?"

"Yes Sir, there were a couple of his friends inside."

"What'd they say?" The younger officer took out his pad of paper and flipped through it for a few moments before answering,

"They all had basically the same story – they said he was in there with a girl, a couple of them left for a few minutes and the ones that stayed said he went outside with her. None of them saw him again… but I do have to add that none of the friends passed any level of the sobriety test."

"He left with a girl?"

"It's a bar, Sir, that's usually the point…" he answered, trying to add some levity to his clearly tired and frustrated boss.

"Get a sketch."

"Excuse me?"

"I want a sketch of the girl… right now she's the only suspect."

"You think a girl, who they described as quote, hot and nice, which I had to have translated to thin, killed him? Sir, with all due respect, that's a big, strong guy…"

"In my years on the job, I've run into a case or two involving a girl who's a hell of a lot stronger than she looks…" his words seemed to sink into his own head and it appeared to click, "get me a sketch, now!"

-------------

"Faith…" he panted. He could barely get any words out he was so out of breath. He knew for a fact he had never had sex so many times in a row in his life – not even in any of his wildest fantasies! The thought that maybe he had never had sex that many times ever was also a possibility… It had been hours since they had even slowed down… both of them were absolutely covered in sweat. He was sore and quickly growing fatigued – he knew he probably didn't even compare next to her level of stamina, but he was tired two hours ago… he knew there was no way she wasn't. He didn't want to stop anything – it felt so good and she clearly had no intention of stopping but he just couldn't go anymore.

She slid up on him, grinding down hard onto him as she did, and brought her lips to his again, covering up his voice. She moved from his lips to his cheek then down to his neck, kissing him ravenously as she maintained the sensual rhythm with her hips. As she felt him cum inside of her again she bit his ear teasingly, barely slowing her rhythm. He brought his arms around her waist and held her close to him trying to slow her to halt. She slowed and changed the rhythm and direction but it was obvious that she again, had no intention of having it end.

"I need a break…" he finally got out as his lips were freed from hers. She stopped and threw her hair back again then lowered her lips to his and kissed him hungrily for a few short minutes. He was relieved when she stopped and kept kissing him – he was scared it would upset her or maybe make her angry, but she seemed to understand. Even the best things in life have to come to an end – he finally understood the true meaning of that saying… He had never experienced something more pleasurable than this but he didn't think he could go any longer. He ran his hands caressingly across her back and waist as she kissed him.

It couldn't have been more than five minutes before she guided herself over him again and began to grind her hips into him.

"Faith," he spoke almost in a plea. She brought her lips just over his and whispered,

"Shhh," soothingly then tilted her head and kissed his neck, never changing her intent.

"Faith, I really can't anymore…" he admitted. He felt almost embarrassed but he felt like he was going to pass out. He just wanted to lie there with her in his arms and catch his breath for hours.

"What?" she snapped surprisingly. She lifted her face away from his, supported again by her bad hand, unnoticed.

"Baby," he explained, definitely embarrassed now, "I'm done… I can't go anymore… I'm sorry."

"You're done?" she asked almost in disgust.

"I'm not a God, Faith. I wish I could be for you, but…"

"Fine," she answered sharply, immediately climbing off of him. He grabbed her by her waist,

"Hey, where are you going? You don't have to-"

"You're done, right?"

"Yeah, but you don't have to get up." He sat up, covering himself with one of the sheets and grabbed her arm as she sat on the side of the bed pulling a sheet around her like a towel.

"You're done," she repeated, "so leave." She quickly stood up and headed towards the bathroom.

"Hey!" Xander scolded, pulling on his shorts and following her towards the bathroom. "What the hell is this?" he asked, still convinced he must've misheard her because he couldn't believe what she was saying. He was filled with a feeling inside that he had only experienced with her and it was a feeling that he hated.

"I told you to get out," she repeated coldly.

"You may have been able to pull this shit years ago, Faith, but you're not going to pull this again."

