Xander sat in his truck listening to the hum of the engine. He let it idled in the parking lot of the convenience store adjacent to Faith's apartment building as he tried to figure out what he was going to do. He stared at the bench seat of the truck allowing his eye to gaze at everything. There was a bouquet of white and red roses he had bought knowing that Faith loved flowers even if she refused to admit it. There was a small jewelry box open next to the flowers with a shining white gold necklace. It was a small nameplate with 'faith' written out in script lettering. Then there was the six pack of Corona that was resting on the floor of the passenger seat. And his brain was definitely not naïve to the times he'd spent with her in the front seat of this truck. He wasn't sure whether or not he was allowed to still categorize those times as good things, since he was deciding that maybe those flings they had had, made it appear that he agreed to their meaninglessness.
He reached his hand towards the necklace and touched the soft fabric of the box. But then he quickly retreated his hand back to himself and slammed his hand on the steering wheel in absolute frustration. Why couldn't Faith have found herself a real man to get involved with? He decided that he was all wrong for the job of helping someone move on from the almost-end of the world. Why couldn't things have worked out between her and Wood and then this wouldn't have ever been an issue?
Xander actually laughed a little to himself as that thought went through his mind. He realized that he didn't really like Robin when the two of them had actually tried to spark something between themselves. Xander realized that Robin was completely oblivious to the fact that he was completely out of his league with Faith. He was Little Leagues compared to her… at least when it came to emotions and relationship issues. He was no where near equipped to deal with her on an intimate level. But when the fuck did he decide that he was better suited for that fucking job?
He glanced towards the beers and then immediately back at the steering wheel, deciding that that would be the easy route and Faith would, without a doubt, call him on it. She'd call him a coward or a sleaze bag, take the beer, yell at him for a little bit and then kick him out on his ass – he hadn't decided whether that last bit was going to be figuratively or literally.
He glanced at his wrist and realized he had now been sitting, idling in the parking lot for well over a half hour, so he grabbed the flowers and jumped out of the truck. He walked at least half way across the lot before he realized that he had left his truck running. He walked back to the truck and turned it off and almost began contemplating the necklace or beer again, but forced himself to continue on with the flowers. He locked the truck and tried for her apartment again.
Xander jogged up the two flights of stairs – he'd actually grown accustomed to the mini-workout since he had done it so often over the past couple of months. He reached the top of the flight and opened the door to enter the hallway. He walked a couple of steps towards her door and then stopped and went back, still undecided about the flowers. What exactly was he giving them to her for? What was their significance? Maybe she didn't even really like flowers… He looked down at the beautiful flowers, twelve red mixed with twelve white, and walked towards her door with them again. He made it about as far as the last time before he stopped and walked back again, unsure if he could come up with anything to say when – not if, but when – she asked him why he was giving them to her. 'Gee Faith, maybe it's because I'm trying absolutely anything to make you happy these days…' No, that definitely wasn't going to be the right thing to say. 'They're an apology…' No, she'd definitely make him specify what he was apologizing for and that would just lead to him getting pissed off about the Ten Inch Muscle Man again. He knew what he was sorry for and it wasn't for getting angry. He was sorry for making her upset.
With a new resolution he walked towards her apartment, clutching the flowers like they were a shield and he was walking towards an army of archers. He knocked on the door, unsure if he was knocking on the door begging to be executed or absolved. He felt himself get nervous – not like, facing the end of the world nervous, but like asking a girl out when he was twelve nervous. She opened the door slightly and looked out at him.
"What?" she asked curtly. He wasn't sure what to say. He looked at her red, puffy eyes and smelled the alcohol on her breath that she had tried to keep hidden by only speaking a short word. That smell had weakened him in an instant since childhood and to this day he still found it hard to stand up against. Standing in front of her, a task that wasn't exactly easy before, was now impossible since he felt like a nine year old standing in front of his drunk father.
"You drinking?" he asked, being sure to keep his tone light and unassuming.
"I'm always drinking," she answered, "what's it to you?"
