As I gently kick the warm duvet off me, I can feel the hot, stray slit of sunlight that's managed to filter through the gap between the dark drapes covering my windows. Groaning tiredly from the previous night, I can feel the stiff ache in my thighs and back after that damn Crucio curse Voldemort hit me with.
Stretching the kinks out of my neck, I find it hard to believe how much time Faith and I had actually spent in those tight cages. By the time we had arrived back, it was past lunchtime. A slight smirk lifts the edges of my lips as I imagine how hungry Faith had been by the time she got stitched up. And I'm not just talking for food.
After arriving back, I had proceeded to collapse in a heap on my bed, promptly falling asleep until this morning. Roughly tucking in the edges of my crumpled bed sheet, I wonder which room Faith's in. Wincing slightly after stretching my quads, I think I should try to squeeze in a meditation session with her before reporting to Dumbledore.
Stepping into the bathroom, I strip quickly out of my grimy clothes from yesterday, grimacing as I throw them into a pile on the floor. Small, dark patches of blood are smeared across my brown singlet, most likely from Faith's cuts. And even from the shower, I can see the crusty residue of dried mud and mucky water along the edge of my faded jeans. Turning away, I let out soft sigh of bliss as steaming water hits me, clouding up the glass screen.
As I lather up the sweet, honey-scented shampoo in my hands, my thoughts wander to our encounter with the two Big Bads we'll definitely be facing again. Voldemort was relatively easy to deal with in the dark. Being a mortal, I could feel the weakness of his flesh under my attacks, his only advantage being throwing spells with a pointy wooden stick, which I can easily match with Mr. Pointy. His disappearing act is a problem, and will probably frustrate Faith and I, should we have to fight him again. So, I'll file that away under Anger Management.
Running conditioner through my limp hair, I scowl slightly as some annoying strands come away, tangling themselves in my fingers. As I push my hands under the hot stream of water, my thoughts fade back to the First.
He...or It...plays on our weaknesses. I knew that from Sunnydale. I also knew that It would act as Spike when we met, which is why it's so damn frustrating that I was still shocked when It revealed itself. But it had seemed so real...
What's wrong, love?
Not gonna give us a kiss?
I bite back a sob as the memories roar past. There were so many things I wanted to tell him. So many words, so many promises to make. And all in the span of those few seconds as I looked into his eyes. But was it all in the moment? After all, how many times had I told him it was nothing? That his love for me wasn't real? And that I could never love him back the way he wanted me to.
I watch as the soft bubbles of foam glide down my arms and chest, down my legs until they swirled into the drain below. The slightly brown tinted water snaps me back, and I frown as I try to scrub the dirt off me. Pouring more off my favourite vanilla body wash into my hand, I shut my eyes, willing the torrent of memories and sad thoughts to pass. Once I'm done, I wrap a soft green towel around me, placing another one around my head and piling my hair on top. My hair's gonna be one hell of a tangle later.
Rummaging through the clothes that I brought, I pick out a cream coloured skirt and a lace white top. I remember having to steal it back from Dawn after she borrowed it for a year. Grinning, I think of all the possible 'girly' comments Faith can make about me. But today, I don't feel like doing anything but relaxing. I sit on the edge of the bed and pull off the soaked towel around my head. Lightly running a comb through it, I think about all the things I can do today.
Eat something.
Meditate, stretch, anything to get rid of the stupid aches.
Talk to Dumbledore.
Eat something.
Terrorise the kids.
Do some weapons training.
Eat something.
I give a little chuckle at how many times I fitted in eating. After slipping on a pair of sandals, I'm just about to step out when I spot my weapons bag peeking out of the bottom of my bed.
I met Kreacher, the house elf the other day, and might I say Gremlins? Except not as horrible as the really bad ones, and definitely not as cute as the good one. But his attitude deserves one Hell of a kick. Just the chance of meeting him again makes me consider taking a stake with me. But realising I have no where to put a weapon, let alone hide one, makes me turn around and walk out into the corridor.
Making my way into the kitchen, I can hear Faith's loud laughter and roll my eyes with a grin. Stepping in, I see her partly laughing with Sirius, partly wolfing down a messy plate of toast, eggs and bacon. Glancing around, I spot Mrs. Weasley watching the enchanted dishes washing, a violet-haired Tonks next to her trying to do something with her wand.
"Mornin' B!" Faith calls, a bright smile on her face.
I can guess that it's been a while since Faith's smiled with such ease, so I grin back in response as I seat myself at the table, "Morning everyone."
Mrs. Weasley hands me a big plate full of food with a cheery greeting, that it's hard for me to tell her I'm not a big breakfast person. So I just start to nibble instead.