"Nothing's any different than it was then," she answered, still maintaining a cold and very distant attitude – almost indifferent as though they hadn't literally been making love for the past several hours.

"You can't treat me like I'm just another one on your list, Faith. It doesn't work that way. You can't act like there isn't anything between us because we both know that-"

"So wait, you're lecturing me on what we had?" she asked sardonically, her tone suddenly becoming much more emotional than before. "You mean before you fucked it all up?" she asked in a tone that just spelled out her emotions, probably far more accurately than she would've liked.

"Faith, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, okay?" he pleaded with her. The look in her eyes would've been enough to send him running only a few months ago but he maintained his ground only because his love overcame all of his fear.

"Tough shit… if there's one thing I've learned – second chances don't fucking exist!"

"Faith-"

"No! You're nothing, now, okay? How does it fucking feel to know that you mean nothing? You're on the same level as any other piece of shit that's ever touched me… welcome to the fucking club," she cursed. "You're never going to touch me again," she stated.

"So that's why you didn't want it to end… didn't want to stop. I know you hate it Faith, but I do get you. I understand why you do the things you do, and-" He maintained a soft but firm tone until she cut him off angrily.

"You don't know shit, Xander!"

"I know enough… all of this – it was you just needing to convince yourself that I'm just like all the others… I'll take you and have you and now you want me to leave like all of them do!" he stated angrily. He hated knowing how much pain she was in but he knew… he knew every ounce of pain running through her veins right now. The only reason he was angry was because she was making it so that he couldn't help or make it better – she was using him to just make it worse.

"You hurt me," she answered, a few stray tears finally succeeding in getting away from her hold and running freely down her cheeks. "I didn't need anything else to convince me you were like all the rest. You hurt me more than any of them ever could… I let you."

"Faith…"

"Get out," she demanded angrily. She regained her emotions slightly and wiped the tears from her eyes quickly.

"I'm not going to let it be that easy for you."

"You think this is fucking easy!?"

"Faith-"

"Get out!" He looked at her cautiously – she was the most upset he had ever seen her. Her face had run out of color and she was completely pale as she stood there with shining traces streaked down her face where the tears had made their path. He stood there looking over at her and finally unable to deal with his eyes on her she picked up pieces of her scattered clothing and tossed them towards the bathroom.

"Faith…" he began softly.

"Xander, get out. I don't want to hurt you… please, just get out."

"Look at me," he proceeded, not allowing himself to be intimidated into making the biggest mistake of his life – walking away from her. Too many people had done that to her and he wasn't going to let her put him in that category too. "I want you to just listen to me for one minute, okay?"

"Xander-" she began to argue.

"You're not going to hurt me," he stated confidently. "And if you do, you're not doing it to hurt me… Faith, please… everything in your head, everything that's pointing you in all these different directions… I know you've probably got a thousand things being screamed at you in there… but block it out for one minute and just listen to me. Faith, I love you. I love you more than anyone else in the world. I love you more than I thought I could ever love somebody. I really do. I really love you, Faith."

He stood there, wanting any sign in her features to make it so he could walk up to her and hold her. All he wanted was to hold her and wipe the tears off of her face. His eyes caught sight of her hand with the bandage over it and a knot immediately formed in his chest as he saw the once white shirt covered in blood; he figured she must've reopened the wound again. He searched her face for anything that looked like softening in her tightly held jaw and tense features as she tried to restrain the tears from flowing.

"Get out," she answered firmly then turned and walked into the bathroom closing the door behind her. He stood there dumfounded for several long moments then he had to sit down on the bed to sooth his sudden nausea and anxiety.

After she closed the bathroom door she stood in front of the sink and stared at herself in the mirror. She hated what she saw… she couldn't remember when she had actually enjoyed looking at herself. She stood there, still holding the sheet around her, and took several deep breaths to settle the knot in her throat. She began to acknowledge the feelings racing through her and she became aware of the dull pain making her hands throb. She glanced down at her hand and saw that the shirt was fairly saturated with blood and she immediately averted her eyes and put them back on her reflection in the mirror.

