//she's not the kind of girl
who likes to tell the world
about the way she feels about herself...//

I'm walking through the campus of Sunnydale University, on my way to find B, and I'm feeling strangely fine. It's not like I'm on top of the world or nothing, but lately things are looking up. I mean, I'm out of jail, that's definitely a good thing. And Buffy didn't kick my ass for coming back to Sunnydale, also good. And Giles isn't gonna get the tweeds from England involved which means one less group of people I have to worry about lynching me. Of course there's still the Scooby gang to worry about, Beefstick mostly.

But I'm hoping I can win them over... eventually. It may take some time, it's definitely gonna take some work. But I'm looking at it as a challenge - to prove to them that they can trust me. And I've never backed down from a challenge. People see that as weak, and I learnt young how to be strong.

{{Her mother, screaming, yelling. Faith trying not to cry - crying earns you extra beatings. Trying not to scream as the cigarette burns into her arm. One more scar that no one cares enough to question...}}

I'm halfway across campus when I see Red's girl, Tara, making her way to the school. There's a group of prep girls standing near her. One of them sees her coming and with a toss of her perfectly bleached blond hair she points her out to her mindless little friends. They all laugh and Tara carries on, head down.

Blondie calls out to her. "Hey Tara! Off to see your geeky little *girlfriend*?"

She ignores them and keeps walking and I'm kinda pissed. Never did like preps, always actin' like they're the centre of the fucking universe and ten times better than anyone else. I used to beat up a lot of preps. I pick up my pace 'til I'm beside Tara.

"Hey there."

She looks a little startled to see me. "Um... H-hi."

Valley girl has a falsely sweet smile on her face that my fist is itching to wipe off. "And who's this? Another one of your dikey little friends?"

Okay, if you can't beat them to a pulp, fuck with their heads. I turn to her with my cockiest grin and raise an eyebrow.

"Talkin' to me?"

"I don't see any other desperately-in-need-of-a-makeover fashion victims here."

"Aw..." I walk to her little group slowly, exuding the same kinda charm that makes guys drool and I stop just short of invading her personal space. She's kind of thrown off balance when I reach out and brush a strand of bottle blonde hair back from her face. "Just coz you can't have me, don't mean you gotta be bitter about it."

I take a step closer, dropping my voice to that husky, low register that it takes most other people three packs of cigarettes and a whole lotta booze to achieve. I look at her like I'm sizing her up, and I'm loving the mixture of fear and confusion in her eyes. Then I shake my head and step back. "Nah. Sorry girlfriend, but you're just not my type."

Blowing her a kiss, I turn and walk back to Tara and I know I'm grinning like a fucking cat but hey - It's fun being a bitch. The preps have shut up now and I'm guessing it'll be a while before Blondie's making any smart remarks again. Not to me anyway.

Tara's smiling and trying not to as we start walking again.

"Thanks." she says.

"No worries. Something about her I don't like."

"The fact that she's a b-bitch?" she suggests and I laugh.

"That could be it."

We're nearly at the main building now and B and Red come walking out the door. They see me and Tara, and for a minute I seriously think Red is gonna have a coronary. She shoots daggers at me as they come over.

"Hey guys." B says, giving Willow a warning look. I'm guessing she's told Red to be on her best behaviour.

"Hey." I return. "We gonna train?"

"Yeah," B replies, "The college has a pretty good quality gym and it's always empty right about now. I'll see you later Will, Tara."

"Later." I say to the other two. Tara nods at me and Red is still trying to give me the evil eye. Actually, she's into that whole Wicca gig, maybe she *is* giving me the evil eye. Ah well, not like I don't have a fair share of the forces of darkness in my life anyway. I'd be hard pressed to notice the difference.

*<>*<>*<>*<>*

The college gym is pretty cool. They have good equipment and an open area in the middle with crash mats that'll be perfect for hand to hand. Which I really need to work on again. I was able to keep my weight training up in the California State Pen. but it was kinda hard finding anyone to spar with. I mean, that's probably coz the first and only person that tried to pick a fight with me caught me on a bad day and ended up with a couple of broken ribs... and a couple of broken arms. So now I guess I'm gonna have to get back into shape.

After a quick warm up we square off on the mats.

"You ready?" B asks.

"Always."

"Well, I'll go easy on you." she taunts with a small smile.

"Okay. I won't."

And we start. I've missed this too, the training, the sparring. The being this close to B when she's in shorts and a sports bra getting all worked up and-

Focus!

I realise I'd better pay attention as a wicked right cross nearly takes my head off. After a lengthy exchange of blows we back off from each other a little, regaining our breath, planning our next moves.

