Aside from the beeps and hums of the various medical machines, and the general noise that filtered in through the impossibly thin hospital walls, the silence in the room could only be described as deafening. The last few days had been filled with more than a fair share of long, awkward pauses like this one...but unlike those it seemed different, somehow, something that had probably been caused by the bombshell Buffy and Angel had just dropped on their poor, unsuspecting friends.
Opting for blunt honesty (instead of the cryptic, roundabout way Angel had wanted to use), the pair just came right out and said it, hastily explaining their current situation and how they had gotten there to the stunned group.
Buffy and Angel exchanged uneasy glances after they had finished, their laced fingers tightening as the silence stretched on for what seemed to be an eternity.
Finally, Cordelia spoke. "Why do you always get the good ones?" she asked Buffy. "I mean, I can count the number of guys who would do that for me on...well, on nothing. No one would. I really need better luck."
"If it helps, I don't think anyone other than Angel would have done it," Buffy said, her eyes twinkling.
"But he did! And that's the depressing thing," the seer replied.
"So you just...gave it back?" Willow asked, her voice holding a note of wonderment. "All of it? Like you were returning a gift you didn't want?"
Angel quirked a brow at the phrasing. "Uhh...I guess."
"Well, I must say that I'm speechless," Giles said from his seat by Buffy's bed.
"That has got to be a first," Xander muttered. The older man shot him a dirty look before he continued.
"You're saying you were made human by the blood of the Mohra demon, and then went back to the Oracles to ask them to reverse time so you could save her life? It's...extraordinary."
"You know, I'm getting pretty sick of extraordinary," Buffy stated. "Is it too much to ask to have *one* ordinary thing in my life?"
"Well, you have to fold your socks. Everyone does it, it doesn't take any special powers, and you don't have to kill or maim anything to get it done." Willow looked around at the others. "What? I was just putting things in perspective."
Angel shifted closer to Buffy on the bed, letting her lean against him as he addressed Giles. "I just asked them to change me back. The time reversal was their idea."
"It was a really bad idea," Buffy piped up as she snuggled against him.
"And you don't remember any of it?" Willow asked, reaching out from where she stood on the other side of the bed to take Buffy's hand.
"Not a bit. I'm having twins -- which is pretty weird in and of itself -- and on top of that huge life-altering bombshell, I don't even remember how they were conceived," Buffy said with a heavy sigh.
"Do we have to have a talk about the birds and the bees? Or, in this case, the ex-vampires and the Slayers? I think you know *how* they were conceived, Buffy," Cordelia smirked.
The blonde rolled her eyes. "You know what I mean."
"But at least you have the ability to get them back, right? Your memories, I mean. The Oracle said that they were just buried," Willow said.
"It's not like I accidentally buried them in some sandbox using one of those cute little plastic shovels, Will. I don't even know how to *try* to get them back," the Slayer said, sounding defeated. Angel tightened his grip on her and gently turned her face up to look at him.
"Buffy, you *will* get them back. All you need is time," he said, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.
"I know...but we're all well aware of how impatient I am. I'm always all take-charge and gung-ho. It's killing me to just sit around and wait for my mind to figure out where it's hidden these memories," Buffy replied.
Cordelia leaned forward, bracing her hands on the foot of the bed. "So I'm guessing all the public displays mean you two are an item again."
"Cordelia, we're having a baby. Two, in fact. I think we're a little bit more than an 'item'," the Slayer snapped.
"But the curse is still there, isn't it?" Xander asked. Buffy narrowed her eyes at him, her anger boiling beneath her skin. He swallowed at the sudden shift of her attitude but continued. "How do we know some random event like throwing you a baby shower won't pull the happiness trigger?"
"We don't know. We don't know *anything* about the curse," Buffy told him with a hint of venom in her voice. "That's why I was planning on asking Will and Tara if they'd help come up with a spell to make sure Angelus can't come out to play 'let's destroy the world' anytime soon. Or ever."
Willow jumped in. "I'd love to help. Just give us a copy of the curse and we'll work some Wiccan magic on it. Make Angel good as new." She looked at him. "That's not to say that you aren't already good, because you are, you've got your soul and everything, I just meant--"
"I know, Willow," Angel said, his trademark half-smirk on his lips.
