Title: Just Desserts (10/?)

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 you stop reading right now.

Author's Notes: This is cathartic. ;)

I was sitting very chastely on Willow's bed while she tried to do some homework. Very quickly, I was beginning to realize that I needed to get a job, a place to live, something, anything to alleviate this endless boredom. I was never the type to easily sit around somewhere.

I fiddled with the occult book Red had given me, promising that it contained some naughty woodcarvings in it. It was a little weird that she could tell what I was thinking before I formed the words. Most of the stories of the various exploits of demons were, quite frankly, fascinating and impressive.

People thought that I'd dropped out of school because I wasn't good at it. From the rough way I speak, the comics I read, and the generally carefree attitude – well, people often assume that I'm the type who is only blessed by street smarts. That wasn't really true. I dropped out of school because of Kakistos. I could never admit the weakness he had caused in me. I'd let myself get attached to my first watcher. I'd loved her like she was my own mother - even though deep down it felt like a betrayal to my dead mom.

But she got killed. I got her killed because I was too weak and too young to know any better. So I fell back onto the one thing that had kept me alive and kicking through the tougher foster and group homes. I pretended like I didn't really care. I pretended that I was strong and hard-headed and independent. And I was, to a certain degree. But I was also a terrified little girl who didn't know how to ask for help. Who didn't know how to accept any offers of it either.

I'd lived so long behind the hardass mask that it was difficult to remember who I was exactly. If there was any difference. In jail, the mask was a necessity. Not because I thought it was, but because if I hadn't kept it plastered on every minute of every day, somebody would've figured me out. Somebody would've caused me unimaginable pain for no better reason than it was something to do. Destroying me would have passed the time.

But I'd managed to keep it on the whole time. Except for when I was in my bed late at night, staring at the ceiling and thinking. Just thinking. After a while, I let it slip a little. Just long enough to get my GED. It's what both mother figures in my life would have wanted from me and it was what I wanted from me.

I'd toyed with a dream of going to college and studying mythology. Ancient history maybe. That was a dream I only allowed myself when the nights got the darkest, when I could hear the call of the evil, when the walls seemed to close in on me. It was a dream I'd never share because I couldn't handle the laughter that would ensue. The best dreams are funny that way, they need to be hoarded, protected, nurtured in the silence of midnight.

So I sat on Willow's bed wordlessly, staring at the book and willing myself to not look at Buffy's side of the room. To not bounce on B's bed and smell her pillows, breathing in her scent and holding it deep down inside. I couldn't go through her things, imagining how she'd look in every one of them.

In spite of the rough rejection she'd offered, my heart couldn't conceive of letting her go. I decided then that a part of myself would always be watching for her, seeing her constantly. In a stranger's laugh. In hair the color of the sun. In the fight. In the victory.

Red was adament that I couldn't leave Sunnydale. She was holding out hope that Buffy would come to her senses, that she'd accept my olive branch and we'd all be one happy family. I couldn't tell Willow that I didn't think that could ever happen.

Because if it did, B'd have to admit exactly how much she cared about me. The rage I felt in her eyes, in her voice, in her body right before I turned myself in - it all translated into something I couldn't bear to hope for. That was a dream I couldn't let myself think about.

I went through the volumes of ancient lore at lightning speed. Red was watching me, quietly observing. She didn't say anything about it and I didn't give her the chance. Reading about all the monsters I might someday have to fight - it wasn't ever actually about that for me. There was something comforting in the history that was behind those words. Something anchoring. Something so deeply rooted that it would never change, leaving you standing there holding your coat while everything fades away. I rarely let myself indulge like this, because it always seemed so feeble to just sit and read and think.

I had always been terrified of being weak. Of not being able to fight back when the tide inevitably turned against me.

There was a loud, exuberant knock on the door. Maybe I hadn't attached the idea of youthful excitement to the gesture until after everything had gone down, until it was past tense and I knew who'd been knocking. Red and I shrugged at each other, knowing instinctively that Tara would never knock on a door that way.

