Animatus
Notes: Thanks for the reviews. As always, keep them coming.
Previously:
"Why are you doing this?"
"I don't know," Buffy admitted.
"You have to figure that out," Faith said, sliding passed Buffy, who looked at her disappointedly. "Look, B," Faith said, turning back to her. "I've wanted you for a long time. I feel something for you. But I don't know if you feel anything for me other than regret that you broke up with your boyfriend and you have no one else hold at night. So figure it out and then we'll see where to go from here."
Chapter Sixteen: The Power of a Simple Thank You:
Faith could hear the rain pounding down on the flimsy roof of the motel in which she was staying. A large stain was starting to spread across the ceiling in the right hand corner of the room, just next to the door. Faith watched as a single drop of water as it collected, stretched, and fell. It seemed to fall forever, silently plunging towards the ground until it collided with the carpet in a tiny explosion of water, which obliterated the drop and sent thousands of particles careening through the air. Christy had been dead for less than eight hours. The police had questioned Faith and left with the other girl's body shoved unceremoniously in the back of a van. She had been tempted to follow them to the morgue, if only for the chance to glimpse her girlfriend for one, last time, but decided against it when she realized that Christy's parents would be there waiting.
Bitter tears stung her eyes as she lay in her darkened room, listening to the rain, and watching the water stain. She could have done something to prevent her girlfriend's death. She knew how to fight; she could have disarmed the man. She could have talked down him, tried to reason with him when she sensed that he was starting to lose control. Faith knew that there were many things that she could have done differently that night, but those things did not haunt her nearly as much as the reality of what she had done. She had given up; she had let the man take control from her and she had done it willingly. She could still feel the roughness of the concrete scraping into her knees as she knelt, waiting for Christy to hand her money over to the man. She had submitted and her girlfriend was dead.
"It's my fault," she whispered absently. "I should have done something." A flash of lightening illuminated the room from the outside. Thunder storms usually did not occur in winter, but when one did, it was spectacular. Faith pulled herself up off of her bed and moved over to the window. Sitting beside it, she rested her forehead against the cool glass and sighed. The rain streaked down the window, much like the tears that had started to streak down her face. Wiping them away angrily, she squeezed her eyes closed.
She hated herself more in that moment than she ever had. Always, she had allowed herself to be directed by the will of others. She had stood for the abuse dolled out to her by her mother and her endless stream of boyfriends. She had never complained; she had never fought back. Instead, she had released her anger onto others, people who did not deserve to feel her wrath. While she had thought that she had been in control of her life, she realized now that she never had been. Someone had always taken control away from her and she was through with allowing it to happen. She was going to take the control back, regardless of whether she had to fight, struggle, and claw through the world to do it.
A boom of thunder resounded through the room, startling her. The clouds were releasing rain more heavily now. She barely could see out of the window. Closing her eyes, she allowed her tired mind a chance to rest. She could still feel the impression of Christy's lips on her own. The taste of her lip gloss lingered on Faith's tongue and the smell of her shampoo seemed to linger in the room, though it was coupled with the distinct, sharp scent of gunpowder. Faith could still feel the other girl's warm hand clutching happily her own as they had walked together. The sensations were too much for her and she permitted herself a moment of weakness, weeping silently against the window, the sound drowned by the boom of thunder and the crashing of the rain on the roof.
She cried until the tears would come no longer and then she sat silently, oblivious to the ticking of the clock, and the slow dawning of the day occurring just outside of her window. Suddenly, she felt something strange come over her, like a presence had entered the room and pushed its way into her body. Her fingertips seemed to hum with an invisible energy. The sound of the rain on the roof came alive, pulsing through her in a deafening wail. Despite the darkness of the room, she could see perfectly, as though the sun were shining brightly outside. The imaginary smells of shampoo and gun powder were replaced by the acrid smell of mold and something that Faith could not identify, but knew found its home in her room. She wanted to run. She wanted to move. She wanted to do anything but sit still and, as these thoughts raced through her mind, another surfaced unexpectedly. She wanted to kill something.
Someone knocked on her door and Faith felt the pounding ringing through her mind like someone was banging on a drum right next to her skull. "Who is it?" She growled, livid to have been disturbed. Glancing over at the old alarm clock on the nightstand, she wondered who would be calling for her at such an early hour. Even the sun had not risen yet.
"Faith?" A female voice questioned, thickly laced with a British accent.
