TITLE: Do you really want me?

AUTHOR: faith-in-Faith

DISCLAIMER: Don't own a thing. Why isn't anyone surprised?

RATING: PG-13

SPOILERS: Up to and including season five up to the last two episodes, and my story "All that glitters is not gold."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: OK, so this is where I'll stop following the show's plot, and the reasons to that is basically because Bosco, getting shot the way he was in the show doesn't fit in this story. I think it's messy enough as it is. ;) and I don't think anyone would be any happier if I did another take on the season final or opener. A lot of writers – all better than me – have already taken care of that :D In this story Fred still left and cheated on Faith (I can't believe they gave me that one for free LOL) and poor Mikey is still dead, but there was no car bomb and no shooting at the hospital. Just an ordinary funeral. So here you are. The next chapter in my story, which I guess is now an AU one ;)

BUT before you start, THANK YOU all for the wonderful reviews I'm speechless. :) And thank you, Joey. What would I ever do without you?

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

I rub my cheek with a piece of toilet paper, trying to get rid of the blood. I cut myself shaving and it annoys me. Not that the person I'm going to meet with this afternoon will notice but still it annoys me. Finally, the cut stops bleeding and I can continue to get ready. I button up my shirt and run my hands over my hair to smooth it down. I still haven't gotten used to how short it is, but I have to admit that Faith was right when she told me I'd feel better if I cut it.

It's been almost two months now since Mikey died. It's hard for me to accept and it still feels cruel and unfair but, even so, I feel better than I have in a very long time. It's all because of Faith. Ever since Mikey died she's been there for me in every way possible. She helped both Ma and me through the funeral and she's been calling me every morning to make sure I'm OK. If I'm not, she always comes over right away, to talk to me, or comfort me, or just hang around for a bit so I don't have to be alone. It's kind of amazing how she manages to make the demons go away just by merely being there but come to think of it – that's how it's always has been.

My stomach is better than it has bee in months, too, and for the first time since Faith got shot I feel like I'm in control of the things that happen around me. I miss Mikey like hell but it seems like I've finally learned how to deal with a loss, and of course Faith was the one who taught me how. She's amazing and I still haven't been able to figure out what I've done to deserve someone like her, but I've decided not to dwell on it. Instead I'm just going to be grateful for what I have.

Now, when I'm feeling OK enough to start acknowledging the world around me, I worry about her. I think something is bothering her. Maybe it's something with Fred. She's been spending way too much time with me lately for his likening. I should probably ask her but it's so damn unpleasant, considering that I'm most likely the reason for her problems – as always. I know I have to though, because she looks so pale, thin and sad. And I can only think of one other thing, except Fred, that could make her look that way, and that I'm not even going to think about that because I can't deal with it. I know it's my turn to be there for her. I just have to find the right moment. It's not going to be today, though, because it's our day off and I need to be there for someone else.

I'm going to meet with Emily. She called me and wanted to talk. She sounded anxious and lost and I have a feeling that it has something to do with why Faith looks so unhappy. I figured that being there for Em today might is going to give me a clue as to what's going on and make it easier to help Faith. I hope this whole thing with Em isn't going to get too complicated, because I'm not that good with kids and my advice usually stinks. Not to mention that you only have to take one look at the mess that's my life to know I have bad judgement. But I'm going to give it my best effort.

I spot her as soon as I enter the café. She's sitting alone at a table by the window and I get a feeling of déjà-vu. She looks so much like Faith that it's scary and I can feel all the emotions from that day in the restaurant rushing over me, but I quickly suppress them. If I'm going to be able to help Emily with whatever problem she has, I need to stay focused, not dwell on the past. As I approach the table she looks up and meets my gaze. I smile and sit down facing her.

"Hi, Em."

She grins at me. "Hi, Dad."

I can't help but grin myself and I know that kind of ruin the seriousness in my next reply.

"We need to stop this game, Em, before it gets us both in trouble."

But I know she gets the message, because she lowers her head and murmurs unhappily, "I know, I'm sorry."

I feel bad, after all, it's just a harmless joke, and if it makes her happy to call me Dad then what harm can it do? It's not like I have anyone who could get jealous....

"Hey, look at me." She looks up with an embarrassed look on her face. "It's OK. You can call me Dad if you want to."

She smiles. "No. That's OK. I was just joking around."

I nod before asking, "So what do you wanna talk about?"

She looks down at the tabletop and bites her lip the same way Faith always does when she's nervous.

"Emmy? What's wrong?" I coax gently, starting to get really worried.

She lifts her head to look at me. "Did you work with Mom yesterday?"

I nod, feeling slightly puzzled. Why wouldn't I ride with Faith and, more importantly, why doesn't Em just ask Faith herself?

"Did she seem OK?"

The question immediately makes my heart start racing. Why is she asking that? Why wouldn't Faith be OK? The only reason I can think of is that she's sick again, and she can't be. She just can't, because there's no way I could make it through another day without her. There has to be another reason – anything - but she can't be sick again. She just can't.