I sat with the book resting on my extended legs, unwilling to veil my curiosity. The door opened to reveal Dawn in the midst her normal mile-a-minute mode of speaking.

"Hi Willow! You remember our algebra study date, don't you? We're dividing quadratic equations and Janice says it's easy but I don't think that I'll ever understand it but you always have a way of making it so easy and I was hoping that you'd still help me out because we all know that, ha!, Buffy couldn't understand it when she had to do it and Mom was busy at the gallery and this is due tomorrow so I couldn't wait..." And she trailed off, having finally noticed me. I was busy breathing deeply, unconsciously trying to suck in enough air for Dawn too.

Train of thought completely derailed, she just stared at me. Not knowing what else to do, I calmly looked back at her. Secretly, I'd hoped to somehow see the squirt because I knew there was no way that B'd let me around her little sis after everything that went down. I'd always had a soft spot for the annoying brat. We'd do stupid stuff together, reminding me bitter sweetly of the childhood I'd never had. It didn't matter that I myself was still a child at the time - I'd never been innocent. I'd never been naive. I'd never known a family. I'd never laughed out of pure joy. But when I was around Dawn, it was like it didn't matter, my history didn't matter. I could laugh with her and gossip about boys and gripe about how unfair curfews were. Dawn didn't treat me like an outsider and I didn't treat her like a child.

Lost in thought, I didn't realize what was happening until her fist was bouncing off my nose. Shit, that girl could hit. I wondered if she was a potential slayer.

"I thought they'd locked you away for good." Her voice was shaky with emotion. I wiped at the blood slowly leaking from my nose with the back of my hand.

"They let me out for good behavior, Dawn." I calmly told her. I didn't know what else to do. In a way, her reaction to my presence hurt even more than Buffy's.

"Are you going to hurt everyone like you did before?" She sounded shrill, like she usually did when something seemed unfair or especially hurtful.

I accepted the tissues Red offered me, wiping the blood off my hand and from under my nose. Slayer or not, if you're knocked good in the nose it's gonna bleed. Dawn was holding her hand like it hurt pretty bad, which it had to. My head's pretty hard and she's not used to clocking people. Willow silently watched, knowing that this was something I was gonna have to fix on my own. She didn't leave, though, and I was immensely grateful for that. I wondered if it was for my sake or Buffy's – if something happened, she'd report back to the big sis.

I shooked my head. "No, Dawn, but that is why I'm here now." Her eyes accused me and tears leaked out of her eyes. I don't think she knew she was crying. "I want to make things right. I want to say I'm sorry."

Her jaw clenched and her hands curled into angry fists at her sides. "I hate you. You hurt everyone I love and you didn't even seem to care. You hurt me. Didn't our friendship mean anything to you?" Her voice cracked and she paused to gather herself to continue. "Buffy cried herself to sleep for weeks after you guys fought and she stabbed you. And we all thought, okay, now Faith's in a coma and maybe things will be okay and we'll deal with it when she wakes up. But then you woke up and switched bodies with her and she ended up at home almost every night crying. She doesn't think I know that. You messed up things between her and Riley. And now you're back and no one even told me. I HATE you, why can't you just die?"

She stomped out, slamming the door dramatically in her wake. I swallowed hard, just looking forlornly at the spot where she'd been standing with the blood quietly dripping onto the tissue.

Willow watched me with trepidation. I don't think either of us could have handled me crying again. I hardened my face and I steeled myself for the words that I'd hoped to avoid saying.

"I'm going back to LA." Willow opened her mouth to argue with me, and I cut her off. "No, can't you see? It's too little too late now. This is just making a bad situation worse. I'm fucking outta here."

I carefully set the book down, an action that I'm sure wasn't lost on the silent green eyes watching me, and grabbed my little duffel – mostly filled with Cordy's hand-me-downs. When I opened the door, I paused and looked back at Red. "Thank you, Willow."

