"You again?" said Buffy, "I thought I took care of you the last time."
"Well that's the thing about people like us," said her opponent, "We're tough to kill."
"Oh," said Buffy, throwing a punch, "So like a roach?"
"No!" said Willow, hitting back, "No, like a… I dunno. Not a roach. Like something cool, like an eagle, or a really big cat."
Buffy and Willow were in the yard once again, training hard. It had become a routine for them, and Willow hadn't had another incident like the first time. It was good for them, they both figured. Buffy was ecstatic to have a training partner, and the Slayer provided much-needed motivation for Willow. When Willow would rather sit at her computer or read a book, Buffy was there to force her into the fresh air and onto her feet.
Today was a little different, though. Today they had an audience, and Giles watched them fight with curiosity and pride.
Giles saw a look of absolute delight on Willow's face as she fought the Slayer. Willow swung her foot wildly at Buffy in a kick—but Buffy caught it: "Oh no you don't!" Buffy flipped the witch onto her back.
"Oof," said Willow.
Buffy straddled her and Willow tried futilely to slap her away. Buffy pinned one of Willow's arms above her head.
"Any last words, Will?"
"Uh," said Willow, giggling in excitement but trying to feign fear, "Don't kill me?"
Buffy raised her free arm and pretended she was holding a stake. She was always filled with some anxiety at this point: even though Willow seemed to have overcome whatever had set her off during their first fight, Buffy still found that her mind flashed to Willow's black eyes, her shove sending the Slayer across the yard, and her anger sending a knife at her sister.
But she knew the fear was largely stale now, and she trusted her friend, so Buffy plunged the invisible stake into Willow's heart.
"Poof!" said Willow, laughing, "Oh, I'm dust now!"
Buffy felt her anxiety cease and she climbed off her friend.
"You may have beat me this time, Slayer," said Willow, standing slowly, "And the time before that. And the time before that. And also the time before that. But next time, Summers, you'll face the wrath of— Whoa!"
The Slayer kicked Willow in the shins so that she fell over into the grass.
"Hey! I call foul!"
Buffy pulled her up, "You gotta pay attention, even during the evil speech. That's how I get 'em. You don't see me getting bit while making my puns, do ya?"
"Giles," Willow whined, "Buffy's changing the rules!"
"I'm very impressed," said Giles, "With both of you. Willow, you've improved… more than I thought you could."
"Trying not to be offended," said Willow. "Buffy's a… Buffy's a good teacher." She smiled at her friend, "And really, really patient. More than I deserve."
"I can tell," said Giles, "You looked like you were… enjoying yourself."
"I—!" Willow blushed in embarrassment. She'd made a pretty big show of hating every second of this in England. "Yeah. I guess I was."
"I'm glad," said Giles, "Buffy, thank you for training her."
"No, it's great!" said Buffy, "Without you around, it's been nice to have someone… I mean, Xander always says he'll train with me but he's always got an excuse 'cause he's scared I'll beat him to a bloody pulp and/or emasculate him. Having Willow around has been kinda a blast."
"I'm gonna take a shower or four," said Willow, covered in sweat as they opened the door back into the house.
"Mind if I join?" said a voice from inside, and they all stared a little dumbfounded when they saw who it belonged to.
"Faith?" said Buffy.
"Hey, B."
The group shuffled inside, and Buffy reached for a stake, but she didn't have one. Willow looked around and handed her the TV remote, which Buffy held threateningly. Willow herself got into a battle-ready position, prepared to cast.
"What're you gonna do?" said Faith, nodding at Buffy, "Change the channel?"
Buffy looked down at what she was holding, "Really, Will?"
"It was all I could find!"
Buffy tossed it aside and made two fists. She narrowed her eyes at Faith, "How'd you get in here?"
"Lock was broken," Faith shrugged, "You should really get that checked out, in a town like Sunnydale."
"Oh, I think that was me," said Willow, "Sorry."
"Okay, another major, major question," said Buffy, "Aren't you… in jail?"
Faith grinned, "Let's say, early release for good behavior."
"'Good behavior'?" said Willow, "Buffy, you know what that means, right? She escaped!"