*'Baby?'

'No, mom, it's just me,' she answered as she locked the door behind her to the front of their small apartment. It was almost dusk and there was only a small number of sunrays coming through the windows and through the plastic blinds. She walked into the small bedroom where her mothers voice had come from and stood close to the door almost nervously as she looked at her mother sitting on the bed, heavily slouching over her lap.

'What do you want?' she asked groggily.

'You just waking up?'

'What's it to you?'

'Nothing… I was just asking.' She explained with a shrug. She was unaffected by the harsh tone because she had become so used to it.

'What do you want?' she asked again, as if she were tired of having to deal with her being in there with her, even though she was just standing there quietly. She shrugged again in response then after a momentary pause reached into her back pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes,

'I got you some smokes.' She handed them to her as though it didn't mean anything to her. Her mom took them from her almost cautiously as though there had to be some sort of catch… there always seemed to be when her boyfriend brought them to her. Faith had taken a small step forward to hand her the cigarettes and she didn't retreat back.

'What's the matter with you?' her mother asked glancing up at her for the first time since she had come into the room. The first half of her glance was actually soft – it was as though she realized for the first time how beautiful her daughter was. The second half of her glance turned immediately harder and more bitter as she realized that her daughter's beauty would eventually replace her own. Faith noticed the change in her gaze and glanced down at the floor to maintain her composure,

'Just kind of had a bad day, I guess. Not so five by five…'

'What do you want me to do about it?' she asked almost angrily. Even in her memory, Faith could hear how similar her mothers voice was to her own. The way she said certain phrases practically matched hers, such as 'do about it'.

'Nothing,' she answered quickly. She took the step back and was about to turn towards the door but stopped herself and turned back to her mother and asked, 'can I ask you a question?'

'What?' she asked impatiently.

'It's kind of random, but… yo, you know I don't usually ask, but…'

'Faith, what?'

'Do you love me?' she asked, spitting the words out as though they had been stuck in her throat for years and she had finally just been able to dislodge them.

'What do you expect me to say?' she asked, her anger quickly increasing.

'I just want to hear it once… just one time. I swear, if you say it I'll never ask you again… I swear," she stammered, her tone quickly becoming a plea.

'Faith, regular people-'

'Regular people say it!'

'Regular people don't get knocked up when they're fourteen!' she answered in a tone matching her daughters. The rage and anger built up inside of both of them could only be matched by the other.

'But you're my mother, you're supposed to-'

'I don't love your fucking scumbag father and I don't love you! How the hell do you expect me to? You think this is the life I wanted? You think this is where I want to be? I'm fucking stuck here and it's because of you! So no, I don't fucking love you, okay?'

'Ugh, fuck you. I don't care anyway,' she spat angrily.*

She blinked and the image of herself in the mirror cleared slightly. She wiped her eyes again not wanting to cry and especially not wanting to watch herself cry. She ran her unwounded hand through her hair but then suddenly with her other hand slammed it into the mirror, sending shattered splinters of glass into the sink and on the floor. She pulled her hand back and immediately chided herself for what she had done. She forced herself to take deep breaths then looked onto the floor at her clothes, wanting to work out a plan of getting dressed in her head before she actually tried to execute it.

She saw some of the pieces of glass on the floor and noticed a few dried drops of blood from earlier that night. She glanced back into the sink and looked at the shattered glass and the few large shards lying in the sink. She wondered how long it would take a Slayer to bleed to death…

The memory of walking into her mother's bedroom and seeing her lying in a pool of her own blood, dead and cold flashed through her eyes. Her previous thought was immediately forced out of her brain as though it had never even been there and she got dressed.

----------------

"I have the sketch…"

"Give it to me," Officer Stevenson demanded urgently as he put down his cup of coffee. He glanced at the sketch and immediately reached for the telephone, "Brian, it's Stevenson… yeah, you're still working on that case from Sunnydale, right? Well… you have another lead? Well then this is your lucky week. I think I have your girl up on another murder… I'll fax it over. Bye."