And then I was gone.

I sat in the shitty little waiting room at the bus terminal, unwilling to go through the pretense of reading one of the ages-old magazines sitting around. Nothing seemed to matter anymore. It had all gone so badly so quickly that I didn't know how to handle it.

Maybe Willow and Tara really wanted me to stay in Sunnyhell, maybe not. I imagined that after a couple days, they'd just file it away under the we-really-tried-aren't-we-good-people category. I'd existed for so long as a fuck up that it didn't really bother me.

Tara and Willow weren't the ones who really counted anyway. Maybe I shouldn't have meant that, but it was true. The Summers women had always held a special place in my heart. The Scooby gang…they were awesome people and I was more than relieved to know that they'd forgiven me, but the sun rose and set with Buffy. It was as simple as breathing, it just was.

So I wasn't at all prepared when B sat down next to me. My entire body froze, unwilling to move to make sure it really was her.

"Faith." My eyes drifted shut, the exquisite pain flaring in my chest. She said my name and I was in heaven and hell at the same time. "Faith, please listen to me."

I think I surprised the hell out of both of us when I said, "No." I looked over at her, finally seeing her as a person.

A flawed person. For all those years, I'd built her up in my mind as some unattainable goal. That I'd make my way back and beg for forgiveness, and she'd give it to me. Maybe we'd get together, maybe we'd just have a bond that ran deeper than blood. But no matter what, in the end we slayed side by side, fulfilling our destinies together.

Together.

Sitting at the bus station, I'd been ready to make myself walk away from everything that I'd ever dreamed of. And, disillusioned with myself and my dreams, I looked at her and for the first time I saw her. When she sat down, my heart hadn't soared – it had broken more.

Maybe I'd have never fixed myself if I hadn't. If I'd given in and listened to her heartfelt speech. It would probably be about how everyone deserved second chances, and that our destiny was too important to fuck it up with our past. The whole time she'd be implying that I was the one at fault. That everything that had happened – the poisoning, the murders, the ascension, the kidnapping of both Willow and her mom, the coma she'd put me in with my own knife, the body switching and the lies, the endless lies – that it was all solely on my shoulders.

Something inside me snapped, because I couldn't believe that anymore. Yeah, I'd be the first to admit that a lot of it was my fault. But a lot of it was her fault. And a lot of it was her friends' fault.

Things weren't nearly so cut and dry as we'd all like to believe.

"No, Buffy, I'm done listening to you. To your speeches, your rants. You listen to me now. When I came here, I was just a little girl. I'd been through a lot of really awful shit before I was even chosen, you know. I was younger than all of you and newer to this whole destiny shit. Yeah, I fucked up; yeah, I fucked up badly. But you fucked up too, B. You were so self-righteous that you left me out to dry rather than admit to any guilt yourself. I'm not going to be the bad guy anymore like you want me to be.

"You want to be the savior, the one true slayer, the one who's better than everybody else. Fuck you, Buffy. Fuck you. I'm not second best. I'm neither better nor worse than you, we're too different for any of that.

"The thing that gets me the most, the kicker, is that it could have been you just as easily as it was me. If your cards had been mine, you wouldn't have been able to avoid the shit any better than I did. And I think that's what terrifies you so much, B. You're more like me than you'll ever admit.

"I'm done playing your games, B."

I was breathing hard and close to tears but I'd gotten it all out. Not the most eloquent speech ever, but it was effective. It felt right. The words that had come pouring out of my mouth surprised even me, but that didn't make them any less true. I felt lighter, like a weight had been lifted from my shoulders.

Buffy sat there, in that shitty looking terminal, skin looking washed out in the harsh lighting and looking even smaller than ever. She even looked a little scared.

I loved her, even then, even after the truth in my speech rang in my mind. I would never stop loving her. No, I never would, but it was time to figure out how to try and love myself.

She opened her mouth to say something, but I walked away from her and got on the bus.

I didn't look back.