"Well, it's just that…" he forced a small laugh, "I can't always smell you drinking, that's all." She shrugged,
"I guess the way I smelled wasn't your priority."
"Right," he answered, seeing she was going to be even harder to talk to then he had originally prepared himself for. She still hadn't opened the door any further and he wasn't even sure if he wanted to go in to her apartment at this point. "I umm… wanted to apologize to you for-"
"Forget it," she answered with another shrug.
"No," he answered, almost snapping at her, "I'm not going to forget it. You were really upset and-"
"I wasn't," she defended.
"Yes you were!"
"I wasn't," she repeated, and he gave in.
"Okay," he answered, "but I'm still sorry so I got you these flowers because I thought you had been upset-"
"But I wasn't upset, so you should just keep them."
"You know, I think they'd probably look better in your place. I need all the help I can get to keep my place looking masculine… I'm not sure flowers would really maintain that vibe." He was trying desperately to add some levity to this interaction, that at the time, was so tense he thought if he moved the air around him would shatter like glass.
"Yeah, you've probably got a whole bunch of chicks coming home with you now so you're right, you want to make sure the place looks all manly and shit."
"No, I-"
"Hey, how much did you pay for those?"
"That's not the point," he answered.
"I'm just curious how much you thinking getting me back into bed is worth," she added caustically.
"I'm not trying to get you back into bed," he answered, angry that that was all she thought he was doing.
"Oh, so you do have a bunch of chicks waiting for you back at your place, huh?"
"You know, one of these days I'm really going to find myself a friendly girl… one who's not defensive or angry or mean. One of these days, I'm going to find someone who enjoys me and," he raises the flowers up in between them and adds, "the stupid fucking things I do to try and make them happy."
"Why not make that day today," she answered angrily.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that you should go find some other girl, you know, one that'll actually make you happy, today… now, 'cause we're done."
"I already had that girl."
"Please, spare me the Anya speech, okay? I've heard it. Besides, you've got chicks to fuck and I've got JD to drink, so just go." With that she closed the door, leaving him out in the hallway with the flowers in his hand and tears beginning to well up in his eye.
"I was talking about you," he muttered to himself as he dropped the flowers onto the ground in the stairwell.
Faith walked back into her apartment, closing her eyes tightly in an attempt to block out her emotions. She returned to her couch, pulling her legs up to her chest and grabbing the half-empty bottle of Jack from the floor. She took another sip and swallowed it quickly, staring at the television as she flipped the channels quickly.
She took another sip, this time a longer one, just before wiping the tears from her eyes. How did he know that she loved flowers? She knew she'd never admitted that to anyone. The tears continued to fill her eyes; she pressed the back of her wrist, covered in her sweatshirt's sleeve, to both of them, trying to blot away the tears. As the lump in her throat began to rise she held it down with another swig of Jack.
"Hey," Willow greeted, sliding into a seat next to Xander at a local diner.
"Hey," he greeted back, happy to see her and Kennedy. They hadn't planned to meet each other but on more than one occasion they'd met there. It was a reliable place for decent food and it opened pretty early in the morning so it was a good stop before going to check in at headquarters.
"You okay?" Kennedy asked, getting a good look at his furrowed brown sitting across from him in the booth.
"I guess so," he answered. He looked down at his coffee for a minute before lifting it up to take a sip.
"I know you don't want me asking," Willow said, "but I'm asking. What's up with the fight you and Faith were having a couple days ago?" He didn't answer, he just reverted back to staring at his coffee and she pressed, "Are you two… umm… not just road trip pals like I worked so hard to convince everybody that you were?"
"They are so into each other," Kennedy answered. "I've been telling you that since forever!"
"It's not really mutual," he answered, feeling less confident about everything between them as every minute passed.
"Oh, don't even try to pretend. You're constantly looking at her when you think nobody's looking," Kennedy answered with a grin.
"I know I'm into her… I mean, what part of Faith is there for a guy not to be into…"
"The lacking sanity part of her," Willow answered, knowing it was mean but also knowing it was true.