"Officer…"

"Can you fax this over to Brian's office for me?" he asked as he got his stuff together to leave.

"Yes, Sir, but, Sir…"

"What is it, Joey?"

"Granted I don't know the logistics of this suspect, but Sir, going on what was at the crime scene, it didn't look like a murder."

"There was a dead body with a knife through it's chest. What else does it look like?"

"Sir, it's just that the position and the fact that there wasn't any prints on the knife… it looks like a text book self-defense case to me… with all due respect, I think you're going about this whole thing the wrong way."

"If this is the girl I think it is, don't worry, I'll let you do night watch on her."

"What?" he asked confused at the playful grin on his superiors face.

"She's cute," he answered before walking out of the office.

-----(almost two weeks earlier)------

"Wait, can you stop there, I need to pick up some pictures," Kennedy asked.

"Sure," Willow answered with a smile, pulling the car into a parking spot.

"I'll be right back," she answered getting out of the car quickly. She walked into the store and up to the counter. The clerk handed her a pack of pictures and stood off to the side and opened them up. It was the pack of pictures with the pictures of Xander and Faith together. She wanted to see them before she got in the car so she would know whether or not she could show them to Willow. As she neared the end of the roll she began to walk towards the door while still looking down at the pictures. A few strides later she bumped into someone and dropped the pictures on the floor.

"Sorry," she immediately said knowing it had been her fault. She crouched down and started picking up the scattered pictures.

"It's okay, I wasn't looking either," he answered nicely. She looked up and smiled at the man who was already crouched down on the floor to help her pick up the pictures. The man was an off duty police officer who had been transferred from LA. He had begun working on the force in Los Angeles and after his fifth year he began to question his profession. LA began to be a crazy place to live… in more respects than any sane person would repeat. He was seeing things that weren't real and doubting his own integrity. He had been one of the officers personally put in charge on his shift of monitoring Faith's activities in the federal penitentiary. He had immediately been given a transfer when she escaped the maximum security prison on his watch. His superiors were more than a little doubtful that the girl had been able to get through the thick glass, through him and out a five story high window where she proceeded to run away after landing on the hood of a car. The officer picked up several pictures and wit

hout even wanting to be nosy his eyes fell on one of the pictures. He immediately disregarded his manners and looked at the picture behind it and saw another picture of Faith.

"Thanks," Kennedy said nervously taking the pictures out of his hand.

"Who is that?"

"Excuse me?" Kennedy asked quickly putting the pictures away.

"That woman, who is she?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Excuse me," Kennedy said walking around the stammering officer and out of the store and quickly back into the car. "Freak," she muttered under her breath as she walked out of the store.

"Did they have them?" Willow asked with a smile.

"Yeah," she answered. "Let's just get home, I'm hungry."

"Okay."

------------

Xander sat on the bed dressed and with his coat in his hand. He stared intensely at the door to the bathroom unsure of what exactly he even wanted to happen. He found himself both nervous and eager for her to come out. He was nervous because she might be furious that he was still there but he wanted her to come out hoping she would be in a different mood than before. His head wasn't just swimming it was drowning with his heart as the heavy anchor making him sink.

He had thought he had strange nights before. Strange enough, one of the nights he had made a mental note of being his strangest was the first time he had slept with her. He could only conclude that Faith made things complicated and often strange… He couldn't completely wrap his brain around what had happened in only about ten hours. He had driven to L.A. like a maniac to find her, hoping to just beg her to forgive him and take him back. Then he had spotted an obscure club in a town he had never been to and when he went in he immediately found her there… not to mention covered in other guys. Then he watched her walk out and he ran around to see the asshole try and seriously hurt her then he watched her kill him with a small push and side step. Then he just had instinctually grabbed her and taken her to what he thought would be somewhere safe. He took care of her hand then they ended up making love for hours – it had been incredible, but still strange. There were plenty of signs foreboding how she was

going to act afterwards that he had been ignorant of and that he noticed now thinking back on it. But no one could make love to him the way she could… no one. It had been enough of a distraction to cloud all of the other signs – ones that were now blatantly obvious to him now – and he was furious with himself.