"You're the best, Will. Now that one major issue has been fixed, I think it's about time Xander and I had a little heart-to-heart," Buffy said, her hazel eyes piercing his. He averted his gaze and shuffled his feet but nodded his assent. "Guys, can you give us a few minutes?"
The others nodded and began moving towards the door. Under her breath, Cordelia said, "You're lucky she's in that bed. If she wasn't I bet she'd rip your balls off," and then exited, leaving only Buffy, Angel, and Xander in the sterile room.
Angel stood to leave, dislodging a curled-up Buffy from the comfortable position she had been in at his side. "Now him I trust you with." He shot a glance over to Xander. "Barely." Stooping low to drop a kiss onto her forehead, he gave her hand a squeeze and then turned to leave, pulling the door shut behind him.
An awkward silence fell over them as Buffy shifted on the lumpy bed, obviously trying to get comfortable again. Finally she gave up and leaned back, lacing her fingers together in her lap.
"So, Xander, why don't you tell me exactly what happened between you and my body," she said coldly.
He took his time, moving over to sit in the chair Giles had vacated by her bedside. Wiping his suddenly sweaty palms against his jeans, Xander shamefully avoided meeting her gaze.
"It...it happened the other night. It was about three in the morning, and I was walking home from a job that had taken a lot longer than I'd expected. I saw you -- I mean Faith -- I mean Faith in you...you know what I mean. You...*she* offered to help me find a phone, I'd gotten a flat tire and was going to call Anya to tell her...well, something. She led me to this warehouse and then she...she..."
"She what? Made you balloon animals?"
"She came on to me."
Buffy bit the inside of her cheek, hoping it would be enough to keep in the tongue-lashing she wanted to give him. After counting to ten, and then counting to ten again just to be sure she was under control, she said, "And you went along with it."
"Not at first!" Xander defended. "I told her to get off me, I asked her what was wrong...I knew something was up, but I figured that maybe you'd had a fight with Riley or something and were looking to get back at him."
"You *thought* that of ME? You thought I would *USE* YOU to get back at my boyfriend? My God, Xander, do you know me at all?!" she shouted, clenching fistfuls of the poor excuse for a blanket in her hands.
"Of course I do," he retorted. "I was just...it was all so sudden and--"
"And you thought you'd get a quick piece of Buffy because she was putting out?" she snapped. The anger felt good, and with her hormones as fuel the rage roared through her. He had betrayed her, betrayed their friendship, and while she knew that she was perhaps overreacting a bit, she didn't care. She had the right to be upset at what he'd done, and she was going to use it.
"No! Of course not! It's just, she was...and I...it was just so...I can't describe it."
Buffy glared at him with hostility. "Well, Xander, that's sure what it seems like. It was late, you were horny, Faith gladly offered MY BODY to you and you took it, no questions asked. Did you even stop to think about who you would be hurting? I can't believe you would do that to Anya!"
"I did stop to think, I even stopped to speak! You -- she said that it would be our secret," Xander told her, his hands gripping the sides of the chair he sat in until his knuckles turned white.
"Oh, well then that makes it all okay, doesn't it?"
"I didn't say it did! I was just..."
"You were just what?" she prodded. "Horny?"
He pointedly ignored her jab. "When she came on to me...all the things she said...it was like I could have what I've wanted for the past four years. So I took it."
"Oh, so *that* makes it okay? You've been lusting after me since sophomore year and when you finally get the chance you take it, not even bothering to stop and ask yourself *why* it was happening?" Buffy demanded. She fought to stay in bed as the urge to leap up and either pace until she burned a hole in the linoleum or punch him grew inside of her. She had trusted him, and he'd betrayed her. And she told him so. "I *trusted* you, Xander."
"I didn't say it made it okay!" he cried, jumping from his seat. "But I was confused and then she went for my belt--"
"I don't care if the girl shows a sharp comparison to a *Hoover*, Xander, you should have said no! Try thinking with your other head once in a while," she snapped, her hazel eyes tracking him as he began to do laps around her hospital room.
