See Part 1 for full disclaimers and story details

Author's Notes: Well, this is the penultimate chapter. I can't thank you all enough for your wonderful comments and encouragement throughout this fic. I've had a blast writing it and corresponding with each of you. Once again huge thanks go to Lynette. I'd left a huge, gaping hole in the plot and she picked it out in her usual no nonsense way. (vbg) You're awesome! As always, any and all feedback is appreciated.

Part 10

Friday evening's sunset hit in a burst of color, the sky above the mountains exploding with shades of orange, pink and blue. Faith watched the light display silently from her seat on the roof of the house, knees curled up against her chest. Never in her life had she imagined she could ever feel so content. The night before she'd held off sleep as long as she could, afraid the past week would disappear the moment she opened her eyes. But instead she'd woken to Jack's lips tickling their way up her neck, sending drowsy shivers down her spine.

Her eyes closed for a moment, her body sending a gentle wave of sensation through her gut as the memory of their early morning lovemaking flowed over her. It had been just as intense as Thursday night, but faster, more frantic. Apparently, there were variations to their life she was really going to enjoy learning. Although she'd had a brief moment of panic Friday morning when she realized they hadn't used any sort of protection either time. Her desire for Jack had overwhelmed her, causing a carelessness on her part she'd never imagined could exist in her life. She'd searched the bathroom for birth control pills and failing to find any, she'd carefully approached Jack with her concern. He hadn't laughed at her fears, simply assuring her it wasn't an issue since they'd both agreed long ago she would remain on the birth control shot.

Now, up on the roof, she hugged her knees a little closer. The idea of having children absolutely petrified her. And yet the idea of marriage, while not in quite the same manner, had also been foreign to her a week ago. Staring hard into the dying light, she forced the thoughts out of her head. If the time ever came, they'd discuss it, she and Jack, and decide what would be the best for them both. Of that, she had no doubts.

All too soon, the light display was over. Climbing to her feet, Faith headed back down the ladder and into the house. She checked the clock over the stove again, a frown furrowing her forehead. Jack was late. Later than the late he'd said he was going to be when he called a few hours ago. Had another situation popped up? One that was going to keep him overnight again? Glancing at the covered saucepan on the burner, she sighed. Thank God spaghetti sauce was easy to reheat. Her meager cooking skills weren't up to trying to save, or even make for that matter, anything more difficult. And she'd planned on cooking the pasta when he got home anyway.

The sound of tires crunching over the concrete of the driveway caught her ears, the distinctive diesel rumble of Jack's truck bringing a smile to her face. He was home. Feeling slightly self-conscious by her sudden onslaught of girliness, she flipped on the faucet to start filling the large pot waiting on the counter. By the time the door closed, she had it filled and sitting on the burner. She wiped her hands quickly and headed over to meet him.

Her welcoming smile vanished as soon as she saw him. "What's wrong?" He was pale, his face washed out against the green of his uniform.

He didn't answer, didn't even stop moving as he headed straight toward her. Strong arms that were usually rock steady shook as they wrapped around her back and held tight. Her lungs actually stopped working for a split second as alarms began ringing in her head. He buried his face into the crook of her neck, breathing deeply.

"Jack?" she asked, voice shaking. "Jack, what's wrong? Are you okay?" The arms she'd wrapped around him automatically drew him closer. His entire body was trembling and if she was totally honest with herself, it was freaking her out. Slayers, vampires, concussions and strange energy fields hadn't forced him to miss a stride. What could have upset him so badly? About to ask one more time, she froze when he spoke, not lifting his head, his voice strained and far too quiet.

"We lost two today."

She didn't need anything else as comprehension flooded her. Unconsciously, her hands rubbed over his back, long, slow soothing strokes. There was nothing she could say to make it better, but she had to try. "I'm so sorry." A shudder wracked his body at the words and all she could do was hold on as he quietly fell apart in her arms. She knew what it was like to lose people she'd worked with, people she'd grudgingly come to care for. Even Anya's death, as annoying as the vengeance demon had been, had marked a part of Faith's soul, another tally to add to the collection of losses in her life. Knowing how deeply Jack felt about his command and the people who worked for him, she ached for the man who'd had to conceal just how devastated he'd been while being strong for those under him.

When he finally stepped back, she had no idea how much time had passed. Jack had a little color back in his face, the tremors quieted to only a slight unsteadiness. He laid one hand over her cheek and brought up a smile that didn't quite make it onto his face. "I didn't think I'd ever get back here to you."

"Why didn't you call me?" she asked quietly, warmth filling her at his words.

"Just not the same thing."

Reaching up, she kissed the corner of his mouth. "The shoulders aren't very wide, but they're really strong if you want to talk." She hesitated for a second, a sudden doubt at the offer filling her. "If you can talk about it."

He gathered her back into his arms, his sigh more felt than heard. "Thanks. I think I'd like that."