Faith frowned, stood, and moved over to the door. Swinging it open, she surveyed the woman standing in front of her. She was dressed conservatively, with her brown hair pulled tightly into a bun, and deep blue eyes that nearly glowed. Faith searched her memory, trying to connect the woman's face to a name until she realized that never before had she seen her. "Who are you?" Faith asked roughly.
"My name is Kate Stewart," she replied amicably, extending her hand. Faith looked at it warily for a moment before shaking it briefly. "May I come in?"
"Sure," Faith said, opening the door for her. Though she did not know the stranger walking into her motel room, she felt at ease with her, as if she knew that she was not a threat.
"I'm sure you're wondering who I am at this point," Kate began. "You may not know me, but I know you."
"That comforting," Faith muttered.
Kate smiled warmly. "You might want to sit down. I have many things to explain to you, most of which will seem quite absurd."
Faith sighed, nodding as she sat back down by the window. Kate pulled up a chair and sat across from her. "How do you know me? I've never seen you before," Faith stated.
"I work for an organization called The Watcher's Council," Kate explained. "It's been around for quite a long time and serves the sole purpose of fighting things that most people don't even know exist."
"Like what?" Faith asked, intrigued despite herself.
"I'll get to that," Kate said patiently. "You see, the Council is designed to aid a very special person. One person in all of the world. One girl. That girl is you."
"Me?" Faith asked, laughing bitterly. "You're here to help me?"
"I know it sounds bizarre," Kate admitted. "But you're gifted."
"I think you have the wrong person," Faith began.
"No," Kate interrupted, "I'm sure I'm in the right place. You see, this world is filled with many kinds of evil. Some is human," Kate explained. Faith thought of the man that had killed her girlfriend some hours before and nodded. "But some of it is not."
"What do you mean?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.
"There's no real easy way to explain this," Kate muttered. "Oh, bloody hell. Here it is. Vampires, demons, and other creatures of supernatural origin exist. They're running around the world, as we speak, killing people and causing vast amounts of chaos. To combat this, the Powers that Be created something called a vampire Slayer. You are the vampire Slayer. One girl in all of the world chosen to fight the forces of darkness."
Faith sighed deeply. "I know a place, right down the road, I think they can help you," she said.
"I'm not insane," Kate said dismissively.
"Have you heard yourself speak?" Faith asked sarcastically.
"I know that this doesn't make much sense to you. But I can prove it," Kate stated eagerly.
"How?" Faith asked
"I can show you," she answered. "And then you'll believe me."
Faith sat back, leaning against the window as she intently watched the woman sitting in front of her. She had no reason to believe that what she had said was true; yet, something inside of her urged her to give the woman a chance to prove herself. Finally, Faith nodded. "Show me."
………………………………..
"Mom?" Buffy asked, moving over to her mother as the card game that had held her attention rapt for several hours finally disbanded.
"Buffy," Joyce stated warmly. "What's wrong, honey? You look exhausted."
"I wanted to talk with you about something," the blonde Slayer replied. "In private."
"Okay," Joyce nodded, leading them to a corner of the room in which no one was sitting.
"I broke up with Riley earlier. I don't know if word had gotten around to you yet," Buffy explained.
"I heard from Willow. I'm sorry," Joyce said sympathetically. "He seemed like a nice man."
"He is," Buffy nodded.
"So what happened?" Joyce asked curiously. She had seen the way that Buffy had been interacting with Faith. Though she had sensed that something more was occurring between the two Slayers than friendship, she had not wanted to jump to any conclusions.
"I think when I first started dating him I really did feel something for him," Buffy stated, looking down at her hands as she spoke. "But I don't feel that anymore. Not for him anyway."
"But you do feel that for someone else?" Joyce prodded.
"Maybe," Buffy said, looking up at her mother uncertainly. "I don't know."
"Buffy," Joyce smiled patiently, "I think you do know. I think you're just scared of the answer."
Buffy squinted her eyes suspiciously and gazed at the older woman. "You know more than you're letting on, don't you?" She asked.
Joyce laughed. "I'm your mother, Buffy," she stated. "Of course I know more than I'm letting on."
"I kissed Faith," Buffy suddenly confessed, reddening when the words left her mouth. Joyce watched her daughter's reaction amusedly. She had dealt with the knowledge that her daughter was a vampire Slayer. Nothing else would surprise her.
"When?" Joyce asked.
"A few minutes ago," Buffy replied embarrassedly. "In the back room."
"How did Faith react?" Joyce questioned, sensing that the event had not gone quite as Buffy would have liked.
"She kissed me back," Buffy acknowledged.
