Title: Just Desserts (6/?)

Author: nailbunny617

Pairing: B/F eventually…

Rating: PG-13 for now

Disclaimers: No, I don't own any of these characters, I'm just taking them for a joyride and mean no harm. Oh and if girlsmut is illegal where you live, move! If it's not your cup of tea, then I suggest stopping reading right now.

Author's Notes: Eh, this is really just me being me.

I was sitting in the passenger's seat, somewhat curled in on myself and staring out the window. My heart felt like it was racing a train and my stomach was all tingly.

I was fucking nervous.

The entire LA gang had said goodbye and seen us off that morning, with Cordy pushing a bottle of grape juice into my hand. I didn't know what I had ever done to deserve such a good friend. A second chance, even if it wasn't with the person I really wanted. Her phone number was securely lodged in my pocket, and I absentmindedly patted it every few minutes.

Willow, showing her first strains of common sense, left me pretty much alone for awhile. She popped in a cd and, singing quietly along, picked her way through the nightmare that is a California freeway.

I didn't have a driver's license and I wasn't sure that, even if I'd had one, that I'd be allowed to drive. I wondered whose car this was, because I didn't remember any of them possessing one before my untimely incarceration.

Untimely incarceration. Ha.

With my knee bouncing up and down, I'd say Red knew I was…anxious. She kept her eyes on the road, calmly driving. I wanted to know how the hell she could do that. Wasn't she scared of seeing the two women who stole her heart? I was a fucking basket case and I only had one tiny little slayer to thank for that.

So I caved, eventually, and asked, "Aren't you nervous?"

"Well, " she started, with her nose scrunched up a little and that vague look of deep thought. "I…I don't think so. I mean, maybe I should be?"

"What the hell kind of answer was that?"

She flicked her eyes over at me and I just stared back at her. No, this silent communication shit never really worked with me. You gotta spell that shit out.

"Well, I feel calmer than I have in years. Since I met Buffy, actually," she ended the sentence with a little laughter, like she realized how obvious that was already. "It's just like I found clarity. Like I finally get it."

I just nodded thoughtfully. It did make sense, after all. So I let it drop, figuring she was dealing with aplomb. I silently wondered if she'd be willing to share some of her confidence with me.

I don't think anyone would ever describe me as handling anything with aplomb. Except maybe slaying, but that was a duh.

"I want to apologize for being such a poopyhead to you." She said it while showing that newfound confidence and poise. Shit, Red seemed to have grown up in all of a day. I wished I could ask for some pointers on that.

Wait, she just said she's sorry? To me? I gaped at her, although my mouth wasn't hanging open…okay, well, it was parted slightly. The words I'd never, ever heard in my life from someone like Willow. Someone I wanted to be friends with.

There are some people who are just good souls. That no matter what you do to them, they hang on to a shred of their innocence and love of life. No matter what, there will always be a bigger part of them that isn't jaded by experience. Willow was one of those people, and I guess I wanted a little bit of that to rub off on me. I wanted to feel wonder at the simplest of things. I wanted to know what it was like to laugh and smile every day.

And this person, this clean soul, wanted to apologize to me? All those words she'd said, the anger and rage directed at me for so long, none of it mattered to me in that instant. Yea, she had hurt me deeply, but I wasn't about to say I didn't deserve it.

Damn.

"I…uh…okay?" I finished weakly. I had no clue what to say. I could see that she was the kind of person who didn't want any blemishes on her conscience. No matter how much the asshole had deserved it, she was gonna regret it.

I wanted a heart like hers.

She just looked at me with understanding, like she knew exactly what I was thinking – which she probably did – and smiled at me. Nodding at my grape juice, she said, "You haven't touch that yet. Aren't you gonna drink it?"

Maybe Cordelia had had some words with Red, because I think she knew what it was all about. The bike, the grape juice, everything. And suddenly, I felt guilty for sharing my sordid, pain-filled life with her. Forcing the kind of knowledge on her that she should never have possessed.

Suddenly I understood why Buffy insisted on playing the martyr so often. How could you not with friends like Willow around?

That thought was immediately followed by a realization that left me completely floored, much more so than Red's apology. Buffy was at least a little bit in love with Willow. Glancing at her from the corner of my eye, I had to admit that there was no way the hacker's feelings were completely one-sided. But, knowing some of the way B's mind worked, I understood that the feelings could never be really returned. She didn't want to drag the redhead into the life of a slayer any more than she already had.