The rest of the evening Faith said very little, merely listened as Jack talked about the two airmen that had been killed. He didn't go into details about how they they'd died or how in a research facility hundreds of feet below the Earth's surface they'd managed to get injured in the first place. Instead, he spoke of practical jokes played out on the entire facility so outrageous no one could credit the quiet young lieutenant with the gumption to pull off. He spoke of courage in the face of a senior officer who was in the wrong and didn't want to hear it from a mere captain. Personal stories and second- and third-hand anecdotes filled the time as Faith quietly heated the spaghetti and placed a plate in front of Jack who ate without seeming to realize what he was doing. Pleased he managed to finish at least a small portion of the food, she cleaned up while the words continued to pour out of him. She smiled and nodded and laughed as he talked, knowing the simple act of remembering the better times would help him more than anything she could ever say in return.

Later, after the dishes were cleared and the house was locked up tight, they lay cuddled together in the darkness of their room. Jack's voice had grown quieter as the evening had progressed, the initial shock of loss muting to a resigned acceptance. Gripping his hand in hers, she rested their entwined fingers on his chest above his heart. "Thank you for sharing them with me."

"Thank you for listening to me babble," he said, the soft words lacking any sting whatsoever. His lips pressed against her forehead for a long moment before he settled a little more firmly into the mattress. Soon, much sooner than she would have thought possible, his breathing eased into the steady rhythm of sleep, his heart beating comfortably under her hand.

So this was the married life. At least hers, anyway. Not perfect and there were still so many unanswered questions she had no intention of leaving forgotten. But she couldn't have dreamt up a more suitable mate for her unusual life. With a contented sigh, she allowed her eyes to close and drifted off to sleep.

And woke what seemed to be seconds later walking down a street at night.

Faith froze instantly, momentum and her muscles fighting for superiority. Looking around frantically, she took in the streetlight, the dark splatters on her clothes and the advertisements covering one window of a nearby shop. She was back in Cleveland, back to the last moment she remembered before waking in Jack's bed, their bed.

No. It wasn't possible. It hadn't been a dream. There was no way the last week, the most perfect, important week of her life, could have been a dream.

"No!"

The shout rang in her ears, echoing off the buildings on both sides of the street. She couldn't breathe, couldn't so much as twitch a single finger. Her heart crumpled in her chest, a gaping hole taking up residence in its place. What happened? How had she ended up back in Cleveland? Where was Jack?

She didn't realize she'd spoken aloud until a voice answered her from a few feet away. "I may be able to help you with that." Head twisting instinctively toward the voice, she blinked quickly, positive her eyes were playing tricks on her. Whistler hadn't shown himself in years and yet the obnoxious suit and dorky hat were undeniable. "It seems I'm the demon with all the answers."

Before thought even processed, Faith found herself gripping the demon's loudly colored lapels in both fists and shoving him up against the rough wall of the closest building. If the little toady was involved that meant the Powers That Be were involved up to their incorporeal necks. She had a thing against beings who claimed to be on the good side and yet never could be bothered to get their hands dirty in the fight.

Feet dangling off the ground, Whistler looked down at her with wide, rattled eyes. "No need to inflict damage," he choked out roughly, hands tapping carefully on her fists. "Let's just relax and be sociable. I'm here to explain everything."

She wasn't in the mood for sociable. She was in the mood to tear something to pieces. Her chest ached, throbbed with a pain she had no name for. She only knew it was an awful, choking feeling, one she'd never felt before. "Explain what? What the hell is this, huh? Just another way to screw with Faith's life? I haven't given the Powers enough of a laugh over the years? How dare you give me this perfect fairytale in a dream and then yank it out from under me just as I'm getting used to the idea of actually having a life!" The words exploded from deep inside, angry, scared and full of a towering loss. There was nothing he could possibly say to alleviate the anguish she felt.

"It wasn't a dream, Faith. Look at your arm."

Seething inside and out, she glared into the demon's eyes, his words not even registering in her brain. Not so idly, she wondered what would happen to her if she decided to carry out B's long ago threat.

"Look at your arm," he repeated slowly, barely making a dent in the haze clouding her mind. He pointed with one hand, eyes following the gesture.

She snarled at him wordlessly, fury digging further into every cell. He was beyond dead. He was completely. . . Telling the truth.

On her right arm was the healed cut Jack had noticed two days before. Sleeve pushed up by her raised arms, the laceration was a faint red mark, a tiny hint of yellow the only other sign of its presence, both of which she knew would be gone within another day. Her hands loosened, letting Whistler slide inelegantly down the wall. She took a small step back, still close enough to grab him again if she didn't like the answers he gave her. "It wasn't a dream?"

"No. You were really there."

"But I thought there was no way to send someone forward in time. Willow and Giles were sure of it."

"They don't have access to the information I do."