We fall into the old training pattern pretty easily, punch, block, kick, duck, sweep, jump. And we carry on with that for a while. Eventually B backs up a little.

"Had enough already, B?" I grin, knowing she's just getting started.

"What say we take it up a notch, F?" she grins back. Well bring it on!

Faster now, and a little harder. Still pulling our punches, but only just. If we were sparring with anyone other than a Slayer they'd be in some very serious pain by now. But I know her moves, her style, and she knows mine. And we're pretty evenly matched. She's stronger than me, and a little quicker, but I have the height and weight advantage and I can read her movements well.

She swings at me and I duck, grabbing her by the shoulder to try and throw her down, but she grabs my arm and takes me with her. I'm caught off guard and the next thing I know she has me pinned. I mean *really* pinned, and the memories this position brings crash down on me and an all-consuming panic comes over me. I try to fight her off, try to free my hands, try anything, but she's too strong...

{{Too strong. Lying on top of her, pinning her down. Her two small wrists held in one of his hands.

"You're a little whore, just like your mother."

Refusing to cry, refusing to give him the satisfaction of hearing her scream. Shuddering at his voice, gruff and raw as he whispers in her ear. Choking on the smell of alcohol, the smell of his arousal, the smell of him...

Trying, desperately, to push him off. Too weak... too small... helpless}}

*<>*<>*<>*<>*

"Faith. Faith!"

I try to calm her down, half afraid she'll hit out if I let go of her wrists. I'm close to panicking myself as she fights like she's possessed under me. Quickly I let go and back up out of her reach before she can decide to try and pummel me. Something is seriously not right here.

"Faith... are you okay?"

She looks at me and her thoughts are a million miles away. And wherever they are isn't particularly pleasant. Then she shakes it off and gives me a weak version of her trademark grin.

"Five by five. Sorry bout that, B. You caught me off guard is all."

Okay, Faith as a rule - not the most stable person, but the way she reacted was out of line, even for her. When I pinned her she was scared. No, not just scared, *terrified*. And I don't think it was of me, either.

Before I can say anything else the bell goes and she picks herself up.

"Guess you'd better get back to class, huh?"

She looks okay, and I'm briefly tempted to shower, change and do just that, but in a brief moment of sanity I realise that I can't let her keep pulling away. That's what happened last time and look where it got us.

"Faith." I force her to make eye contact with me. "What was that about?"

"Nothin', B, I told ya. Caught me by surprise." Her reply is classic Faith, all bravado and nonchalance. But she's not untouchable, and I saw that look in her eyes, the scared look, that vulnerability she tries so hard to conceal.

"No." I reach out a hand to stop her as she packs her bag. "I'm calling your bluff. Faith... talk to me."

She stops and looks at me, and for a second, just a second, there's a crack in her facade. Then the door to the gym opens and Coach Fuller walks in.

In an instant the walls are back up and she turns away from me, throwing her gear into the bag.

"Summers, we got a class in here in five. Hurry it up." Coach says and leaves

He will never know how close he came to having me tear him limb from limb in that instant. I was so close and he... *urrrgh*

"I'll catch you later, B." Faith mutters as she brushes past me and makes her way out.

I'm left standing in the middle of an empty gym with the feeling that something really important just slipped through my grasp.

Damn.

*<>*<>*<>*<>*

Giles seems encouraged when I tell him what happened. I know he's probably the least hostile towards Faith out of the rest of the gang, not counting Tara and Anya, but then they never really got to see the more... psychotic side of her nature. And I'm almost hopeful at how badly he wants to think that she's... saveable, I suppose, for lack of a better word.

"So you think she might have opened up to you if not for that untimely intrusion?"

I think about that for a minute. I definitely saw something, an openness to her that I haven't seen before. But with Faith it seems like every time I think I've made a breakthrough her defences redouble. One step forward, three steps back.

"It's hard to tell. But I think she might have. And that's something right? I mean, even a "might-have" is better than nothing."

He nods thoughtfully. "Buffy... Do you want to help Faith?"

The question catches me off guard. "Of course I do."

"Why?"

I'm struggling for an answer in a conversation that suddenly seems to have run away from me. He continues.

"I understand that you feel a responsibility for her. As a Watcher I know how that feels. But the things she did to you hurt very deeply Buffy. And I think before you can help her... you have to put those issues to rest."

Much as I don't want to agree with what he's saying, I do. "You think I should have it out with her?"

"I think that if you don't do it now... it will all come out later. And that may have dire consequences."

He's right. If we just go on like this until the past comes back to smack us upside the head, it could drive Faith further away. On the other hand, I doubt she'll be very eager to talk it out now, and if I push her too far... what then?