"So you escaped prison," said Buffy, "And came directly to… my house?"
"You need my help, don'tcha?" said Faith.
"Buff, what's that mean?" said Willow, "I didn't think we need her help. Do we need her help?"
"I, uh," said Buffy, "When the tremors first started and we started getting extra demons here, I visited the prison and chatted with Faith a little. You know, just to see what the sitch is over there, if she was getting out soon or…" she sighed, "I didn't think she'd… escape and come here."
"Have you met her?" said Willow, "Escaping prison is the least surprising thing Faith could do. She's Faith."
"Chill out, Red," said Faith, "I'm reformed. Helped B's ex with some stuff out in LA. I'm all on the side of good now. Black hat painted white, promise." She paused, regarded the other two women, "You two working up a sweat together? With Watcher-man doing his Watcher thing? Hot."
Willow rolled her eyes, "Faith, take your inappropriate sexual comedy somewhere else."
"Be nice, Will," said Buffy, "I think we can for real trust this her time."
Willow gaped at her, "Based on what, exactly?"
"Based on her being here, telling us to trust her." Buffy shrugged, "I mean, showing up without a weapon and being all friendly-like? It's not her style. If she wanted us dead she'd have attacked us by now and we'd have probably put her back in a coma."
"I don't like it," said Willow, "Not even a little."
"Will," said Buffy, dragging her friend by the arm to the stairs. She lowered her voice, "Hey, remember when you went all world-endy? Faith's had even longer than you to get better. This Hellmouth thing is getting worse and worse, and I'm spread pretty thin. If she's down to help slay, could you at least give her a chance?"
Willow sighed. She still felt funny about the whole thing, but she didn't really have an argument. Buffy was right, as she quite often seemed to be. "Fine," said Willow, "But don't think I won't be watching her."
"Counting on it," said Buffy. "If she tries to screw us, we can take her no problem. Better to have her working with us than against us."
Willow pouted with a nod, and the women returned to the living room, where Giles and Faith seemed to stare each other down like they were in a western. Faith jolted in her seat, threw her hands out as if to startle him. Giles jumped, and Faith laughed.
"Uh, erm," Giles collected himself, adjusting the collar on his shirt, "As fascinating as this development is, I really must be going. I have some volumes at my home I believe may help us with the Hellmouth issue."
"Hey, what's the sitch with Anya?" asked Willow, "You, uh, kicking her out?"
"Well," said Giles, "I can't say I wasn't surprised to find her underthings in my bed upon my return, but we did share a store together and I think we can get by sharing a home, until she's back on her feet. She's staying in the guest bedroom."
Willow smiled, "That's good."
"Speaking of," said Buffy, "Faith, I'm guessing you'll need a place to stay. And I'm guessing my couch was on the top of your list…"
"Well, I dunno if that motel will let me back," said Faith, "Kinda stopped paying rent when you put me in a coma."
"You can stay here," said Buffy. She stepped towards Faith, "But you do anything remotely suspicious, if you touch a hair on my sister's head…—"
"What? You'll kill me?" Faith clicked her tongue, "You tried that, remember?"
"Oh," said Buffy, "I'm not gonna kill you." She smirked, walked away, "Willow will."
Willow froze, "I will?"
Faith glanced at Willow and stifled a laugh, "What's she gonna do, float a pencil at me?"
"You don't want to mess with Willow, Faith," said Buffy, heading up the stairs, "Trust me."
Willow smiled sheepishly, "Uh-huh."
"Little Red becomes the Big Bad Wolf," said Faith, "I like it."
Willow didn't like the look Faith was giving her, so she went upstairs too, "I'll be in the shower." She glanced at Faith, "Not that you need to… know that."
Willow felt a little overwhelmed with the return of Faith. She absolutely despised the woman… but she couldn't quite decide why. Was it that Faith had been evil, kidnapped her? But Willow had been evil, and done much worse to her friends. Was it that she'd bullied Tara? Hadn't Willow done worse to her, too? She rested her head against the wall of the shower and sighed in frustration, too-hot water burning her skin. She supposed she didn't much have the right to despise anyone but herself nowadays.
