Chapter Eighteen

"And this one right here?"

Faith almost trembled at the tender way Sam brushed his fingers across the wicked scar tissue on her lower back that she knew looked like a spider's webbing.

Jason's cottage tucked neatly away from the rest of Port Charles went through a few adjustments tonight after their return from the hospital. She hadn't been surprised at where Cordelia planned to sleep, which left her and Sam with some much appreciated alone time. When he knocked on her door, she had been preparing to go get him and drag him back to hers. The desire washing through her was halted for a moment as a smile spread across her face.

She knew Sam wanted her but she hadn't been sure if he wanted her enough to make the first move. That was the thing for her, being the Slayer too often made her the aggressor in sex. She initated, the man answered if he was interested. There hadn't been too many occasions when the guy wasn't interested. It was nice that Sam was willing to come for her, to pursue her. She should have known he would, hadn't she said from the very beginning Sam was different.

After shutting the door, well the rest passed in a blurr of mouths and sweat, hungry, so very hungry that she didn't know if she would ever be satisfied. Somehow they managed to strip free of their clothes and damn if she wasn't right about his body. Lean, chisled with muscle, and unrelenting. Behind those quiet eyes was a man who knew exactly what he wanted and would do anything to get it. And evidently Sam wanted her limp, breathless and practically begging.

That first orgasm had slapped her down hard, those skilled hands delving between her legs as he nibbled kisses along her throat. Forced her to bite her lip to hold back the scream of pleasure that wanted to burst free. Then he built her up again, swell upon swell, until his mouth closed over her clit and she gripped the bed in despearation and shattered.

The arrogant smile on his face afterwards, so unlike that normal shy Sam smile made her hunger for retribution. Having him quiver beneath her touch, feeling those sinewy muscles stretch and pull beneath her finger tips and those long fingers tighten in her hair and groan with pleasure as she sucked his heavy cock into his mouth was all the recompense she needed.

When he finally took her, it was wild and free and beyond anything she had ever experienced.

The second time, so slow, gentle and beautiful, broke her heart because she knew that falling in love with a man like Sam Winchester wasn't in the cards for a woman like her.

"Demon acid," she smiled answering his question finally and turned her head so that she could stare at his face. If she could capture this moment, every nuance of this moment, the two of them lounging in bed, hair mussed, heedless of their nudity while they simply enjoyed being together, she would be fine for the rest of her life.

The soft lamp was on behind him, just a dim glow on his face with his usual smile that made her stomach feel like jello. Daylight was gradually lighting the room and she knew she should probably get some sleep but the last thing she wanted was to close her eyes.

"I can't remember the demon," she shrugged, it made no difference. Just one more scar on her body to join the numerous others. It was a fact of her life. Just like the ones received tonight. The one on her shoulder would be tender for a while, but she'd survive, work through the kinks. It's what she always did. "Happened about a year ago."

"You sound like it's no big deal," he said carefully, those dreamy eyes filled with concern now. "That because you're the Slayer, these scars are just apart of the territory."

"They are," she told him with a lift of her shoulder. "Sometimes they get in a few swipes before I managed to kill them."

He brushed fingers across her neck, and a small part of her shivered cold in response. Her first scars. The oldest. "And these are what I think they are?"

"My first kill," she nodded, "I wasn't watching my back and instead of the two vamps I thought, there were three." She didn't like talking about it. "He got behind me, managed to get in a taste before I staked him. It's nothing."

What he did next, made her throat tighten with emotion. "It's something to me," he murmured as he leaned down and brushed a kiss over the old wound.

Terrified at the feelings pounding into her heart, Faith moved away, needing some distance so she could breathe. It was too hard and too fast, she scrambled to recover as she scrubbed her fingers through her hair. Only to discover they were trembling. She thought she had been prepared for this, for how he made her feel, but now she realized just how stupid that confidence had been.

"Don't worry about it," she frowned, looking around the room at their discarded clothes scattered everywhere.

"Faith, what's wrong?"

"Nothing," she shot back quickly, trying not to flinch at the harsh sound of her voice. Instead she found her t-shirt and shoved it down over her head and began searching for her jogging pants. Before she could grab them, Sam was up, taking her hand into his.