"I realise this is a delicate situation, and one you'll have to tread carefully but... but I think you have a real chance here Buffy, to reach out to her, to get through to her. What's more I think it may be a chance for you to lay some demons of your own to rest."

"I don't know Giles, I... Some part of me wants to just walk away, y'know. Wash my hands of it all. But another huge part of me knows that what Faith was... what she did, that could have been me. A few different circumstances in my life and I don't know if I could have dealt with what she had to go through. If I hadn't had you guys..."

Dear God, if I hadn't have had the support I did over the last few years I would have gone crazy by now. Maybe the Faith kind of crazy at that.

"And Faith had no-one... Even when I tried to reach out to her, it was like she didn't know how to handle having someone care, she just pushed me further away... How do I know she'll let me in this time?"

"You don't." he says "But I think she's ready now... to let someone help her. And I think you're ready... to try."

*<>*<>*<>*<>*

I can't believe that happened.

I'm sitting in my motel room, bottle of vodka on the dresser beside the bed. I had thought about drinking until I couldn't think or feel. That'd be nice. Unfortunately with the amount of alcohol I have in stock and the rate the Slayer metabolism works it off, my one bottle of Absolut will barely give me a buzz. It's not worth it.

So instead I'm watching tv. Or staring at the screen at least. My mind's alternating between the gym earlier today and my small, dark bedroom ten years ago.

I was terrified. I haven't thought about him in so long. And I don't want to think about him now but I can't stop. It's like someone opened a door in my head and they've got their foot stuck there to stop me from closing it. I hate how he can still make me feel this way. Powerless, helpless.

I'm not helpless damnit! I'm the Slayer. I'm strong, I'm fast, I'm unbeatable... I'm an eight year old kid who's stepfather is stronger than her. And a part of me is always going to be that kid, always. Forever lying in the dark, scared and trembling. Always listening, waiting... waiting to hear the creak of the step, seventh from the bottom, that means someone's on the stairs... waiting for the snick of the door handle that means he's in my room... waiting for the feel of the bed depressing...

{{"that's my Faithy."}}

waiting for his voice in my ear...

{{"be a good girl, now. y'hear.}}

waiting for his hands on my body...

{{"whore..."}}

Fuck! I am not going to remember this! I'm not. Think about something else... anything else. Maybe that vodka isn't such a bad idea.

The first time he took me. The fear and confusion. He told me I was pretty, that I had a beautiful face. Then he started touching me and I froze... The feeling of something being so wrong and so good at the same time.

Screw this! I'm draining the last of the vodka now and it's making no difference.

{{"you're a good girl Faithy."

His hands under the covers, and now it's not feeling good at all, but completely wrong. He's hurting her and when she tries to cry out he clamps a hand down over her mouth.

"No, shut up! Shut the fuck up, you little whore!"

Pulling down her shorts and then rolling on top of her, driving into her hard. The burning, searing pain as he rips and tears into her, over and over.

She's crying and struggling. Suffocating under his weight, begging him to stop. But he's bigger and stronger and he has her pinned down and she can't move. And just when she's in danger of seriously running out of air, it's over and he pulls out. He gets off the bed and pulls his pants up and he looks down to where she's curled in a ball, whimpering quietly in pain, fear and confusion as the blood soaks into the sheets.

"Dirty little whore, just like your mother."

And he walks out, leaving Faith alone in the dark to cry herself to sleep.}}

*<>*<>*<>*<>*

There's a knock at the door and I'm really not in the mood for this. It's B, I know - not like I'm Miss Popular, who else is it going to be? Fuck... I don't want to talk to her right now. Bad enough she had to see me freak out on her earlier now I'm sitting here drinking in my motel room in the middle of the day. Great impression I'm making on my "Big Return" ain't it?

She knocks again.

"Faith? It's me... Buffy."

Well I suppose it's not like I'd be able to get rid of her if I wanted to. "Come in."

She walks in and takes in the empty bottle in my hand.

"You've been drinking?"

"I've been thinking."

She sits on the bed beside me.

"About what?"

Can I do this? Can I open up to her? I thought I could... once. After that whole thing with Gwendolyn Post, and B came to see me.

//"I know this may sound funny coming from someone who spent a lot of time kicking your face but... you can trust me. I'm on your side."//

She was walking out and I thought 'hold on a minute. she means that.'

//"Buffy?"//

For the first time in a long time I had someone who'd stand by me.

//"Yeah?"//

Or would she? People who seemed to care about me always seem to have a nasty habit of either walking out on me, screwing me over, or winding up dead.