"Faith's better when she's been hanging out with Xander," Kennedy added. She spent a lot of time training with Faith and she had been able to see a significant difference in her demeanor at around the time when Kennedy suspected things began with Xander.
"Hold on," Willow said quickly, "You've been hanging out with Faith… as in, for a longer time than just these past couple of days?"
"A couple of months," he admitted.
"Months?" Willow almost choked on the word. He nodded and she inquired, "By hanging out you mean just like, watching movies and stuff, right?"
"No, Will," he answered, almost ashamed that he had hidden it from her – again!-, "we've been sleeping together for a while." He didn't like to make it public news because it seemed like Faith didn't want to deal with the repercussions of other people knowing. "I'm sorry I wasn't upfront with you about it," he added, seeing the look of distress on her face.
"I just… I guess I can't really see how you'd be comfortable being with her like that again."
"It's a lot different… she's a lot different… in some ways," he admitted.
"So why are you guys fighting?" Kennedy asked, wanting to give Willow a few minutes to let everything sink in.
"Because we both fucked up," he answered. "We were both in it for the physical in the beginning but… I said it once and I'll say it again, we have a connection and that made it just get complicated."
"Faith can give you thirty ways to knock the wind out of someone but the girl doesn't know shit about dealing with her emotions," Kennedy concluded.
"So during those couple of months," Willow rationalized, "do you mean like once every month or so, or are we talking like a steady, every night kind of deal?" Xander looked at her and she knew it was the latter.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I just thought it would be disrespecting her if I did."
"You don't have to apologize… I'm just kind of shocked that Faith would be with anyone for that long."
"She really likes him," Kennedy answered, nodding her head at the fact.
"So, do you ever lock your door?" Buffy asked as she walked into Faith's living room. Faith rubbed her face with her hand and asked,
"So, do you ever knock?"
"I think we're past pleasantries by now, don't you?" she asked. She had seen the bottle of Jack Daniels beside the couch as soon as she had walked into the room – her eyes had been drawn to it immediately. She was worried about Faith the last time she had been here over a week ago and that was just going on a hunch.
"Sure," she answered, her tone showing that she was just too out of it to really talk just yet.
"Some party last night, huh?" Buffy asked, motioning towards the empty bottle of Jack Daniels.
"Nah," she answered, "just a normal night in my completely pathetic life."
"Wow, so we really are past the pleasantries," Buffy answered, seeing that Faith wasn't even trying to pretend that she was feeling okay.
"That's what you said," she answered. Buffy looked over at Faith as she just slid back down onto the couch wanting to go back to sleep.
"You're supposed to train with Kennedy," she reminded her.
"She'll get over it," Faith answered.
"Faith, get up," Buffy snapped, her strict-mom voice singing loud and clear. Faith glared at her – the look a complete challenge. "She looks forward to it and you know it!"
"B, guilt trips are basically lost on me at this point. I've got as much guilt as I can ever have already in my head, alright? There isn't room for me to care about anymore of that shit…"
"Faith, you're doing great with the big redemptive stuff but it's the everyday, little stuff, like say, getting up in the morning, that's hard!"
"No, dealing with a hangover from drinking a bottle of Jack Daniels is hard! B, just beat it."
"Kennedy's going to be really disappointed," Buffy answered, trying the guilt trip path once more.
"That girl doesn't know what disappointment is."
"Okay, so why don't you define it for me so I can tell her?" Buffy waited for Faith to respond with something other than a groan. When she didn't receive anything filling that requirement she answered it herself. "Disappointment… now I'm just guessing since I'm sure I've never been disappointed before either, so I probably don't understand it like you do," she began sarcastically, "but from what I've been told, it's when someone you look up to or love or care about hurts you by not being there for you. But wait, I must not have that right because you said Kennedy doesn't know what disappointment is and I've just described exactly what you're doing!"
"B, save it, alright?" Faith snapped, but her tone was clearly less biting that before as she realized that she was sitting directly in the wrong.
"You're not in town a lot recently, and I know that's because of you working to recruit Slayers, but… Faith she looks up to you and apparently you're moving to Chicago for no one knows how long and then she's really never going to see you. But I guess never seeing you is better than just thinking she's going to see you."