"You tryin' out for Miss Congeniality or something?" Faith asks, eyeing my top, "Thank God I didn't have to come to you for something to wear."
Rolling my eyes, I ask, noticing her change in clothes, "Not that I'd share with you. Where'd you get your clothes from anyway? I don't really see you having a suitcase in case of emergencies."
She responds, her mouth full of toast, "Apparently Dumbledore sent a letter to Amy, one of the neater Potentials living in the house, to shove some clothes and weapons in a trunk. And someone picked it up this morning."
She's wearing a plain, red sleeveless top with jeans, showing off the tattoo on her arm. I notice that the cut on her left arm has completely healed, with only a mean scar that will take a few more days to fade. Turning slightly to look at Sirius, it doesn't take a Xander-moment to realise that he's infatuated with her. The chair he's sitting on is at an angle facing her, and a small, goofy smile on his face makes him look a bit funny.
"So, where'd you bunk last night?" I ask Faith coyly, noticing Sirius redden slightly as I place a bit of egg into my mouth.
Faith smirks as she replies, "Oh, Sirius was kind enough to share his bedroom 'cause of me being injured and all."
A loud crash near the sink makes me whip my head around, to find Tonks blushing and muttering apologies, her robes covered with soapsuds. Mrs. Weasley only shakes her head in slight irritation at the pieces of broken china she floats out of the soapy sink.
"Oh, really," I comment with fake nonchalance, "Well, Miss Injured, feel up for some solid Tai Chi to rub those kinks out?"
"Well, I can think of a few other things that'll rub the kinks out..." she whispers seductively, laughing as Sirius clears his throat uncomfortably. I join in the laughter as he continues to flush.
"I-I'll leave you two to it, then," he stammers, leaving the kitchen in a rush.
The two of us crack with laughter at the sight of his retreating back before quieting down a bit at Mrs. Weasley's motherly, reprimanding look. Continuing to eat, it's a while before Faith speaks again.
"So, you've been here since..."
"A couple of days after Dawn left," I say quietly.
"I heard about that. Sorry Buff, but your Dad's a real bastard for taking her like that," she says venomously.
"Same thoughts here," I say, just moving the food around my plate as it grows cold, "but I couldn't do anything. Not without landing myself in jail for murder or something."
The effect of my comment doesn't hit me until I see a shadow flit across Faith's eyes. Her face remains stony, though, and I don't say anything more.
"You wanna do the Chinese?" she asks after a while, picking up her plate.
I nod and follow her, heading over to the sink and letting the bewitched soap and sponge do the washing. I lead her to the room at the back of the kitchen, and it's different as I step in for the second time. Sunlight washes through the whole room from the wide windows near the ceiling.
"Suh-weet," I hear Faith whistle behind me, checking out all the equipment and weapons.
"I know," I say, standing on one of the mats, "Dumbledore's really good like that.... among other things."
"Yeah," she snorts, standing next to me and bouncing slightly on her toes, "like being able to hex the crap out of 'ya, freaky mind reading and planning to save the world."
Hey, wow.
"Talk about cramming complex issues into a nutshell."
"Just one of my many brilliant talents," Faith gushes sarcastically.
"Let's start before I have to stake you when your head swells to demonic levels," I say, rolling my eyes and placing my feet together, "do you remember the set we did with Wes?"
"How could I forget?" she says, imitating my stance, "It was the only thing I learnt off him."
Closing my eyes, I feel the warmth of the sun on my skin and take a deep, relaxing breath, clearing my head of thought. Almost immediately, I can feel some of the strain on my lower back start to ebb away. Extending my senses, I push my hands forward slowly, knowing that Faith and I are moving exactly in time together. I start to swing my arms around to the right, leaning in on my right leg and stretching the taut muscles.
After a few repetitions, I start to move my arms in wide arcs, remembering the time when Angel and I had done Tai Chi after his return from Hell. His cool body pressed flush against mine, encircling my arms with his and moving, as if we were part of a graceful dance. Feeling no breath coming from him, while my heart was pumping rapidly, my breath quickening at our closeness. Bending down achingly slow, my arms perform a broad sweep, brushing my toes before returning up, my legs moving forward.
The quiet creak of the mat lets me know that we are still in time. Wesley had taught us this combination in one of our sessions. To centre the body, the mind, and the soul. To calm the senses. To relieve tension. I stretch out my arms once again, bending my knees this time, and steadily turning my body, feeling the strength in my knees return. Rising, my hands form shapes, guiding the direction of my arms while the rest of my body follows.
When we stop, and I finally open my eyes, we're back in the position we started in, and I can see a blissfully calm expression on Faith. The dull ache in my muscles has gone, and I'm actually surprised at how quickly I recovered from the Crucio this time.
"God, that was good," Faith sighs contentedly, flopping down on the mat.