"Don't you think I know that? I tried to say no, and she wouldn't listen! We all know that Faith is a very convincing person," Xander argued.
"Convincing enough to make you cheat on your girlfriend?" Buffy retorted. "I guess that proves the theory that you really do just keep Anya around because she's convenient. If you cared about her, you would've thought twice -- and then four or five more times over -- about sleeping with someone else."
Xander stopped in mid-stride, turning to stare at her coldly. Pointing accusingly at her, he said, "You don't get to talk about me and Anya. You've been so wrapped up in Riley and his band of lame-o commandos you haven't paid any attention to us. You don't know me anymore, so don't think you have the right to judge me now, Buffy, because you don't."
"Xander, you FUCKED my BODY. *That* gives me the right." She paused, drawing in a deep breath. "And you want to talk about not knowing people? How about YOU not knowing I wasn't in MY OWN BODY!"
"How was I supposed to know? You've barely talked to me in the past few months, I don't even know who you are anymore," Xander shot back, his feet suddenly rooted in place. They reached a standoff, neither willing to back down, and their stares stayed locked as Buffy spoke again.
"And that's your excuse? I don't spend enough time with you so you think my behavior is just something new and go along with it? Did we suddenly flash back to junior high and no one bothered to let me know? And here I was thinking you'd be able to come up with something original," she said furiously, the venom clear in her voice.
"It's the truth!" he retorted, running a shaky hand through his slightly rumpled hair.
"And I should just believe you, right? Forgive and forget like always, friends forever, nothing can come between us?" She shook her head. "Sorry, but I did that once before. Do the words 'kick his ass' mean anything to you?"
Xander paled visibly. "How do you know about that?"
"Did you honestly think that Willow and I would never figure it out? I'm not as blonde as I look, Xander, I *can* think. We put it together and it spelled duh -- in the bright glaring lights sense. I was mad at you for that, but I knew why you did it. I like to think that you did it for the more noble reasons we came up with, and not because you were jealous of Angel."
"Buffy--"
"No, you don't get to talk anymore," Buffy hissed. "You know, if you'd just admitted you were wrong and apologized, I would've let this all go. I don't like holding grudges, especially against my best friends." Tears welled in Buffy's eyes as she went on. "You didn't know it wasn't me. And that...that I don't think I can forgive."
With that she turned away from him, obviously signaling the end of the conversation. Xander moved to speak again, to make her see his point (not that he really had one, but if he kept talking surely one would come out), but her rigid body language and the fast beeping that came from her heart monitor stopped him. The last thing he needed was to be the cause of her stress.
"For what it's worth, Buffy, I am sorry."
"Just go," she said hoarsely, the tears evident in her voice.
He went.
*~*
"Look, everyone, Angel's back, and he's wearing his big black coat. He looks very menacing and scary; he'll be able to scare Faith now. May I leave?" Anya demanded the minute Angel entered his apartment.
The vampire shared a glance with Wesley before surveying the scene before him. Faith and Spike sat side by side on the couch, the television droning on in the background. Anya was curled up in his armchair with an old book strewn across her lap, and Wesley was pacing back and forth near his bedroom.
"How's Buffy?" Wesley asked as he moved over to join Angel.
"She'll be okay with some rest. Did you get a chance to..." He trailed off, gesturing towards the bookshelves that held his extensive collection.
"I have a few theories, but I would like to converse with Mr. Giles first, as I'm sure he has his own as well," Wesley said. Angel nodded, obviously distracted. His attention was focused on Faith, who sat on the couch with her hands bound in her lap. Spike was busy catching her up on 'Passions,' but Angel could tell just by looking at the back of her head that she was only listening with half an ear.
She was too busy trying to plan her escape.
"Wesley, why don't you take Anya over to Cordelia's and then head on home. There's nothing else that can be done right now," Angel said softly, well aware of the advanced hearing Faith possessed, as he led the other man into the kitchen.
"And what about Faith?" the Englishman asked, glancing through the doorway at the couple on the couch.
Angel followed his gaze. "She's going to stay here with me. We need to have a talk."