-------------

"Hello?" Officer Carter asked as he picked up his office phone. Carter was the same officer who had bumped into Kennedy in the store and convinced he had a lead, he was disappointed that he hadn't been further notified since he filed his information over to his old boss, Officer Brian.

"Carter, hi, it's Brian."

"Officer Brian, it's good to hear from you."

"Yes, I received your notification a couple of days ago."

"Yes, Sir."

"I also received a phone call and a fax from Officer Stevens, another officer in Los Angeles, I'm sure you've heard of him. He's a good man."

"Yes, Sir, I believe I have. Steven's was the man working on the Kennedy case a few months back."

"Yes, yes. Well he faxed me over a file on his newest investigation. The prime suspect is our girl, the same one you said you saw a supposed acquaintance of over in your neck of the woods."

"What type of file?"

"Another murder. It fits her profile too. The sketch is extremely close and the witnesses have identified her by our photos on file. The murder goes along with her style too… not that she has a definitive tactic on all of her victims but it was via a stab wound… the victim was a male in his twenties and by her profile, the last time she was in LA that was her main target."

"Sounds like her, Sir."

"Carter, I want you and a team to go to the acquaintances home and ask questions and do a search. I'll fax over a court warrant, Judge Vent gave me one immediately. If the acquaintance seems suspect, bring her into the precinct under acts of criminal collusion."

"Yes, Sir."

-----------

She unwrapped her hand and ran it under the water for several minutes after getting partially dressed then washed her face and pulled her hair up with a clip that allowed only most of her hair and left several other strands hanging down into her face. As she slowly pulled her hair up, careful to not use her wounded hand any more than she had to, it occurred to her that she felt like she had been in there for hours. She thought it was impossible for that much time to have passed but she couldn't deny that she had zoned out for who knows how long thinking about her mother. She had issues… she knew it. This whole situation only underscored that fact and it seemed to be continuously being rubbed in her face.

She had been able to successfully convince herself that he hadn't meant anything while he was making love to her. It normally wouldn't have been that large a feat for her but with Xander everything was different. It felt so good! She had never been one to be too fastidious when it came to being pleased in bed – she had gained the skills she needed to sufficiently enjoy herself no matter what the circumstance and she had never received any complaints from the other – but even the way it felt to just be lying with him was incredible. She almost hated to admit what he could do to her; she had never been with, or for that matter, known, anyone who could just touch her arm or her face and have her get a feeling inside that can only be described as her wanting to spend the rest of her life with them.

All of those nights that she would sleep with him she would fall asleep resting her head on his chest and she couldn't envision herself ever falling asleep any other way ever again. She never wanted to wake up to anything else other than him with his arms around her. She never wanted to have to kiss anyone else or touch anyone else or let anyone else look at her. She wanted to just be his and only his… she couldn't picture herself any other way nor did she want to. But that had all changed. She hated that it was different now – but it was different, and one night with him again wasn't going to just change it back.

As much as she loved being his during that small period of her life she hated realizing afterwards how much he could hurt her. She had shied away from him in the beginning because she knew but she hadn't ever let herself do what she had done with him and there were few experiences in her life that had hurt her as much as that did. It wasn't just that he left her… that wasn't the whole story. Not to go back to the 'mom never loved me' part, but not only was he really her first love but he was also the first person she had completely and totally trusted and given herself to. She would've done anything for him…

The Mayor, her boss, was someone who she had really trusted and allowed herself to be loved by but he only had a piece of her. Up until that point he had been the first person she had given that much to – he became everything for her – he was the first and only father she had ever had and he loved her for what she was having a five by five time doing. Granted he was evil and so was she – she knew that now – but that didn't diminish their relationship. But, quite obviously, that relationship was different than what she had with Xander. Xander was her friend, her shoulder to cry on, her person to laugh with and have fun, the person she trusted to tell just about anything to on how she felt, the person she would do *anything* for, but on top of all of that, he was her lover.