"It sounds like something to me. First we were laying there and I felt closer to you than to anyone I've ever felt in a long time. Closer than I could allow myself to risk being." He stared at her with imploring eyes, "And now it's like there are miles between us. Tell me what's wrong."

"Nothings wrong," she tried to tug her hand away but he just held on.

"What happened in those few seconds that pushed you away from me?"

"Sam, please don't do this." Because she found she couldn't lie to him, couldn't find the same cold hard words she normally used if someone came too close and she needed to protect herself. Sam would smash past all of her walls and when he realized just the type of person she was, he would walk and that would kill her. "Just let it go, chalk it up to the stress of tonight."

Instead she tried a different tactic, a smile, but he saw straight through it. "Faith, talk to me. Please."

"You don't know what you're asking me," she silently pleaded for him to let it go.

"You know, you're a lot like Dean in some ways." He nodded, "Lots of walls and I get that. You don't do the kinds of things we do and not put up some barriers to protect yourself. When something gets too close to Dean, he shoves it away, does whatever neccessary to forget it."

When he pulled on her arm, she like a fool went, took the small steps he asked and he closed his arms around her so that he could gaze down into her eyes. "Tell me."

"I'm a murderer."

Those weren't exactly the words Sam was expecting and given the way Faith's eyes widened in shock, she hadn't planned to say them. When she jerked away, he allowed her to go because her eyes had taken on that edge of fear that most get when backed too far into a corner. Instead he sat down on the edge of the bed and watched her pace the small bedroom, wishing she would let him comfort her but knowing she needed the space.

"Look at your face," she bit out, "I bet you wish you hadn't asked now."

"Just tell me, why do you think you're a murderer."

"Because I am," she almost shouted. "I'm surprised you don't know. I'm the Slayer that went bad." Seeing his absolute cluelessness she gave a short bark of laughter and flopped down onto a high backed chair as far away from him as she could managed.

He didn't know if she realized it or not, but her arms wrapped around her stomach, self comfort, he'd seen it all too often. And in the silence, he watched her eyes fade a bit, knowing she was drifting back into her memories. What could she possibly say that he would judge? Given everything he had been through, the things he had done, who was he to stand in judgement of her?

"I grew up in a shithole with a lousy mother who could give a fuck about me and a father whose name I don't even know. I spent most of my time on the streets being a bad ass and getting into trouble or avoiding my mother who would rather backhand me into a corner or ignore me. Either was just fine with her."

She glanced at him with a bitter smile, not wanting his sympathy, so he didn't offer it because Faith was strong, but not strong enough to accept that someone could feel for the child she had been who deserved better.

"I don't know if you know this, but Slayers are activated when the other dies."

"No," he shook his head, it was horrible, "I didn't know that."

"So when I realized what I was, I thought, hey, maybe that's the reason why I had to suffer like that, so I'd be strong enough to deal with killing vampires and demons. I figured all Slayers had shitty lives, you know."

"Yeah." Except he knew that life didn't quite work like that. Look at Dean, their lives had been damned near perfect before their mother was murdered. Loving husband and wife, pretty house, two kids. Then bam, evil comes in and destroys everything. That's how they had been dragged into hunting.

"Anyway, there's like this governing body for Slayers, called a Watcher's Council. It's like they have a list of all potential Slayers, so when my number was called, I got my very own Watcher. First person I thought who ever cared about me." She snorted and wiped a hand across her face. "I just happen to get the one evil Watcher out for personal gain. I find that quite ironic."

"What happened to her?"

"She bit the dust. Long story, doesn't really matter. Anyway, I'm in Sunnydale, California. The Hellmouth. Ready for duty, only, stupid Faith, there's already a Slayer in residence. Ms. Buffy Summers."

"I thought Chosen One meant only one?"

"Well, seems Buffy managed to cheat death once. So now there's always two Slayers." Again with the shoulder, as if it didn't matter, when he knew it did. Whatever was between her and this Buffy person had hurt her. "So, it's like Buffy was there to shine a light on everything that was wrong with me. She had a mother who adored her, a Watcher who loved her. The Scoobies."

"Scoobies-" he interrupted.