//"Nothing."//

So what about now? Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe it's because I'm so damn tired of fighting, of trying to keep a hold of everything inside of me and being scared when it gets out of control. Maybe it's the fact that even after everything we've been through, everything I've done to her, she's sitting here in my room trying to reach out to me and for once I'm going to be smart and not take her willingness to help for granted.

"A lotta stuff. Mostly how I freaked on you earlier."

"You wanna talk about that?"

I take a deep breath. Kinda wishing there was more vodka now. I take another deep breath, not that it seems to be helping. I really, really do hate these kinda talks. Alright, just tell her, it's no big deal, right? Yeah... like fuck.

"It was... when you pinned me, it kinda reminded me of some stuff... My stepfather..."

I finally work up the nerve to make eye contact. She's quiet, not jumping in with questions or nothin'. Just listening. Maybe I can do this after all. Okay... might as well start at the beginning.

"I... I never knew my real father. I don't think Mom knew who he was either." Ain't that the truth. When it comes to screwing guys Mom made me look like a fuckin' nun.

"She always had guys round at the house and she'd screw 'em for money or crack or... well, just for the hell of it."

I'm fidgeting again. I hate when I do that, but I can't stop. Nervous habit. And I'm damn nervous right about now.

"When I was eight, she married her dealer and he moved in. Rob - he was a total bastard. I mean, Mom was no saint" I have the scars to prove that, "But Rob used to beat up on her and shit and..."

Hard part now.

"Well, a couple of nights after he moved in, he uh..."

I can't do this! Why is it so damn hard to say the words? He raped me. He held me down and fucked me raw. But I can't say that, the words just can't get past the sudden lump in my throat. Fuck that - I am *not* going to cry.

There's a hand on my back, gentle, reassuring.

"You can tell me, Faith."

I look up at her and there are tears running down her cheeks. She's crying. She's crying for me, and there's no way I can hold it together anymore. Sobbing, I break down.

"He raped me."

My voice is choked and I can hardly breathe. I haven't cried since I was ten and it's all catching up with me now. I start to bawl like a kid, but fuck it feels good. I've been holding onto that for so long, giving him so much power over me. And now I've released it and it hurts like hell, but it's a good hurt, coz I know it'll get better.

Buffy puts her arms around me, pulling me close.

"Shhhh, Faith. It's okay. Let it out. Let it go."

And I do. I let go of everything and all I have is Buffy, holding me tight against her, murmuring reassurances in my ear. I don't know how long we stay like that but when we eventually break apart she smiles at me with that little half-smile that hits me straight in the gut every time. She reaches out a hand to brush away the tears on my face.

"It will get better from here Faith, I promise."

She's only inches away from me, the distance between us measured in a breath. So close that I can smell that vanilla scent that always seems to cling to her, I can see the gold flecks in her deep green eyes that are still glistening with tears.

I don't know which of us it is that closes the gap between us, but now slowly and softly she's kissing me. It's different from anything I've experienced before, there's no force, no demand, no expectation. Just her lips on mine with a passion behind her tenderness that ignites every part of me.

Usually I'm the one taking the lead, but when she runs her tongue over my upper lip I'm perfectly content to follow where she takes me. She deepens the kiss, slowly, sensuously, taking her time, and I'm memorising every stroke of her tongue on mine, storing the memory away for safe keeping. If there has been one perfect moment in my life, this is it.

That one kiss seems to last an eternity until eventually she pulls back for air. She rests her forehead against mine, her hand still tangled in my hair, and briefly I wonder if it's actually possible to die from happiness.

There's a whole lot of stuff I want to tell her. How beautiful she is, how much she means to me, how I want to hold her and never let her go. But I don't trust myself to speak right now, and I'm almost afraid that if I say something I'm gonna shatter this spell. So we stay like that, content to just look at each other.

Then her eyes flick to the clock on the dresser and the real world suddenly kicks back in. "Damn." she sighs, "I told Giles we'd be at his place by six."

Slowly, and very, very reluctantly, I let go and stand up. "Then we should hurry."

"Yeah." she agrees, equally reluctant.

I'm throw my jacket on and open the door when her hand on my arm stops me. Sliding her arms under the jacket and around my waist, she leans in to kiss me briefly. God, I could get used to this.

"Let's go." she says, stepping back and holding out her hand for me to take.

Okay... I'm not completely stupid - there are problems with this, I know. One particularly big corn-fed Iowa born Beefstick problem. Plus I'm not exactly the take-home-to-Mom kinda girl, especially not when you've held that Mom prisoner and tied her up in her own home. Not to mention her Scooby gang who, I'm fairly sure would as soon stone me to death as look at me.

But for now I'm gonna take her hand, and let her lead me... to wherever she wants to go.