She opened the bathroom door and walked into the bedroom, beginning to button up her shirt as she walked starting from the bottom and working her way upward. Her eyes were filled with tears and a few streamed down her face but she didn't even bother to try and stifle them – she missed the luxury of getting to be alone in an apartment and cry without anyone knowing or caring. She had deemed it a luxury because if she didn't have to worry about anyone else acknowledging it, most of the time she didn't have to acknowledge it herself either. She walked halfway into the bedroom before glancing up and looking towards the door, somewhat envisioning what Xander looked like as he left. As a kid she had always wondered what her father had looked like leaving… it was just one of those weird things kids thing about… The area seemed unchanged somehow and she moved her gaze over to the other side of the bedroom and saw him sitting there motionless.

She couldn't help but recognize how impressive he looked sitting there. He looked like the bad boy she had always wanted but he was the good boy she always needed. His hair was tossed about, obvious that he'd run his hand through it a few times while it was still wet with sweat, giving it a ruffled, spiked look. His collar was flipped up – knowing him not purposely, just a lack of concern as he probably dressed extremely quickly. And he held his leather jacket loosely in his lap as he sat on the edge of the bed. She shot him a harsh glare as she observed him, which couldn't have been more than a short moment, and he didn't budge. She quickly glanced at his hands which she expected to be fidgeting away at the corners of his jacket but to her surprise they rested motionless and calm.

She turned her attention away from him, quickly becoming aware of how much she wanted to still be on that bed with him still inside of her. With her back turned to him now she pulled money out of her back pocket and counted the crumpled bills. Her stash that had begun at fifty dollars when she headed out for LA was now down to about seven. She knew she used to be better at this… granted traveling and expenses for as long as she'd been here were far greater than forty three dollars she knew when she was younger she could've made this trip never even having to count as high as forty with the money in her pocket. She acknowledged the fact that she probably only saved that money from stealing but hey, she did what she needed to do to get by. She didn't like having to live this way.

Xander searched his mind desperately, looking for some solution to the situation he was in. It was hard to find one because each time he found an acceptable plan he was able to disprove it thinking of how she might react. But he knew he had to act quickly. Faith was always a hard one to get a reading on but right now he deemed the winner. She came out of the bathroom with tears running down her face, then she looked over at him with both admiring surprise and anger. It wasn't necessarily anger directed at him, it was more directed at the fact that she had to deal with the situation now rather than be able to walk away from it. But than as her glace stiffened she turned away from him as though she wanted to completely ignore him being there. He had honestly expected a little screaming. But Faith wasn't that black and white; it was both what he loved and hated about her. He loved it because it made her so intense and deep so that when you were able to grasp what it was she was actually feeling it was such a reward and enriched feeling. But he hated it because he couldn't always figure her out and it put him in positions like this where if he made the right move it fixed everything but if he made the wrong move it was completely destroyed.

He stood, feigning confidence as he approached her.

"Faith," he said softly, but without a noted falter in his tone. He walked up to her despite the fact that he got absolutely no acknowledgement. He touched her arm softly right over her tattoo, hoping the touch would be some sort of comfort for her. She practically jumped away from his touch and turned towards him sharply,

"Don't touch me!" she scolded.

"Okay," he answered, dropping his hand down by his side but not allowing his tone to reflect any intimidation or fear. She stared at him coldly – them being closely face to face – then seeing he wasn't going to break the gaze she turned and walked around him towards the door.

"Whoa, where are you going?" he asked quickly, once he realized her intended path. She didn't answer and he jumped between her and the door.

"So it's true, sex does make men stupid," she commented condescendingly as she was stopped short.

"Let's not talk about stupid ideas right now," he snapped back. "In case you've forgotten, LA's probably swarmed with police right now, looking for you, might I add."