Buffy shook her head slightly at Faith. The small gesture had a large effect on Faith. For some reason she had always been yearning for Buffy's approval on some level or another, and now she was definitely not getting it. She saw the disappointment in Buffy's face out of her partially ajar eye and before she could even realize it, her eyes were filling with tears. None had escaped but the fact that they had sprung from the maximum security cells she kept them in deep within her was enough.
She forced herself into a slumped sitting position, hanging her head close to her legs as she tilted her face to look at Buffy.
"It really didn't take me very long to fuck up my life all over again, did it?"
"No, it didn't." Buffy's tone was rigid and unforgiving as were her steps as she turned and left the apartment. She knew she was being rigid, but a part of her really loved Faith and another part really hated the person she let herself become. When Faith was happy, there was no better friend in the world, but when she slipped into her depression – Buffy guessed that that was the word to use – there was nothing uglier. Buffy hated people who drank to try and get rid of their problems and Faith definitely fell into that habit.
Buffy knew that there were worse ways that Faith wanted to use to make herself feel better and Buffy was proud that she hadn't gone back to those, but it was still no excuse for doing this. She went with the theory that if a person is in drug rehab for cocaine, they shouldn't be allowed to start smoking cigarettes. Yeah, cigarettes aren't as bad as cocaine, but switching one crutch for another is still using a crutch.
Faith went and trained with Kennedy that morning. She didn't feel well but she sucked it up and went. Between spars she went to the bathroom to throw up and when she got back she'd go another round with the kid. It was torture, but she felt that she probably deserved it.
She went through the day feeling like she was just in a funk. She felt disconnected with everything, even when she was touching it. She would pick up a glass of water and feel as though she was operating someone else's hand in order to hold up the glass. When she drank the water she felt like the glass was pressed against someone else's lips and the water ran down someone else's throat. She felt detached.
After training with Kennedy she went back to her apartment. She didn't know why her brain was in such a haze until after three days of nothing but naps and showers.
She was in the shower with the water hitting her like small bullets when it hit her – she really had gone and fucked up her life again. Angel had untangled it and put it in a nice bow and as soon as she'd taken it for only a short time she'd somehow managed to kink it into a jumble.
She was drinking again… a lot, and she knew it. She knew it was a nasty habit and she knew she didn't like the person she was when she was drinking this much, but that was besides the fact that she was drinking again. She'd put gauzy thin patches on her relationship with Buffy and now the carefully laid patches were starting to rip open. She'd gone and disappointed the only person that had ever looked up to her and the only reason she'd shown up to train with her was because of a fucking guilt trip. And to top it all off she'd completely fallen for Xander and didn't know how to handle it.
She's fallen for him harder than she'd even realized. She'd become so comfortable with him that it slipped her mind how into him she was until he'd said those three fatal words – I love you. And she freaked… absolutely and completely freaked. If she didn't care about him she would've just smiled and nodded at those words, but when she felt everything inside of her leap to her throat ready to repeat the phrase… she freaked. Love was tainted in her mind… she couldn't comprehend it without vicious, painful strings attached.
And she probably could've gotten over, or at least distracted herself from this whole love dilemma, but now her body and her mind protested anyone's touch but his. She'd tried and she couldn't even help herself out, that's how bad it was! She would've continued to find replacements for Sean from the gym and been completely content, except for the flaw in her plan… the only replacements for Sean that she wanted was Xander, the person she was trying to distract herself from in the first place.
A part of her also wanted to prove to him that he was full of shit when he said he loved her. She'd never been with anyone who said those words and actually came through with it. She'd been infatuated and she'd been the object of infatuation… but never love. But the kicker was, when she was with Xander, she was pretty sure that's what love felt like… almost. Both of them had held themselves back from really loving the other – not in bed, but in other areas. They didn't hold each other as long as they wanted to… they didn't tell each other things that were burning inside of them… they didn't let themselves look at the other the way that they really wanted to.
Faith thought about all of those things and grabbed her phone.