I swallow hard, trying to collect myself before answering. "Yeah, she seemed fine, a little tired maybe. Why?"

Emily fiddles with her straw, just like Faith did that day. "Just wondering."

"Why don't you ask her yourself?" I ask kindly, hoping that she isn't going to be able to hear the fear in my voice. She's here because she needs me to support her, not to calm my fragile nerves.

"I haven't seen her for a while."

Her voice is very low - almost a whisper - and she refuses to look at me. Her reply just increases my confusion. I can't understand why she hasn't seen Faith for a while. It was long ago since we had to work overtime, and this past week she hasn't spent so much time with me either because I've been feeling OK enough to be alone.

Maybe the stupid kid has run away? No. That's not possible. Faith would have been too freaked out about it not to tell me.

"How's that?"

She looks unhappily at me. "She hasn't told you, has she?"

"Told me what?"

I hardly recognize my voice. It sounds hoarse and thick, but that's because I'm so afraid I can barely breathe. I really fear her answer. I'm scared to death that she's about to tell me that Faith has got cancer again that she's going to die, and I fear that if she tells me that, I'm going to have another panic attack.

She takes a deep breath. "We don't live with her anymore. Dad left her and we had to come with him."

"What?"

"Dad left her and took us with him. I haven't seen her more than a couple of times the past two months," she repeats patiently.

"He left her two months ago?"

She nods in reply. I know I'm sounding like a stupid parrot, but at this point I'm more than confused and I'm having a really hard time sorting out my feelings. They are a confusing mess of relief, dismay and anger. I'm so relieved that what I feared the most isn't happening, I could cry. She's not going to die from me, but it's horrible that Fred has left her and I feel sorry for her. Sorry and guilty, because I know he probably left her because of me but I'm pissed, too – really pissed. I thought we'd agreed on not keeping secrets anymore but that obviously meant that I agreed to that – not her. The anger finally wins, and for a moment I'm forgetting that I'm here to help Em and let my emotions get better of me.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me."

Emily looks at me and I know she can tell I'm angry, because her next reply sounds like a plea. "Please, Bosco, don't be mad at her. She probably didn't want to burden you with more bad stuff right now. She was probably afraid you'd feel guilty and get sick again."

I close my eyes and all the anger disappears. As usual, it's all because if me. If I hadn't been so damn weak and pathetic, she'd have told me and then I could have been there for her when she needed me. Instead, I have to sit here and hear her daughter pleading with me not to judge her. I really am a loser. I wish I knew why Faith chooses to stick with me over and over again.

"I'm sorry," I murmur apologetically.

Em twists her hands nervously. "You can't be angry with her because she really needs you right now. This with Dad cheating on her is really getting to her."

I stare at her in disbelief and I can feel anger build up inside again.

"Did he cheat on her?"

Emily looks down again, looking embarrassed – like she was the one guilty as charged. "Yeah, but it really wasn't her fault. I know she tried."

I nod reassuringly. "I know."

We sit in silence while I'm trying to sort things out. I can't believe it's true. I can't believe that Fred really cheated on her. I thought he loved her. He really is a jerk. No wonder Emily wants to call me Dad. Right now I want to kick his ass more than anything, but I'm relieved, too. I'm relieved that, for once, I'm not the one responsible for her problems. Poor Faith. We really need to talk about this. I need her to know that I'm OK now - that I'm ready to take care of her for a change.

As if Emily could read my mind, she replies, "You need to take care of her. She needs you."

Her voice sounds shaky and I feel sorry for her. Divorces are always hardest on the kids. I know that from experience and it isn't hard to tell she's very worried of Faith, and so am I. She really hasn't looked so hot lately.

"I will, I promise. Don't worry about it, OK? I'll take care of her for you," I reply firmly.

She smiles slightly. "Good."

Again, we sit in silence for a couple of minutes and then Emily starts talking again, quietly, hesitation evident in her voice.

"Do you like my Mom?"

I'm too stunned to be able to form a reply; I just stare dumbly at her. What kind of question is that, and what on earth makes her ask something like that?

She bits her bottom lip and when she speaks again she almost sounds scared. "Do you?"

I realize that I have to give her an answer before she starts to make assumptions I don't. I clear my throat. "Of course I like your Mom. You ought to know that by now. I think she's great. She's my best friend, and she's always there for me, no matter what, and I love her for it. So, of course I like your Mom. Why do you ask?"

She dodges my question to ask another one. "You think she's pretty?"

Once again I just stare at her. What the hell is this about? I'm really not following and I'm stating to feel completely lost. I know teen-age girls are difficult to figure out. Hell, all women are. But this is just too much. But I know she's hurting because of what has happened with her parents and that I need to go easy on her.

"Emmy, what's this all about?" I ask gently.

She looks down at her hands again. "Nothing."