Gotta love B: the self-sacrifice existing for all those years hand-in-hand with the selfishness. Having tasted a friendship like Willow's, she couldn't let it go. A little bit of light in a life of darkness.

Another piece of Buffy clicked into place for me, and I fell a little bit more in love with her. But how could I expect Buffy to share in my darkness?

Biting my cheek, I stared out my window and let the tears fall unchecked, trying not to sob out loud.

But I couldn't hide my sudden emotional turn for long. "Hey, this isn't supposed to be a sadness moment."

I looked her in the eyes and knew I could never tell her. If B never could, I wasn't gonna do it either. So I cracked a half-grin at her and replied, "I was just thinking you stole my line."

She just smiled at me and, evidently satisfied with my explanation, looked back out the windshield.

I kept looking at her, and finally said, "I am, you know. Sorry, that is."

Red kept smiling and said to the windshield, "I know. I've always known."

Damn. What could I say to that? So I returned to perusing the occupants of different cars, watching amusedly all the things people do when they think no one's watching. There was the obligatory guy picking his nose – isn't there always one of those – and the couple obviously arguing. I wondered what the big crisis was, maybe he wanted to go out to dinner and she didn't. My cynicism surprised even me.

I found myself needing to speak, needing to be understood. Maybe even helped, so I asked the only question that had ever truly mattered. "So, uh, do you think B'll give me a second chance?"

I couldn't look at her. I couldn't bear to see the laughter, the derision, or whatever other awful emotion was marching its way across her face. I glared at my cuticles as if they were the sole cause for my current situation.

"She has to." There was no hesitation in her voice, no uncertainty. Just a simple truth. I wanted to be in her world, where there was black and white and nothing in between. Everything had its place and nothing was so terribly bleak and gray. In that moment, I envied her.

I scrunched up my forehead, my throat feeling tight and my nose tingling. I fucking hate crying. For not being a person to let myself indulge in these sorts of emotions in front of other people, I'd sure let a hell of a lot of people see me cry those past few days.

"I wish I could be so sure, Red," I mumbled shakily a minute later, having fought down the urge to cry. I felt hollow, despondent. Dry.

"It won't be easy, Faith. And, I don't think it should be." I sharply looked at her. Ouch. There went my throat again, closing itself off. Who told it to do that? She continued, knowing my reaction from the way my hands pushed at my jeans, "If it were easy, we wouldn't need it so badly."

Fucking hell. I sniffled, attacking the knees of my pants some more, not willing to cry anymore.

"You scarred us all, you know. Left your mark whether we wanted you to or not." She finally noticed my futile attempt at holding in my emotions and – her voice not really softening – said, "If you think this is hard, wait till you talk to Buffy."

I sobbed loudly, only once, and held everything else in with the force of my hands. Pressing them to my mouth, the rest of my body shuddered. In an amusing display of intelligence, she pushed a little plastic travel pack of tissues at me with one finger.

"I…I think I still want you to hurt." This was said slowly, with her forehead scrunched up, pulling her hairline down slightly.

Looking out the window, I just nodded once and jerkily bit out, "Fair enough."

We drove on for a while, neither of us speaking. I questioned my sanity, I mean if a harmless little hacker could make me sob like a teeny girl…well thinking about the penance Buffy would probably make me pay simply was unbearable.

Red was tapping her fingers on the steering wheel and kind of dancing in her seat. But what made me explode into laughter was that whenever the song got to an unintelligible lyric, she'd scrunch up her nose and make a noise similar to what the singer was belting out. In other words, it was terribly adorable.

She looked over at me, smiling sheepishly and blushing pink. Turning back to the road, she mumbled, "Meanie," at me. Of course, that only served to make me laugh even harder.

All too soon, we were getting off the freeway and merging into Sunnydale traffic. I could barely breathe. Instead of shutting my eyes and closing out reality like I wanted to, my gaze was inexorably drawn to the streets I remembered so vividly. Shaky hands pushed the hair behind my ears and scrubbed my face.

When we turned into the parking lot on campus, I audibly gulped and shivered. I think Willow was torn between laughing at me and feeling sorry for me. I didn't want to find out which was going to win, so I pushed open the door.

I followed almost slightly behind Red, dragging my feet dramatically the closer we got to Stevenson.

When Willow unlocked and pushed open the door, I almost fainted. Shrinking behind the redhead, I waved feebly and said, "Hiya, B."