She stepped from the shower slowly, reluctantly, often did because it meant facing the world again. She drew a towel violently over her hair, drying it haphazardly, and then wrapped it around herself. She looked briefly in the foggy mirror, red hair darkened with dampness and slick against her head, messy layered strands poking wildly through the rest. She looked an awful lot like a person. She reached for the mirror, drew a little smiley face in the mist over her own face. It made her smile, a small reminder of her inherent childishness. So, surprisingly relaxed she made her way back into the adjoining bedroom with a contented sigh.
"Hey Red."
Willow froze, the illusion of her contentment shattered. Faith was laying on Willow's bed, hands behind her head.
Willow blushed and held the towel tighter around herself, "Faith! Get outta here!"
"Here I was, thinking we could catch up," said Faith, "Kid sister is watching Bravo and I can't stomach that reality TV crap. Since my bed is the couch I had to make an escape somewhere else."
"To my room," said Willow, "Makes sense. Not! And hey! Shoes off the bed, okay?"
"I don't see it as your room," said Faith, "Lemme guess. Still no job? Not paying rent?"
"Hey!" said Willow, "You were in jail . And, if you must know, I spent the summer in rehab so—"
"Rehab?" Faith laughed, "Will, you are just full of surprises. What was it? Heroin? I knew a dealer in prison so—"
"It wasn't heroin!" said Willow, "Buffy didn't tell you?"
"Crack, then," Faith clicked her tongue, "Or did you go crazy on the sauce or something?"
For some reason it annoyed Willow that Faith would believe that Willow was addicted to drugs. Willow would never touch the stuff, she told herself, apart from the marijuana and mushrooms that Tara had introduced her to, but which Willow wouldn't go near now that she was gone. But heroin? Cocaine? It was like some part of the recently-evil witch still saw herself as a goodie-two-shoes, and though she could threaten her friends and nearly destroy the Earth, shooting up would be the true ultimate evil. So, instead of allowing the Slayer to continue guessing substances she told her the truth: "It was magick, okay? I got addicted to power."
"Huh," said Faith, "Okay, I get it. Power's stronger than the hooch they had in jail. Which is why I shanked the girl who made it."
"Faith!" said Willow.
"Kidding! I didn't shank anyone," said Faith.
"I couldn't judge you if you did." Willow sighed, picking up a t-shirt and some sweatpants, "Hey, don't look."
Faith turned away, "You got nothing to worry about, Will. I can respect a gal's privacy." But she grinned, could see Willow changing in the reflection on her computer screen.
"Anyway," Willow sat on the bed once she'd finished, "Look, I guess you should know. I went bad last year. Really bad—Big Bad bad. I killed people; I tortured people; I tried to end the world."
Faith burst into laughter, "What? You tryna one up me? Here I thought working for Mayor Weirdo and running around in Buff's bod was the ultimate villain move. I'm impressed."
"Don't be," said Willow, "It was bad. I was bad."
"'K," Faith shrugged, "Hey, glad you aren't an alcoholic. Wanna beer?"
Willow frowned, confused, almost disappointed, "You don't seem to care about the whole being evil thing."
"Probably cuz I don't," said Faith, "Alright, you did bad. People make mistakes. I got better. You got better. Get over it. Here."
Faith pulled a six pack off the ground by the bed and handed a beer to Willow.
"You brought a six-pack to my room?"
"Well, kid sister wasn't gonna drink with me, so…" Faith opened a can herself and took a swig.
Willow stared at the can in her hand for a long while, feeling desperately normal. The way Faith spoke to her, it was like she had been forgiven for all her wrongdoings, like someone could finally understand. She looked up at Faith, and there wasn't a flicker of fear or anger or grief in her eye. "To getting better," said Willow. They clinked cans and Willow took a swig herself.
"Wait," said Willow, not long later but already on her third drink, "You threatened her with what?"
"With a pair of panties," said Faith, "Her panties. 'Cause she was giving trouble to one of the other girls. I promise, it was all heroic and stuff. People figured out pretty quick not to mess with Faith."