"Does Buffy know?"
The vampire was silent for a moment. "Buffy doesn't need the extra stress right now," Angel said as he shoved his hands into his pockets awkwardly.
"She would very likely castrate you if she knew, wouldn't she?" Wesley smirked.
"Oh yeah. If I was lucky."
Chuckling, Wesley clapped him on the back. "You're taking on a lot here, Angel, are you sure you're prepared to handle this?"
"No," Angel admitted, glancing into the other room to trace Faith's profile with his eye. "But I *am* sure that I have to try."
Wesley nodded after a moment. "I just hope you know what you're doing."
"So do I," the vampire said, turning back to look at Wesley again. "I've been there, Wesley, I know what she's going through. I might be the only one who can help her."
"I can't say that I know anything about what it is you are trying to do here...but I do hope you know what it is you're doing. For your sake...and for hers." The men shared a brief silence before Angel nodded once.
"I'll give you a call in the morning. Oh, and I think Giles might have invited himself over to your place tonight. He was mumbling something about not wanting to spend the night at Cordelia's because it'll be just like a teenage sleepover, complete with movies and painted toenails," Angel said as he walked with Wesley back into the living room. Wesley smiled.
"Mr. Giles and I have much to catch up on," the ex-Watcher said as he signaled to Anya that they were leaving.
"Where will I be staying?" she asked as she moved over to join the two men.
"Cordelia said you were welcome to stay with her."
The ex-demon frowned. "Will Xander be there? Because if he is, and if he does anything to upset me even more than I already am, I will not be held accountable for my actions." Anya narrowed her eyes. "He cheated on me. In the rules of dating it clearly states that cheating is not allowed. Does that mean I can get back at him in some way? I could sleep with someone, and then we would be even. Mr. Wyndham-Price, are you single?"
Wesley stuttered, obviously not used to her forwardness. "Uh, An-Anya, perhaps it would...would be best if-if you spent the night at Cordelia's. That way, you-you'll be able to talk to Xander, maybe reason with him."
"Why would I want to do something like that? Didn't you just hear me?" Anya demanded, planting her hands on her hips. "He broke the rules. He should be punished."
"Well, in that case, why not just borrow Peaches' chains and have some kinky bondage fun with your wayward man," Spike smirked from his seat on the couch.
Anya brightened. "Yes, Spike, that's a wonderful idea. Angel, may I borrow your chains?"
The vampire squirmed. "Anya, why don't you go back to Cordelia's and try talking to him first. That's usually the way we handle these kinds of things."
"But I don't want to talk," she protested, "I want to tie him up and hit him with a riding crop of some sort until he realizes how much he hurt me."
"Now that's my kind of girl," Spike said, turning to face them. "I need to find me an ex-demon."
"Spike, there is no need to go find someone else, as I am on the market now. Is that the expression?" She turned to Angel for help. "I certainly hope not, it makes me sound like a vegetable that someone is trying to sell."
Desperately, Angel nudged Wesley in the ribs. "Oww! What?" The vampire nodded his head in Anya's direction. "Ah, yes, umm...Anya, we should probably get going."
"Are we going to go back to your apartment to have sex so that I can get back at Xander?" she asked. Angel noted offhandedly that she had a bright-eyed innocence to her that was obviously misleading. She was still green, still not used to being human...but she had been around for a long time. Misjudging her was something he didn't plan on doing.
Not that he thought of her as any kind of threat. Anya had obviously never had her heart broken before, and she had been a vengeance demon for a millennium. It was perfectly natural for her to want to inflict some kind of revenge. The vampire felt bad about sticking Wesley with her...but he had more pressing issues to deal with. Like Faith.
"You have a very nice chair, Angel, I was very comfortable sitting in it while you were gone," Anya said brightly as Wesley led her towards the stairs.
"Uhh...thank you," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "Wes, I'll see you and Giles tomorrow. Oh, and lock up on the way out." Angel waited until the pair had vanished and the door had closed upstairs before saying, "Spike, if you're not out of here in the next minute I'll be vacuuming you off my couch."