"Come on, Em, you're not expecting me to buy that, are you? You know I'm not that stupid."

"I just wanna know if you think she's pretty," she answers defensively, but I can hear that she's close to tears.

"And why's that important for you to know?"

She doesn't answer, just keeps looking down at the tabletop, playing with her straw.

I sigh. I've never been able to understand women but I know from experience that your best option is to give them what they want, and Emily probably isn't an exception.

"I don't know, OK? I haven't really thought about it. She's my partner and best friend. I don't look at her that way. I'm sorry. Can you now, please, tell me what this is all about?"

She looks up at me, and the look on her face is so heartbreakingly sad that I want to hug her.

"Because I want you to like her."

"But, Em, I do like her – just not that way," I reply kindly.

"But I want you to like her that way."

She both looks and acts like a stubborn five-years- old and I'm totally lost. I don't get any of this. I'm starting to fear that her parents' separation has made her mentally ill, but I decide to give it one more shot because I have a feeling this is something I need to understand.

"Why?"

"Because she loves you."

Are the shocking statements of today never going to end? I don't believe what she's saying because I know - beyond any doubt - that it's not true, and there's only one explanation to why she would think such a thing: Fred. He's always been ridiculously jealous of me – the reason why are beyond me but it fits perfectly. If he claims that she loves me instead of him, he has a perfect excuse to justify his behaviour, and he was probably hoping to turn the kids against her by feeding them with that lie. God, he really is a bigger ass than I thought and I'm going to make sure he gets a good ass kicking, but first I need to make Em understand that this is just a sick game Fred's playing to get to Faith.

"Em, that isn't true and deep inside I think you know that. I love your Mom, a lot, but only as a friend but you don't have to worry, I'll take care of her and be there for her, OK? I know this thing with your parents not living together anymore is hard and confusing, but it's important that you understand that, right now, you can't believe what either of them are saying about each other. They're just trying to be mean. I know that sounds cruel but unfortunately that's how we grown-ups work."

"You don't understand; Dad never told me that - she did."

For the third time this day, all I can do is to stare at her. Is this nightmare never going to end? No matter what I say, things seem to get worse with every minute that goes by and I wonder if it's me, Emily or Faith that's losing it. There's no chance she really said something like that, right? But the look on Emily's face tells me she probably did. I really wish I were a bit smarter because this is far too complicated for me to grasp, but, once again, I have a feeling I really need to understand this before it ends up in disaster.

I take deep breath in order to pull myself together and ask carefully, "When did she tell you that?"

"She didn't tell me at first. I figured it out myself. When she said she needed to go back to work in order to be there for you I saw it in her eyes."

I feel relieved. So this is what it's all about, an illusion in the imagination of a romantic teen- aged girl.

"Em...," I start, but she cutes me off.

"No, Bosco, listen to me. I know you think I'm imagining things but I asked her about it and she said she did, but she looked unhappy when she said it and I realized that you didn't feel the same way. I told her it served her right for betraying us all."

Her eyes are filled with guilt and regret and suddenly I know for sure that she's telling the truth, because the only reason for her to lie about this is to hurt Faith and it's clear to me that that's not what she wants. She's desperately trying to make life easier for her mother.

I run my hands over my hair in frustration. "Did she tell you how long this has been going on?"

"I got the impression she always has. Kind like from the day she met you."

I can't believe it's true. I don't want it to be true because that means that what we have is just an illusion. That means that's been lying to me, not just every now and then, but the whole fucking time.

"You're not angry, right?" Emily asks nervously and I can tell I've scared her again.

I force a smile on my lips. "No, Em, I'm not angry. Just a bit overwhelmed."

She doesn't seem convinced. "You can't be angry. She didn't mean any harm. She's a good person, much better than Dad because she never acted on it, and you promised to take care of her, remember?"

Better person, my ass! A notorious, coward liar that's what she is. I force another smile. "I know, and I will, OK?"

She nods uncertainly. "OK, I need to go now."

"That's OK. I have some things to do myself," I reply and stand up.

We leave the café at the same time. She turns around and waves at me, and I force one last smile. I don't feel like smiling one bit. I feel like hitting something because I'm angry as hell. I can't believe she really did this to me. I can't believe she built our whole partnership on a lie. All those years, all those times I trusted her, all those times I thought she cared about me because she was my friend... and it was all just a damn lie! The truth is that she was probably just waiting for an opportunity to get inside my pants. I wonder what she was thinking all the times she touched me, when she'd hold me in her arms. The thought makes me feel sick and with angry steps, I'm starting to walk down the street toward her apartment. I totally ignore the voice deep inside my head, telling me that I'm wrong and jumping to conclusions – as always. And I refuse to look at all the good marks her help and support has left in my soul. The very same marks I swore I'd never fail to see again when I sat by her bed that night at the hospital, because all I can think of is that she's been lying to me and that she has a hell of a lot of explaining to do.