"I doubt they're going to expect to see their suspect walking down the sidewalk…"

"Please, Faith," he pleaded, dropping the argumentative tone and showing real concern, "just let me go back and get the car and I'll take you wherever you're going." She ignored his offer and began to walk around him again. "Faith, please… I would never forgive myself if…" she tried again to get around him and he moved in front of her again. "Whether you want to believe it or not, Faith, I love you. I love you more than I'll ever be able to explain to you in words."

"Xander, stop it," she scolded.

"I mean it, Faith!" he explained strongly. "You can't fake this. I've had plenty of screw ups in my life and I never thought I'd be able to rank them but I at least know which one is on the top of the list." She motioned to leave again and he grabbed her arms in his hands, "I love you." She quickly pulled away from his grip and scolded again,

"Don't touch me!" The effect her had on her just standing there was enough, but the one he made when he touched her was one she knew she wouldn't be able to fight. Looking at him and knowing the way she felt she wanted him inside of her but having his touch her made the feeling so much more intense.

"Faith, you don't need to take me back… you don't even have to like me or talk to me again… but don't make it be because you're mad at me. Let it be because you found someone else who treats you better or because you don't want to be with anybody because you want to just be alone… don't make it be because you're angry. You're rage controls you enough already, don't let it be the deciding factor with this too."

"Xander…" she said for lack of anything else to say. She wanted so badly to be able to believe everything he was saying to her. Her insides felt like they were being burned to ashes and she didn't want to have to deal with this right now.

"Faith, I love you and I know I can't just show up and say that and have everything be perfect again. Faith, what we had was perfect… I'm willing to do anything I need to, anything you want me to do, to have you back again." She looked blankly down at the floor and he took her silence as a slight admission, "I'm not going to make you deal with all of this right now, okay? But stay here and I'm going to go get the car and then I'll take you to Angel or wherever you've been staying and you'll be safe." She remained silent and he took the opportunity to grab his jacket and head out of the door, "I'll be right back."

She watched him leave and she walked slowly over to the bed and sat down. There was too much in her head for her to think about so she stared blankly at the distant wall.

*She walked into her small apartment and she heard crying. It was her mother – she could distinguish that cry from anything. She walked quickly into the bedroom and saw her sitting against the bed weeping.

'Mom?'

'He left… he just left.'

'What?'

'He left me. I… I can't do this anymore… I can't deal with you and the money and everything…' she sobbed. Faith kneeled down next to her and took her in her arms,

"Mom, it's okay…' She hated hearing her mother cry but in a strange way she also liked it. It was the only time she could ever touch her or be close to her… it was her moment of weakness – a moment when she allowed anything and didn't care about the consequences.*

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Xander jumped in the car and quickly started it and pulled it onto the street. He quickly dialed Buffy's cell and she picked up.

"Xander, what's up? Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, Buffy, I was just calling to check in and make sure nothing was going on over there."

"Yeah, I'm actually just getting back to the house," she answered as she pulled into the garage. "Whoa," she said abruptly.

"What?"

"There are a bunch of cop cars," she answered in shock.

"What?" he asked nervously. There were plenty of cop cars around the streets where he was but never in a million years did he expect them to be there. Buffy got out of her car and ran into the house. There were six police officers standing there, two of which were approaching Kennedy quickly.

"What the hell is going on here?" she asked, holding the phone down at her side.

"Miss, you're under arrest for criminal collusion and-"

"What?" Kennedy asked.

"As far as the court is concerned you know the whereabouts of a wanted criminal and-"

"Hey," Buffy stepped in, "there's nothing she knows that no one else in this house wouldn't."

"I only have a warrant of arrest for this young lady," he answered, "but with a further warrant I can assure you we'll be back for the rest of you, whom you claim to know just as much. Jacobs, you come with me, the rest of you search the place." Buffy quickly walked into the other room,

"Xander, what the hell is going on?" she asked furiously. "She left again and here I am cleaning up her fucking mess!"

"Buffy, I'll call you back," he stated as he hung up.

"Fuck!"

He pulled the car into the parking lot of the motel and slammed it to a halt before running towards room nine. He quickly unlocked the door and his stomach sunk as he looked around the room and knew there was no denying that she had split.