"I had a feeling you were going to try and throw me out. Come on, Peaches!" Spike grumbled. "Where am I supposed to go? It's not like I'm chummy with anyone in the City of Great Big Poofs."
"Spike, I let you come into *my* city, sit in *my* apartment, and drink *my* blood -- even after what you pulled the last time you were here."
"Oh, yeah, the whole Gem of Amara bit. You're still not sour about that, are you?" At Angel's growl, Spike shrugged. "Where is my Gem, anyway? No, wait, I'm sure I know how this one goes. You, being the noble wanker that you are, probably destroyed the bloody thing because you can't bear the thought of having some excuse that would let you give up the brooding act."
"Good guess," Angel said humorlessly. "Now leave."
Spike's jaw dropped as he realized that his sarcastic guess was actually true. "You *destroyed* the Gem of Amara? Are you some kind of idiot?!" He paused, rolling his eyes. "Oh, that's right, you are."
In an instant Angel was hauling Spike up by the lapels of his leather duster so that the two vampires were eye to eye. "Don't test my patience, boy. I've been more than charitable -- but now it's time for you to go. Take your annoying comments and your bad hair and get the hell out of my house," Angel said, his tone razor sharp. He released Spike with a warning growl.
"Buffy won't stand for this," Spike protested as he straightened his coat out, trying to look dignified. "*She* cares about my well-being, unlike a certain grand-sire of mine, and she wouldn't let you just throw me out onto the street!"
"Buffy's exact words were 'if Spike is part of my welcome home party he'll be joining the dust bunnies under the couch,'" Angel said smugly.
"And how is Fluffy? Recovering nicely from that soul journey?"
"I won't tell you again. Get out of my house," the dark-haired vampire growled.
"Well, I can see I've worn out my welcome." Spike sighed and bent down to press a wet kiss to Faith's cheek. The Slayer looked up at him for a moment with an unreadable expression on her face before she turned her attention back to the show she was watching. "See you around, Peaches. Tell the Slayer I'll be in touch. And Faith, luv, you and me should get together sometime." With a lewd gesture directed at Faith and a roll of his eyes for Angel, Spike left.
The apartment grew quiet with his departure, the only noise coming from the television. Angel rubbed a hand over his eyes distractedly, keeping his gaze trained on the young woman on his couch.
He knew her body was still weak from the months she had spent in a coma, he'd seen it in the sluggish motions Buffy had used when fighting those slime demons with him. He also assumed (which probably wasn't the best thing to do in a situation like the one he was faced with) that she hadn't slept while he had been in the hospital, and was more than a little tired from the trying day they'd had.
Knowing this made him feel a little bit better about what he was about to do. Angel rounded the couch and sat down next to Faith, noting that she didn't even acknowledge his presence, staring straight ahead at the wall in front of her instead. It wasn't until he tentatively reached over and pulled her chains into his lap that she looked at him, her gaze thick with suspicion. Angel whispered the incantation Willow had given him and the chains fell away, abruptly releasing Faith. The move was risky, but he needed her to trust him, and to do that he had to show that he trusted her. To an extent, at least.
Faith didn't say anything until Angel stood and switched off the television, bathing the room in silence. He turned back to the Slayer and found her regarding him coolly as she rubbed her sore wrists.
"Do you want anything? Water? Something to eat?" he asked casually.
She eyed him warily. "What's the game?"
"No game. Unless you want to play Tic Tac Toe for some popcorn," Angel joked, trying to lighten the mood. His attempt only served to fuel her suspicion.
"You're just letting me go free?" Faith asked, her eyes and voice filled with doubt. She slowly stood on shaky legs and stretched her arms up above her head, letting out an appreciative purr as she worked the kinks out of her muscles.
"Yes -- in my apartment." He knew it was risky, his place was filled with wooden tables and chairs, and if Faith was feeling daring enough she wouldn't hesitate to break something to use as a stake. But, as he had surmised before, she was still weak, and her body was tired from when Buffy had been in it. Despite her tough exterior, Angel could tell she wasn't in top form.
Faith glanced at him as she walked around the couch, craning her neck to peer up the stairs. "So, what, I'm your prisoner?"