Following suit, I push my legs out into a split, saying, "You feel up to that girl chat I promised?"
Shrugging, she replies, "Why not?"
Neither of us starts, and silence falls quickly.
"So, what happened with Robin Wood? And don't give me the abridged version," I say, looking at her.
"I'm not really sure," she replies, staring back at me with an emotion that I've never seen before: heartache, "One week it was going great, we couldn't have been happier. And then we had our first fight, over something completely stupid."
"They're usually the first ones," I say, nodding my head, "Make you say so many things you regret."
"No shit," Faith says, looking down and examining her clear polished nails. I wonder vaguely if she ever got to do her nails in jail.
"What was it like? In jail, I mean," I ask, watching her pick at her nails.
"Hell," she responds simply, "I couldn't wait for my parole. Everyone's out to get ya, and even defending yourself lands you back where you started. Thank God I busted out with Wesley."
What the-?
"You broke out?" I ask, my mouth dropping slightly, "You're wanted?"
"Nothin' new, B," she shrugs, looking back up at me, before smirking slyly, "I'm always wanted."
I shake my head and move my legs out in front of me. I know it's no use asking her why she didn't tell me.
"So, what was really going on between you and Spike? I mean, I was suffocating on the sexual tension everyday."
Sighing, I say, "I'm not really sure myself. I mean, he hung around with us for a while, 'specially after the little Freaky Friday we pulled."
At that, Faith dips her head a little lower, guilt written in her eyes. I don't comment, the wounds are still there, despite all the time she's spent in prison. I know it would ease her pain to hear that I've forgiven her, but...the pain still lingers. Especially about Riley.
"To say I overreacted when he said he loved me is insulting all understatements," I laugh with a tang of bittersweet lodged on my tongue, "I hated him for it, and even worse, I hated myself for letting him get to me."
"Was it that bad?" Faith asks with a raised eyebrow, flicking a wavy strand of hair off her face, "I wouldn't exactly shove Spike in the un-shaggable undead column."
"God, no, the sex was amazing," I reply, blushing a bit, "But he was the enemy, he had no soul, and couldn't be anything but beneath me."
"Yeah, literally," Faith snorts, and I glare. I let the moment linger, knowing exactly what was pressing against the back of my mind.
"It wasn't until later that I realised how much he'd meant to me, watching my back, being part of the gang...but when I came back," I say softly, brutally ripping open old wounds that haven't quite healed, "he knew. He knew where I'd been, and he knew I'd come back wrong. And...it hurt."
I can feel the sting of tears in my eyes, and before I can stop it, a soft gasp of misery wrenches out of my throat. Stop, stop, stop. Don't, he's gone, it's over...
Don't you get it?
Don't you see?
You came back wrong.
A harsh laugh rips out after I angrily swipe the tears away, "And then I got addicted. Poor little Buffy, like a druggie whore to a vampire. I was no different to Riley."
"Buff-"Faith makes to interrupt, a stunned look on her face, before I whisper painfully.
"Isn't it odd what Slayers are addicted to? I couldn't get off the temptation of death, and you couldn't give up..."
What couldn't Faith give up? She killed a man, turned her back on us and betrayed us, but she paid for it. Paid for it with a coma, went to jail, kicked the habit of flirting with vengeance. The realisation dawns on me as I turn dazed eyes towards her.
"Does this make me the bad slayer now?" I whisper, repeating her words.
"No, Buffy," she says firmly, crawling over to me, "You died. Twice. You've been to Goddamn Heaven and back. I mean, they even told you death was your gift. How can you not jump the line?"
My mind seems to be a blank space. Floating in it are her words, but everything's hazy. I shake my head to clear the mess that's cluttering it. Picking at old scabs don't bring anything but pain.
"And I thought I was gonna be the counsellor today," I laugh shakily, "I'm alright. I just had...I'm alright."
Faith nods, retreating back and giving me my personal space.
"You wanna do a bit of meditation?" I ask quietly, crossing my legs.
She doesn't respond, but moves towards me and holds my hands. Straightening my back, I take a deep breath, and begin to murmur soft words that Willow taught me.
"Goddess Hygeia, I beseech thee. Heal our mind, our body and our spirits. Bless us with your healing spirit."
As I keep repeating the words like a mantra, a cool swirl of energy seems to bubble delicately in the pit of my stomach, branching out into my body with calm tendrils of power. A tingling sensation greets the tips of my fingers and toes, and soon, I feel my whole body quivering faintly with clean, fresh energy. My eyes snap open as I feel my body buzzing with the intense magic. Faith has the same awe-filled expression on her face.
"We should do that more often," she exclaims with an enthusiastic grin.