As an explanation, Whistler's words did little to clear her confusion. Faith's frown tugged her eyebrows tighter together, a headache already forming behind her eyes from all the dots that weren't connecting again. "I got this in the future." She gestured toward the wound absently. "But I'm back in my time now, right? How do I have a cut on my arm that won't happen for three years?"

"When you're dealing with the Powers I'd never use the word impossible."

She lunged forward, grasping his lapels again and getting right up in his face. "Quit playing around. Tell me straight with small words."

"What do you know about time paradoxes?" At her blank look, he nodded as if he'd expected her reaction. She tightened her grip slightly, bringing the collar even farther up his neck. Swallowing visibly, he glanced meaningfully down at her fists. She let him go with a light shove as a warning. "Classic time paradox: if a man goes back in time and kills his grandfather before his father is conceived, can he ever exist in the first place? The problems time travel can create are immense. That's one reason it takes so much power to even attempt it. Anyone messing with time has to have enough power to compensate for the inconsistencies that crop up."

"How does that explain the cut?" There was no way she was going to be able to wrap her brain around the snarled mess he'd just tossed out.

Whistler sighed, straightening his jacket. "The Powers knew you'd need some kind of proof that it had all been real. They took the injury from your future self and put it on you here, in this time. The power to compensate and all that."

"Okay, they left some evidence behind, like bread crumbs. That makes sense, I guess. But why now? Tell me that. The Sunnydale Hellmouth has been closed for two years. Why wait all this time to do something?" The hole in her chest fluttered slightly, hope struggling in vain to overcome the weight keeping it pressed down.

"Neither of you were ready." He picked up the stupid bowler hat, dusting it off carefully with one hand. "In its own way, Jack's life has been harder than yours. Right now, in this time, he doesn't believe in happily ever after. Neither did you."

"That still doesn't explain-"

"Stop pretending to be so dense and use your brain for once."

Her fist reached out and connected with his jaw without thought. She stared down at him sprawled on the concrete and couldn't drum up the willingness to feel the slightest bit guilty. She'd been dropped into a future she'd had no clue how to handle, yanked back out just as she was adjusting and now this little toady presumed to insult her.

"Enough with the violence already," he groaned as he climbed slowly to his feet, eyes watching her suspiciously as he picked the hat up once again. "Think about it, Faith. Would you ever have gone back to see him? Would you have given him a chance? To see if he could handle the truth?"

Her silence answered louder than words ever could. Hell, no, she wouldn't have gone to Colorado Springs. There had never been a reason to return. Until now. "So how did I end up in Colorado? What made me decide to go back?" The headache was beginning to throb through her entire head.

"Paradox. It doesn't matter anymore. Just like the man who goes back to kill his grandfather. You've already done it. That's all that's important."

Faith paced away a couple of small steps, squeezing the bridge of her nose in a vain attempt to help it all make sense. The action did nothing but increase the pressure behind her eyes. Dropping her hand, she stared across the short distance to the demon.

Whistler wasn't done yet. His voice dropped slightly, eyes softening in a way that told her she wasn't going to like what he had to say. "When Buffy didn't stay dead all those years ago, something got messed up. Something the Powers never could have foreseen." She wanted to look away, to escape his serious gaze, but she couldn't. He held her spellbound by his words alone. "Kendra wasn't the only one who was supposed to die. You weren't meant to survive either. Neither was your successor nor hers. Until the kid wasn't on this Earth any longer the new Slayer, the proper Slayer, would keep dying fast and hard until the balance was restored. So the Powers made a deal. You, for the future of the Slayer line."

It took her three tries to get the words to form, her pulse echoing through her chest. "Are you saying they used me as a bargaining chip? They gave away my life?"

"You catch on quick, kid. It's not every day a Slayer starts working for the bad guys, you know. They allowed it to happen." He paused for a moment, seeming to understand she was having trouble accepting his words. "But you weren't the only surprise for the Powers. Jack was supposed to be dead seven years ago. You two just don't know when to give in."

"What changed?" She ignored the reference to Jack's mortality for the moment, too filled with a trembling hope and shaky fear to do more than try to process what the demon was telling her. "The Powers didn't just decide to pay up for all the hell they put me through."

"Actually, they did. When the witch called all the potentials the Slayer line was secured for all time. The deal was off. Jack was the only way they could even try to make it up to you. And to him. But you guys are a lot more stubborn than they give you credit for. You ignored every tiny push, every subtle suggestion. They decided it was time for a drastic measure."

"They sent me three years into the future."

"Bingo. That way all the preliminaries were out of the way. Classic paradox."

"But I'm back here in my time. What kind of a messed up joke is that?"

"And just when are you supposed to come back into Jack's life?"

Mouth open to ask how the hell was she to know, the words stopped before air cleared her lungs. Three years. It had been there in front of her all along. Heart suddenly pounding a furious beat against her chest, she turned and ran without saying a word.

"I knew you'd figure it out. Enjoy your life, kid."

The quiet words followed her, pushed her even faster. Everything might not be lost after all.

TBC