"I wouldn't say that, exactly. And I know what you're thinking, but the door's steel, and the lock needs a key to be opened on both sides. No getting out without it," he said quietly. Watching her carefully, he couldn't help but notice the way her jaw moved at the news...but that was the only indication she gave that she'd heard him at all.
"So then what am I, *exactly*? Because usually when you lock someone in a room somewhere, that's called taking them prisoner."
"You're free to leave if you want, Faith." Angel paused, waiting for that to sink in. "Of course, if you do choose to leave I'll probably have to call a friend of mine who just happens to work for the L.A.P.D. and tell her where you are, you being a fugitive and all." He made a clicking noise with his tongue. "I really do hate those pesky laws."
She laughed humorlessly, tossing her brown wavy hair over her shoulder. "Did anyone ever tell you that you're too good for your own good?" He didn't answer, and Faith looked away after a moment, sighing deeply. "What do I have to do now?"
"We need to have a little talk, that's all," Angel said as he leaned against one of the brick columns, his gaze trained on her. Appearing to be calm and collected, he wanted to show that he was confident and knew that everything was under control, but he was equally ready to stop her if she tried anything.
"We have to talk, huh? I don't have to tell you about my childhood, or my favorite foods, or if I ever had a dog, do I?" she sniped, crossing her arms protectively over her chest. "Because if I do I think I'll just skip the therapy session."
Angel mimicked her, crossing his arms as well as he said, "You really don't have a lot of choices here, Faith. The way I see it, you either stay here and talk with me or I call my friend Kate and she escorts you out of here wearing those very attractive metal bracelets again."
"How about option three, where we just forget this whole thing and you let me go, no strings attached," she snapped as she tapped her foot against the hardwood floor, the sound echoing through the room.
"Come on, Faith, I think you know me a little bit better than that," he smiled knowingly.
Her voice laced with sarcasm, she sniped, "Oh that's right, you're the guru of self-flagellation."
"Guru...now that's a new one. Personally, I don't think I'm quite there yet." He paused, piercing her with his dark stare. "I do know a thing or two about what you're going through, though. I've been there, Faith, I know what it's like to have evil inside you...I know what it's like to kill, to take a human life. It's intoxicating. Suffocating." "Oh that's right, you were all big and bad a few centuries ago, but now you seem perfectly content to play lap dog to your precious Slayer. I think you'd benefit from this therapy session more than I would," Faith said with a roll of her eyes.
Angel ignored her. "I remember what it feels like...how powerful you feel when you hold another person's life in your hand. And when you crush it...when you strike...it makes you feel invincible."
"As fun as this trip down memory lane is, can we just skip all this and get to the part where you let me go?"
"Faith, you need to deal with this," Angel said, trying hard not to show his frustration. "When you killed that innocent man, something happened to you. You unlocked that evil that everyone has inside of them, and you let it consume you, control you. If you're ever going to make peace with yourself, you need to understand why you did what you did."
Obviously agitated and fed up with him, Faith snapped, "You want to get off that soulful soapbox of yours now? You're just wasting that unnecessary breath: I *don't* need to hear this."
Determined to make her see what he was getting at, Angel pressed on. "I know what it's like to hate yourself, Faith, to not be able to stand who you are, what you've become. I've been there. I want to help you through this."
"Did I ask for your fucking help?" she bit out. "There's nothing wrong with me. Go brood in a dark corner and leave me the hell alone!"
"One of the first things you need to get past is your denial," he told her flatly.
"Denial?" she scoffed. "And what is it that I'm in denial about, Oh Knowing One?"
"About yourself, about how you feel about what you've done and who you've become," Angel said, letting some of the weight from his personal experience seep into his voice while he spoke.
"From where I'm standing there's nothing wrong with *myself*," she snapped, taking a step closer to him.
"See? Big sign of denial -- you deny things."
She snickered. "You're a bright one, Angel, anyone ever tell you that?"
He ignored her as he continued. "You have to admit that you hate yourself, hate what you've become."
"Hate? There's no hate for myself in this hot little body of mine. Me, myself, and I are enjoying quite the loving relationship right now."