It's then that I notice that the door's slightly ajar. Narrowing my gaze, I smirk as I can see the shapes of heads peeking around the door. I motion Faith's attention to the door, and her lips curve into a plotting grin. She jogs silently to the door and in one swift motion, pulls the door open, sending six figures tumbling to the ground with yelps.
"Well, well, look what I found, B," Faith drawls with a highly amused grin, leaning casually against the door, "Peter Pan and the Lost Boys!"
Snickering, I watch as the six kids awkwardly to their feet. For the first time, I realise that the two other Weasley brothers are twins. From here, I can't seem to pick a difference between them.
"Twiddledee and Twiddledum, front and centre!" I bark, enjoying seeing the twins' faces flush and they hesitantly step forward, but gaining courage as I smile at them.
"What're your names?"
"Fred Weasley, Miss," the one on my left pipes up.
"And I'm George Weasley, pleased to meet you," the one on my right says, with a charming grin.
"I'm Buffy the Vampire Slayer," I say before nodding towards Faith, "and that's Faith the Vampire Slayer."
The twins aren't the only ones with confused expressions on their faces. Hermione seems to be having a fit, rapidly flicking her head from Faith to me with a bewildered look on her face. Having two Vampire Slayers in the one room must be defying all laws of nature...or books, if she's anything like high school Willow.
"So that's who you picked up yesterday," Harry says, nodding with understanding, "Everyone was wondering where you'd gone. Sirius wouldn't tell us anything."
I shrug, "Secrecy's up to Dumbledore. But seeing as you guys are so intent on spying on everyone...what exactly were you doing at the door, anyway?"
Blushes cover all of their faces, except the two smiling twins in front of me.
"You two wanna answer on their behalf?" Faith asks as she shuts the door and strolls towards me.
"We just wanted to watch a good duel, that's all," Fred protests.
"Yeah," George agrees, nodding fervently, "can you show us something wicked?"
I spare a glance at Faith, whose eyes have taken on a fiendish gleam. I notice that the scar on her arm has completely faded, probably boosted by the little magical meditation before.
"How 'bout it, B?" Faith asks, heading towards the wall and throwing me a sword, "you feel up for a little one-on-one?"
"You sure you can take me?" I ask with a smirk, catching the glimmering sword deftly and giving a practice swing, that she meets instantly, returning the sneaky smile.
"Five by five, girl."
Soon I find myself locked in a battle with my sister Slayer, our swords humming through the air, slicing and clashing with each other. It's a beautiful noise that I relish, the battle fever striking me hard. Meeting her attacks and keeping my defense, we continue to circle each other, lashing out with intensity. Suddenly she whirls, and I can see that she's trying to corner me, so I launch myself onto one of the beams, creating a little height and distance.
"Need the advantage?" she laughs teasingly, continuing to strike her blade with mine.
"S'not my fault I seem to be vertically challenged," I grumble, twirling back off the beam and swinging my blade in a strong arc to meet hers, making her sword quiver in her grasp just slightly. Immediately, I take the advantage and deliver a rapid series of blows until she's kept on defense, where I muster the energy in my arms and finally knock the blade out of her hold. My thin-bladed sword ends the fierce arc at her abdomen, pointing to where I had stabbed her with a dagger, years before.
You did it.
You killed me.
I see the startled expression in her eyes at where my blade's pointing, and I don't seem to register the animated cheers from our audience. Dropping the blade with a clatter, my fingers instantly flit to the side of my temple. It's then that I realise how much turning my back on Faith when she most needed my help affected her. She isn't the only one that needs forgiveness.
"Guys, could you...um, could you just leave for a sec?" I ask, looking at Faith, who is busying herself with picking up our blades.
I see the curious glances the kids cast as they wait just outside the door, leaving it slightly ajar still, I notice wryly.
I walk to Faith, who is hanging up the swords on the wall. What do I say?
"Faith – "
"It's all in the past," she interrupts quickly, turning to face me, "let's just leave it there."
I shake my head, "No, because I know you want this as much as I do. We've left too many things between us, and I just want you to know that..."
Say it. Just say it.
"I-I forgive you."
She sucks a sudden breath in.
"Oh God..."
"I mean, not just for our little switch, but for everything before that as well. Graduation, Angel, everything. I'm not exactly Saint Buffy, and I know how much three words can mean."
Silence, and then she lifts tear-filled eyes to me.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for someone to say that."
I pull her into a tight hug as she mutters into my ear, "I never blamed you for stabbing me. Hell, if my boyfriend's life was hanging by a loose thread, and I was the cause, I'd have eviscerated me too."
Letting go, I give a chuckle as I turn towards the door, yelling, "Don't you guys have anything better to do?"
The two of us snicker as we hear six pairs of feet rush away from the door.