"Willow and Xander her best friends. Helped with patrolling, watched her back, gave her a piece of the normal she so desperately wanted. Even this guy named Oz who Willow dated and Cordelia. Though her and Buffy kinda hated each other. And for the bonus prize, she has the perfect boyfriend. Angel. Broody, haunted vampire with a Soul that hung on her every word and followed her around back then like a puppy."

"I thought Angel and Cordelia?"

"Another long story, but yeah they were." She drew in a deep breath. "So, I'm jealous. I mean, really bad. So jealous sometimes I couldn't see straight. And I tried the friends thing. For awhile it worked. I was her complete opposite in every way. The dark to her light. And always pushing her boundaries."

"If Buffy was everything you claimed she was, then she should have welcomed the help. Welcomed having someone to help fight, someone who understood exactly what she was going through." This Buffy person didn't sound as good and perfect as she seemed to be in Faith's head.

"One night while we were patrolling, big fight in an alley and we're staking vamps. Well, somehow a human got mixed into the bunch. And everything just went to hell from there. To make a long story short, I caused a lot of damage, fought on the wrong team for a while. Tortured some people, killed a few more. Did a short stint in a coma. I even tried to kill Angel," she finished with a snort. "And he's the one person who could see through, that I was slowly dying inside. That all I wanted was to be put out of my misery once and for all."

"Faith-"

"I couldn't take anymore Sam," she whispered. "I knew I had screwed up. Screwed up so badly that there was no way to make amends for it, I just wanted it to end and I knew Angel was the only one strong enough to put me down. So I went after him."

A lone tear slipped free unawares to her, slid slowly down her cheek and he rose then. There was no way she was going to keep him away now. All those years, only one person had seen what he had. He kneeled down before her, taking her hands into his, waited for her to continue. Would be there for her when she did. "After torturing one of his best friends, and trying to stake him, I begged him to kill me."

And all Sam could think of was how he had done the same to Dean too many times to count. Hearing the words from her, made him realize just how much of an asshole he'd been to ask that of his brother. Where he had only fear of what he could become guiding his actions, Faith had the guilt of what she had become that drove her to such desperation.

"Obviously he didn't."

"I'm glad."

She looked into his eyes then, glossy with tears and emotion as she shook her head. "Why?"

"Because, I never would have met you otherwise."

"You say that like it's a good thing." He cupped her face then, and she shook her head, "I'm better now. Not suicidal or anything. I have my family now, Cordy, Fred and Spike. Wesley and Gunn back in LA. I don't fight hoping some demon will kill me. Me and Angel talked, talked about a lot of stuff. And he would have helped but I realized that if I was going to start making amends, I needed to confront what I'd done. So I went to prison."

"Damn it, prison? Couldn't that Watcher's Council have done something?"

"They wanted me dead, so yeah, I guess they could have."

"What kind of monsters are they?"

"I'm a living weapon Sam. Stronger than normal humans, better senses, I was trained to kill. What else could they do if their weapon was malfunctioning?"

"You're a woman," he insisted. "Not just some weapon. They should have helped you."

"Well, Angel and prison helped more than any Council ever could." She sniffed, "So you see, I'm not really someone a guy like you should get involved with."

"I killed a woman I was falling in love with."

Faith rolled her eyes, and snorted in disbelief, "Yeah, right. You don't have to make up stories to make me feel better Sam."

"She was a werewolf." He didn't speak of her often, couldn't, because everytime he did, he had to remember. And he hated remembering. It was one of the tortures the Demon had used to try to break him, making him mentally relive that moment over and over. The scents and sounds, that horrible dread clutching in his gut and making him sweat, so vivid and strong, it was like it was truly happening.

Him walking back into her livingroom. Lifting the gun that had felt so heavy in his hand. How he had forced himself to look into her eyes and pull the trigger.

"Was she out of control or something?"

"Yeah, she had already killed a few people. We tried to help her but it didn't work." He murmured, remembering how wrong they had been. "So if you're a murderer because of an accident, then what does that make me, when I killed her. I put a bullet in her head on purpose."

"But you felt remorse afterwards Sam." He felt one of her hands brush over his hair, "You didn't turn into the very things you and Dean hunt."