"If you're going that route, you might want to at least *try* to sound convincing," Angel sighed, digging the palms of his hands into his eyes. This was not going to be a swift conversation. He had to get through to her, get past the defenses she had set up around herself before they could even begin to make any progress. And that wasn't going to be easy.
Faith glared at him, planting her hands on her hips. "What's your problem, Angel? You think that just because you want to do some good everyone else does? Well, I've got a newsflash for ya, Soul Boy: goodness isn't what makes the world go 'round. Evil is. I would think that you of all people -- or vampires, I guess -- would accept that."
"You and I both know that you don't really believe that, Faith," Angel pointed out as he crossed his arms over his chest once more.
"Don't I?" she countered, an edge in her voice. "I tried taking the good route, but it seemed that I was never good enough to be good. I'm a rebel, baby, and I'm a damn good one to boot."
"But that's not really who you are, Faith. You're a Slayer, a Warrior for Light."
"Well, what can I say? Evil pays cash," Faith smirked as she began to roam the apartment, her legs tired of standing still. Angel tracked her carefully with his gaze.
"I hardly think the payroll was what attracted you to evil," Angel said incredulously.
"No, that was just an added bonus."
He stared at her for a long moment, forcing her to look away when the gaze became too intense. "So what made you do it, Faith? What made you turn?"
"Who's to say I wasn't already like that, that I wasn't just playing you guys for suckers all along?" she challenged, striding up to him. His silence obviously unnerved her, and when he refused to reply Faith grew angry. "You think you've got me all figured out, don't you? I couldn't take being second best so I hooked up with people who I was good enough for, right?"
"You're making an awful lot of assumptions, Faith, I never said anything like that," Angel said, amusement coloring his face. "That's usually an indication that you're feeling a little guilty."
"Take that psycho-babble bullshit, Dr. Freud, and stick it up that cute little ass of yours," Faith snapped, spinning away from him.
"See? You really do have a lot of anger bottled up inside."
Faith snorted. "Yeah, and *see*, I'm directing it all at *you*."
"You're only mad at me because it's easier than being mad at yourself," Angel told her as he reached out and gripped her arms. Jumping in shock and outrage, she pulled away from him sharply.
"Don't touch me," she hissed. Her expression suddenly changed, a seductive gleam coloring her brown eyes. "Or maybe that's what we're really getting at here. Your precious Buffy is all banged up, leaving us the perfect opportunity to have an encore of what happened between the two of you before. I felt it, Angel, I felt what you did to her." Faith sidled up to him, reaching out to take his hands. "And now we're all alone. Buffy can't interfere this time. Come on, Angel, you know you want it. You've always wanted it. You got a taste before, and now you're dying for it. Let me show you what it's really like to be with a Slayer."
"Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me."
"You're saying I'm wrong?" she challenged, not letting go of him. "Then why are you doing this behind everyone's favorite Slayer's back? You and I both know you're risking Buffy's good graces here. What else could make it worth that besides having another go with me?"
Angel jerked his hands away from her. "Can you try to take your mind off your hormones for a few minutes so that we can make some actual progress here?"
"I like my idea better," Faith purred. "Come on, Angel, I'll show you mine if you show me yours."
"Already seen it, Faith," he reminded her, watching the anger that flitted across her face. "I'm not going to be the next man you lose yourself in, Faith. You don't need that right now. You need to deal with what you've done, and why you've done it."
"Is that what you think?" the dark Slayer asked. "That I *lose* myself in guys because I don't like who I am?"
Dismissing her anger, Angel said, "Look at that. We're finally making some progress."
"Progress? You *tricking* me is NOT progress, Soul Boy. There's no guilt, no regret. Looks like you could use some more practice before you try another psychoanalysis."
The vampire ran a hand through his hair, following right behind her when she spun away from him and stalked to the other side of the room. He followed her to the doorway of his bedroom, standing beside her.
"Did you fuck her in that bed?" Faith demanded, her tone deadly with rage.
"That's a big source of your problem, isn't it? Buffy." Faith didn't respond, so he pressed on, "You're jealous of her. You want what she has...the family, the friends...the lover. On some level, Faith...you want to *be* her."