Willow laughed, hiccuping as she finished her drink. She felt utterly content, drunk on Faith's acceptance. And also alcohol. It wasn't often that the Scoobies drank themselves silly, what with Buffy's jaunt as a cavegirl and Willow's not-completely-sober Will Be Done spell. And now—well, now Willow was to be ever-vigilant, always alert, on edge, ready to reign in her powers. Buffy would tense up if Willow had a drink with dinner, and she could feel Dawn's anxiety, too, if Willow so much as slurred a word. And Willow didn't blame her, after what had happened the last time Willow was under the influence of something, not in her right mind. And the coven absolutely forbade Willow from drinking alcohol, though there were nights, once she'd regained control, that she'd drink whiskey with Giles as they shared their griefs. But, even drunk, Giles was very careful, cut her off early, always watching her for some sign that she was losing control.
But Faith… Faith didn't care! Willow laughed and reached for another beer, only to find none. She pouted, "Oh, I guess we gotta go downstairs and get some more…"
"Surprised you could keep up, Will," Faith clicked her tongue, "I dunno if you can make it downstairs, though."
"I dunno if I wanna…" Willow gazed up at Faith. At her eyes… and her lips.
Willow was so goddamned lonely, since it all happened. And right now she couldn't really hear those voices in her head; they were silenced behind drunkenness and alcohol-induced tinnitus (they really should have worn earplugs to the Bronze as kids).
The woman before her… Willow could do anything and she wouldn't judge. Faith didn't even know that she should be afraid! Right now, Willow could tell Faith she was going to kill everyone, or that she knew just how to end the world, or she could use her powers to destroy everything in the room and Faith would just laugh. No judgment: Willow could tell Faith, if she wanted to, how hard it was, how little control she really had. She could tell Faith how goddamned angry she was all the time, or she could crackle electricity before her, give her a fantastic lightshow that would scare her other friends. She could even…—
Before she could think, Willow was on top of Faith in a flash, kissing her furiously.
"Whoa, hey!" said Faith between smooches, "Wasn't my plan when I came up here, but I'll take it!"
Willow was filled with horrible guilt, like Tara could walk in, but she pushed it aside.
"Hey, we gotta shut the door," said Faith, "I think Buffy will slit my throat if kid sister sees this."
Willow didn't stop, just waved her hand and the door slammed itself shut.
So that became a routine too.
When Faith got home from patrol, she'd go directly to Willow's room. And when Willow got home from class, she'd give Faith this look and the Slayer would follow her upstairs. It became an obsession, an addiction. A distraction.
But what did she have to be distracted from? Sure, there was the impending apocalypse, but she had her friends and Giles and the most amazing sex she'd ever had in her—
—Oh right. As soon as it was over she always remembered: The Hellmouth. Her powers, and her lack of control. Tara. The rift that was still there between her and her friends. And Amy's words seemed to have parked themselves in the back of her mind, a constant dread that she'd give anything to ignore. Each time the Earth shook beneath her and another pit opened somewhere in Sunnydale, it seemed to get worse. The tremors were harsher, lasted longer, and Willow felt more lost in the darkness each time, found it harder to climb back out. It scared her unimaginably. What was happening to her?
"What happened to you?"
Willow was shocked from her thoughts as she sat across from Buffy at breakfast. "Huh?"
"You're all bruised up," said Buffy. She frowned, "I didn't do that, did I?"
"No!" said Willow a little too fast. She looked down at her arms, covered in bruises that she hadn't noticed. She supposed Faith didn't have the same control that Buffy did. "It's not you. Faith 'n me were, um…" She stumbled on her forthcoming lie, watching Buffy for any sign of suspicion, "...training. You know how she gets… when she's… training."
Buffy didn't know about Willow and Faith, and Willow felt no inclination to tell her. And though the two were not particularly discrete, the idea was probably so radical to the good Slayer that it hadn't even occurred to her.
"You're training with Faith?" Buffy raised an eyebrow, "Wow. You're putting in double-time, maybe you really will beat me one of these days."
Willow laughed too loud.
"Hey," said Buffy, "Be careful with her. She's not the most… down to Earth person we know. She loses control, she could really hurt you."
"Same here," said Willow, "We're similar like that."