"So why are we having this conversation?" Joyce asked confusedly.
"She wanted to know why I did it," Buffy explained. "But I couldn't think of anything to say. I froze. She thought that I was coming on to her because I was upset about breaking up with Riley. But that's not true."
"Did you tell her that?" Joyce stated, sighing when Buffy shook her head. "Maybe you should start there."
"You're not upset about all of this?" Buffy asked, noticing her mother's lack of reaction to her revelation that she had been making out with another woman.
"Buffy," Joyce smiled patiently, "zombies have taken over Sunnydale. Before I found out that you were a Slayer, I didn't even know that zombies existed. I'm beyond surprise at this point."
Buffy laughed. "I understand," she said.
"You and Faith have had a difficult past to say the least," Joyce said seriously. "I know that it's hard to move beyond that. I think once you accept that Faith is a different person now, it'll be easier for you to accept your feelings for her. Maybe then you can tell her how you really feel."
Buffy nodded. "Thanks, Mom," she said gratefully.
Joyce smiled. "That's what mothers are for."
……………………………
Faith sat by the bar of the Bronze, watching people milling about as the sun started to set outside. Her muscles were begging for use, the Slayer inside of her pleading with her to leave the safety of the club and seek out something to kill. Tapping her fingers restlessly on her leg, she sighed. She wanted to hunt and she knew that her inner Slayer would not be pleased until she did. However, she was not willing to leave the club while hundreds of zombies descended upon it, nor while her sister Slayer was lingering behind. "You really want to g-get out there, huh?" Tara asked, walking over to Faith.
"What?" Faith snapped, looking at the blonde girl sharply, before softening her gaze. "Sorry," she said. "I'm just feeling a little restless."
"I k-know what you mean," Tara acknowledged. "I'm not a S-slayer and I'm s-still feeling claustrophobic."
"Why do you do that?" Faith asked, looking over at her interestedly. Though Willow had reacted adversely to Faith's reemergence in the lives of the Scoobies, Tara had withheld judgment, refusing to condemn the former rogue simply because Willow had hoped that she would. Faith appreciated the other girl's support, as she had found little in the red haired witch.
"D-do what?" Tara asked.
"Stutter," Faith stated. Tara blushed and looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry," Faith apologized, mentally kicking herself.
"It's o-okay," Tara smiled. "I c-can't really control it. It s-stops sometimes though."
"When?" Faith asked curiously.
"When I'm c-comfortable with whoever I'm talking to," Tara explained.
Faith nodded. "That makes sense."
"H-how long do you think they'll have us wait here?" Tara asked, nodding towards Riley, who was pacing back and forth in front of the main doors of the Bronze. The nightly moaning of the zombies had commenced and Faith noticed that everyone in the club looked tense. She, however, was starting to feel at ease with the sound.
"I don't know," Faith admitted. "As long as Riley thinks we should wait," she added, disgruntled.
"You d-don't sound too happy with that," Tara noted.
"I just don't like him," Faith shrugged.
"Because h-he was with Buffy?" Tara questioned. Faith shot her a look, but she did not back down from her question.
Faith smiled slightly, impressed with the blonde girl. "Maybe," she acknowledged. Looking up, she saw Willow approaching them hesitantly. "I should go," Faith said, standing.
"No," Willow said quickly, as she slid into a seat next to Tara. "Stay."
"What?" Faith asked, looking over at her confusedly.
"I want you to stay," Willow said, though it seemed to Faith that was forcing the words out of her mouth.
"Okay," Faith nodded and sat.
"I never thanked you," Willow stated.
"For what?" Faith asked in shock.
"Saving us," Willow answered. "We couldn't have stayed at the dorm for much longer and, without any weapons, Buffy wouldn't have been able to lead us out. You saved us. So thank you."
"You're welcome," Faith said quietly after several long moments. Tara smiled over at Willow and slipped her hand into the witch's, squeezing it gently.
Faith looked away, feeling like she was intruding on a private moment between the two women. Glancing up at the second level of the Bronze, she saw Buffy standing by the railing, gazing absently down at the first floor. The blonde Slayer's eyes shifted when she felt Faith's presence and she looked down at the dark haired girl. Faith smiled up at her slightly, her eyes soft and dark in the fading light. Buffy smiled back, suddenly realizing how beautiful the other girl was and how much she wanted to be sitting next to her. In that moment, she knew exactly how she felt for the dark haired Slayer. Moving away from the railing, she let her feet guide her towards the stairs, determined to tell Faith exactly what she wanted to know.