"I could have," he told her, putting the truth there in his eyes for her to see, because she deserved to hear how close he had come to betraying everything his brother had fought so hard for. He told her about the Demon killing his mother, how it was gathering psychics just like him for some kind of spiritual war. How it had almost killed his brother. "I almost did. If it weren't for Dean, I probably wouldn't be here right now."

"Then I'm glad you had Dean," she told him, leaned down to brush a kiss over his mouth, "I'm glad you're here right now. With me."

"Please, don't push me away Faith," he whispered and stood, pulling her into his arms once again. A tremor rushed through her body as she wrapped her arms around his neck and held on tight. "Let me in. I won't hurt you. I would never hurt you."

XX

He never needed much sleep, so Jason wasn't surprised to find himself awake a little after ten. His senses roused first, reminding him of the sensual curves curled next to him. A slow deep breath dragged her scent into his lungs, which his body eagerly responded to. He allowed himself the pleasure of the feel of her warm skin on his before carefully opening his eyes. She left him speechless, amazed that one woman could be so absolutely beautiful even in her sleep.

When he brushed a kiss over her mouth, she smiled, murmuring incoherantly and snuggling closer. As much as he would have liked to stay, he knew she needed to rest even if he didn't and it wouldn't have been fair to pull her from whatever dreams she might be having. Though he would have guarnteed, she would have enjoyed it.

So he slipped free, smiling as she buried deeper beneath his covers, and went to the bathroom. By the time he made it down to the front lawn after putting on a pot of coffee, he was feeling downright happy.

"I thought I would be the only one up at this ridiculous hour."

He said nothing, just slid over to make room for Faith. He had known she was there and judging from the two scents she was giving off, he knew exactly who she had just left. Damned if he wasn't going to have to find a way to filter. There were somethings that he didn't want to know and privacy that deserved to be respected.

"I don't need much sleep," he told her, then looked down at her. Though a little pale, and obviously battle weary, she too looked happy.

"Me either," she glanced up, then smirked with a gleeful mischief, "Cordy still sleep?"

Two could play that game, "She was tired, I'm sure Sam could use a few more hours."

"Yeah," then she snorted with laughter, "I wore that boy out." Seeing his grimace only mader her laugh louder, then lean against his arm. "Oh, Jason. You should see your face. That was just priceless."

"Funny," he grunted, refusing to give in to the urge to join her mirth and failing miserably. They sat in silence for a while, just enjoying the cold brisk air and the morning unfolding around them.

"We should do something today," she said out of no where. "I mean, it's cold as hell and we have Spike, so no direct sunlight, but we need a break."

"We should be preparing," but he didn't really sound convincing. It had been a very intense night. He already intended for Kady to relax but maybe they all needed a moment to regroup. "So what did you have in mind?"

"Your town," she responded with a wave of her hand, "What is there to do?"

"Nothing," he answered quickly. "At least nothing I remember. In case you haven't noticed I'm exactly the socialable type."

"I don't think any of us are." Faith answered. "We're always researching and training, fighting and killing demons. Back in LA we have some quiet time every so often. I think we need that here. Miranda has her son back. I know Cordelia wants to spend sometime with Connor." She released a deep sigh, "I know evil is out there regrouping, getting ready to come at us with everything it has but if we're worn out, what kind of fight can we put up. How do we win, if it gets to the sticking point and we come up empty."

"Fresh perspective, might help with research," he agreed.

"So we wait until everyone is up, and decide then. Maybe tonight we go out to dinner, shake up your quiet burg a bit. Cordelia will want to find Connor some clothes," she grinned again, "You have no idea what you've gotten yourself into there."

"I don't mind," he told her, knowing it was true. As crazy as Cordelia made him, he was coming to realize that he needed to be around her. Needed her in his life. Needed her. She brought a light into his life that he had been lacking.

"Now I know you have it bad." They both turned at the sound from inside of the house that proved they weren't the only two awake. Faith's eyes were bright with mirth and just a bit sneaky. "Twenty dollars, that's Miranda getting ready to fix breakfast. Something big for Gabriel."

"Sucker's bet," he grunted.