Faith turned on him, stabbing a finger into his chest as she bit out, "Be her? Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I want to be some fake goody-two shoes whiny bitch when I can be me?"
"Why'd you steal her body, then?" Angel countered, staring her down. "You must've had some idea of what you were doing. If you didn't want to be her, why'd you do it?"
She stared at him for a long moment in silent fury before pushing him away from her. "Why does everyone automatically assume that Buffy's my big role model? Has it ever occurred to anyone that it's the other way around? *She* wants to be *me*. She got a taste of it back when she was *my* sidekick, and she's been wanting more ever since. I know B, and I know that she hates being held back."
"Or maybe that's you. You hate being in her shadow, but you also want to be just like her. Everything she has is everything you've ever wanted, and you can't stand that she has it and you don't."
Faith stared him down again, planting her hands on her hips. "Sunnydale's only big enough for one perfect little bitch, and since she was there first and seems to do it so much better than I ever could, I figured I'd sit back and watch her self-destruct."
"As I recall, you're the one who went over the deep end, Faith," Angel pointed out. "You can't stand being second best."
"Yeah, you'd better fucking believe it!" Faith shouted, stalking away from him. She began to pace. "Sunnydale was supposed to be MY FUCKING TOWN! And yet as soon as I get there I'm being compared to her, I can never measure up to the great and wonderful Buffy Summers! No one took the time to see that I was the better Slayer, they were too busy being in awe of that stupid bitch. Why be second best when I could rule the whole fucking town by the Mayor's side? I didn't have to compete with anyone, he believed in me. He *knew* that *I* was the best, he cared about me, he didn't judge me. He knew I could kick Buffy's ass to next Tuesday if I wanted to, and he respected me for it."
"Because it was wrong. And you know it." Angel paused, his gaze sweeping over the rigidity of her back, the clenching of her hands at her sides. He had definitely struck a nerve.
"Wrong? WRONG?! What the hell do you know about what's right and what's wrong? You fell in love with a fucking *Vampire* *Slayer*. And you say I've got problems. Why don't we talk about you and your sick little obsession?"
Unfazed, he replied, "Because I've already had a hundred years to come to terms with who I am. You can't even do that for five seconds."
"You think I haven't done that already? You think I don't like who I am?"
"That's exactly what I think. You hate yourself, you hate the hand you've been dealt, you hate always being compared to Buffy, you hate not being good enough. You can barely live with yourself, Faith. That eight-month coma was the only that prevented you from killing yourself."
She burst out into furious laughter. "You're just all kinds of jumpy, aren't you? First I hate myself, and now I'm suicidal. Come on, Angel, tell me another."
"Mock me all you want, Faith, but you know it's true." He walked steadily towards her as he went on. "You're unhappy, and you lash out because you can't handle it."
"Unhappy? Unhappy?! You think I'm unhappy? I'm not fucking unhappy! I'm sick and tired of not being appreciated and respected, the way a Slayer should be! The way B is! I'm not unhappy, I'm fine! I'M FUCKING FINE! I don't need your help or your pity. I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine!" Her voice rose with each word until she was screaming right in Angel's face, months of pent-up anger rising to the surface as she cracked. His instigating wormed its way beneath her skin, and she hated him for being able to get to her the way he had.
"You're fine? You don't look fine."
"Fuck off, Angel! I'M FINE!!!!! I DON'T NEED YOUR FUCKING HELP! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE, I'M FINE, I'M FINE, I'M FINE I'M FINEI'MFINEI'MFINE!!!!!!" Angel took another step closer to her, and then another, and suddenly he was towering over her. "Stay away from me! STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME! You don't know anything about me, you can't fucking judge me! Don't think you can sprout wisdom and make me eat it up! I don't need your help, I'm fine I'm fine I'm fine!!!!!" Sobbing hysterically, she screeched, "I'M FINE!!!!!"
And then suddenly she was falling...but unlike all the other times she'd hit rock bottom...Angel was there to catch her.
TBC…
Go to Part Sixteen – Down to the Ground
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